Chapter 2

The two cleaning and renovation companies had memorized every inch of my villa. Even the housekeeper was on their payroll, acting as their eyes and ears.

As soon as anything happened to the villa, I'd get a message from them in seconds.

Once, while I was out of town, Melvin stormed into my house and wrecked everything, leaving the place looking like a war zone.

The very next day, the cleaning crew and renovation guys were already there, ready to fix the mess.

By the time I got home, everything was back to normal, like nothing had ever happened.

But this time, I looked down at the medical report in my hand.

That stubborn, almost obsessive strength that had kept me going all these years just crumbled away.

I flexed my stiff fingers and typed out in the chat box: [No need.]

Maybe I'd never need them again.

I called the number I'd memorized long ago.

This time, I just wanted to tell Melvin myself that I finally agreed to the divorce.

However, all I got was a busy signal.

I stood there holding my phone, dazed. Then it suddenly hit me that Melvin had blocked me a long time ago.

We barely saw each other these days.

Since I'd already decided to get divorced, I figured I might as well just end things for good quickly.

I walked into the study and pulled out the divorce agreement Melvin had prepared ages ago from the very back of the drawer.

I skimmed over the terms for dividing up our assets.

Melvin was going to give me 10 million bucks.

For a business tycoon with a net worth of hundreds of millions, that was just pocket change.

But for someone like me, with not much time left, it was more than enough to spend however I wanted.

I didn't dwell further on the money. The next morning, I grabbed the divorce agreement and took a cab straight to Barnes Group.

As I stepped out of the cab, the glare from the glass exterior of the building almost blinded me.

I still remembered six years ago, when Melvin's studio was barely the size of a shoebox, so cramped one could hardly move.

Back then, we'd squeeze into a cluttered corner, slurping pasta and dreaming about our future.

Now, this towering skyscraper was all his.

It felt like I couldn't hold onto him anymore.

I felt a lump in my throat as I hurried into the building.

Without an employee badge, I was stopped at the entrance by the receptionist.

Before I could say anything, her coworker grabbed her sleeve and whispered to her, "That's Mrs. Barnes."

The receptionist gave me a once-over, her eyes full of undisguised contempt.

"Mrs. Barnes, huh?" she drawled. "That's even more of a no-go. Mr. Barnes made it clear you're not allowed in."

She leaned in close, enunciating each word right in my ear. "He said you're not good enough."

Those words felt like a slap right across my face.

The whole lobby went dead silent. All eyes were on me.

Some of those faces were ones I knew all too well. The long-time employees who'd built this place with Melvin all recognized me.

Just a couple years back, I'd drop by here every day, carrying a homemade pot of soup I'd carefully prepared.

Melvin had stomach issues, so I was always coming up with new ways to take care of him.

Back then, whenever they saw me, they'd greet me with a smile, remarking stuff like, "Mrs. Barnes, here to bring Mr. Barnes some comfort again?" and "What a lucky guy, having such a thoughtful wife."

It was hard to believe it had only been a couple of years.

But honestly, I didn't have the energy to argue at the front desk.

Just as I was about to speak, a syrupy voice chimed in from behind me. "Well, if it isn't Carol. Long time no see. What happened to you? You look so skinny."

I turned around and saw Lucia Patterson, Melvin's childhood sweetheart.

She was dressed head-to-toe in a limited-edition Chanel suit, clutching the latest Chanel bag, looking every bit like she'd just walked out of a fashion magazine.

Standing next to her, I looked like a ghost, skinny, pale, and so worn out I could barely recognize myself.

Lately, I'd been so caught up in fighting with Melvin that I hadn't spared a single thought for my own appearance.

The receptionist's eyes lit up and she was suddenly all smiles. "Miss Patterson, you're here."

Lucia shot the receptionist a casual look, then acted all chummy and linked her arm through mine.

She remarked, "Seriously, don't you know anything? Carol and I are old friends."

She waved her employee badge hanging from her neck and said to me, "Come on, Carol. I'll bring you in."

How ironic. Six years ago, when Melvin hit rock bottom, the Patterson family could've saved him with barely any effort. Instead, they chose to turn a blind eye, and Lucia just left for abroad without a second thought.

Now, Melvin was the one on top, way ahead of the Patterson family.

Lucia, who used to be untouchable, came back playing the damsel in distress, and Melvin rushed to bring her back beside him.

I gave Lucia a quick, indifferent glance, ignoring her phony friendliness. Without another word, I grabbed the front desk phone and dialed Melvin's number.

Melvin picked up, his voice sharp and impatient. "What is it?"