Chapter 1

On December 21, 2022, the whole city was buried under a thick layer of snow. I was in the kitchen with the chef, busy making our traditional food, when the doorbell suddenly rang. The instant I opened the door, my smile froze right on my face.

Joseph Aguirre stood outside with a woman by his side, her eyes shining with hope and excitement. Snowflakes clung stubbornly to their shoes.

Joseph cast a silent glance at the chef working behind me, his expression unreadable. With a subtle gesture, he dismissed him. "You don't need to come in tomorrow. Take half a month off—come back after the New Year."

The chef and I shared a tense glance. He carefully gathered up his utensils and slipped out of the villa.

Now that it was just the three of us in the house, Joseph pulled out a document. "This is the divorce agreement. Abbie's pregnant. I can't let our child be born out of wedlock. Once the baby takes my last name, we'll get married again."

I looked down at the glaring words "leave with nothing" on the divorce agreement—it felt like my heart was being crushed in a vice.

"We're getting remarried soon anyway. Dividing up everything would be too messy, so let's just skip all that," Joseph added, his tone utterly indifferent.

Abbie Robinson suddenly interjected, not even trying to hide how eager she was. Her tone sounded humble on the surface, but every word pushed right into me. "Victoria, I know it's not fair for you, but could you just put up with it for the baby's sake? I swear, once things are sorted, Joseph will do right by you."

She couldn't quite hide the smug satisfaction behind her meek façade, like she'd already sealed the deal. That promise of "doing right by me"? We all knew it meant absolutely nothing.

I gave a chilly, mocking laugh. "Leaving me with nothing? Wow, Mr. Aguirre, that's really generous of you."

Joseph frowned. "Victoria, this is only for now. You know how much I care about the family legacy—trust me, this is the best move for both of us."

"Sure, I'll sign." I didn't even blink before picking up the pen, slapping my signature on the divorce agreement, and sliding it over to Joseph.

Abbie stared at me in shock, almost as if she couldn't believe I was willing to end things so cleanly.

She lowered her voice and asked, "Victoria... are you really sure you don't want to think this through?"

I just flashed a cold smile. "Congrats on the baby, really. Hope you two have an amazing life together."

Joseph finally relaxed, gave Abbie a pat on the shoulder, and said, "Let's go. You'll be staying in the guest room tonight."

I turned and headed upstairs, locking my bedroom door behind me. I took off my wedding ring and tossed it straight into the trash. Then I started packing. I didn't need much—just my laptop for work, a few changes of clothes, and some jewelry. I stuffed everything into my suitcase and wheeled it over to the window.

At four months, my baby bump was barely noticeable, hidden well beneath my loose loungewear. I placed a gentle hand over my slightly rounded belly, my thoughts swirling. Do I really want to keep this child?

Abbie's voice floated up softly from downstairs. "You don't think Victoria would do something stupid, do you?"

"She won't. She'll come back once she's had some time to think," Joseph said, his confidence clear. But I picked up something strange in his tone—almost like this whole mess wasn't really his idea after all.

I smirked coldly, opened the window, and gently lowered my suitcase into the snowy yard outside.

At ten that night, with the sound of water running in the master bathroom, I crept downstairs, snatched up my suitcase, and slipped out of that palatial mansion I'd called home for three years.

On the other side of the city, Devan Porter studied my medical report in silence for a long moment. "Ms. Howard, are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this? You're already four months along—there are serious risks involved."

I nodded and handed the divorce agreement to him. "Signed it just today. He showed up with his new woman and tossed me out with nothing."

Devan adjusted his glasses. "Does he know you're pregnant?"

"He doesn't, and he doesn't need to," I said, voice steady. "Keeping this child would only torture both of us—especially now that he already has a new one coming."

Devan sighed. "Alright, I'll get you checked in. We'll run a full round of tests to make sure you're safe."

The surgery itself went off without a hitch, but the pain afterwards was far beyond anything I'd expected. After a week in the hospital, on December 29, 2022, I found myself holed up in a tiny apartment, trying to nurse myself back to health.

At night, when I was all alone, my thoughts kept returning to the odd way Joseph and Abbie had acted. There was this nagging sense that something about the divorce wasn't as simple as it seemed, but at that point, I just couldn't bring myself to care anymore.

It wasn't true that I had nothing, despite what Joseph claimed. Before marrying him, I was a jewelry designer—earning a decent living and already had a promising career.

Then he decided my job wasn't "high society" enough, so I gave it up to fit his image of the perfect wife. But secretly, I kept working online under the name "Jade," landing freelance design jobs for luxury brands all around the world.