Chapter 1

"Sign it, Isolde."

Alexander pushed a divorce agreement toward me, his tone as casual as if he were discussing what to have for dinner.

"You keep the house and the car. I’ll give you an additional two million in compensation. After twelve years of marriage, I don't want things to get ugly."

I stared at the agreement, my fingers slowly tightening.

Just a second ago, I was lying in a hospital bed, dying of late-stage lung cancer, the oxygen mask pressing down so hard I could barely breathe. The doctor had told me I had one week left, at most.

The next second, I was sitting here, twelve years in the past—the third year after we co-founded our company.

The date on the divorce agreement was crystal clear: May 16, 2018.

I had been reborn.

I didn't speak right away.

The office was quiet, save for the faint hum of the central air conditioning.

Alexander sat across from me, wearing the dark gray suit I had handpicked for him last year, his tie meticulously done.

Twelve years of marriage made it easy to overlook details, but living it over again, I suddenly noticed the cologne he was wearing today wasn't the one I had gifted him.

It was woody. Cold.

Brienne's favorite scent.

At the thought of her name, my chest felt like it had been sliced open.

In my previous life, I signed this agreement today. I had cried so hard I could barely speak, asking him over and over, "Did I do something wrong? Is the pressure from the company too much? Can we try again?"

He had only rubbed his temples, looking exhausted. "Isolde, I'm tired."

Only later did I find out that his "tiredness" was because he had already fallen in love with another woman.

Brienne Grant. The company’s newly hired brand consultant.

Young, beautiful, confident, always speaking with an air of absolute control.

And me? In the eyes of all the employees, I was just the CEO’s wife.

No one remembered who designed the company's first logo.

No one remembered who revised the first brand manual twenty-seven times.

No one remembered that during our first year, to land our first client, I flew to six cities with Alexander, sleeping only four to five hours a day, wearing high heels until my feet bled.

They only remembered that Alexander Reed was a business genius.

As for Isolde Carter? A housewife who had stepped away from the company early on.

At the thought, I couldn't help but chuckle.

Alexander frowned. "What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing." I looked up. "Keep going."

He seemed caught off guard by my reaction, pausing before speaking again. "I know this is hard for you to accept right now. As for the compensation, as long as it's not unreasonable, I'm open to negotiation."

He spoke with restraint. It was almost civil.

In my previous life, I was fooled by this civility. I thought he at least felt some guilt for this marriage.

Until years later, when the company went public. The media interviewed him about his startup journey.

The host asked, "Who do you think made Reed Tech what it is today?"

He answered without a moment's hesitation, "The team."

The camera panned to the audience. Brienne was sitting in the front row, smiling and applauding.

While I sat in front of the TV at home,with soup still simmering on the stove in the kitchen.

In that moment, I realized that my twelve years of devotion didn't even merit a single sentence in his story.

Later, I got sick. Lung cancer. The treatments drained all my savings.

Alexander visited me twice, staying for less than twenty minutes each time. He said the company was busy. I believed him.

Until on my deathbed, a former employee who had resigned came to see me. She held my hand and whispered, "Isolde, did you know? The branding system the company uses now is still the one you created back then."

"Brienne tried to change it many times but failed, and they ended up quietly switching back to yours."

"The board always knew you were the one who designed it. They just never mentioned it."

As I closed my eyes for the last time, only one thought filled my mind: If I could do it all over again, I would never let anyone else define my life.

"Isolde?" Alexander's voice pulled me back to reality. "Take a look at the agreement first."

I looked down and opened the first page.

Asset division. Savings. Properties. Cars. Everything was exactly the same as in my previous life.

I even knew what was hidden on the very last page.

It was an addendum clause that almost no one would read carefully. I slowly flipped to it.

Sure enough.

During the marriage, all brand designs, visual concepts, and creative outputs completed with the participation of Isolde Carter shall permanently belong to Reed Technologies as intellectual property, and no further claims shall be made.

I stared at that line, my heart pounding violently against my chest.

In my previous life, I hadn't noticed it at all. Back then, I was too busy crying.

Only later did I understand what that clause meant.

It meant every sketch I drew during our startup days, every slogan, and every design concept belonged entirely to the company. To Alexander. To Brienne, who would soon stand by his side.

Everything I had spent twelve years creating was stripped away by a single line of small print. And I had been foolish enough to thank him for the two million dollars in compensation.

How pathetic.

I slowly closed the agreement.

Alexander kept his eyes on me. "If you feel the amount isn't enough, we can negotiate. I can throw in another property."

His tone lacked any hostility, as if he were just handling an annoying but necessary task.

I suddenly recalled our first year of starting up. There were only two of us back then. We couldn't afford an office, so we worked out of a garage.

In the winter, my hands would freeze. I would sketch logos while editing his business proposal. At 3:00 AM, he fell asleep at his desk from exhaustion. I draped my coat over his shoulders.

When he woke up, he held my hand, his eyes shining brightly. "Isolde, one day, I'll make sure everyone knows that I wouldn't exist without you."

I believed him.

Later, he did make sure everyone knew who he was. Except he left me out of the story.

I placed the agreement back on the desk.

"Alexander."

"Yes?"

"You've made up your mind, haven't you?"

He gave a slight nod. "I have."

"What about her?"

He froze for a moment. "Who?"

"The woman who made you willing to end a twelve-year marriage."

For the first time, a crack appeared in his composure. He didn't deny it. He only muttered, "This has nothing to do with anyone else."

I almost laughed out loud.

He had said the exact same thing in my previous life. Three months later, he was attending business galas with Brienne. A year later, they went public with their relationship. Three years later, they stood together ringing the Nasdaq bell.

Nothing to do with anyone else? Of course it did. It was just that in my past life, I realized it far too late.

I stood up and pushed the agreement back in front of him.

Alexander looked up at me, a hint of surprise finally showing in his eyes. "What is this supposed to mean?"

Meeting his gaze, I said word for word, "I'm not signing."

His brow furrowed slowly. "Isolde, dragging this out is pointless."

"Whether it's pointless or not is for me to decide."

I grabbed my bag, preparing to leave. Just as my hand touched the doorknob, I froze.

In my past life, I lost more than just my marriage. I lost my designs. Those were the things I truly couldn't afford to lose.

I turned back, looking at the divorce agreement on the desk. That inconspicuous line of small print on the final page caught my eye once more.

I smiled faintly.

"Alexander."

"What?"

"There's one thing you've always gotten wrong."

"What's that?"

I looked at him, my voice calm. "Some things in this company were never yours to begin with."

With that, I pushed open the office door and walked out without looking back.

And I knew: The real divorce had only just begun.