It was the third month since Declan and I had gotten remarried. I found a dried, dark red bloodstain on the soft leather cushion of his car seat. Declan raised an eyebrow, his tone incredibly casual. "She was a virgin." Unlike my usual hysterical, screaming meltdowns, I simply asked in a gentle voice, "Should I have this detailed?" Later, while accompanying Declan to an elite socialite gathering, his friends loudly discussed the young college girl he had been keeping on the side. "Dec, man! The girl you're keeping is actually a virgin? And in the car, no less? You really know how to have a good time!" Someone whispered a warning: "Keep it down, man. His wife is right here." But the guy purposely raised his voice even louder: "What wife? After the divorce, she couldn't handle being broke. She came crawling right back, begging Dec to remarry her. All that 'pride' and 'dignity' shattered into a million pieces the exact second her family went bankrupt!" Faced with the overwhelming, public humiliation... I maintained a perfectly elegant smile, sipping my champagne. I didn't lose my mind and start screaming curses at them like I used to. On the ride home, I closed my eyes to rest. Declan frowned, interrogating me. "Chloe, why didn't you say anything back to those insulting comments tonight?" He had probably forgotten that the last time I screamed myself hoarse fighting back against them, the result was the total annihilation of my family's business and a set of divorce papers. I had my AirPods in, my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. Declan sighed, a hint of helplessness in his voice. "The jokes they made today were definitely out of line. No matter what, you are my wife. They should have given you basic respect." He paused, then continued: "That college girl... she comes from a desperately poor family. Her mother is severely ill and needs money for life-saving surgery. It's just a transaction. We both get what we need. There are no real feelings involved. Even if there were, she could never threaten your position as my wife." It was a rare explanation from him. But in that moment, I couldn't find the energy to care. Seeing no reaction from me, he raised his voice. "Chloe, are you listening to me?" "I'm listening." My tone was completely exhausted, but I could still feel Declan's probing, analyzing gaze landing heavily on me. When I opened my eyes to look at him, I reverted to the perfect, docile obedience I had cultivated lately. "Didn't you tell me before that when they say those things, there's no real malice behind it? That I shouldn't be so petty and hold grudges?" "That girl is quite pitiful, and she doesn't have much life experience. You should be gentle with her." I thought that by echoing exactly what Declan wanted to hear, he would nod in satisfaction and praise me for being a good, obedient wife. But to my utter shock, the last remaining trace of a smile completely vanished from his face. The luxury car violently slammed to a halt on the side of the road. Declan's voice dropped several degrees. "Chloe, I honestly have no idea what kind of tantrum you're throwing right now." I froze. I slowly took out my AirPods. "Declan, I haven't thrown a single tantrum all night." "Could you really not tell that I was wishing you two the best?" My perfectly logical answer didn't extinguish his inexplicable, sudden rage. Instead, those words seemed to pour gasoline directly onto the fire. He ground his teeth together as he spat out my name: "CHLOE STERLING!" I looked at Declan, quietly waiting to see what he would do next. Suddenly, a torrential downpour unleashed over the city. The massive raindrops violently smashed against the car windows. The atmosphere inside the car became even more suffocating and oppressive with the pounding of the rain. Just a split second before Declan's temper was about to explode, a frail, pathetic figure frantically trying to escape the rain on the sidewalk abruptly entered his line of sight. It only took one second. His explosive rage was forcefully swallowed by an overwhelming, visible wave of extreme anxiety. His face turned as dark as a storm cloud as he ordered me out of the car. I didn't act like I used to—I didn't get teary-eyed, and I didn't scream, asking him why. I simply did exactly as he commanded and stepped out into the storm. The freezing rain ruthlessly battered my body. It stung. A few moments later, Declan stepped out of the car too. His jaw was clenched tight. Holding an umbrella, he walked directly toward that fragile, shivering silhouette. There was no conversation. He simply, dominantly grabbed the girl by the wrist and pulled her toward the car. I had heard people whispering about her. This girl's name was Serena Vance. Suddenly, a conversation from a young couple walking behind me drifted into my ears. The girl frowned, her face full of hesitation. "A tattoo... is it going to hurt really badly?" The boy affectionately pulled her into his arms. "If you're scared of the pain, we won't get it." Hearing that, the tattoo I got on the side of my waist when I was eighteen suddenly felt like it was burning. That tattoo was the wildly romantic, impulsive proof of my and Declan's first love as teenagers. It's just a tragic shame that the romance only survived until our third year of marriage. When I discovered his very first affair, my entire world instantly collapsed. Three years into our marriage. The brand-new executive assistant he had hired less than a month ago climbed into his bed. The image of their intertwined, naked bodies on the sheets felt like countless, brutal slaps directly to my face. I cried until I choked, acting like an absolute lunatic, screaming the most vicious, venomous curses in the world at the two of them. Declan calmly absorbed my screaming. "In elite society, a man having women on the side is the most normal thing in the world. Besides, didn't your own father cheat on your mom when you were just a year old? Your mother played blind for decades. She never told you a word about it until the day she died. And didn't you all just keep living your lives?" "Chloe, be smart. Grow up. Don't scream and shout like a crazy person and ruin my mood." In that exact moment, my blood practically froze in my veins. The curses I was about to scream got stuck in my throat. I couldn't spit them out, and I couldn't swallow them down. The man who had once loved me to the absolute marrow of his bones was now callously using the deepest, most agonizing trauma of my entire life just to shut me up. Chapter 2 By the time I finally made it back to the estate, it was midnight. The moment I pushed the heavy front doors open, the girl lounging on the sofa instantly jolted awake, looking like a startled deer. She was exactly Declan's current type. Pure, beautiful, young. Yet, on her innocent face was a stubborn, unyielding defiance. I was soaked from the freezing rain, my head spinning with a fever. Yet, I forced a perfect, graceful smile onto my face. I considerately called the head housekeeper and told him to go upstairs and prepare a luxury guest suite for her. Seeing the tubes of medicinal ointment and the chaotic, messy aftermath scattered across the coffee table... I knew exactly how wild Declan had been with her. I let out a silent sigh, turned around, and walked upstairs. After we remarried, I proactively requested separate bedrooms. As I walked past his master suite, I heard him sharply, aggressively interrogating his executive assistant, Arthur. "Why the hell was Serena working a part-time job in the pouring rain today?! Didn't I tell you to wire a million dollars into her account?!" I have no idea how Arthur replied, and I had absolutely no desire to know. At 3:00 AM, my head was splitting open, making it impossible to sleep. I decided to go downstairs to grab some Tylenol. But as I reached the landing, I saw Declan. He had both hands pressed against the wall on either side of Serena, aggressively trapping her. Her face was flushed bright red. He was forcefully demanding she make three promises. "Promise me you will take care of your body." "Promise me you will spend my money every single day." "Promise me you will love me forever." But after making the promises, Serena looked incredibly aggrieved. "You're wearing the wedding ring you gave to your wife, but you're forcing me to say these things. What am I to you? Just a mistress?" Hearing this, Declan let out a mocking scoff. He pulled off the custom wedding band he had personally designed years ago and casually tossed it directly into the trash can. "Are you satisfied now?" The dizzying wave of nausea from my high fever made my stomach violently churn. I stumbled back, awkwardly shutting my bedroom door, and collapsed back onto the mattress. I pressed my hand hard against my chest. My heart felt like it was being carved open by a serrated knife. But in the end, the tears still pathetically betrayed me, slipping down my cheeks. Before we remarried, I naively thought that as long as I didn't look, as long as I didn't listen, everything would be fine. As long as I could get my mother's heirloom back, I didn't care if I had to play deaf and blind. But in this exact moment, I finally realized that some feelings are simply impossible to control. I knew my fever was spiking, but masochistically, I forced myself to endure it. Just endure it a little longer. I don't know if I actually fell asleep, or if the fever just caused me to hallucinate. I dreamt of eighteen-year-old Declan. The summer right after high school graduation. We had finally thrown off the crushing weight of our college prep classes, traded our stiff school uniforms for mature suits and elegant evening gowns, and went to the highest revolving restaurant in the city. There, he formally and solemnly confessed his love to me for the very first time. The night sky couldn't hide his flushed, nervous face. In front of those massive floor-to-ceiling windows, we were wild and passionate, over and over again. When we were finally exhausted, he pointed up at the moon and swore an oath. He swore he would love me for the rest of his life. It's a tragic shame. Oaths are never eternal. And neither is love. When I opened my eyes again, I was greeted by the familiar stark white walls and the sterile smell of antiseptic. "What exactly is the point of treating your own body like garbage? You have a massive fever, you refuse to take medication, and you just suffer through it alone in your room. Does that accomplish anything?" Declan's tone was entirely devoid of politeness, dripping with heavy, undisguised mockery. In the past, if I caught even a mild seasonal cold, Declan would be an absolute nervous wreck. Back then, he would frown in deep distress, pressing his warm palm against my forehead. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? Did you take your meds? Does your head hurt? Do you want some water?" But now. I stared at Declan for a very long time. In the depths of his eyes, there were so many complex emotions. Sarcasm. Mockery. Disdain. The only thing missing was even a single shred of heartache. My heart felt like it was being roasted over an open, nameless flame. Before we remarried, I had warned myself a million times in my head: Do not ever beg for Declan's love again. I forced a flawless smile. "I'm sorry. I wasted your time. Honestly, having the housekeeper drop me off at the hospital would have been perfectly fine." Declan raised an eyebrow, seemingly caught off guard by my completely passive attitude. I still vividly remember the day we remarried. He stood outside the courthouse, smiling with arrogant, absolute superiority. "See? Without me, you are absolutely nothing. You can't pay off your family's massive debts. You can't afford to eat at high-end restaurants. Hell, the place you were renting was worse than the servant's quarters at my estate." "I protected you too well all these years. You never had to suffer. You had no idea how brutal the real world is. I actually wanted to keep spoiling you, but your demands just kept piling up. So much so that I started to despise you." "If, after we remarry, you can fix that pathetic temper and personality of yours... that would be ideal." Well, I fixed it. I no longer clung to him, begging him to do childish things with me. I no longer demanded he check in with me every day. I stopped checking his phone. I stopped acting cute and vulnerable around him. And right now, I no longer needed his concern. Methodically slicing away a passionate, genuine love, piece by piece, is a long, excruciatingly agonizing process. Fortunately, in this exact moment, I felt like I was finally about to succeed. After finishing my IV drip and returning home, Serena came bursting out of Declan's home office. Her eyes were bloodshot as she blocked my path at the top of the stairs. "Did you post these photos on the university forum?!" "Ms. Sterling, I honestly thought you were exactly as indifferent as you act!" "I never imagined you were this vicious!" "If Declan hadn't caught it early, my life would have been completely destroyed by you!" Her shrill, piercing voice echoed violently through the hallway, incredibly grating on the ears. A stack of glossy photographs was violently hurled directly into my face. I glanced down. The explicit nature of the photos was so extreme that just a single glance would make anyone blush. I patiently explained: "Ms. Vance, I don't even know what university you attend. How could I possibly post these photos?" But Serena had completely lost her mind. She sobbed hysterically and lunged at me, using every ounce of her strength to beat me. "Who else hates me this much besides you?! You hate the fact that Declan doesn't love you! You hate the fact that he treats me well! So you used this disgusting method to destroy me!" Her fists, fast and heavy, rained down on me. I instinctively raised my arms to block the blows. But the next second, her foot missed a step. As she panicked and lost her balance, she made sure to grab onto me to break her fall. A terrifying, dizzying wave of weightlessness and sheer terror exploded through my system. My back slammed brutally against the floor. After a sickening, heavy THUD, my body finally stopped falling. Pain, like a torrential tidal wave, instantly rushed through every nerve in my body. In my hazy, semi-conscious state, I heard footsteps rushing toward us. Fast. Frantic. Declan's voice was laced with absolute terror and incoherent panic. But the piercing, high-pitched ringing in my ears made it impossible to understand what he was saying. The last time I heard Declan sound this panicked... Was the day I discovered my father cheating. I was crying, screaming for justice for my mother, and my father delivered a brutal, resounding slap across my face. Declan had instantly stepped in, shielding me behind his back. He repeatedly, frantically checked to make sure I was okay, and then used the massive corporate leverage of his family's empire to force my father to bow his head and apologize to me. The piercing ringing in my ears finally began to fade, and Declan's words finally became clear. "Chloe, you are absolutely disgusting." "I literally just finished scrubbing those photos off the internet to protect your reputation, and now you're trying to murder her." Declan's words crashed down like a thunderbolt, completely and violently shattering the illusion of the dream I had just been living in. My explanation was weak and pathetic. My voice trembled uncontrollably from the agonizing pain. "It really wasn't me..." But Declan refused to listen to a single word I said. Before he carried Serena out the door, I fought with everything I had to swallow my sobs. Suppressing my fading consciousness, I called out to him. "Declan, the auction tomorrow..." Declan's body stiffened for a fraction of a second. His voice was pure, teeth-grinding fury. "I'll go. But only on the condition that Serena is completely fine." The heavy front doors slammed shut with a deafening crash. Only then did the terrified servants finally dare to scream and call 911. The next day, completely ignoring the doctor's orders, I snuck out of the hospital. Early this morning, Arthur, Declan's assistant, had texted me. He said Declan had arranged for Serena to undergo a massive, full-body medical workup. All her vitals were perfectly normal. She just had a minor sprain in her ankle. While feeling a wave of relief, I desperately tried to comfort myself in my own mind. He's going to come. He'll definitely come. But standing outside the auction house, watching the crowds of people come and go, I never saw that familiar silhouette. I waited from sunset until the moonlight washed over the pavement. The person I was desperately hoping for never showed up. Winter in New York is brutal. The biting, freezing, damp wind whipped relentlessly across my body. My body and my soul were both agonizingly numb. A voice in the very depths of my heart kept tirelessly repeating: He's not coming. Tears welled up, spinning in my eyes. Even taking a breath sent sharp, stabbing pain through my chest. "Mrs. Pierce? Why are you still standing out here?" I turned my head stiffly. The moment I saw Arthur, a tiny, pathetic shred of hope inexplicably flared up in my heart. I grabbed his hand frantically, my words tumbling out in a mess. "Did... did Declan send you to bid at the auction?" Under my eyes, burning with desperate expectation, Arthur slowly nodded. He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through the list of items Declan had ordered him to win today. Out of thirty-two lots, Declan had Arthur successfully bid on thirty-one. My eyes, filled with desperate hope, scanned all the way down to the final line. I never saw the jade bracelet. The blood that had just begun to boil in my veins instantly froze solid. In a fraction of a second, I realized I was the biggest joke in the world. "Today is Ms. Vance's birthday. They're throwing a massive party at the estate. Mr. Pierce was in a rush to get these items back to surprise her, so he paid a massive premium to have the auction house expedite the entire process..." "As for the jade bracelet... Ms. Vance said items that belonged to dead people were bad luck. So she told him to pass on that lot..." I stood in the freezing, biting wind. My face was completely numb from the cold. I had lost count of how many times tears had blurred my vision today. Only one thought remained in my mind: Declan broke his promise. I didn't get my mother's heirloom back. This entire remarriage had lost its only meaning. I don't know how much time passed. I stiffly pulled out my phone and sent Declan a single text: "Declan. Let's get a divorce." The message said Delivered. The reply was almost instantaneous: "Suit yourself." Suddenly, someone roughly slammed their shoulder into mine. "Are you Declan Pierce's wife?" I honestly didn't know whether to nod or shake my head. But the person suddenly pulled out the exact jade bracelet I had been dreaming of getting back.
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