02

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Anindya left Zaskia's house feeling marginally better. But she didn't go home. Instead, she steered her car toward an office building in the city center — the firm of Haryo Wibowo, the renowned attorney who had long served as her legal consultant.

Throughout the drive, her mind churned with questions. Who had sent those photos of Raditya and his mistress? Who had texted her about Raditya's whereabouts at the hospital? Friend or foe? There was no sender name on the photos. She tried calling the number from the text message, but it was already disconnected.

*

When she arrived at Haryo Wibowo's law firm, the staff ushered her in immediately — everyone in the office knew Anindya was one of Mr. Haryo's most important clients. She sat down across from him without waiting to be invited.

"Ms. Anindya?" Haryo looked surprised by her unannounced visit. "What brings you here? You could have simply called if something was urgent."

"I want to file for divorce from my husband, Raditya," Anindya replied without preamble. "He's been having an affair behind my back. I want him out of the house without a single cent to his name. Is that possible?"

Haryo listened carefully, his hand jotting down key points in his notebook.

"First, may I ask — do you and Mr. Raditya have a prenuptial agreement governing the division of assets in the event of a divorce?" he asked once she had finished.

Anindya shook her head slowly. A bitter smile crossed her lips. "No. When we got married, we were dirt poor. We had nothing. I trusted him completely — I never imagined a day like this would come. To me, love and trust were enough. Who would have thought he'd do something this cruel?"

The attorney exhaled heavily, then shook his head.

"In that case, I'm sorry, but I have to be honest with you. Without a prenuptial agreement, all assets acquired during the marriage are automatically classified as community property under the law. That means they must be split equally — fifty-fifty. You can't simply cut him out, even if he's the one who cheated. Moreover, in the eyes of both the public and the court, Mr. Raditya is considered to have contributed to building the business."

"So there's no other way at all?" Anindya's eyes narrowed with fierce determination.

"There is one option, but it's a drastic and risky move," Haryo replied. "If you truly don't want him to enjoy the fruits of your labor, the only way is to transfer all assets into your personal name, or..."

"Or what?" Anindya stared at the lawyer, her patience razor-thin.

Haryo leaned forward until his face hovered above the desk, their eyes locked. "You drive the company and its assets into bankruptcy before the property division process begins. But this would require meticulous strategy and precise timing."

Anindya's eyes went wide, her lips parting slightly. Drive her own company into bankruptcy? Her mind raced through every possibility the attorney had laid out. But before she could respond, her phone rang, the tone cutting through the silence of the room.

She pulled the phone from her bag. The name on the screen sent a stab of pain through her chest. Raditya.

With eyes blazing behind a mask of composure, she answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Sweetheart? Where are you? It's getting late — why aren't you home yet?" Raditya's voice came through soft and full of concern. "I cooked your favorite dish and set the table for you. You must be exhausted after working all day, right?"

Anindya's chest tightened as her memory hurtled back through the years. For twenty years, Raditya had never shown a single suspicious sign. He had been the perfect husband. Always attentive, preparing everything she needed without being asked, a shoulder to lean on when she was tired, supportive of every decision she made. She had believed she was the luckiest woman alive.

But now, those sweet words felt like poison. Behind all that kindness, the man who had stood beside her all these years had been hiding a secret massive enough to destroy everything.

"I'll be home soon," Anindya answered. Her voice was flat, stripped of the warmth it usually carried.

On the other end, Raditya furrowed his brow. Something was different about his wife's voice. "Sweetheart? Are you okay? You sound strange. Tell me where you are — I'll come pick you up."

"I'm fine. See you at home."

Without waiting for another word, Anindya hung up. That wasn't like her. Normally she ended their calls with tender words or terms of endearment.

On his end, Raditya stood holding his phone, sensing that something was off — but unable to put his finger on what.

Anindya slipped the phone back into her bag and turned to face Haryo again. The attorney's final word echoed in her mind on an endless loop. BANKRUPT. If there was no other way, then that was the path she would take.

"I understand your explanation," she said, straightening in her chair. "Thank you for your time. I'll think it over and contact you again soon."

"Of course. I'll be waiting for your call anytime. And if you need any legal assistance at all, don't hesitate to reach out."

Anindya nodded and rose from her seat. Raditya... if I could build that company into an empire, tearing it down is nothing, she thought.

After Anindya left the room and her footsteps faded down the hall, a man in a black suit and dark sunglasses perched on his sharp nose emerged from a side door and settled into the chair she had just vacated.

Haryo stood briefly and dipped his head in a respectful bow. "You were right — she came, just as you predicted. Rest assured, I will do everything in my power to help her."

*

Anindya killed the engine as she pulled up to the grand house that had silently witnessed the arc of her life with Raditya. She sat still for a moment, drawing a long breath to compose herself, then stepped inside.

The moment she opened the front door, her eyes caught the scene in the living room. Raditya stood with his back to her, speaking into his phone in a voice so low it was nearly a whisper.

"...relax, everything's fine. She doesn't suspect a thing. I'll send the money tomorrow, same as always..."

The instant he heard the click of approaching heels, Raditya fumbled to end the call and shoved the phone into his pocket with clumsy haste. He turned, and a broad smile spread across his face as though nothing had happened.

"Sweetheart! You're home?" He strode quickly to greet her. "Come on, let's eat. I reheated everything for you."

Anindya simply stared at him in silence.

For the first time in her life, everything that once seemed perfectly ordinary now screamed with suspicion. The way Raditya jammed the phone into his pocket. The smile that once looked genuine now felt like a mask. The gaze that once brimmed with love now seemed to conceal a web of lies.

Every gesture, every word that left his mouth, even the way he walked — all of it now looked like a masterful performance by a seasoned actor.

How was I so blind? she thought, walking slowly toward him.

Her eyes stared straight into his. And in the depths of her heart, she spoke: You think you've been so clever hiding everything? Just wait. Now it's my turn to play. And I will make sure this game ends in your total defeat.

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