Chapter 1

My husband, Eric Johnson, brought his mistress, Emily Smith, home and begged me to let them get together.

"I am the whole world to her. She isn't as aggressive as you are. She wants nothing but me," Eric said.

Looking at the delicate flower, I, Judy Koerner, nodded. "Fine. It makes things a lot easier for us since she doesn't want money."

I cashed in all the pricey antiques and paintings as fast as I could.

As I left the house with my divorce papers in hand, I sent Eric a message, [Now, this house is yours. There is one million dollars left in loans. Don't forget to pay the mortgage next month. After all, true love is priceless.] *****

The atmosphere in the living room was heavy.

Eric had a serious look, and Emily, sitting by his side, was crying her heart out.

"Judy, please." Eric raised his head and looked at me as if I were a stranger to him. "Emily wants nothing but the title of Mrs. Johnson. She is different from you. You have a career, and you are aggressive and tough."

My gaze shifted from Eric to Emily.

In a white dress, she looked like a delicate flower. With a timid look, she seemed like a frightened fawn.

"Mrs. Johnson, I didn't mean to ruin your family, but Eric and I love each other. I ask for nothing. I mean it," she said softly.

I looked at the lovers and suddenly found this scene hilarious.

In the past five years, I had done the housework, taken care of Eric's sick mother, Belinda Johnson, and doubled our assets via my professional management of our collection.

To Eric, I now became aggressive.

With a few drops of tears, Emily became his true love.

"Okay," I said.

My reactions shocked both Eric and Emily.

Eric didn't believe what he had heard, so he asked, "Judy, what did you say?"

"I said okay," I repeated. My tone was so calm as if I were talking about the weather. "It makes things a lot easier for us since she asks for nothing."

I stood up. I didn't spare the lovers another glance. "I am tired. I will take a rest in my room. Make yourselves comfortable."

I turned around, walked to my room, and closed the door.

In the living room, Eric might be busy pacifying Emily who was shedding the tears of joy.

I didn't shed tears. People who were dead inside had no tears.

I produced my phone and made two calls.

My first call was to my lawyer, Anne Webb. "Anne, please prepare my divorce settlement as quickly as possible."

My second one was to my old friend, Wilson Lee, who ran an antique shop. "Wilson, there are several things I would like to sell as soon as possible. Please send an appraiser over tomorrow."

After the two calls, I lay in bed.

The chandelier in the room had been chosen by Eric and me during the preparation of our marriage. Now, I found it glaring.

The war had started the moment Eric brought Emily home.

He wanted true love. Fine, I would let him know that he couldn't afford the price of true love.

I got up early the next morning.

Eric had spent the night in the living room, perhaps because he was afraid that I would change my mind.

He was taken aback when he found me fully dressed. "Judy, where are you going?"

"To work," I blandly replied.

Right then, Emily walked out of the guest room. She wore Eric's white shirt, and her hair was wet. She acted as if she were the lady of the house. "Mrs. Johnson, breakfast is ready."

I ignored her and went straight to the doorway.

Eric hurried after me and fawningly said, "Judy, shouldn't we talk about our properties? Look, both the house and the car were bought after we got married..."

"As I said, I will let you get what you want." I interrupted him. "Be patient."

Then, I opened the door and left the house.

In the company, I didn't get down to work. I had a talk with Anne first.

Anne looked at me with worry in her eyes. "Have you made up your mind?"

"Yep," I replied.

"Eric is a fool. He still believes that you will think for him." Anne sneered. "He has no idea how heartless you can be."

I gave a smile. "I will get back what's mine."

Anne pushed a document to me. "As you requested, I have combed through your properties. Most of the antiques and paintings are the appreciation of your premarital properties. Your bank statement is the strongest evidence."

"I know."

"Take this." Anne handed me a small digital recorder. "Just in case."

I took the recorder. I knew what to do.

That afternoon, the appraiser sent by Wilson visited me.