Chapter 1

It was the day of my third wedding anniversary.

Simon's mistress had a meltdown and attempted suicide. He ditched me and spent the whole day and night at the hospital, trying to comfort her.

When he finally came back, he brought her with him.

He handed me three so-called "gifts."

First one, a villa out in the western suburbs, now under my name.

Second one, 70 million dollars wired straight into my account.

The third one, the divorce papers.

He laid out his so-called terms like he was doing me a favor, totally unfazed.

Simon said, "That girl's throwing a fit, so we'll just pretend to get divorced to keep her quiet. As long as you cooperate, I'll make sure your mom gets the best doctors money can buy."

He added, "You'll always be my wife. No one else could ever take your place."

I nodded, keeping my cool.

But what Simon didn't know was, my mom was already gone as of last night.

This time, I could finally leave for good.

*****

Downstairs, Valerie was crying her heart out, and Simon was getting visibly impatient.

He said, "Just sign the papers already. Valerie's not in good shape as it is. I don't want her making herself sick from all this crying."

My heart clenched, and with a hint of self-mockery, I blurted out, "After three years of marriage, did you ever love me?"

Our youthful bond was long gone. I only wanted an answer about this marriage.

Simon said coldly, "You're my only wife, but Valerie is very important to me."

Just another one of his non-answers.

Being his wife meant nothing. In his eyes, I was nobody.

Lucky for me, I didn't love him anymore. I refused to keep playing the role of his sad, miserable wife.

I calmly opened the divorce papers and signed them without a second thought.

"Go pack your things. I'll have the driver take you to the villa right now, so Valerie doesn't get all worked up seeing you around. Once she's back on her feet, I'll have you come back," Simon said.

With that, he walked out without even looking back.

For the eighth time in two years, Simon kicked me out of our home just to appease Valerie's tantrums, letting her move right in.

Sometimes it was a month, sometimes three. However long it took until she got what she wanted.

The first time Simon tried to calm Valerie down, she ran off, and he chased after her. He just picked her up, brought her home, and told me to move out.

I flat-out refused.

Valerie burst into tears, accusing me of humiliating her and insisting she had to leave.

Simon completely snapped and practically locked me up in that villa out in the western suburbs.

That place was nothing but an empty shell, and Simon locked me away there, leaving me to go hungry for five straight days.

After that, their whole cat-and-mouse drama just kept repeating. She'd throw a fit, he'd rush to comfort her. It became their favorite entertainment.

Only this time, Valerie went as far as trying to take her own life, and Simon was the one who brought up divorce.

All the so-called compensation he'd given me over the years added up to a cool two hundred million dollars.

But this time, I wasn't going to play along with their game anymore. I was done. I was leaving.

I finally understood that money was more real than feelings. At the very least, money made me feel secure.

I grabbed my already-packed suitcase and headed downstairs.

Valerie was perched on Simon's lap, her entire upper body pressed against his chest. Her red, swollen eyes had already been coaxed into smiling again.

As soon as she spotted me, she deliberately wriggled a bit, and Simon pulled her even closer, letting out a low, almost involuntary grunt.

"Be good, don't make a fuss," Simon said, his voice low and rough. It was clear he was already turned on.

He was just a man who could not control his lower body. Disgusting.

Valerie shot me a smug, provocative look, her voice syrupy sweet. "Stella, Simon's just worried sick about me and scared I'll run off again. I'm sorry that you have to leave."

I didn't even bother responding. I kept my cool and headed straight for the door.

"Simon, you guys are divorced now, but she's still wearing Lester family jewelry? Isn't that a bit much?" Valerie said, her voice just loud enough for me to catch every word.

Simon said indifferently, "Stella, take off your bracelet and hand it to Valerie. Let's not have her stressing over nothing."

This bracelet was the token of our love, the one he personally fastened on my wrist.

He said, "Stella, wear this. You'll always be the one I love most, and I'll always be there for you."

But I was young and clueless about love, easily swept away by his sweet talk, naively believing forever was real.

Simon looked me right in the eyes, totally unfazed by my puffy, tear-stained face.

"Just tell me how much you want for it. I'll buy it back. It's not like you're getting the short end of the stick," Simon said.

From meeting Simon when I was ten to now, there have been fifteen years of feelings. How could he even put a price on all that?

I didn't even care enough to do the math.

The last time I ran into Valerie was at a party in the ballroom.

She purposely crashed into me, ripped her white dress, and stained it with red wine.

Simon lost it, took her side without caring who was watching, and made me apologize right there.

Valerie was crying, clinging to Simon's chest. "Simon, this is so embarrassing. Why not just make her pay by having her take off her dress right here?"

I refused outright.

Simon told his men to drag me into a room and tear my clothes off.

All I could do was wrap myself in a tablecloth, trembling in the corner like some pathetic stray.

Simon shot back, "If you'd just learned to behave, you wouldn't have to go through all this. You brought the shame on yourself."

To teach me a lesson, he cut off my mom's medicine, and only gave in after I got down on my knees and begged him.