Chapter 3

Three days later, Emily sent me a photo.

It was a thick document.

She said, "Charlotte, I had someone get me a copy. Edward's secretary compiled it. It's forty-seven pages long."

I opened the photo to take a closer look.

The first page showed that three years ago, Payne Holdings almost got hit by a hostile takeover. I pulled some strings with the Sinclair family's overseas funds to help Payne Holdings lock down those crucial shares.

Back then, Edward thought it was the market acting up.

The second page showed that two years ago, when Payne Holdings was bidding for that landmark project in Kingston City, one of the experts on the panel had a daughter studying in Ravencroft. I personally took care of her school and housing.

Edward thought it was all thanks to their impressive proposal.

The third page showed that last year, Payne Holdings's supply chain broke down. Key raw materials were being price-gouged by a group of suppliers. I flew to three cities and negotiated with each one, using contacts from my own family network.

Meanwhile, Edward was off in Aurelia Island, celebrating Vivian's birthday without a care in the world.

The fourth page showed that when Edward's mother, Madeline Payne, had her heart attack, I pulled some strings overnight, got the best heart surgeon in the country, and even arranged a private jet to fly him in from overseas.

After the surgery, Madeline asked who made it all happen.

Edward had said, "It was someone from the company."

I was standing right there in the hallway, just smiled to myself, and said nothing.

There were all forty-seven pages.

I flipped through every page, not a ripple inside me.

Like I said, Edward never cared about what I did. He just wanted me out of his way.

Now that all this was dug up, it was not because he suddenly cared about me.

It was because these things were starting to get in his way.

He must be replaying all those memories in his mind right now.

I, wearing an apron, was busy cooking in the kitchen, turning around with a smile when he walked in.

I stood at the study door with a bowl of warm Honey Lemon Tea, waiting for his usual, "Just leave it there. Don't bother me."

Every month, I'd tuck a bunch of chamomile into his closet until he snapped one day because of his allergies.

He forgot our wedding anniversary for three years.

It wasn't just once. It was every single year.

The three gift boxes I gave him, he never opened any of them.

Vivian probably cleared them out with the rest of the trash.

My phone suddenly rang. It was Emily. "Charlotte, check Twitter, and you're trending."

I opened Twitter on my phone.

The number one trending topic: [Sinclair Group heiress Charlotte Sinclair spotted at Ravencroft Fashion Week.]

I tapped on the headline.

In the photo, I was sitting front row at the show, wearing a black couture gown, with some of the international top fashion moguls right beside me.

I looked slimmer, my jawline sharper, and my eyes sparkled.

It wasn't that careful, eager-to-please look I used to have.

Now, the look in my eyes was free, relaxed, and completely unconcerned with anyone else.

The comments section was blowing up.

[Damn, is this really the Sinclair heiress who got emotionally neglected by the Payne heir for three years? Her aura is unreal.]

[Wow, she ditched Edward and instantly took off. This is the real girl boss storyline.]

[Anyone else notice the guy next to her? That's the heir to that old-money Ravencroft family.]

[Seriously, what was Edward thinking? He married a hidden gem and treated her like air. Talk about clueless.]

I zoomed in on the photo.

There was a tall, strong man with blond hair and blue eyes, his features striking and refined, smiling as he lowered his head to say something to me.

I tilted my head, a smile playing at my lips.

That smile was gentle, a little adoring, with my eyes curving softly with warmth.

I used to smile at Edward like that, too.

Now, I was giving that smile to someone else.

Not long after, Emily sent me a screenshot.

It was from Edward's WhatsApp.

He sent me a text. [Charlotte, we need to talk.]

I'd already deleted him.