Chapter 3

I arrived at the hotel forty minutes early on the day of the banquet.

It was the same place as in my last life: that old, well-known club in the city center, the top-floor ballroom, with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over half the city’s night skyline.

Last time I stood here, all I could think about was how to pitch the pilot program for our next-generation AI in the best possible light. This time my mind was calm. A lot of things would repeat—but the ending would belong to someone else.

The event was being run by the hotel’s in-house team. The screens, sound system, lighting, and stage setup had all been tested and calibrated.

My assistant was standing by the check-in table. The moment she saw me, she hurried over and handed me the run sheet. “Mr. Black, most guests have confirmed. The media and investors are all on the list. Mrs. Black said she’ll arrive a little later.”

I took the run sheet without asking anything else and flipped straight to the last page, my eyes landing on the line that read: BIG SCREEN PLAYBACK TEST.

I closed the run sheet and looked toward the screen control area.

The one running the playback was a hotel technician, a man in his thirties with a work badge on his chest.

I’d already spoken to him two days earlier, but I still went over in person. I stopped in front of him and said casually, “No matter who brings you a USB drive later, or who asks you to switch the media last-minute, you only play the final version that I approved. Understood?”

He nodded quickly. “Understood. The playback list you specified has been locked separately on the main control computer.”

I looked at him. “And if someone insists on changing it?”

He froze for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected me to ask so bluntly.

I finished the sentence for him. “Then you tell them the system requires authorization from the person in charge. Without my confirmation, nobody touches it.”

He answered at once, “Yes, sir.”

I didn’t say anything else and turned to walk inside. Quite a few guests had already arrived in the ballroom—glasses clinking, low conversations, servers moving through the crowd with trays.

A few partners saw me and lifted their drinks with smiles. I returned the greetings one by one, my expression no different from usual. Some asked how preparations for the product launch were going. Others joked that I’d finally agreed to bring my wife out to show her face tonight.

I dealt with it all the way I always did.

The more normal everything looked, the more careful I had to be not to show a single crack.

Claire was good at reading people. If she sensed that I knew anything, she might not play her part the way she had last time.

At 7:20, Luke arrived.

He wore a dark gray suit, and when he came in through the doors he looked exactly the way he always did—polite, presentable, composed, like any competent business consultant.

He chatted with two investors for a few minutes, took a glass of champagne from a passing server as if by habit, and only then walked over to me.

“Noah,” he said with an easy smile. “There are a lot of people here tonight. Looks like everyone’s very interested in your new project.”

I smiled back. “After working on it this long, it’s time to let it be seen.”

“Exactly.” Luke stood beside me and lowered his voice, as if it were just casual small talk. “But no matter how good the technology is, you still need a stable public image. You and Claire… everything okay lately?”

It sounded like concern, but just like in my last life, it was a test—checking where I stood.

I took a sip of champagne and replied evenly, “Married couples have friction. It’ll pass in a few days.”

Luke’s smile deepened. “True. Claire has her own opinions, after all. Don’t be too forceful.”

I turned to look at him. “You’re very concerned about her.”

Luke didn’t change expression. “I just hope you two don’t affect the atmosphere in the company.”

I nodded and didn’t pursue it.

At 7:35, Claire arrived.

She was wearing a long white dress, her hair pinned up. The moment she entered, she drew attention. A few of the partners’ wives went up to greet her with bright smiles, chatting as if nothing had ever happened.

I stood where I was and watched her move through the light like someone performing a script I already knew by heart.

Minute by minute, time passed.

7:45. The first round of toasts began.  

7:52. The media table had cameras set up and ready.  

7:58. The most important partners had all arrived.  

8:00. The noise in the room naturally started gathering toward the center.

I kept watching the clock.

Not because I was nervous, but because I knew she would strike at eight. What she wanted was never a private argument. She wanted a public conviction.

At 8:03, Claire tapped her wineglass.

The crisp clink wasn’t loud, but it was enough to make people nearby pause.

A few glances turned toward her first, then spread outward in widening circles. The ballroom quieted quickly. Even the servers at the back slowed their movements.

Claire stood under the brightest light. She wore a faint smile, glanced at me, then looked out at everyone.

“Sorry to take up a few minutes,” she said gently, poised and composed. “Tonight was supposed to be a business gathering for Obsidian Tech. I really shouldn’t steal the spotlight, but there are some things I think I still have to say.”

It was the exact same opening as last time.

First she praised me—said I was capable, said it hadn’t been easy for Obsidian Tech to come this far, said I’d sacrificed a lot for the company. She even laughed as she brought up stories from our early marriage, the nights we stayed up together building projects, her tone nostalgic, like she was describing a relationship other people envied.

A number of guests visibly relaxed. Some even laughed along with her.

Then she paused.

I saw her eyes redden quickly.

“But I think…” She drew in a quiet breath. “What you all see is only the side of him he shows the world. What you don’t see is what life is like for me at home.”

The room fell even quieter.

She set her glass down, clasped her hands in front of her as if bracing herself, and continued, “A lot of people think marrying Noah is a lucky thing. Yes, he’s successful, he’s talented, and he has given me a comfortable life. But over the years, I’ve started to feel less like a wife and more like an employee.”

At that line, people began exchanging looks.

She didn’t give anyone time to think. “He tells me what time to come home, who I can meet, and where I can go. If he decides someone isn’t appropriate, I have to cut them off. He needs to know about my driver, my assistant, my daily schedule—everything. If I even talk to someone a little longer than he likes, he interrogates me about it.”

She forced a small smile, a touch of self-mockery in it. “Maybe he calls that caring. But to me, it feels like control.”

I stood there, listening as the exact same speech replayed almost word for word, my chest steady, my mind coldly calm.

Whispers had already started in the crowd.

“No way—Noah doesn’t look like that kind of person.”  

“You never know.”  

“She dares to say it in public. It can’t be nothing.”

The voices weren’t loud, but they were loud enough to seep into every ear.

Claire lifted a hand and wiped at the corner of her eye, as if trying hard to hold herself together.

“I never wanted to bring our private life here,” she said softly. “But I’ve endured for too long. Every time I try to speak for myself, he tells me I don’t understand, that I’m childish, that I’ll hurt the company. Like as long as he uses the company as a reason, he can justify anything.”

I could feel more and more eyes settling on me.

Some were shocked. Some were doubtful. Some had already turned faintly disapproving.

An investment manager seated on the left even shook his head slightly, as if he’d already made up his mind.

Claire saw the moment was right and finally delivered the key lines.

“I know saying this here will make a lot of people uncomfortable, and it will make Obsidian Tech look bad,” her voice trembled slightly. “But if I don’t say it today, I may never get the chance again. I don’t want to keep living in a life where I’m watched, arranged, and decided for. I want to be myself again.”

A female guest murmured, “That’s so sad.”

In my last life, hearing that line had pinned me in place, and I’d been a beat too slow even to explain.

Now I only watched Claire.

At last, she turned to face me.

“Noah, you always say everything you do is for my own good,” she said, her voice not loud but strong enough to carry through the room. “Then today, for once, do something for my good—let me go.”

After saying that, she pulled a divorce agreement from her handbag and placed it on the table beside her.

The sound of paper landing wasn’t loud, but it cut through the air like a blade.

The room fell completely silent.

Almost everyone was watching me, waiting for my reaction. Some were ready for a spectacle; others were calculating whether this mess would affect their partnerships with Obsidian Tech.

Luke stood at the edge of the crowd, wearing a restrained, heavy expression—like a bystander who couldn’t bear to see a friend in pain.

I guided her on purpose. “You say I control you—do you have proof?”

Claire didn’t stop. She knew words alone weren’t enough. She needed “evidence.”

She took a breath, turned to the crowd, and looked as if she’d finally made a difficult decision. “I know you might not believe me if it’s just my word. Since I’ve already come forward today, I’m not afraid to let you see it with your own eyes.”

She raised her hand, signaling the staff to switch to the big screen.

“Show it,” she said.

The lights in the ballroom dimmed slightly, and everyone’s gaze instinctively shifted toward the huge screen.

Some people lowered their glasses. Some took out their phones.

And I simply found a chair, sat down, and looked at Claire.

There was a calm certainty on her face, like she had already won.

The screen slowly lit up.

Claire turned to look, the corner of her mouth still holding that carefully measured expression of restrained grievance.

The next second, she froze.