Chapter 2

I stared at him, utterly stunned.

Andrew didn't care about my pain; he was too busy soothing a sniffling Chloe.

I clenched my fists until it hurt, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my heart.

I went to the bedroom and called my father the moment the door shut.

"Dad, I've decided. I'm coming over."

He sounded overjoyed. "That's wonderful! We'll handle everything. Your flight is in three days."

I had been kidnapped as a child, but my birth parents never stopped looking for me.

Fate finally rewarded them.

They found me through an international DNA database two weeks ago.

They worked at a research center overseas and couldn't return yet, but they want me to join them.

I had hesitated because of Andrew.

I had wanted to share this news with Andrew and hope he'd go with me to meet them.

But now, it didn't matter anymore.

Since he thought I was no longer worthy of him, I guess I really was not.

Early the next morning, the racket from the dining room woke me up.

As soon as I stepped out of my room, Chloe snickered.

I frowned and caught my reflection in the mirror; someone had drawn two large pig faces on my cheeks with red marker.

I trembled with rage, staring at Andrew in utter disbelief.

He acted as if nothing had happened, doting on Chloe as he set out her breakfast.

"You made Chloe cry all night, so I promised to let her blow off some steam. Don't take it personally," he said.

"The marks on your face will wash off soon.

"I even queued up at the place you love to get breakfast. Come eat."

I looked at the table loaded with croissants, pancakes, and omelets, letting out a sarcastic laugh.

"These are all loaded with hot sauce. Have you forgotten I'm allergic to peppers?"

Andrew's expression soured instantly. "It's just a joke—don't overreact. Eat it or don't, whatever."

I ignored them, scrubbed the ink off my face, and grabbed a cab to a law firm.

I'd already contacted a divorce lawyer the night before.

Once I had the finalized papers, I texted Andrew: [I've signed my part. Let me know when you're ready to sign yours.]

Andrew replied almost instantly: [Are you for real? Fine. Bring the papers to the office right now, and I'll sign them.]

I didn't hesitate for a second. I grabbed a cab and headed straight to his office.

The receptionist treated me like a stranger, icily informing me that I needed an appointment.

I knew this was Andrew's way of asserting dominance; he wanted me to know I was nothing without him.

I waited outside for two hours. Just as I finally reached his office, I saw a sign standing right at the entrance.

[No Emily Carter or dogs allowed.]

Above my name was the photo from this morning—my hair wild and the pig faces on my cheeks.

The next second, a bucket of ice-cold water was poured over my head, soaking me to the bone.

Whispers and snickering broke out all around me.

Countless complicated stares landed on me.

"Is that Mrs. Grant? I heard the Grants took her in as a kid, and she forced him to marry her."

"After all this, Mr. Grant is siding with Chloe. It looks like he's ready to dump her for good."

"Exactly! Chloe twisted her ankle this morning, and I saw Mr. Grant sweep her up and carry her inside."

I stared at Andrew, trembling with humiliation.

My eyes burning red, I forced out each word. "Andrew, are you seriously going to call this another April Fool's prank?"

Chloe stood nearby, hiding a smirk behind her hand.

Andrew looked at me coldly. "Emily, since when did you start using divorce to threaten me?"

He stared at me for a moment before his tone softened into a mock-gentle smile. "Babe, I know the prank was a bit much, but you've had your tantrum. You aren't actually serious about this, are you?"

I stared at him, at the face I'd loved for years that now felt like a total stranger.

Tears streamed down my face, no matter how hard I tried to hold them back.

I threw the divorce papers directly at his chest.

"Andrew, this time, I'm the one who doesn't want you."

Andrew's expression froze. "Emily, are you serious?"

I met his eyes, my own rimmed with red. "Yes, I'm dead serious."

"Fine! Don't regret it!"

Andrew tore the divorce papers to pieces, sending shreds of paper raining down between us.

Our eyes met as he shoved a brand-new set of documents toward me.

"This is the new divorce agreement.

"Emily, you've lived off the Grants for years. If you leave, you won't get a single dime."

I felt a jolt of shock run through me.

It was true—the Grants had supported me all those years.

But I had worked for the Grant Corp since graduation, closing massive deals and securing their foothold in AI.

Only, his mother disliked women in the spotlight, and Andrew had developed stomach issues from business dinners.

So I had retired to the sidelines to focus on taking care of him.

All those years of sacrifice, and in his eyes, I only deserved to be kicked out with nothing.

I remembered the boy who'd been bitten by a mad dog to shield me.

I remembered the boy who'd braved his fear of water to save me.

I remembered the man who'd pulled all-nighters just to make me a unique diamond ring.

I remembered the man who'd kissed me softly and promised me a real home.

I broke into a hollow laugh, my face already wet with unstoppable tears.

He looked smug and confident, certain that I wouldn't sign.

I closed my eyes, then opened them with a calm resolve.

"Andrew, leaving you is the one thing I will never regret," I said flatly.

"I'll sign this—consider it payment for the Grants' kindness all those years."

With that, I signed the divorce papers without hesitation.

Back home, I quickly cleaned myself up and started packing.

I didn't have much, so packing was quick. But when I opened my jewelry box, I froze in disbelief.

The contents were gone!