Chapter 1

As Nina Lynn set the last dish of sweet and sour pork ribs on the table, the grandfather clock in the living room chimed seven times.

Three years had passed, and she still remembered every one of Barton Gray's preferences. The ribs had to have a slight char on the edges, the steamed sea bass had to be fresh-caught and cooked right away, and even the rice had to have ten percent less water than usual, because he liked it with distinct grains.

The food was steaming hot. Two place settings were arranged on the table.

The sound of the door unlocking came from the hallway.

Nina instinctively straightened her apron and turned around with a graceful smile. "You're home. Wash your hands and let's eat."

Her words caught in her throat.

Barton stood in the entryway, and behind him was a woman in a white dress with immaculate makeup, her head slightly bowed, exposing a slender, fair neck. She looked fragile and vulnerable.

Yulia Lewis.

Nina knew exactly who she was. Three years ago, Barton's phone screensaver was a photo of Yulia, and when he got drunk, he'd mumble her name. On their wedding day, Barton disappeared for an hour—Nina only found out later that Yulia was leaving the country that day, and Barton had gone to the airport to see her off. *****

"Nina," Yulia was the first to speak, her voice gentle and sweet. "Sorry for showing up out of the blue."

Nina fixed her gaze on Barton.

He avoided her eyes, bent down, and handed Yulia a pair of slippers. "Come on in."

The slippers were brand new, a soft lotus pink, with the tags still attached. Nina remembered them—last month, when Barton had actually gone shopping with her, she picked up these slippers and said they looked nice. He glanced at the price and said, "Don't we already have slippers at home?" So she put them back.

Turns out, it wasn't about the price.

He just didn't want to buy them for her.

"You haven't eaten yet, have you?" Nina kept her gentle smile. "I just made dinner, I can set another place."

Yulia quickly waved her hand. "No need to trouble yourself, Nina. I was just passing by to check on Barton. I'll head out soon."

"You're already here, just sit and eat," Barton cut her off, his tone as bland as if he were hosting any ordinary family meal.

The three of them sat down at the table.

Nina took her usual seat, while Barton and Yulia sat side by side across from her. Yulia picked up a piece of pork rib, her eyes sparkling. "Wow, this tastes amazing! Barton, you love these, don't you? Nina, your cooking is seriously the best."

Barton mumbled a quiet "yeah," without even looking up.

Nina lowered her head and picked at her rice, suddenly realizing she'd spent two hours cooking, but now she couldn't eat at all.

"Nina, what do you usually do at home?" Yulia asked, tilting her head.

"I just do some chores and read a bit," Nina replied.

"I really envy you, being able to just stay home without worries," Yulia sighed. "Unlike me, working overseas means I'm busy till midnight every day—I barely even have time for a proper meal."

Nina just smiled and stayed quiet. She wanted to say that she used to have a career too—a graphic designer making over six grand a month. But after they got married, Barton said, "I'll take care of you," and told her to just focus on being a housewife, so she quit and spent her days trying out new recipes, cleaning up, and waiting for him to come back.

"Yulia's back because of a job transfer," Barton finally spoke up. "She'll be staying here for good."

"That's great," Nina said.

She genuinely meant it. What did it matter to her if it was great or not? She wouldn't be around for much longer anyway.

After dinner, Yulia insisted on washing the dishes, but Nina wouldn't let her. Once Nina finished tidying up the kitchen and came out, Barton was the only one left in the living room, smoking by the floor-to-ceiling window.

"Where's Yulia?" Nina asked.

"I sent her home," Barton replied.

Nina nodded and headed for the bedroom.

"Wait," Barton called out.

She turned around.

Barton reached into his suit pocket and pulled out something, dropping it onto the coffee table. The thin slip of paper landed lightly on the marble.

It was a check.

Two million dollars.

Nina stared down at the check, saying nothing for a moment.

"This marriage was always just a transaction," Barton said, his voice cool and businesslike. "Back then, your family was in trouble. I paid off your debts, and you married me. Now Yulia's back. She needs me. Take the money and leave—leave gracefully."

"Leave gracefully," Nina repeated his words in her mind.

She suddenly wanted to laugh.