To Zinnia, the word “divorce” didn’t quite fit.
What existed between them was better described as “contract termination.”
Still, from a legal standpoint, “divorce” was technically accurate.
She nodded. “Don’t worry. I chose to sign that contract willingly. As for the compensation you promised, I don’t need it. After all, we were just helping each other out—neither of us lost anything.”
Trying to diffuse the awkwardness, she gestured around the elegantly understated mansion and joked, “I mean, I even got to live in a place like this.”
But as soon as she saw Landon’s brooding silence, Zinnia fell quiet.
“I don’t agree.”
Landon’s answer was firm and unequivocal.
“Why not?”
Zinnia was taken aback. She thought she was being considerate. This decision was good for both of them—surely he’d agree.
He stared coldly at her furrowed brow for a long moment before finally replying, “The contract isn’t up yet.”
Her frown deepened. “There’s less than two months left. Ending it early won’t hurt anyone—what’s the harm?”
“It’s not happening.”
Landon stood from the sofa, his expression stony. He looked down at her confused face and said, “Zinnia, you signed a three-year contract. Not a minute less, not a second. That was the deal.”
“But—”
“I honor my commitments,” he cut her off, his voice icy. “I expect you to do the same, Dr. Quinn.”

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