The private jet had barely touched down when Arzhen Vasiliev descended the steps. He was furious, feeling like he had been thwarted by time itself.
His phone was still clutched in his hand, the email from his legal team burning a hole through the screen.
The divorce decree had come through. Finalized. Signed by the judge. Faster than they had predicted, weeks faster, as though someone had reached into the machinery of the legal system and greased every wheel between filing and judgment.
"Explain to me," Arzhen hissed coldly, "how could it possibly be processed this quickly."
Yes, it was an uncontested divorce with no settlement, no alimony, no property disputes, nothing, which usually would go the most smooth and fast. But this was uncannily faster.
