Chapter 1

The air conditioning in the courthouse was set too low, raising goosebumps on Chelsea Stewart's bare arms.

She sat quietly in the waiting area, clutching a file folder—inside were the marriage certificate that bound her to Hayes Quinn and the pre-prepared divorce papers that would end it all.

Ironically, today was supposed to be their seventh wedding anniversary.

"Funny, isn't it?" A faint, icy smile touched Chelsea's lips, laced with bitter self-mockery.

Seven years ago, they had nothing, crammed into a tiny 150-square-foot rental apartment, surviving on plain bread as they sketched out business plans. Back then, their eyes shone with dreams of the future and a deep reliance on each other.

Now, their company had grown into a respectable business with millions in annual revenue, earning a modest reputation in the industry. They had moved into an upscale neighborhood and drove nice cars. Yet here they were, their marriage on the verge of falling apart.

"Chelsea, what are you dragging your feet for?" Vivian's shrill voice cut through the air, dripping with smug satisfaction. "Hurry up with the paperwork. Hayes and I have a new place to check out later."

Vivian Lynn—Hayes' so-called "confidante," or more accurately, his soon-to-be new flame—was clinging to his arm with possessive ease, her chin slightly raised as she shot Chelsea a look of pure provocation. She had dressed to impress today; her flawless makeup and designer outfit highlighted her youthful glow.

Hayes frowned, his face a mask of impatience as he refused to even glance at Chelsea. He said coldly, "Chelsea, there's nothing left for us to discuss. You've seen the papers; just sign them. I built this company from scratch and paid the down payment for the house, while you've just been enjoying yourself at home doing nothing for years. Frankly, walking away empty-handed is more than you deserve."

"Enjoying yourself at home?" Chelsea let out a hollow laugh, as if he'd just told the world's worst joke. She finally looked up, locking eyes with Hayes—the man she once loved but now found utterly unfamiliar. "Does that lie even weigh on you, Hayes?"

Her voice turned razor-sharp, slicing through the room. "You built this company alone? Really? Was it you who wrote the core code, pulling all-nighters for months? You who landed our first investor? You who fixed every technical crisis and financial leak? Tell me, Hayes—what gives you the right to stand there and act like you did this all by yourself?"

She didn't let him breathe. "And the house? Sure, you put in 65 thousand dollars. But when my parents saw us struggling, they secretly gave me another 100 thousand dollars to help. Or did you forget that too? After we got married, we paid off the mortgage together. The records don't lie."

Hayes' face darkened. He clearly hadn't expected the usually compliant Chelsea to suddenly grow fangs.

Vivian, sensing the shift, immediately put on a sugary sweet voice and said, "Oh, Chelsea, let bygones be bygones. Hayes is in love with me now, so you really should move on. A woman needs to find a man to take care of her, after all. Honestly, Hayes is doing you a favor. The sooner you get divorced, the sooner you can start over."

"Shut up." Chelsea shot Vivian an icy glare. "This is between him and me. Who are you to butt in?"

Vivian paled, stunned into silence. With practiced helplessness, she threw Hayes a wounded, doe-eyed look.

Hayes' fury rose as he felt Chelsea was deliberately humiliating him. "That's enough, Chelsea! We're getting divorced today anyway. Sign the damn papers, or I'll drag you to court. And trust me, you won't like how that ends."

He suddenly lunged forward, grabbing for the file folder in Chelsea's hands.

Chelsea dodged his grab and slowly rose to her feet. Though she was not tall, her presence now dominated the room.

"Divorce? Of course, we're getting divorced." Her voice was calm as ice. "But we'll do it my way."

Chelsea pulled out another document from the folder and slid it across the table to Hayes. "My version of the divorce papers. Take a look."

Hayes snatched it up suspiciously. The moment his eyes landed on it, his face twisted in shock.

The terms were crystal clear, saying that Chelsea would keep their home, and he was given three months to vacate. The tech company they'd built together would see her take 60% ownership, while the remaining 40% may be repurchased by her at 20% below market price, with Hayes required to cooperate in the transfer process. As for their joint savings, they would be split 70-30 in her favor.

"Chelsea, are you insane?" Hayes roared, drawing stares from everyone around. "You can't just do this! The company is my life's work! The house is mine too—"

"Your work?" Chelsea cut him off, her gaze icy. "Cut the act, Hayes. When we founded the company, we signed a binding agreement—60% of the shares are mine, 40% yours. It's all there in black and white. All these years, who's actually controlled the core tech? And who's handled the finances? You think just because you're out there playing the big shot, the company runs itself? Who do you think fixes everything when you screw up?"

She paused, fixing Hayes with a cold, piercing stare, and then continued, "You think I don't know about your dirty little affair with Vivian? Using company funds for her designer bags and cars, getting her a cushy, high-paying job? Did you really think I had no clue about all of this?"

Chelsea's voice was weary, but even more resolute. "I've known for a long time. I just didn't want to make things ugly—not after seven years together, not when the company was just getting off the ground. I gave you chances, Hayes, more than once. But you're the one who chose to throw them all away."

She added, "As for the house, my parents paid the down payment. After we got married, we paid off the mortgage together, so I'm entitled to my share of the appreciation. Most of our savings came from my scrimping over the years, plus my pre-marital assets. And I haven't even started calculating the money you spent on her."

Hayes looked like he'd been punched in the gut. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that the always quiet, obedient Chelsea—the woman who used to follow his every word—had actually planned everything out with such precision.

All this time, he'd assumed Chelsea would be lost without him, and that the company needed him. That delusion was what emboldened him to act so recklessly.

His voice came out hoarse and strained. "When... When did you..."

"When did I start preparing?" Chelsea said coolly. "Probably from the first lie you told for her. From the first company check you signed to buy her gifts. I'm not one to leave my fate in someone else's hands—especially not in the hands of someone who could betray me at any time."

She checked her watch. "Time's up, Hayes. You're signing this today, whether you like it or not. If you want to take this to court, I'm more than ready. But remember, you'll be the one humiliated. I've got copies of all the evidence of your embezzlement and abuse of power."

Hayes' face turned ashen, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. As he met Chelsea's calm, unreadable eyes, a chill ran down his spine.

He realized he had never truly known the woman he married.

"Hayes..." Vivian panicked. She never expected Chelsea to have so many aces up her sleeve, or that the lion's share of the company Hayes always bragged about was actually in Chelsea's hands. Now, she was not sure what he'd been after all this time.

"Sign it." Chelsea thrust the pen toward Hayes, her voice clipped. "Let's not waste any more time."

Hayes' hand trembled as he glared at Chelsea, his eyes a storm of emotions—anger, unwillingness, and a trace of regret he refused to admit.

In the end, under tremendous pressure and fear, with his hand shaking and his pride in tatters, he signed his name on the agreement Chelsea had set before him—each stroke a surrender.

With the signed agreement in hand, Chelsea meticulously reviewed each clause, confirmed everything was in order, and then slipped it back into the folder.

Without so much as another glance at Hayes or Vivian, she strode away to file for divorce, her posture straight and her steps unwavering.

Sunlight streamed through the window, cloaking her in an unyielding radiance, as if she were clad in armor forged from light.

Hayes stood frozen, watching her walk away. The room's air conditioning hummed steadily, but the cold spreading through his veins came from somewhere deeper.

Maybe he'd really made a mistake.

Beside him, Vivian's face contorted, her earlier triumph replaced by panic and scheming calculation in her eyes.

This divorce was nothing like what she had imagined.