Chapter 1

As Shane Griffin pushed the divorce agreement toward me, I was still trying to clean the red wine stain from my dress, a gift from his new flame.

"Sign it," he said carelessly. "Wouldn't want to upset my rising star."

How simple he made it sound. Five years of marriage reduced to a scrap of paper he could discard at will.

I signed without a word and watched as he turned to brag to his friends.

"Stella is head over heels for me. She'll be begging to come back by tomorrow," he added.

That signature was my parting gift. Not that a man like him would recognize mercy when he saw it.

*****

I stood in Griffin Group's records room, fingers brushing folders as I searched for the marketing team's quarterly report. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, warming the floor at my feet.

Shane Griffin's assistant Leo poked his head in. Looking anxious, he pressed, "Ms. Xander, Mr. Griffin just called. He asked you to bring the document to Elyseel Restaurant now. "

I gave a brief nod, quickly located the target document, and carefully placed it into my briefcase.

As I stepped out of the building, I glanced at my watch.

By 3:40 PM, Shane was supposed to be in a meeting. What was he doing at a restaurant?

As the taxi weaved through the bustling city, I stared out at the blur of passing lights, my mind drifting far away.

After five years of marriage to Shane, I'd gotten used to his sudden, unpredictable demands.

He was the CEO of Griffin Group, and his schedule had never bent to my will.

Elyseel Restaurant was the city's most exclusive foreign restaurant. It was not the kind of place I usually frequented.

As I pushed open the heavy glass doors, the host immediately recognized me.

After all, I was Mrs. Griffin, though this identity was almost invisible in public.

The host nodded politely and then said, "Mr. Griffin is waiting for you in the VIP private room. Please follow me."

The carved wooden door at the end of the corridor stood slightly open. As I approached, laughter and conversation drifted out from inside.

A coquettish female voice rose above the rest, teasing lightly, "Mr. Griffin, you're so amusing."

My hand hovered on the doorknob for a second before knocking lightly.

"Come in," Shane said, his voice as cold and indifferent as ever.

As I pushed open the door, the first thing I saw was Shane sprawled on the leather sofa, with Lily, the hottest rising starlet, practically clinging to him.

Lily was almost half draped over Shane, her hand with bright red nail polish resting possessively on his shoulder.

There were also two other couples in the private room, all regulars from Shane's social circle.

As I stepped in, the laughter and chatter died away instantly, and all eyes in the room locked onto me.

"Did you bring the documents?" Shane asked. He didn't even bother to look at me, simply extending his hand.

I walked over in silence, retrieved the file from my briefcase, and handed it to him. Lily looked me up and down, a flicker of disdain crossing her eyes.

"Who's this?" she asked, drawing out the words.

"My wife," Shane said casually, not even looking up as he began leafing through the documents.

"So, you're Mrs. Griffin?" Lily drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I just always pictured his wife as... you know, stunning."

A few snickers rippled through the private room.

I found myself gripping the strap of my briefcase a little tighter, but not a flicker of emotion showed on my face.

Shane looked up at me, his gaze as icy as ever. "Get out," he said casually.

As I turned to leave, Lily called out, "Wait, Mrs. Griffin. Won't you stay for a drink?" She lifted the wine bottle and approached, her voice sweet but insincere. "Let me propose a toast to you."

Before I could react, her wrist deliberately tilted, dumping the entire glass of red wine onto my white blouse.

The crimson liquid bled rapidly across the fabric, leaving a glaring stain.

"Oops, how clumsy of me," Lily said, her tone dripping with false apology while her eyes gleamed with triumph. "My hand slipped."

A wave of muffled snickers spread through the private room.

I took a deep breath and looked up at Shane, hoping he'd say something fair.

However, he just frowned and said coldly, "Can't you be more careful? How do you expect to go back looking like that?"

His words pierced my heart like a knife.

After five years, I should have grown numb to his coldness, but somehow, it still stung every time.

"I'm fine," I murmured, turning to leave.

"Wait," Shane said suddenly, stopping me. He pulled a document from the inside pocket of his suit and tossed it onto the table. "Sign this before you leave."

My heart skipped a beat. I looked down and saw two bold words on the cover: [Divorce Agreement].

My voice trembled as I asked, "Shane, what is this supposed to mean?"

"Sign it. Wouldn't want to upset my rising star," he said casually, glancing at Lily. "She says you're in her way."

Lily immediately pouted coquettishly, "Mr. Griffin, I never said that." But the smile on her face betrayed her.

The private room fell silent, all eyes fixed on me, awaiting my reaction.

I picked up the agreement and flipped to the last page where Shane's signature stared back at me in bold, unyielding strokes.

Just like that, with a few casual strokes of a pen, our five-year marriage came to an end.

He didn't argue, didn't try to stop me, and couldn't even offer a half-decent explanation.

I picked up the pen from the table and, with deliberate strokes, signed my name: Stella Xander.

I was even surprised by how steady my hand was.

"Good girl," Shane purred with a self-satisfied smirk, tucking away the agreement. "You can leave now."

As I turned to leave, I heard him behind me, bragging, "See? Stella's obsessed with me. She never talks back. She'd do anything to keep me happy."

I walked into the sunlight but felt none of its warmth.

For the first time in five years, I stopped making excuses for Shane's coldness. I no longer tried to comfort myself for the pain he caused.

When the taxi pulled up at the Griffin Group building, I didn't get out. Instead, I told the driver to take me straight home, the villa where Shane and I had spent the last five years together.

The moment I stepped inside, I headed straight for the bedroom, dragged out my suitcase, and started packing my things.

In the walk-in closet, my clothes occupied just a tiny corner, lost among the endless rows of his custom-tailored suits and designer shirts.

On the vanity, my few skincare products were lost among his men's colognes.

As I packed my belongings on autopilot, memories from the past five years kept flashing through my mind.

I gave up my dream of becoming a designer to be his secretary instead.

I waited for him every night, reheating meals again and again.

I silently endured his endless neglect and indifference all because I loved him.

Love? What a ridiculous word.

My phone vibrated. Shane's name flashed on the screen.

I ignored the call and kept packing my belongings.

After three rings, the call ended. Then a text appeared: [Enough with the drama. Come back and stop acting like a child.]

I stared at the screen and let out a bitter laugh.

So in his eyes, I didn't even have the right to get angry.

As dusk fell, I finally finished packing all my belongings, which were pitifully few.

Just two suitcases held everything from my five years of married life.

I took one final look around the lavish yet ice-cold villa, then quietly closed the door behind me.