Leah

“Divorce filing number one hundred. Mandatory cooling-off period: thirty days.” My heart thudded as the clerk stamped the documents.

This time, it felt final.

In the country’s family law, the thirty-day cooling-off period gave couples a chance to rethink. Most used it to reconcile.

But with Christian, it had become a weapon.

Before this, we had gone through ninety-nine divorce filings. Each time during the cooling-off period, I would plead with him to stay, and Christian would eventually agree to withdraw.

He used the law like a toy—testing how far he could push me, how desperately I would cling to him.

People didn’t blame him; he was Christian Hughes, the CEO of Hughes Group. I was just the “weak, good-for-nothing wife” they loved to mock.

“That’s the spineless Mrs. Hughes again.”

“No career, no status, no ability. No wonder he keeps divorcing her.”

“She should be grateful he even married her.”

Their snickers followed me as I left the courthouse. They were never afraid to say it loud. Christian had given them that freedom. He never defended me. He didn’t need to lift a finger—his silence was enough permission.

Watching him walk toward his luxury Maybach without a backward glance, I dug my nails into my palm to keep myself standing.

Maybe others expected me to call after him, run after him, cling to him like before.

But not this time.

I was done begging.

He slid into the backseat. The engine growled.

Before I could take a step, it drove past and the wing mirror bumped into my arm. My knees hit the ground, and gravel scratched my palms, blood spilling from the open wounds.

Snickers rose from the onlookers again.

“She can’t even stand properly. How embarrassing.”

“Look at all that blood from a tiny scrape. What a burden.”

Gritting my teeth, I shut my eyes, enduring the sharp pain that shot through my legs. Just then, the car’s tires screeched and came to a halt.

Through my tangled hair, I saw Christian sitting in the backseat of the Maybach, the window slightly open.

Dylan, his assistant and best friend, leaned out from the front seat with a mocking grin.

“Christian, want me to take Mrs. Hughes to the hospital first? Or do we head straight to the party?”

Silence.

I already knew the answer.

Christian’s voice came a moment later. “To the party.”

Even when expected, it sliced through me.

The car drove off, leaving only exhaust fumes and the ache in my chest.

I pushed myself up, legs trembling, and limped all the way back to the Hughes villa.

I fell more than once. I kept walking anyway.

Inside the villa, I pulled out my suitcase and began packing. Things that reminded me of Christian didn't deserve to come with me.

The jewelry he’d casually thrown at me after winning it last month at an auction; I trashed it.

The lighter I’d secretly kept also went to the trash, and the 999 paper stars I folded for him.

Then I pulled out a brown envelope from the deepest corner of the drawer.

It wasn’t my first time seeing it, yet even now, my fingers trembled as I opened it.

Love letters.

Letters Christian had written to me, but never sent.

[It’s hard to keep a straight face when you deliver breakfast with those clumsy hands. It’s cute!]

[Your messy handwriting isn’t so bad. I like it!]

[When you wore that red dress on your birthday, I almost couldn’t control myself from strangling those idiots. Only I should look at you.]

[I should’ve told you earlier—I delayed the idea of being with you for three years because watching you watch me was addicting.]

My throat tightened.

He had liked me. Maybe even loved me. But he preferred the twisted thrill of watching me beg.

“Don't go soft. He only loved control. ” I said to myself under my breath, crumpling the letters.

I fell for Christian at first sight during the college opening ceremony, when he was giving a speech as the student representative.

He was the Group’s heir at that time, desirable but unreachable.

I chased him relentlessly for four years; brought him breakfast even though he never ate it and memorized all his class schedules to “accidentally” run into him.

However, during graduation night, tragedy struck.

Christian’s father, the chairman of Hughes Group, died in an attack that shook the campus.

Christian had been injured—slashed across the chest by a rogue intruder.

I shielded him, taking the worst of the blow. It left me unconscious for days. But He had looked at me afterward—not with gratitude, but with resentment.

Under the company board’s pressure, and because public sympathy pushed the narrative that I “saved the young heir,” so he had to married me three years later.

But marriage didn’t soften him.

He had used countless trivial reasons to file for divorce ninety-nine times; over salty dishes, the way I dressed, even an extra “goodnight” text.

Each time, I had to plead humbly, begging him not to leave.

The ninety-ninth time, I even spent an entire night kneeling in his study before he reluctantly agreed to withdraw.

It was that night that I discovered these letters hidden in his locked safe.

I finally understood that Christian had always had feelings for me, but he repeatedly filed for divorce just to make me cry and beg. He treated my love and loyalty like a toy.

So when he filed for divorce for the hundredth time because I had dropped a few cookie crumbs in the car, I felt as if I had never truly known the man I had loved for seven years.

“This time, I’ll no longer play along in his stupid game!” I tossed the letters in the trash.

I wiped my tears hard and continued packing my luggage. But halfway through, I noticed that my mother’s keepsake was missing—a very old silver necklace, the only thing she had left for me.

I turned the whole Villa upside down but couldn’t find it. Except for the study. Christian was the only one who had access to it.

Then I paused with a realization. “Christian has my necklace!”

I walked into him last night coming out of my room when I went to announce that dinner was ready. He never went to my room before.

Thinking of the party address I had heard about earlier in court, I bit my lip, grabbed my coat, and stepped out.

I must get my necklace back.

Bass pounded through the walls, and the place reeked with a mix of testosterone and alcohol.

Laughter erupted from Christian’s private booth. I paused at the door.

“I bet five days! Leah won’t last five days before begging Christian to remarry!”

“Five days is too long. Everyone knows Leah can’t live without Christian. I’ll bet three days.”

“I’ll bet one day! Didn’t she kneel and beg Christian not to divorce him that very night last time?”

“Christian, how many days will you bet?” Dylan asked.

The room fell silent for a moment. Anger blurred my vision, and my fists trembled.

Just as he was about to speak, I suddenly pushed the door open and said, word by word:

“I bet a lifetime!”

The music stopped.

At the same time, an expensive perfume mixed with cigarette smoke swept past me.

Olivia Turner sauntered inside.

Her presence was the kind that made people straighten instinctively, just because she was the heiress of Turner Holdings, Christian’s long‑time business ally, and the woman everyone thought suited him far better than his “insignificant” wife.

“Sorry, I’m late.” She stopped beside Christian and linked her arm with his as if the place belonged to her. Then she looked straight at me, a sly smile pulling at her lips.

She was the last person I wanted to see.

From the moment Christian and I started dating, and even after we married, Olivia hovered in the background. For years, I suspected Christian had feelings for her and that I was the unwanted third wheel.

It wasn’t until I found the letters that I understood: Christian just used her to make me jealous. He enjoyed watching me squirm.

“There she is again, useless Mrs. Hughes who thinks she’s above bowing.”

“Not only does she disrespect her husband, she looks down on Miss Turner.”

“No wonder Christian wants to divorce her. ”

Whispers echoed around the VIP booth—snide, cruel, coming from Christian’s business acquaintances and their partners.

They mocked me for not cowering, not shrinking, but they had no idea I simply refused to play their social hierarchy game.

Christian’s eyes flickered with irritation. He shot me a hard glare, the kind that could freeze air.

I braced myself.

“Why’re you here?” He asked casually, but his hand slid deliberately around Olivia’s waist.

From the way he held my gaze, his eyes glinting, I could tell it was intentional. Clearly, he hadn’t heard my earlier words, distracted by Olivia’s entrance.

“My necklace is missing,” I said evenly. “I came to ask if it’s with you.”

Christian froze for a moment. He recovered himself, his tone cold and dismissive. “Is that all?”

“Why else would I be here?” His face immediately darkened.

I knew that expression well. Every time I didn’t follow his script, he looked at me like that.

The atmosphere tightened. A heavy, chilling tension filled the room. Conversations died. All eyes focused on the drama unfolding.

I curled my fists, refusing to flinch.

Christian thought I came to beg. He would realize soon enough—never again.

“Oh, don’t get upset, Leah.” Olivia chimed in sweetly. “Are you talking about that necklace with the moon-shaped charm? It was lovely. I mentioned I liked it, so Christian gave it to me. Unfortunately… I lost it on the way home.”

The room fell silent.

Even if I had no status compared to them, I was still Christian’s legal wife. He had no right to hand out my personal belongings like cheap trinkets.

But nobody dared to say that. Instead, their mocking gazes intensified.

I didn’t care that. All my focus narrowed to Olivia’s words. My necklace—lost?

“How dare you, Christian?” My voice trembled with fury. “What made you think you had the right to give away something that belongs to me?!”

Christian shot me a warning look, the kind that had silenced me a hundred times before. But this time, I didn’t stop.

“It’s just a necklace,” he said coldly. “Don’t make a scene. I can buy you ten more.”

“Just a necklace? That was my mother’s keepsake!”

More silence. Then whispers rippled through the room.

“An heirloom? Taking someone’s heirloom is the same as…”

“So what? This is just a small matter she can settle at home, not embarrass Christian in public!”

“Shameless. She’s always seeking attention everywhere.”

Christian’s expression flickered with surprise for a second. Amidst the whispers, he retained his indifferent expression. “It’s already gone. Stop making a fuss about it.”

I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood.

Even after I’d told him its importance, Christian still dismissed me as if it was something insignificant.

My voice cracked, but I forced myself to stand tall. “I’m done talking.” And I walked out.

If I stayed any longer, I might lose control.

And no matter how furious I was, I knew Christian’s temper could burn hotter and faster.

He wasn’t above crushing me if I embarrassed him too much.

Outside, the cold wind slapped my cheeks as I walked quickly, trying to hide my tears.

I grieved the loss of the necklace—my mother’s last memory.

Suddenly, I heard a noise above me. Before I could react, someone screamed from behind, “Watch out!”

I looked up and saw a massive billboard creaking as it began to fall, heading straight for me.

In a flash, Christian lunged toward me.

But when his eyes met mine, at the very last second, he forcibly changed direction, shielding Olivia beneath him.

“Bang!” The billboard crashed and the ground rumbled.

I wasn’t ready for the impact and my body flew in the opposite direction and crashed into the metal post nearby. Pain shot through my body, darkness consuming my vision.

How pathetic I must have looked at that moment.

Christian would rather let me get hurt than let anyone see how much he cared about me.

Two days later.

I woke up in a hospital room. The first thing I saw was the pale white ceiling.

I turned my neck with difficulty; the room was empty.

“You’re awake?” a nurse said as she entered to change my bandages. “You were unconscious for two days, but luckily it’s just a mild concussion.”

“Who brought me here?” My throat was parched.

“Mr. Hughes,” the nurse replied while adjusting the IV drip. “You were covered in blood, and he was frantic, almost overturning the entire hospital. But for some reason, after the doctor said you’d wake up soon, he hurriedly left, saying he had urgent matters to attend to. Quite strange, really.”

I closed my eyes and forced a bitter smile.

Not strange at all.

After all, he wouldn’t reveal even a hint of his true feelings for me in front of me.

For the next few days, I was alone in the hospital, healing slowly. Nobody came to check on me—not even Christian.

It wasn’t that I looked forward to him visiting; I was only bothered by the nagging anxiety gnawing at me, wondering what he would do next.

Just then, the door opened.

A gush of cold air traveled into the room as his aura, scent, and domineering presence engulfed the place. Olivia Turner was at his side, her expression carefully composed, a tight smile on her lips.

I know that he wasn’t here to comfort me. He was here to assert control.

“I envy you, Leah,” Olivia said sweetly. She tilted her head, clinging to Christian’s arm. “You recovered so quickly for someone in your condition. No wonder Christian had so much confidence in you. Unlike me,” she added, sighing dramatically. “I could have escaped the billboard on my own, but he rushed over and grabbed me first. Such a worrywart, right?”

My chest tightened.

Of course, Olivia would seize any opportunity to brag.

I ignored her and focused on folding my clothes, forcing my mind elsewhere.

The atmosphere shifted. Christian’s gaze darkened, the weight of his displeasure filling the room.

Silence and indifference weren’t what he expected. He wanted me to kneel and beg. He wanted me to react to Olivia’s provocation and flip out.

“Olivia will move in with us,” he announced. “Her house is getting renovated. She will stay with us for a few days.”

“Alright,” I replied, my tone light and unbothered.

It didn’t matter if Olivia stayed in the Villa forever. The mandatory cooling-off period would soon be over, and everything between us would end as well.

The tension in the air hardened as a murderous air filled the room. Christian was beyond enraged. He didn’t like my response.

Back at the villa, Christian escalated his little game. He touched Olivia casually, laughed louder when I walked by, testing me.

I sat silently, keeping to myself, deliberately ignoring his theatrics.

At dinner, Christian peeled a shrimp for Olivia and fed her by hand.

“This tastes better than last time,” he said smoothly. “I’ve told the staff to be extra attentive. Try it.”

“Christian, you spoil me too much!” Olivia giggled like a girl infatuated for the first time.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to eat slowly and deliberately.

“Ahhh! It hurts! It hurts!” Olivia’s screams suddenly echoed through the Villa walls. She scratched her neck as a red hive bloomed on the area. “It’s so itchy. Christian, please help!”

She didn’t appear to be acting. The red spots were spreading fast and her chest heaved heavily, her breathing ragged.

“Call the doctor, now!” Christian barked out. He sprang to his feet, scooped Olivia up, and transferred her to a couch in the living room.

The doctor soon appeared, looking haggard and out of breath. All the maids had gathered around as he checked on Olivia.

Curiosity got the best of me and I stayed there, watching everything unfold.

“Peanut allergy,” the doctor explained, wiping sweat from his brow. “Fortunately, she’s strong. If she were weaker, this could have been fatal, but she just fainted.”

Christian glared at the maids, a dark storm brewing in his eyes. “You must be tired of living. Have I not told you many times that she’s allergic to peanuts? Who dared to poison her?”

The staff froze, exchanging terrified glances. After all, everyone knows that Christian’s temper was notorious.

“Answer me!” he slammed his fist on the table, shattering a glass. “Who dared to poison Olivia?”

One maid fell to her knees, trembling. “It’s… it’s Mrs. Hughes. She told me to do it!”

All eyes turned to me.

I had been sitting calmly on the opposite couch, admiring my fingernails. Shock froze me for a moment.

“You!” I gasped. “When have I ever—”

“Haven’t you always been jealous of Miss Turner?” The maid burst into tears. “You brought peanut butter to the kitchen and forced me to put it inside Miss Turner’s food. You said you wanted to teach her a lesson so she wouldn’t stay here any longer.”

I blinked, my lips parting.

Christian walked toward me, each step deliberate, shaking the floor under him. “Leah,” he called my name in an icy voice. “I thought you would learn to behave after we left the Courthouse. Apparently, you hadn’t.”

I was about to argue when I noticed the corners of Christian’s lips curve up ever so slightly. Though it vanished in an instant, that trace of a smile had truly been there, and it left me stunned.

“Since you dared to make Olivia have an allergic reaction,” Christian said as he turned to grab a bottle of liquor from the cabinet, the bottom of the glass bottle striking the table with a crisp sound, “then you should have a taste of what it feels like to be allergic too.”

My blood turned cold. He knew. He had always known I was allergic to alcohol.

I took a step back. “No, you can’t–”

Two of his police appeared from nowhere and pinned me down. Christian poured more than half of the bottle straight down my throat.

The burning liquid scorched my esophagus. The itching and rashes spread across my body within seconds, and my breathing became more and more labored.

The last thing I saw before blacking out was Christian standing under the overhead light, calm, almost smiling.

He was smiling. He was damned smiling!

I woke up with a splitting headache and found myself in my bedroom.

The sheets smelled faintly of Christian. I almost thought I was imagining it until I found him sitting by the bed, flipping through some documents.

As if sensing I was awake, he said, “Don’t do anything like that again.”

I struggled to sit up, my throat burning painfully.

When I saw the clear relief in Christian’s expression, I suddenly understood — and the realization was agony.

Olivia’s allergy hadn’t mattered to Christian at all. What mattered was my recent coldness toward him. He wanted to see me jealous, see me lose control.

Just like the love letters locked away in that safe had said, he enjoyed watching me go crazy for him, losing all reason.

He enjoyed it.

But this wasn’t love. It was obsession and control.

Christian didn’t want my heart, he wanted my obedience.

And he will never going to get it again.

Two weeks later.

Champagne popped, chandeliers glittered, and the Villa buzzed with laughter and chatter.

Christian was throwing a lavish celebration party—for Olivia.

The entire evening, he hovered around her, straightening her gown, shielding her from spilled drinks, attending to her with the kind of meticulous care that would make anyone think she was the center of his world.

But Christian and Olivia weren’t a couple.

It was all a show.

“The way Christian dotes on Miss Turner… imagine if his wife weren’t so persistent,” a guest whispered.

“Miss Turner is powerful and accomplished. If it weren’t for Leah’s insistence, I’d swear Christian would have ended up with Olivia years ago.”

“Together, they look like the most influential couple in the city. I hope when the rankless one begs this time, Christian will discard her for real.”

I stood quietly on the side, ignoring their words.

Most of them weren’t too naive to realize that what Christian was doing was wrong, but they’d rather butter him up and get into Olivia’s good books.

The air stank of hypocrisy. My chest felt tight. I slipped out into the night, heading toward the lake for air.

The night breeze was crisp, and I took a deep breath, finally feeling alive again. I stared at the lake, just quietly soaking in the calm, enjoying the moment of peace.

But it didn’t last long, the fresh scent soon shifted, replaced by the sweet, cloying fragrance and tobacco notes emanating from Olivia.

During this time, I had been keeping to myself, avoiding her—not out of fear, but because I had no patience for her drama.

I stood up, intending to leave, but she blocked my way.

“You must have reached your limit by now,” Olivia said smugly, stopping beside me. “If I were you, I would have given up long ago. You chase Christian for years, and still—he doesn’t look at you the way he does at me. How pathetic.”

“Move aside,” I said coldly.

“What are you acting so high and mighty for?” she sneered. “You chased him for four years, been married three, and still can’t make him notice you—how sad. Even if I pushed you aside now, he wouldn’t even glance back.”

I clenched my fists and ignored her, brushing past as I walked by, but before I could get far, a sudden shove sent me crashing into the icy lake.

Water filled my nose and mouth. My lungs burned as I flailed.

I tried to react, but panic consumed me.

Just before my consciousness slipped away, I saw Christian, more terrified than I had ever seen him, racing towards me. Without hesitation, he threw off his shirt and dove into the water.

Strong arms closed around me, his powerful aura wrapping me like a shield. For one brief, unreal moment, the man who had been so cold to me now held me like I was the most precious thing in the world.

Then I passed out.

When I came to, I was lying on the grass, coughing up water. Christian knelt over me, performing CPR, his hands shaking, eyes locked on my face.

Relief flashed across his features when I started breathing again.

And Olivia stood frozen, pale and wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t understand why Christian looked so terrified of losing me.

“Than-” But before I could speak, his expression hardened, the same mask of indifference snapping back into place.

“Were you really so clumsy you couldn’t even walk straight?” His voice was cold, sharp. “Why did you fall in the water?”

“It’s not our fault!” I tried, still shivering from the cold. “It wasn’t an accident, Christian. Olivia pushed me!”

The onlookers gasped.

They all stared at me as if I’d gone crazy, including Christian.

“You!” Olivia’s eyes reddened. “Why do you like to slander me? I’ve told you there’s nothing between me and Christian.”

“Fine,” I sneered, my voice trembling as I moved toward the door. “If you won’t admit it, I’ll call the police. The police will investigate, and they’ll handle it fairly.”

Christian’s grip caught my wrist. “Stop being unreasonable. She didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I jerked my head up, unable to believe my ears. “She almost killed me!”

“You’re still standing here just fine, aren’t you?” Christian’s tone sharpened, his eyes narrowing in a warning glare. “Stop making a scene.”

I felt utterly absurd.

He needed Olivia as a pawn to provoke me, to make me jealous, but he clearly cared so little about my safety that the thought made me shiver.

“I’m not making a scene,” I said slowly. “I have to call police.”

“I said that’s enough!” Christian’s voice suddenly rose up, almost a roar. “You’re not thinking straight. Go back and reflect on yourself.”

Then he motioned to his police. “Take her to the confinement room. She can come out when she’s figured things out.”

“No!” I screamed as they grabbed me. My nails raked across their arms in struggle, one heel slipping and clattering to the floor.

“Christian! Are you insane? She tried to kill me!” I yelled, voice hoarse.

But he didn’t respond.

They threw me into the confinement room, slamming the door behind me.

This cramped room, barely three square meters, had no windows. Darkness surged over me like a tide, swallowing me whole.

My chest tightened. Claustrophobia hit me instantly, pulling me back to when I was ten. Tossed out, abandoned, and trapped in a cave… The same suffocating despair wrapped around me now.

They brought food.

I couldn’t eat or drink. The mental torture was far worse than the physical.

The next day, when the door finally opened and light flooded in, Christian stood there, towering in front of me. He looked at me, disheveled, barefoot, a shell of myself, and coldly asked, “Do you still want to report the matter?”

He was perfectly composed, a big contrast to my wretched self.

My lips trembled and a tear slid down my cheek. In a hoarse voice, I replied, “I want nothing.” But FREE.

All I wanted now was to escape him, escape everything here. If this was how he loved, I wished I had never met him!

Christian’s expression flickered, an uneasy look settling in his eyes. But he quickly smoothed it over and muttered, “Keep your word.” Then he turned and walked away.

I stumbled back into my room, collapsing face-down onto the bed, drained and completely worn out.

My mind echoed with the words I’d been trying desperately to shut out.

He chose her. He knew you weren’t wrong, and he still chose her.

I thought my tears had all dried up. I thought I was done crying over a romance that clearly wasn’t worth the pain. Yet the moment those thoughts resurfaced, the emotion I’d been suppressing surged through me again, tearing open everything I tried to hold together.

Hot tears soaked into the pillow. I curled up tightly, the pressure in my chest making even breathing feel painful.

I stayed like that until the next day, somewhere between exhausted and numb.

Finally, I dragged myself out of bed.

Crying was pointless. I could fall apart day after day and Christian still wouldn’t care.

I forced down a few tasteless bites of food and drank enough water just to keep myself functional.

Then my phone buzzed.

【A gathering of young entrepreneurs across all territories, to be held at Crown Hotel.

I stared blankly at the screen.】

These were the networking events I rarely attended — a world full of polished smiles, politics, and quiet competition. I never felt like I belonged.

But for some reason, the message tugged at something inside me… as if this might be the last time I let myself linger in the circle where Christian existed.

A final goodbye, maybe.

That evening, the Crown Hotel sparkled with lights, overflowing with laughter and clinking glasses.

I applied light makeup to conceal my swollen eyes and slipped into a simple white dress. It was modest compared to the glamorous gowns around me, but I didn’t care.

I leaned against the wall with a glass of apple juice, letting the noise wash over me.

“There you are!” Before I could react, someone grabbed my arm.

I turned my head. It’s Yvonne, the daughter of a well-known corporate doctor and my old roomwife, who always had a gift for finding people in a crowd.

“Oh my! How have you been, dear?” She hugged me warmly, then pulled me into a private room full of familiar faces.

Suddenly, this business gathering felt more like a college reunion.

Everyone in the room stared at me. There were chuckles and gasps of surprise.

“Isn’t that our school beauty, Leah?”

“Ha, she hasn’t changed, only a bit thinner and paler.”

“Makes me wonder about a particular person.”

My heart skipped a beat, knowing well who they were referring to. But no need to worry. This was one of those events Christian always deemed as a waste of his time.

Chances of running into him here were extremely low.

“Right, Leah. I wonder if your passionate pursuit of Christian ever succeeded,” Yvonne asked teasingly, her question drawing curious glances from others.

I paused for a moment, my thoughts traveling back to those days in college.

Almost everyone knew about my persistent pursuit of Christian, but we only got together after graduation, so almost no one knew the truth of our relationship, except his inner circle.

We didn’t have a wedding, no celebration, no announcement. Just a signed certificate in a quiet office.

I forced a faint smile. “Never won him.”

And if I had the chance to redo my life, I would never wish to meet him again.

Gasps erupted. “Even you couldn’t win him over?”

“Christian’s standards must be insane.”

“Well, he’s from an elite family, and Leah… no offense, but you weren’t exactly from the same world.”

“I always thought the difference was too big.”

Their casual judgments stung more than they should have.

“Don’t be sad,” Yvonne nudged my arm gently. “You’re beautiful, kind, intelligent, and so innocent. Trust me, most guys would line up just for a chance.”

She grabbed her phone. “Here — I know a few guys who might be perfect for you. Let me introduce—”

“Who are you matchmaking for?” A cool, indifferent voice cut across the room.

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

I froze.

Christian stood in the doorway… with his arm casually wrapped around Olivia’s waist.

He looked immaculate in a tailored black suit. Olivia, in a striking red dress, leaned against him like she belonged there.

All eyes turned to them. There were whispers of awe and amusement.

“Don’t tell me they’re together. I thought they were only good friends in college.”

“They were seen everywhere together and even crowned homecoming king and queen. What else did you expect?”

“Olivia Turner, we want to hear from the horse’s mouth. Are you two together now?”

Olivia blushed and smiled shyly, while Christian stayed silent. To the onlookers, the answer was obvious.

The group erupted into excited chatter. “What a power couple!”

I sipped my juice quietly, pretending not to hear anything. But Christian’s gaze was like a blade, fixed sharply on me.

The party gradually resumed its lively chatter, with small groups gathering to catch up.

After a while, someone shouted, “This party’s so boring. How about a game of truth and dare?”

He was none other than Dylan. His taunting gaze on me as he suggested that made me realize that he was up to no good.

Everyone agreed.

A few rounds later, the bottle pointed to Olivia. She glanced at Christian before choosing dare.

“Ha, Miss Turner. Kiss any man present for ten seconds, sharp!” Dylan winked.

The crowd immediately cheered, oblivious to their hidden intent.

No need to guess, they knew I was here. They’d planned this in advance.

Blushing, Olivia walked directly toward Christian, her footsteps bold, her lips holding a seductive smile.

Christian was leaning lazily on the sofa, but his eyes skipped past everyone to land on me.

Head down, quietly scrolling through my phone, I remained completely composed and unaffected.

His gaze turned icy.

When Olivia shyly stood in front of him, he pulled her into his arms, his lips crushing against hers!

The room exploded with cheers.

The kiss lasted far longer than ten seconds, and he even deliberately deepened it.

The crowd went wild! “Ten! Twenty! Twenty-five!”

I finally looked up at him, but my expression remained calm. Then I returned my gaze to my phone’s screen.

At my indifferent reaction, Christian’s face immediately darkened.

Christian became even more intiwife with Olivia.

He fed her, wrapped his arm around her waist, and whispered into her ear.

Yet, despite all his attention to her, his eyes kept drifting unconsciously towards me. I can feel it. He was dying, desperate, to get even a single reaction from me.

But I remained completely calm. I didn’t react at all.

When the party finally ended, I slipped away to the restroom.

The humid room and the hours of strain had worn away my makeup. The last thing I wanted was for Christian to catch even a glimpse of the exhaustion beneath my eyes.

Inside, I retouched my face, restoring the version of myself that looked composed and untouchable.

Finally, I left the restroom and walked down the quiet hallway.

At that moment, the scent of Olivia’s expensive perfume drifted through the air. She was definitely nearby.

But before I could get out of her way, Olivia suddenly appeared and blocked me at the corner of the hallway.

It was obvious that she’d been standing there, waiting for me to leave the restroom.

“I thought you might want to see this,” she said, waving her phone in front of me with a sugar-sweet smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Apparently, Christian and I couldn’t get enough. We had to finish what we started.”

She showed me the photos on her phone; pictures of her kissing Christian right after the party was over.

“Here’s a piece of advice, Leah.” Olivia chortled. “Christian and I are meant for each other. He truly loves me. If you were smart, you would save yourself the embarrassment and stop humiliating yourself by begging him to take you back like the previous ninety-nine times. Finalize the divorce once and for all!”

I ignored her and her words, and turned to walk away.

Honestly, Olivia was simply deceiving herself. If I hadn’t known that Christian was just using her to spite me, I might have regarded her.

However, in my eyes, she was only making a fool out of herself by saying that.

Obviously, my actions angered her. Just in a moment, Olivia’s face darkened with anger. She stepped forward, voice sharp.

“You think you’re better than me? You think you can just ignore me?”

I turned, expression neutral.

Olivia wasn’t used to being disregarded. She was used to people reacting, flinching, shrinking under her provocations.

But I simply stared at her and waited.

It infuriated her.

“Fine!” she snapped. “If you won’t bow, you’ll suffer for it!”

Her anger cracked, turning vicious.

Just then, Christian’s footsteps thundered down the hall.

Olivia instantly shifted — like a switch flipping.

Before I could react, she raked her nails across her own cheek.

Deep enough to draw blood.

Then she let out a piercing scream.

“Ahhh! Help!”

Christian rushed in. She collapsed dramatically into his arms.

“Christian!” she cried. “She slapped me — and scratched me!” Blood streaked her face. She was breathing in desperate little gasps, like a perfect damsel.

And she didn’t stop. “If our classwifes hadn’t forced me into that kiss, I would never have done it. But Leah was jealous, she attacked me!”

Christian held Olivia, but his gaze was fixed on me. “So your calmness was just a mask,” He scoffed. “What an actress.”

A secret satisfaction flickered in his eyes, even though he maintained a cold expression. He must be gloating that I’d finally reacted and showed jealousy.

“Olivia and I were only playing a game,” He stated in a cold, frosty voice. “Besides, we’re divorced, Leah. What I do is none of your damn business. If you want to make up, show some sincerity. Don’t try to get my attention by hurting Olivia.”

In a calm voice, I replied, “You must be mistaken, Christian. I didn’t hit her. It’s she-”

“Nonsense!” He interrupted me.“Since you like playing these little games so much, spend tonight reflecting on it in the bathroom.”

At that moment, I suddenly caught sight of the necklace around Olivia’s neck—my necklace—and just moments ago, she had clearly been hiding it beneath her hair and clothing.

I was so stunned by the sight of it that I didn’t even react before Christian shoved me into the bathroom.

Metal clicked, and the door was locked.

I pounded on the door.

“Hey, open it! Let me out! She has my necklace!” I pounded on the door with all my strength until my palms were red and numb.

No response.

Minutes blurred into hours.

Finally, the lock clicked again — but it wasn’t Christian.

I rushed forward, but crashed into three large men instead.

Corporate private security — but not from Christian’s company.

“Are you Leah Campbell?” the one in front asked.

“I’m not—” I sensed something was wrong and tried to run, but a heavy punch slammed into my stomach.

Agonizing pain doubled me over, only for someone else to yank me up by my hair.

“Smack!” A slap rang out, leaving my eardrums buzzing as blood trickled from the corner of my mouth.

“Pretty face, but no shame at all.” One of the police gripped my chin, his other hand patting my cheek in a mocking manner. “Tonight, we’ll teach you how to behave.”

Fists and boots rained down on me like a storm.

I curled up on the cold floor, protecting my head with my arms. I could feel my ribs threatening to crack, but I gritted my teeth and refused to cry out.

“That’s enough. Miss Turner only asked us to teach her a lesson,” One of them said and they all left immediately.

A moment later, Olivia’s mocking laugh echoed down the hall.

“Let’s see how long you can keep your head up, you pathetic nobody.”

I painfully turned over and stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily.

As blood trickled down my forehead, my lips twitched with a faint painful smile.

This was probably the outcome Christian had truly wanted. Olivia was his weapon. He might still care for me, but deep down, he wanted to see me utterly broken, living a life worse than death.

He got what he wanted, but… this would be the last time!

I dragged my aching body back home, my breathing labored as I limped up the stairs.

Thunder rumbled outside. My clothes were soaking weight and heavy, each step more difficult than the previous one.

“Christian, it’s pouring outside and the constant clapping of thunder keeps me awake. Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?” Olivia’s voice, sweet and meek, traveled from the stairs.

I gripped the railing tightly, fighting through the pain with every step as I climbed the stairs, cold sweat running down my back.

“I have no time—” Christian started to turn away, a hint of impatience in his voice. But the moment his eyes landed on me, he changed his mind immediately.“Ha… as if! Your affairs always come first.”

“Thank you so much Chris.” Olivia had a triumphant look as she followed him inside, glancing over her shoulder to snicker at me.

I didn’t react. I simply kept climbing. Then I closed myself in the guest room.

For days, I barely left it. I stayed home, immersing myself in a design competition.

It was the career path I intended to pursue. The only thing I loved doing and was best at.

Back in college, I had been one of the top students in my department. My mentor, Beatrice Anderson, had told me I would shape the future of design.

But ever since Christian saw a male colleague escort me home, that dream had crumbled. That day, he gave me two options; resign from my job or divorce.

I didn’t argue. I resigned, quietly submitting to his will—a mistake I’d regretted every day since. He had wanted me jobless, my world revolving entirely around him.

Now, at my drawing board again, designing filled me with self-worth and calm, washing away the chaos that had consumed me recently.

As I made the final adjustments to my design, I was engrossed, my fingers swift and steady as they moved with the brush.

Just then, a crashing sound jolted me back to the present.

Without knocking, Christian and Olivia barged into my room by kicking the door.

Christian’s eyes settled on my design sheets, his face darkening the moment he saw my sketches. “So this is why you’ve been too quiet recently and never left your room.”

Before I knew it, he snatched the brush from my hand. “Have I not told you not to sketch any design? Stop immediately if you want me to reconsider canceling the divorce.”

I stared at him, my fingers balling as I fought the urge to laugh in his face.

How could he still think that his threats would have any effect on me?

However, instead of responding, I stayed silent and bent down, calmly gathering my sketches.

Christian must have thought that I’d yielded. He tossed the brush aside and left, looking satisfied. But Olivia lingered, her eyes fixed with interest on the design sheets.

Three days later.

I paced back and forth in my room, anticipating the result of the design competition. Then a call came from one of the organizers.

I sighed in relief and answered it. “Hello–”

“Miss Campbell, your work might be suspected of plagiarism, and if you can’t prove otherwise, you’ll be disqualified.”

Shock froze me.

How could that be possible?

I worked day and night, and didn’t even look at the internet for any inspiration. That work was purely from my own imagination.

“Can you tell me whose work you suspect I copied?”

“The popular artist, Olivia Turner,” he said. “Your designs look similar. Miss Turner is well-known; if anyone copied, it couldn’t be her.”

The pieces clicked together. Olivia’s lingering gaze on my work.

“I can prove it’s mine. I have the original draft,” I said.

After hanging up, I searched frantically, turning the entire room upside down. But the manuscript seemed to have disappeared. I couldn’t find it.

No way!

I hadn’t taken it out of this room. But where was it?

“Looking for this?” Olivia suddenly appeared, leaning on the door frame while fanning herself with a design sheet.

My original draft!

Fighting down my rage, I demanded, “You really did plagiarize my work! Don’t you feel ashamed?”

“Your work or mine?” Olivia raised a brow, smiling smugly. “This design was already mine before you submitted it. I told Christian I liked it, and he gave it to me.”

How dare he!

She leaned close to my ear and whispered, “See? Chris likes me. Accept it, stop thinking about getting back together. It’s better for everyone if you just leave.”

My mind went completely blank. I immediately rushed to the study to confront Christian.

“How dare you give out my design?”

Christian didn’t react. He casually flipped through the document in his hand, his expression calm. “If you had listened to me and stopped, it wouldn’t have happened.”

My fists shook rapidly as the rage inside me threatened to erupt.

Why is he always like this?

Disregarding my preferences, ignoring my feelings.

If it weren’t for those love letters, I truly wouldn’t believe that this man had ever cared for me.

Arguing now was pointless. The original draft was with Olivia, and she must have already shown it to the competition organizers.

I returned to my room, dejected for the first time after several days. I’d thought Christian’s actions would never hurt me again. I’d almost believed that I had become immune to his torture.

I sat on the bed, dazed, my heart sinking at the realization that I could be forever disqualified from any competition.

Then my phone rang. Beatrice Anderson, my mentor's name, flashed on the screen, and I hesitated.

“Leah, it’s been so long. How have you been?” Her voice sounded excited. “ I’ve seen your work in the competition. Are you planning to return to the design world?”

“Yes, teacher, but I didn’t cheat.” I choked back tears as I defended myself.

Beatrice replied. “I believe you, Dear. I’ve always known your talent is unmatched. Sadly, you gave up halfway to success.”

“Yeah, I’d been foolish,” I replied. “I have filed for divorce, ready to start anew.”

“That’s awesome! Thank goodness I didn’t lose my student forever!” Beatrice laughed. “Come to my studio. I’ll nurture you into a star!”

I covered my mouth and gasped. She didn’t mean it, right?

“Is it possible to come and work with you?”

“What do you mean?” Beatrice feigned anger. I could imagine her pouting her lips. “Who knows my student’s talent better than I do? It would have been better if you hadn’t given up back then.”

I took a deep breath. “Fine, I’ll go. I’ll leave as soon as the divorce is finalized.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than Christian pushed the door open, his gaze dark and fixed on me. “Where are you planning to go?”

I quickly hung up the call, forcing myself to stay calm. “You must have misheard.”

Suspicion flashed in his eyes, but he didn’t press further. “The Sterling Summit Dinner is tomorrow. Given the tension between you and Olivia, I’ll take you there.”

The Sterling Summit Dinner.

I had begged Christian before to take me to such corporate events — exclusive, influential gatherings for elite business partners. But he’d always dismissed me as irrelevant.

But now he was offering to take me? Why?

I wanted to refuse. My instinct screamed this was a trap.

But the more I hesitated to reply, the more Christian narrowed his eyes. When his gaze sweeping to the phone in my hand, to avoid raising his suspicion, I nodded. “Fine.”

The next evening.

Crystal lanterns glowed as guests gathered in the private estate hosting the dinner. A string quartet played softly, and the sparkling city skyline shone beyond the glass walls.

At this time, Christian fussed over Olivia — fixing her shawl, guiding her steps, handing her champagne.

To onlookers, they looked like the golden couple, the ideal PR pairing.

And I wasn’t even an afterthought. Once we entered, I may as well have evaporated.

Good. One less burden.

I sat on a marble bench near the terrace doors, staring at the elegant arrangements and mingling guests. Then suddenly, Olivia sat dramatically beside me. I suppressed an inward groan.

She grabbed my wrist. “Christian brought us here to smooth things over, but you’re sulking? In front of all these people, it looks suspicious.”

I tried to pull away, but she held tightly, projecting that sweet smile with a hint of venom.

“What are you driving at?” I asked, calm but alert.

“You should come up to the Sky Lounge with me” she said.

I frowned. “Why? Isn’t it crowded enough up there already?”

She smiled faintly, glancing toward the glass elevator. “There are many of the city’s most prominent ladies up there — noblewomen, philanthropists, the kind of people who matter. I thought you might like to meet them. It’s a perfect chance to show that our… relationship isn’t strained. Don’t you want to look civilized in front of everyone?”

Her words sounded polite, almost friendly, but I knew better. It was a trap dressed as a social opportunity: elevate me to a visible platform and subtly humiliate me if I faltered.

I glanced toward Christian. He was chatting with the chairman of a major design association, engrossed, oblivious to our movements.

I exhaled slowly and stood. “Fine.”

The Sky Lounge was on the estate’s top floor, an exclusive terrace designed for VIP guests. Glass railings framed the skyline, lights of the city sparkling like stars below. Several ladies in designer gowns were chatting, sipping champagne, and watching the view. The scene screamed influence, power, and social prestige.

Olivia walked ahead, guiding me toward a group of elegantly dressed women. I kept my composure, following closely but maintaining a measured distance. I whispered inside, reassuring myself. ‘It’s okay. She can’t do anything.’

“You know, Christian has promised to take me to the Maldives once your divorce is finalized,” Olivia gloated as we crossed them. “As our first vacation together, I’m so excited.”

I remained calm, highly alert.

Olivia continued speaking, stating the places she planned to go with Christian and the activities they would do. She asked if it would be better to fall pregnant early or after marriage.

Each of her words was meant to taunt me and make me lose my stance.

Her final statement, “Consider yourself lucky that you didn’t manage to fall pregnant. Who knows, your baby could be orphaned tonight.”

Then a whoosh!

I sidestepped before Olivia could push me from behind. She stumbled forward and her hand struck the wooden railing, which wasn’t sturdy; it broke apart from just a single impact.

Olivia fell headfirst down the sky Lounge. Everything happened so suddenly. She quickly grabbed onto another railing, and screamed out for help. “Ahhh! Christian, help!”

But unfortunately, that railing snapped.

Who knew the railing could be so fragile? I tried to run to the edge of the rooftop to save her, but the moment my hand touched hers, she yanked me hard. Caught off guard, I fell right after her.

Thorn bushes and rocks layered the ground. I shut my eyes, bracing myself for the impact, but it never came. Instead, I landed in a pair of strong arms.

Opening my eyes, I saw Christian, his face a mask of panic as he held me tightly, his breath coming in short gasps.

I was about to speak, but he immediately tossed me aside as if I were something forbidden to touch.

“I caught the wrong person,” He said awkwardly and then dashed to Olivia who had fallen to the ground, bleeding and unconscious.

People swarmed around her in alarm.

“She’s injured badly! Call a medical team!” Christian looked distraught.

At the hospital.

A doctor hurried up. "She's losing a lot of blood and needs an urgent transfusion! The blood type is RH negative. The supply is low!"

Christian immediately looked straight at I.

"You're RH negative too." That wasn't a question, but a statement.

I leaned on the wall, my knee still bleeding. I met Christian's eyes and suddenly understood what he wanted.

"Give blood," he said, stepping in close and whispering, "If you do, I'll take back the divorce."

His breath brushed past my ear. It smelled cold and familiar.

There was a time when being that close would've made my heart flutter. Now, all it did was make me feel empty.

When the nurse handed over the consent form, I signed it right away.

I couldn't let Christian start suspecting anything—not when I had plans to leave for Paris.

I had to play it safe.

As the needle went in, I turned my head away, watching the blood slowly drip into the bag. One bag filled, then another.

"Stop right there!" the nurse suddenly called out. "She's already at her limit!"

My vision blurred, and a ringing filled my ears.

Everything felt hazy. I saw Christian standing nearby, frowning. His lips were moving, but I couldn't hear a word.

The stark white walls of the rehabilitation suite made my eyes ache. Weak and pale, I remained under the private nurse’s care for several days after the surgery.

During this time, Christian never came to visit me. Instead, Olivia flooded my phone with messages.

She kept sending me images of Christian feeding her porridge as she recovered, staying by her side day and night, and even Olivia stealing a kiss on his cheek while he slept.

I deleted each photo as soon as it came. In the end, I blocked Olivia’s line, not because the sight of those photos affected me, but because the constant beeping of my phone from the notifications always gave me a headache.

On the last day of the divorce cooling-off period, I woke up early.

I packed the last piece of cloth, slipped the necklace into my bag, and zipped it. After seeing the necklace on Olivia that day outside the restroom, of course, I didn’t forget about it.

I’d sneaked into her room one evening when she was out with Christian and had secretly taken it from her jewelry box.

The necklace must be too insignificant to Olivia that she might not have noticed that it was missing.

Well, nobody was going to have what belonged to me again. Not Christian, and definitely not Olivia.

I took one last look at my bag. In it was my ticket for the three o’clock flight to Paris. These past days, while I was recovering, we’d communicated frequently with my mentor.

Everything was done, and only one thing needed to be done now.

At that moment, the door opened.

Christian appeared, dressed in a sharp suit, looking like he had just finished an important business meeting.

My eyes lingered on his handsome face more than they should, my mind wiring back to the first time I saw him.

His expression was unusually calm today, and he carried a peaceful air around him, his aura radiating charm.

Christian went straight to the point, standing straight and rigid. “Olivia is out of danger. I’ll honor my promise to accompany you to cancel the divorce application.”

I paused.

Did he make that promise? When? Was it the time I was nearly unconscious from physical exhaustion and emotional breakdown?

“But,” Christian added. “Keep in mind that if you make the same mistake again, I’ll still insist on divorce.”

I smiled, not helping but finding his words laughable. There was never going to be a next time.

I’m going to live a life that’s truly my own.

The ride to the Courthouse was silent. I gripped the strap of my bag tightly, taking in the familiar road I’d always dreaded to pass. But now, I only felt anxious to get there as soon as possible.

When the car stopped in front of the Courthouse, Christian unbuckled his seatbelt. “Hurry. Olivia hasn’t fully healed. I need to go back quickly and check on her.”

I glanced at the Courthouse doors.

Security personnel guarded the building—routine, firm, and unyielding. There was no escaping this now. Perhaps I needed an excuse.

Just as I was about to speak, however, the sound of Christian’s phone’s ringtone made me pause.

He answered the phone and placed it to his ear. He must have intentionally put it on speaker, because I heard every word the other person was saying.

“Christian, tell me the truth! Have you gone to cancel the divorce with Leah? Was that why you sent me back?” Olivia was wailing like a baby.

“I only sent you back because your father was worried,” Christian replied. “Stop crying, I’ll come over as soon as possible.”

“Please come immediately! I’m in pain!”

After hanging up, Christian stared at me. “Olivia has been emotionally unstable since the stress of the accident. I sent her to her family’s estate to recover. I need to go check on her. Take care of the divorce paperwork and let me know once it’s done.”

Inside, relief washed over me, but I remained composed and nodded calmly. “I will.”

Christian drove away, his car gathering dust as it raced out of the area.

I stood outside the Courthouse, watching until the Maybach was out of sight. Then I turned and entered inside, ignoring the whispers.

“Mrs. Hughes shows up again.”

“Another attempt to cancel, hm? Maybe next time they’ll finally split for good.”

“She endured so much humiliation. Hard to believe she put up with it this long.”

“At least she won’t have to compete with Christian’s darling Olivia anymore.”

When I arrived, the familiar Clerk smiled at me.

He brought out the 99 divorce filings with the 100th one sitting at the top. He must have kept all of them for the records.

“I bet you’re here to cancel the divorce again,” He said. “Mr. Hughes told me to do as you wish.” Christian must thought that my greatest desire was to cancel the divorce just like the previous times.

I shook my head, sat down, and took out the prepared documents from my bag. “I am here to collect the Divorce Certificate.”

The Clerk’s expression shifted.

His eyes stayed on my face for a few seconds as if wondering if he’d heard me correctly. “Pardon me, Mrs. Hughes.”

“I said I am here to collect the Divorce Certificate,” I repeated with a smile. “Please make it fast.”

I glanced at my wristwatch.

Time was running. The flight would take off in just an hour, and I needed to be at the airport in the next forty-five minutes.

The Clerk kept on glancing at me as he issued the Certificate. After he was done, he stamped it and announced loudly. “Divorce finalized. The bond fading will take effect immediately. Miss Campbell, good luck!”

There were gasps outside. No doubt, the passersby were eavesdropping on us. But I didn’t care it anymore.

I picked up the Divorce Certificate and walked away. Back in the Villa, I placed Christian’s copy of the Certificate on the coffee table, then grabbed my already-packed suitcase and left.

The soft click of the door closing marked the severing of a seven-year-long infatuation.

On the way to the airport, the sunlight was perfect. I rolled down the car window, closed my eyes, and let the air caress my skin. Then I smiled, a sense of freedom filling me.

This time, there’s no turning back.

Goodbye for good, Christian.