Chapter 1
I risked my life pulling Charles Grant out of a crash scene, nearly destroying my own hands. Then I spent years as his woman behind the scenes—washing, cooking, enduring family drama, and his loveless, cold stares like a faded housewife.
In the end, all I got was 20 million dollars and the label of stand-in.
Charles wanted a divorce? Fine. He didn't realize that I was the one secretly funding his entire empire.
*****
The rain in Harbor City was pouring down, sharp and cold.
Hailey stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, dressed in a faded cotton nightgown. She gripped a spoon, stirring the special homemade stew simmering in the pot. It was Charles's favorite.
Today marked their third wedding anniversary.
She had been working on this dinner since three in the afternoon, finally finishing at eight. The red wine had been decanted, and the candles were half-melted, their flickering flames casting a soft glow that revealed the hope in her eyes.
The sudden sound and glow from her phone shattered the dead silence in the living room.
It wasn't a message from Charles saying he was home. Instead, it was a notification from Twitter.
[Breaking! Charles Grant, CEO of Grant Holdings, was spotted at the airport late at night, holding his old flame, Yura Shaw, who had just returned from abroad. Is a wedding on the horizon?]
In the photo, Charles, who was always so cold and aloof, who wouldn't even brush against Hailey, was now holding a woman in a white coat.
He had his head lowered, his chin resting on her hair, his eyes overflowing with a tenderness that seemed to melt him.
Hailey had never seen Charles like this.
The front door swung open, and a rush of cold air mixed with the sharp scent of cedar clinging to Charles hit Hailey in the face.
Charles was back.
He didn't bother to take off his shoes. He tossed a document carelessly onto the dining table, covering the anniversary card Hailey had set out.
"Sign it," he said, his voice icier than the storm outside.
Hailey lowered her gaze, her eyes falling on the bold words at the top: [Divorce Agreement.]
"Why?" Hailey heard her voice trembling, her fingers gripping the spoon so tightly her knuckles turned white.
"Yura's not in good health. She can't handle any more hardship," Charles said, tugging at his tie, his brow furrowed with impatience.
"The Grant family hasn't treated you badly these past three years. You can keep the apartment in the south, and I'll give you twenty million dollars in cash. Hailey, don't push your luck."
Push my luck? Hailey's lips curled into a bitter, self-mocking smile.
For three years, she had played the dutiful wife, tending to Charles's every need. When his stomach acted up, she learned healthy recipes from renowned chefs.
When he couldn't sleep, she taught herself acupressure. To protect his reputation, she cut off all her social ties, willingly becoming the invisible Mrs. Grant, hidden in the shadows.
But in the end, to Charles, all of it was something he could measure with twenty million dollars—a so-called hadn't treated her badly.
"Charles, do you remember who stayed by your side for three months when you were badly injured in that car crash three years ago?" Hailey asked as she looked up, her eyes locked on him.
A flicker of contempt crossed Charles's face. He said, "Hailey, stop harping on how you took care of me back then. That was a paid job for the Grant family. Yura's back now, so your role as the stand-in is over. Time to leave."
"A stand-in?" Hailey's heart clenched hard.
"What else?" Charles sneered, stepping in and pinching her chin between his fingers.
"Did you really think a nobody, an orphan with nothing, could hold onto the title of Mrs. Grant? The only reason you got to stay was that your eyes reminded me of Yura's."
So, all those three years of warmth—they were never hers to begin with.
Just then, the front door swung open again. Charles's mother, Lynn Grant, strode in, carrying a limited-edition Birkin bag and clicking her heels with authority.
"Still not signed?" Lynn said as she shot a look of disgust at the food on the table.
"Ugh, it reeks of poverty. Hailey, if you know what's good for you, get out. Look at yourself; you're not worth a strand of Yura's hair.
"Charles's destined for greatness, and you, a nobody who only knows how to cook, are dead weight."
Hailey stared at Lynn's mean, snide face right in front of her.
For three years, she had put up with everything—taking all her crap, getting shamed in front of everyone, and even needing approval to buy a coat for winter.
Hailey thought that if she was humble enough, she'd finally get a place to belong.
"Stop wasting my time," Charles said, glancing at his watch, his voice cold as ice. "Yura's waiting for me at the hotel. Sign the papers and make sure you're gone by tomorrow morning."
Hailey stayed silent for a long time.
She looked down at the divorce agreement, then, out of nowhere, she laughed.
Her laughter started low, then grew sharper, ringing with a newfound clarity and icy freedom she had never felt before.
"Fine, I'll sign," she said.
Hailey grabbed the pen without hesitation and scrawled her name at the bottom. The sound of the pen slicing through the paper was crisp and strangely satisfying.
Charles froze for a moment. He had expected Hailey to cry, beg, or plead with him, like before, but she didn't.
Instead, he caught a flash of barely concealed disgust in her eyes.
Hailey tossed the pen aside with a swift, careless motion, as if she were throwing away garbage.
"Charles, hope you don't regret this someday," Hailey said.
"Regret it?" Charles laughed like it was the funniest thing he had heard all night. He said, "Hailey, without the Grant family, you won't last a day in this city. Let's see how long your stubborn pride keeps you afloat."
Hailey didn't say a word. She turned and walked toward the bedroom.
Five minutes later, she swapped out her cheap nightgown for a minimalist black trench coat with a high-end finish.
As she walked past the dining table, Hailey tossed the entire pot of stew right into the trash.
"Even a beast wouldn't touch this," she said.
With Lynn's outraged shrieks and Charles's dumbfounded look behind her, Hailey pushed open the door and walked straight into the darkness and pouring rain.