Chapter 1
At the entrance of the city hall, the sycamore leaves rustled in the autumn breeze.
Charlotte Sterling stood at the foot of the steps, gazing up at the gray-and-white building. Suddenly, her three-year marriage felt like the weather. Not long ago, it was stiflingly hot, and now, it was freezing to the bone.
Ethan Sinclair snapped, "Charlotte, why are you dragging your feet?"
His impatient voice echoed from behind her.
Charlotte turned to see Ethan Sinclair stepping out of a sleek black Maybach, his perfectly tailored dark gray suit highlighting his broad shoulders and long legs. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine.
But when he glanced at her, his eyes were full of nothing but irritation.
"Mr. Sinclair, right this way." The assistant hurried over to lead the way, not even sparing Charlotte a single glance.
Three years...' Charlotte thought to herself, silently counting the days she'd wasted.
For three years of marriage, she'd been nothing but invisible in this house.
Ethan's assistant never showed her any respect, the housekeeper looked down on her, and even Ethan's so-called "sister," Isabelle Sinclair, would point right at her and call her a "gold-digging bitch."
And for a love that was nothing but a joke, she'd endured it all.
"What are you daydreaming about?" Ethan frowned, impatience clear in his voice, "Move it. I've got a meeting this afternoon."
Charlotte gave a bitter smile, then stepped forward to catch up with him.
The divorce process was quick.
The staff instantly recognized Ethan, the young CEO of Sinclair Holdings, featured regularly in business magazines, and the most eligible bachelor every socialite in Harbor City couldn't take their eyes off.
"Mr. Sinclair, here's the divorce agreement. Please review the property settlement," the staff member said.
Ethan didn't even bother to look. He flipped straight to the last page and signed.
"Give her 3 million, plus the apartment," Ethan said, his tone icy and indifferent, like he was brushing off a charity case. "Is that enough for her?"
Charlotte looked at the agreement and suddenly laughed.
3 million.
Ethan probably thought he was being incredibly generous.
After all, in his eyes, Charlotte was a woman who'd do anything to climb the social ladder.
Three years ago, when her father fell ill and she was out of options, she went to the Sinclair family for help. Old Mr. Sinclair, for old times' sake, forced Ethan to marry her.
This 3 million was the price to buy out three years of her youth.
"What, not enough for you?" Ethan finally looked up at her, his gaze icy. "Charlotte, don't be greedy.
"For three years, you ate our food, slept under our roof, and I never asked you for a single cent. Honestly, I've already done more than anyone else would."
"Ethan," Charlotte suddenly spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you know what today is?"
Ethan was momentarily stunned.
"It's our third wedding anniversary," Charlotte said, smiling even as her eyes brimmed with tears. "Do you remember? A year ago today, you said you had work, and I waited at home until three in the morning.
"Two years ago today, you said you had to meet with a client, so I ended up eating cake alone. And this year."
She paused, picked up the pen, and signed her name on the agreement.
"This year, we're here to get divorced," she said.
The signing went by in a flash.
The soft scratch of the pen across the paper felt like slicing through three years of memories.
Charlotte signed the last line and placed the pen down softly.