Chapter 4

In the past, a sudden softening like that would have been enough to make me cave immediately. I used to habitually make excuses for him—his company was under too much pressure during its transition, he was just exhausted, I needed to be his safe haven.

But now, looking at the digital stack of receipts where he used my money to spoil Vanessa, my head had never been clearer. His prestige was built entirely on bleeding me dry. The mess was his, and I was just his designated, unpaid maid.

"The card stays locked. Pay your own bill," I cut him off. "Or ask Vanessa. Aren't you celebrating her massive project success? Let her foot the bill."

I simply hung up.

The living room fell completely silent.

Without a second of hesitation, I issued direct orders to my private lawyer and my family's estate manager: immediately initiate the divorce asset liquidation process outlined in the prenuptial agreement, and file for demolition permits to bulldoze this villa—decorated entirely to his tastes—to the ground, and repurpose the land into a golf course.

I was going to wipe every trace of him off the map.

After sending the orders, my mother's face suddenly flashed in my mind.

In her hospital room five years ago, she had been incredibly weak, yet her grip on my hand was fierce. "Love whoever you want, Chloe. But sign the prenup. Never let a man treat your feelings like an ATM, and never leave yourself without a way out."

When I handed that prenup to Julian, he accused me of being cold-blooded and arrogant. "If you actually trusted me, you wouldn't need an escape route just to humiliate me!"

At the time, I almost wavered. I almost tore the contract up just to prove I loved him enough.

Julian eventually signed it with a dark expression. And for the past five years, he had used that agreement as a weapon to claim I didn't love him enough, constantly using it to guilt-trip me.

The next morning, I received the printed divorce papers from my lawyer.

Running my finger across the edge of the paper, I paused briefly. Years of marriage, ultimately reduced to a stack of cold paper. My mind was spinning with how to break the news to Julian.

Julian hurried down the stairs, dragging his suitcase.

He strode over, yanked open a drawer, and shoved his passport into his pocket. He radiated a restless, eager energy.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted the documents in my hands. "What's that?"

Before I could even answer, he grabbed a pen, snatched the papers from my grip, flipped straight to the very last page, and signed his name.

"Julian," I looked at him. "Aren't you going to read it?"

"Why would I?" He scoffed, tossing the pen back onto the table. "You're my wife. Do I not trust you?"

He grabbed his suitcase and walked straight out the door.

He didn't even see the cold, bitter smile pulling at the corners of my lips.

What a pathetic excuse. His "trust" was nothing but a brush-off so he could rush to celebrate his project's success on a romantic trip with Vanessa.

Ten minutes later, I received another call from Julian.

"What kind of crazy game are you playing now? Did you go after Vanessa again?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Stop playing dumb! Vanessa was just crying so hard she couldn't breathe. She just pulled an all-nighter finishing a project for the firm. I suggested taking her on a trip to reward her. If you're pissed, come at me—why are you bullying her!"

I dug my nails into my palms. Vanessa must have realized she could no longer put her usual luxury boutique shopping sprees on my tab, so she immediately started playing the victim, trying to direct Julian's anger at me.

"I haven't contacted her," I explained.

"Are you implying Vanessa is lying?" Julian exploded instantly. "Why are you so vicious? Last night you froze my card, and today you're biting her back?"

"I'm not going to waste my time arguing with you over her lies."

"I am so sick of you being so petty and calculating!" he roared, throwing out the ultimate weapon he loved to use most. "If you don't apologize to Vanessa right now, I swear to God, Chloe, I will divorce you!"

The threat echoed in the empty house. With just one word from Vanessa, he would brutally slam shut every door to hearing my side of the story.

For the past few years, whenever he brought up divorce, I would panic. I would compromise, reflect on my own flaws, and bow my head, terrified that he would actually leave. Even when everything was his fault.

For a brief moment, I felt a daze wash over me.

In exactly one month, the divorce proceedings would be fully finalized.

Julian had always been absolutely certain that I couldn't live without him. To him, "divorce" was never the final note of a broken relationship; it was a whip used to domesticate and control me.