Chapter 1 While attending a high-end auction with my best friend, I accidentally witnessed my husband—Arthur Sterling, the notoriously ruthless and supposedly devoted heir to the Sterling empire—win a fierce bidding war for a necklace I had admired for months. Yet, the very next day, that exact necklace was resting against the collarbone of his stunningly beautiful new intern. I didn't cry. I didn't cause a scene. I simply made a phone call to my contact at the boutique, purchased two hundred identical custom necklaces, and had them delivered to the women's dormitory at NYU. If he wanted to play the generous benefactor, I’d gladly help him out. I made sure he gave enough gifts to last a lifetime. While I was at it, I had my lawyer friend draft a divorce agreement and had it delivered straight to his desk. On that day, every single girl in Dormitory 1 at NYU received a lavish gift from the CEO's wife of Sterling Tech. Everyone, except Chloe Vance. ... When Arthur Sterling walked into the gala with Chloe Vance on his arm, the party was at its peak. The young, alluring girl clung intimately to Arthur’s arm, her face glowing with a radiant, victorious smile. The crowd surrounding me instantly parted, their faces painted with a mix of pity and awkward amusement. Even I was genuinely surprised that Arthur had the audacity to parade her around at a public event. Ours was an arranged marriage uniting two of the most powerful families in New York. I had assumed he would at least have the decency to save my face. But I was wrong. "What's with the silence, everyone? Are you all mesmerized by Arthur's new secretary?" I stepped up and offered the explanation myself. The crowd breathed a collective sigh of relief, murmuring in understanding. Arthur approached me, acting as if absolutely nothing was wrong, and softly called out, "Mia." Chloe followed suit, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "Hi, sister." Fighting back the urge to gag, I offered them a polite, elegant smile. We were all adults; there was no need to wear our emotions on our sleeves. Besides, in our social circle, the most crucial survival skill was knowing how to put on a mask. You smile when you're furious. You act affectionate when you're disgusted. And more importantly, given who Arthur Sterling was, throwing a tantrum here wouldn't benefit anyone. However, seeing that specific necklace gleaming on Chloe's neck finally extinguished any remaining warmth in my heart. Just ten minutes ago, I had watched Arthur gently, patiently tuck a stray strand of hair behind Chloe's ear before carefully pulling her slipped dress strap back into place. Yesterday, when I saw him walking out of the auction house, I had foolishly believed the necklace was for me. A sweet, naive thrill had bloomed in my chest, and I spent the rest of the day eagerly anticipating my surprise. This morning, I had even gone to the salon for a blowout and hired a makeup artist to make sure I looked perfect for the occasion. But hours passed, my styling was done, and the gift never arrived. I had even called him, dropping subtle hints, trying to gauge if he had a surprise waiting for me. The answer was no. But before he hung up, I heard a sweet, whining female voice in the background: "Mr. Sterling, won't your wife be upset if she finds out?" "No. She's always been mature and understanding. She won't mind." In that exact moment, I realized how painfully naive I had been. Arthur Sterling had probably been dirty for a long time. He was right about one thing: I was mature and understanding. Getting into a catfight with a cheap little homewrecker was beneath me. Chloe trailed closely behind Arthur. She was smiling sweetly at me, but the arrogance and provocation in her eyes were glaringly obvious. I sneered internally. She was just a clueless college student if she actually thought Arthur took her seriously. Staring directly at her neck, I drawled, "That's a beautiful necklace. A gift from someone special?" Chloe wasn't stupid. She understood exactly what I was implying. Chapter 2 A broke college student couldn't afford jewelry of that caliber. Chloe shot me a look of feigned shock before turning to Arthur with an expression that perfectly blended shyness and panic. Right on cue, Arthur stepped in to defend her. "Mia, don't misunderstand. Chloe had a rough time during her internship this week. As her boss, buying her a little gift to cheer her up is normal. There's nothing going on between us." I raised my champagne glass to him, smiling as if I completely understood, then turned away to make a quick phone call to my assistant. A moment later, Arthur's phone rang, and he stepped aside to take the call. A familiar socialite sauntered over, pretending to make small talk before slyly asking who Chloe was. I wasn't an idiot. Her question was dripping with mockery. The crowd wasn't blind. Everyone had seen how fiercely Arthur was protecting the young girl. I answered without skipping a beat, stripping away all the pleasantries. "Probably just a delusional homewrecker trying to sleep her way to the top." The blood instantly drained from Chloe's face. She looked utterly humiliated and deeply wronged. Her big, beautiful eyes immediately welled up with tears. What a tragic, innocent little victim. Truly heartbreaking. No wonder Arthur liked her. The socialite clearly hadn't expected me to be so brutally honest. Recognizing she was out of her depth, she awkwardly excused herself. I crossed my arms, looking Chloe up and down with an amused smirk. "Miss Vance, right? At your age, you should be focusing on your textbooks, studying for your finals, or preparing for grad school. Stop living in a fantasy world. If you keep playing this game, you're going to lose your dignity and your reputation." She knew I was humiliating her. Her lips trembled, but she couldn't formulate a single word. I scoffed internally. Just because I played the role of the elegant, understanding wife didn't mean I was a doormat she could walk all over. "Sister, I..." "Stop right there," I interrupted, raising a hand. "My mother only had one child. I don't have a sister. And we live in the 21st century; the era of concubines calling the wife 'sister' is long gone." Chloe's tears started falling faster. I was about to deliver another verbal blow when Arthur returned. He walked straight up to me, skipping the pleasantries. "Did you order those necklaces?" My assistant works fast. I nodded smoothly. "Yes." "Why did you order so many? You don't even wear that style." I leaned casually against a marble pillar, my tone teasing. "I'm doing you a favor, darling. College kids have it rough these days. Internships are exhausting. I figured I'd buy them all a little something to boost morale." Arthur's perpetually unreadable expression finally cracked. But he quickly masked it. He had always been a master of hiding his emotions. He smoothly slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me close, and whispered affectionately in my ear. "It's just a necklace. If you liked it, I can buy you another one. I don't care if you scare the interns, but I'd hate to see you get so upset over nothing." His voice was deep and husky, just like it had been during countless intimate nights. His breath brushed against my ear. In the past, it was a move meant for seduction. Now, it was a calculated tactic to extract Chloe from the mess she was in. I yielded to his grip, placing my hand on his back, and used the leverage to pull him even closer. Matching his tone, I whispered back: "You know exactly what Chloe is trying to do. This isn't just about the necklace. Arthur, I never cared about your little flings in the past. But don't forget, I am Mrs. Sterling now. If this blows up, it damages both of us." "What happened today—I expect it to be the last time." I delivered the final sentence through gritted teeth. It was a genuine threat. Chapter 3 Amidst the clinking glasses and chatter, the other guests assumed we were just flirting. A wave of good-natured teasing erupted around us. I felt him tense up. I gave his back a light, patronizing pat. Then, I turned, grabbed a fresh glass of champagne, and walked away. When the gala finally wound down and the guests began to leave, I thought I had made myself perfectly clear. My disgust couldn't have been more obvious. But I had severely underestimated how utterly shameless some people could be. As we were heading out, Chloe insisted on riding in Arthur's car with us. "Chloe's dorm is far, and it's impossible to get an Uber right now. It's on our way, so I'm just dropping her off." That was Arthur's excuse. It was a pathetic, transparent lie, and I called him out immediately. "The dorms are in Brooklyn, and our penthouse is in Manhattan. How exactly is that 'on our way'?" Arthur's brow furrowed in visible annoyance, while Chloe looked at me with big, teary eyes. The tableau made it look like I was the villain needlessly bullying a helpless girl. Seeing my refusal to play along, Arthur tried the emotional manipulation route. "Mia, you've always been so reasonable..." I cut him off before he could finish. "And if I say no?" Chloe stepped toward me, her eyes red. "Sister, I shouldn't have taken the necklace you liked. Tonight was my fault. But I really can't get a ride right now..." "I'll trade you my favorite perfume for it, okay?" She held out an exquisitely packaged perfume bottle. Judging by the luxury branding, it was clearly another gift from Arthur. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "What does that even smell like? Desperation and cheap tea?" The relentless humiliation finally made Chloe's face flush a deep, angry crimson. She stood there, awkwardly holding back tears. Arthur, who had maintained his gentlemanly facade all night, finally snapped. His voice was low and dangerous. "Mia, you're crossing the line." I scoffed. "This is crossing the line?" "Arthur, don't forget who hosted this gala tonight. Without my father pulling strings for you, your new merger is dead in the water." Without waiting for his response, I shoved past the weeping Chloe and got into the car. He was a businessman above all else. He knew how to weigh the pros and cons. He knew exactly what my threat meant. He might be aloof and arrogant, but I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth too. I was raised to be a titan, not a trophy wife. In the corporate world, emotions have very little value. In the end, he got into the car with me. We drove in suffocating silence. I couldn't care less about fighting a naive college girl over a man. But my status in our social circle meant I couldn't allow myself to be humiliated. Rumors about Arthur Sterling leaving his wife on the sidewalk for an intern would be a PR disaster. However, when I realized the passenger seat had been readjusted, I had to admit my tolerance for disrespect had a limit. This clueless little girl had managed to push my buttons. It didn't take a genius to figure out who had messed with my seat. Stuck to the passenger side window control was a bright pink sticky note: "Princess Parking Only." A surge of blind rage hit me. I wanted nothing more than to kick the man next to me out of a moving vehicle, drive back to the venue, and slap Chloe Vance across the face. Just as I was about to detonate, a phone rang. Chloe's sobbing voice filled the quiet car. "Arthur... sob... I couldn't get a cab. I think someone is following me. I'm so scared. Can you come get me...?" Arthur didn't hesitate for a fraction of a second. He slammed on the brakes, pulling the car violently to the shoulder. He spoke in a frantic, soothing voice. "Okay, don't panic. Stay exactly where you are. I'm coming to get you." My hand, which had been reaching to adjust my seat, froze. I turned to look at him in absolute disbelief. Arthur frowned. "Mia, take a cab home. Chloe might be in real danger. I have to go to her." I let out a harsh, incredulous laugh. "We're in the middle of 5th Avenue. It's packed with people. There's a police precinct three blocks from NYU. What kind of danger could she possibly be in?" "Are you her father? If she's in danger, she should call 911, not you!" Chapter 4 Arthur was rendered speechless by my logic. He closed his eyes in frustration, took a deep breath, and opened them again. "Mia, you're both women. Can you show a little empathy?" "Are you really going to hold a grudge over a single necklace?" I refused to yield an inch. "Are you blind, Arthur? She's blatantly provoking me, and you can't see it? You're going to abandon your wife on the street for an outsider?" The emotions in Arthur's eyes shifted rapidly—from anger, to coldness, and finally, to profound disappointment. "Mia, when did you become so irrational and demanding? You used to be better than this." I scoffed. I'm irrational? "Arthur, this is the first time you've ever fought with me over another woman." Arthur turned his head sharply to stare out the window, clearly signaling he was done with the conversation. "Did you forget our prenuptial agreement? We agreed that even if there was no love between us, there would be mutual respect. You don't humiliate me with mistresses, and I don't embarrass you with scandals. This isn't just about us; it's about the Sterling and the Harrison families. Are you really going to break the rules for her?" The only sound in the quiet car was Arthur's heavy breathing. I knew he was wavering. In this tedious, pointless game of tug-of-war, I had won the first round. That night, Arthur and I slept in separate rooms. His excuse was that I was being too aggressive, that I was suffocating him, and that he needed space for both of us to cool down. Fine. It gave me the space I needed to seriously re-evaluate our relationship. Lying in bed, the events of the day replayed in my mind. It was the first time Arthur had ever compromised my dignity for another woman. The Sterlings and the Harrisons were old family friends, but Arthur and I had barely interacted growing up. I only knew the eldest Sterling heir through the brief, dismissive comments made by my elders. The general consensus was that he was a spoiled, useless playboy coasting on his family's wealth. But at our families' matchmaking dinner three years ago, I had to admit, I was captivated by his unique charisma. Beneath his handsome, sharp exterior was a sharp, witty mind, and he handled complex situations with effortless grace. So, when our parents suggested marriage, I agreed. With our matching backgrounds and education, there was a strong mutual respect. We finalized the engagement quickly. I hadn't factored "love" or "feelings" into the equation. Growing up in a corporate dynasty, the first lesson you learn is cost-benefit analysis. After the wedding, we maintained our separate stock portfolios, but our families executed a massive corporate merger, and our respective businesses skyrocketed. I always believed that Arthur and I were simply the most optimal, logical choices for each other. But at some point, he had seemingly started to fall for me. The arrogant, untouchable heir of the Sterling empire would hold me in the middle of the night, whispering sweet nothings and burying his face in my neck like a giant, affectionate dog. In the dead of winter, he would warm my freezing feet inside his own pajamas. When I had terrible cramps, he would personally brew me ginger tea. When it rained, he would tilt the umbrella entirely over me, completely ignoring the fact that his own shoulder was getting soaked. Just a few months ago, he had told me, "Mia, you will always be my first choice." But the moment Chloe Vance appeared, everything changed in the blink of an eye. After years of navigating the cutthroat corporate world, this was the first time I felt truly, deeply exhausted. My phone buzzed. A WeChat message from Arthur: "Goodnight, Mia." Followed by a cute sticker of a cartoon cat patting another cat's head. Chapter 5 That was Arthur. Even in the middle of a cold war, he maintained his flawless poker face. Even when we were fighting, he played the role of the perfect husband to the letter. I had a bit of a headache from the champagne, so I went to the kitchen to pour a glass of milk. But when I reached for my favorite ceramic mug, I noticed a hairline fracture near the handle. I summoned the housekeeper and demanded to know who had touched it. The housekeeper trembled. "We don't know, ma'am! You gave strict orders that we were never to wash this mug. None of the staff have touched it." She was right. I had given that order. For my birthday last year, Arthur had commissioned this piece from my favorite master ceramicist. He had flown out of his way to Germany during a business trip just to pick it up. I cherished it deeply. But now, it was damaged. The housekeeper nervously asked if I wanted her to send it out for repairs. I said no. Because it was so precious, even the smallest flaw was unacceptable. A few minutes later, I pulled up the kitchen security footage on my phone. The video showed Chloe picking up my mug, flashing a malicious smirk, and intentionally dropping it into the stainless steel sink. Arthur actually brought her to our home. The necklace yesterday had annoyed me because it was a waste of a beautiful piece of jewelry. Chloe lacked the class to wear it; putting it on her was like draping silk over a pig. But coming into my home, breaking my things, and throwing a tantrum on my territory? That was a blatant, unforgivable declaration of war. A blinding rage erupted in my chest, burning away every ounce of my rationality. With a violent sweep of my arm, I sent the precious ceramic mug crashing to the floor, shattering it into a million pieces. And along with it, my marriage to Arthur Sterling shattered too. I walked back into my bedroom and dialed my lawyer. "Hey, Julian. Draft a divorce agreement for me. I need it ASAP." I am Mia Harrison. If a cup is cracked, I smash it completely. And if a man is dirty, I throw him out. When I woke up the next morning, Arthur was nowhere to be found. The staff told me he had taken a phone call and rushed out in a panic. Another crisis with Chloe, I assume. I showered, ate breakfast, and drove myself to work. As I was walking into the corporate headquarters, a young girl collided with me. The hot congee she was holding spilled entirely over the skirt of my dress. She panicked, stammering frantic apologies while desperately trying to wipe the stain off my dress with a crumpled tissue. I was about to instinctively say it was fine, but the girl suddenly dropped to her knees, grabbing my arm and begging for forgiveness. Even though it was the middle of summer, she was wearing a worn-out, heavy winter coat. Her face was smudged with dirt, but her bone structure was striking. When she looked up at me, a strange sense of familiarity hit me, but I couldn't place her face. I ignored her bizarre, dramatic display and gestured for the security guards to escort her away. But as I reached into my bag for a wet wipe, I realized my phone was gone. Instantly understanding what had just happened, I grabbed the girl by the arm, reached into the pocket of her heavy coat, and pulled out my phone. The sheer audacity made my blood boil. The girl finally seemed to realize she was in serious trouble. She stayed on her knees, sobbing and begging me to let her go. I stared down at her with absolute disgust and signaled the guards to drag her away. "Learn to have some self-respect. Being born poor isn't your fault, but you have two hands and two feet. You don't have to resort to being a thief." Right at that moment, Arthur stepped out of his car across the street and witnessed the entire scene. Across the busy avenue, the look he gave me was filled with nothing but cold, judgmental distance.
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