Seven years into our marriage, Elias Thorne’s kept canary finally said she was bored. She packed her bags and ran, leaving behind only one sentence: "Elias, I've milked you for enough cash. I don't want you anymore." I watched from the sidelines with cold detachment, waiting to see how long Elias could endure it this time. After all, this exact drama had been playing out constantly for the last three years. But this time, he just laughed coldly. "She’s just a pet. Did she really think I cared?" Until, not long after, news broke that she had died in a horrific car crash. The man who was always so cold and unfeeling instantly lost his mind. 1 After Chloe’s death, Elias acted like a man possessed, locking himself in his study without food or water. When I knocked on the door, the only response I got was a muffled, icy, "Get lost." I knew he was grieving, and for a split second, I almost apologized. But then I stopped myself, realizing how pathetic that was. We weren't divorced yet. He was the one who cheated and betrayed our marriage. Why should I be the one apologizing? I looked at the cold dinner on the table. The soup I had slow-cooked for five hours had congealed, giving off a faint, unpleasant smell. I threw it all into the trash. Just like our twenty years of history. If I didn't throw it away now, it would just rot and breed maggots. Disgusting to me, and disgusting to everyone else. On the eighth day, Elias finally walked out of the room. He had cleaned himself up, shaved, and returned to his usual arrogant, untouchable self. But the way he looked at me was darker than ever, as if I was the reason the love of his life was dead. I stared back quietly, waiting for him to speak. I knew a storm was coming. We had known each other since childhood and had been married for seven years. From school uniforms to a wedding dress, I always thought we would walk the same path until the end. But halfway through the journey, someone decided to get out of the car, and it seemed I had no choice but to accept it. "Where is she?" Elias’s voice was dead, devoid of any emotion. After a long silence, I answered softly, "Buried." Elias’s face instantly darkened, and he glared at me with pure, concentrated hatred. "Scarlett, who gave you permission to bury her?" "Do you think your filthy hands are even worthy of touching her?" He spat the words out through gritted teeth, his eyes vicious. I could feel it—if I wasn't currently pregnant, he would have lunged forward and strangled me. But I still overestimated my place in his heart. A second later, he shoved me hard onto the sofa. His massive hands clamped down on my throat, squeezing tightly, forcing the last bit of air from my lungs. The room started spinning. My vision went black, and the sounds around me faded into a dull ringing. He sounded completely deranged. "Did you really think being pregnant meant I wouldn't touch you?" "Do you actually think I care about that bastard child?" "Chloe is dead. Don't worry, you and that little mutt inside you are next." The sheer terror of suffocation made me try to scream for help, but his grip was so tight I couldn't make a sound. I realized then that Elias truly wanted me dead. I don't know how much time passed before the crushing weight on my chest vanished, followed by the deafening sound of the front door slamming shut. As my consciousness slowly returned, I sat numbly on the sofa. I picked up my phone and booked an appointment at an abortion clinic. 2 Elias and I were childhood friends, and our marriage was a strategic business alliance. Our parents had arranged our engagement when we were three, and we signed our marriage papers before we even graduated college. Our early married life was harmonious and happy. Perhaps due to his upbringing, Elias was unfazed by most things. He never compromised, didn't know how to love properly, and certainly never said sweet things. But after we got married, he would prepare little surprises for me. On my birthdays, he would bake a cake himself. Then, like a magician, he would pull out a necklace I had been eyeing for months, hugging me tightly. "Scarlett, I'm not heartless. Just give me some time. I'll figure out how to love you properly." "Don't give up on me, okay?" Every time he said that, I would nod vigorously and whisper that we had a lifetime to figure it out. And in the dead of night, lost in the heat of the moment, he would press his lips to my ear and whisper things that made me blush. When did it all change? Probably the day Elias first met Chloe. Because we had stayed up too late the night before, I couldn't get out of bed the next morning. Elias had to attend a scheduled networking event alone. Chloe was the assistant of the client he was meeting. She was fresh out of college, radiating a nervous, timid energy. When she smiled shyly, she looked harmless and adorable. She didn't know how to play golf, so she boldly asked Elias to teach her. They exchanged numbers, and from their first meeting to making things official, it took less than two weeks. Chloe quit her job and jumped ship to his company. Elias kept her close, teaching her every aspect of the business, meticulously cultivating her like a rose about to bloom. The pathetic part was, I never even got the chance to confront Chloe face-to-face. Elias hid her incredibly well. I tried to investigate, but found absolutely nothing. Worse, trying to dig into her only triggered his wrath. Once, I paid a fortune and finally got ahold of Chloe’s personal background file. Before I could even do anything with it, a massive dossier detailing my own father's secret mistresses was placed on my desk. And it wasn't just my dad—almost every dark secret and privacy violation of my entire extended family was in that file. Elias’s warning was crystal clear: if I targeted Chloe, my family’s scandals would be leaked to the press immediately. That night, I smashed every single vase, plate, and lamp in the mansion right in front of him. Elias just sat quietly on the sofa, watching me destroy the place without a care in the world. He looked at me like I was insane. The irony was... Now, he was the one who had gone completely insane. 3 That same night, just as I fell asleep, his executive assistant called me. "Ms. Sterling, Mr. Thorne is digging up the Madam's grave. Please, you have to come stop him." I let out a bitter laugh. I was Elias’s legal wife, the one he actually married, yet everyone called Chloe "Madam" and referred to me simply as "Ms. Sterling." Ever since I decided to divorce him and stood him up at the lawyer's office, Elias had publicly declared on his official corporate social media account: Chloe is the only wife I will ever have in this lifetime. After that day, I became the biggest laughingstock in New York high society. I touched my throat, the bruises still throbbing with dull pain. "If he's losing his mind, call his parents. Don't call me. It has nothing to do with me." With that, I hung up. I never expected Elias to actually resort to grave robbing. Ever since he got together with Chloe, we talked about divorce more often than we ate dinner. But it never went through. Either I refused, or Chloe would call him away with some emergency excuse right as we were about to sign. The closest we got was two months ago. Elias offered me half his net worth in exchange for a divorce. I agreed. But the day before we were supposed to sign the final papers, I found out I was pregnant. I didn't show up. Elias blew up my phone that day, and that was the exact same day Chloe packed her bags and left. When Elias’s grandfather found out, he came over and talked to Elias all night. Elias defied everyone else, but he deeply respected and obeyed his grandfather. The next day, Elias recalled all the men he had sent out to find Chloe. He stopped tearing the world apart looking for her. We didn't speak a single word to each other after that, and neither of us brought up the divorce again. At the time, I thought that even if he didn't care about me, he at least cared about the baby. Looking back, trying to use a child to tie down a man was the most pathetic thing I had ever done. The next morning, I went to the clinic and had the abortion. I wasn't a saint, and I had no desire to be a single mother. I could live without being loved, but any child of mine deserved to be born into a stable, healthy family. The procedure was quick, and I was discharged and back home by the afternoon. Now that the baby was gone, getting a divorce was just a matter of signing a piece of paper. Elias hadn't shown his face once during this entire time. But then again, he was busy scouring the globe for his little mistress. He absolutely refused to believe Chloe was actually dead. 4 After seven years of marriage, I didn't have too many personal belongings, but it wasn't a small amount either. I hired some workers to set up an incinerator bin in the courtyard. Anything that could burn, I burned. Anything that couldn't—like the jewelry—I sold. I didn't want to take a single item from this mansion, nor did I want to leave a single trace of my existence behind. So I just burned it all. When Elias finally returned, he caught me right as I tossed our massive wedding portrait into the fire. I was a little surprised to see him. He had been MIA for over a month; I thought he might have actually gone and killed himself to be with her. Through the thick smoke, his eyes were freezing cold. He looked at me like I was a corpse. He was holding a wooden urn against his chest. As he walked past me, he suddenly shoved me hard. If the butler hadn't reacted quickly and caught me, I would have fallen face-first into the incinerator. I would have been permanently disfigured. A chilling realization shot up my spine. Elias had completely lost his mind. He was trying to brutally disfigure me as revenge. Elias clicked his tongue, sounding genuinely disappointed. "Clean this mess up." With that, he turned and headed for the stairs. A surge of white-hot rage erupted from my chest. He kept a mistress—I endured it. He threatened my family—I endured it. Chloe's endless provocations—I endured it. The time he forced himself on me while drunk, resulting in my pregnancy—I endured it. I endured, and endured, and endured for three whole years. And now he was openly trying to kill me? I was done enduring. If this is how it’s going to be, let it all burn. I sprinted after him, grabbed his arm, spun him around, and slapped him across the face with every ounce of strength I had. His head snapped to the side from the impact. He slowly turned back, glaring at me with dead, icy eyes. Looking at the bright red handprint forming on Elias’s cheek, I instantly felt a massive wave of satisfaction. "Tomorrow morning at 9 AM. We’re getting divorced." "Chloe’s death has absolutely nothing to do with me. Stop trying to pin your tragedies on me. You know exactly how I got pregnant, and the only reason I didn't show up to sign the papers that day was because your mother dragged me to the family estate." "And your little mistress was buried because your mother explicitly ordered it. Because she couldn't stand watching her son act like a pathetic, deranged ghoul. So stop blaming everyone else for your own miserable life." Elias didn't react to my explanation at all. I didn't care if he believed me or not. It had nothing to do with me anymore. I had made myself perfectly clear. As I walked out of the Thorne family mansion, I carefully recalled the question Elias had asked me months ago. "Have you ever experienced the agony of watching the person you love die?" The person I love? Hah! How did I answer him back then? Oh, right. I remember now. I said, "Elias, as far as my heart is concerned, you died a long time ago." When two people are deeply in love, they are completely blind to anyone else. In the past, I was so blind I couldn't see Chloe. Now, Elias was so blind he couldn't see me. 5 "After all these years, are you really just going to walk away?" Carter was a mutual friend of mine and Elias. Throughout this tortuous three-year love triangle, he had been my sole source of information regarding Chloe. Walk away? After seven years of love, hate, and obsession, it would be a lie to say I never fantasized about him changing his ways. But when Chloe died, I finally understood. In a love triangle, whoever ends up being the "backup option" has already lost. I chuckled softly, tapping the ash off my cigarette. Ever since I found out about Chloe, I had picked up smoking. I hated alcohol. I was terrified of doing something I'd regret while drunk, so I smoked to release the stress. It was my only way to momentarily soothe my completely numb heart. Seeing me stay silent, he continued: "Chloe is dead. Since you already put up with him for three years, why not just wait a little longer? He'll come back to you eventually." "Plus, you're pregnant. Even if Elias agreed to the divorce, the Thorne family would never allow it." "I don't need their permission." I hadn't told anyone about the abortion yet. Seeing that I wouldn't budge, Carter grew visibly agitated. He cursed at me in frustration: "Are you an idiot? For all we know, Chloe might not even be dead." I frowned. "What do you mean?" He stayed silent for a long moment, then gritted his teeth and spilled the whole story. Chloe wasn't dead! That was a plot twist I genuinely didn't see coming. Chloe had thrown a tantrum, run away, and gotten into a car crash. To force Elias to move on and live a normal life with me—especially since I was pregnant—his grandfather had declared her dead and hid her away in a remote facility so Elias would give up. But no one expected his grandson to go so utterly insane that he would literally dig up graves in the middle of the night. Elias's mother couldn't take it anymore. She couldn't just sit back and watch her son grieve himself to death. So, she finally caved. They had just brought Chloe back. Carter sighed, still trying to convince me: "It really doesn't need to end in divorce, Scarlett. I can tell he still cares about you deep down." "Now that the truth is out, just focus on having the baby safely. With your family and the Thornes backing you, no matter how much Chloe jumps around, she'll never be able to step over you." "And then what?" I crushed the cigarette stub into the ashtray, my voice flat. I pretty much understood the whole picture now. He froze. Seeing my expression remain completely indifferent, he swallowed whatever else he was going to say. I didn't wait for him, continuing calmly: "And then what? I just keep enduring them like before? Watching Chloe occasionally pop up in my face to assert dominance, while they continue their little 'runaway bride' roleplay?" "And when I have the baby, my child has to grow up watching this twisted dynamic?" "And the next time Chloe gets bored and decides to fake her death again, my baby and I will probably be forced to join her in the grave to appease his grief, right?" I suddenly found it all incredibly hilarious. I remembered how, not long ago, he had his hands around my throat, calling my unborn baby a mutt. And then he turned around and dug up graves for Chloe. He was willing to take thirty lashes from his grandfather's cane just for a shred of news about her. But when he came home, he intentionally tried to shove me into an incinerator. Having grown up with him, I knew exactly how rotten Elias’s core truly was. The most ironic part? By the time he pushed me toward that fire, he already knew Chloe was alive. And yet, he still wanted to destroy me. After all these years of entanglement, it boiled down to one simple truth. It wasn't that he didn't know how to love. It was just that he didn't love me anymore. 6 Elias didn't show up on the day we were supposed to finalize the divorce. I didn't bother calling him. I knew exactly where he was—at the hospital, by Chloe's side. She hadn't died, but she had suffered multiple fractures and temporary blindness. The two of them were experiencing a dramatic, tearful reunion. He probably couldn't bear to leave her side for a single second. Elias had even flown in the top medical specialists from Europe for her. Such "profound" love. I laughed bitterly. Since we had a prenup anyway, I just contacted my lawyer and filed the papers through the courts. There was no other reason—it was simply the fastest way. I bought a random plane ticket down south. I changed my phone number and permanently deleted all my social media accounts. Sitting on the plane, I stared out at the layers of white clouds passing by the window. In a daze, my mind drifted back to when Elias and I were kids. Our families were old money and deeply connected. Our parents got along so well they literally bought houses next door to each other. But my parents loved to party and travel the world—separately. I didn't understand it back then. I naively asked Elias about it. "Why don't your parents and my parents ever play together?" "Do they not like each other?" I was seven. Elias was eleven, but he was already acting like a miniature adult. He kept a straight face, thought about it for a long time, and then handed me a piece of candy. "From now on, I'll only play with you." I didn't fully grasp what that meant back then. Which led to my brain short-circuiting years later, when we were older, and I ended up asking him a similar question again. By then, he had graduated college and officially taken over his family’s empire. He was so busy he barely had time to eat. It was the week before my sophomore year of college started. He came home incredibly late that night because of work. We had barely seen each other the entire summer. That night, like an idiot, I asked him that question again. Except this time, he didn't give me candy. I remember it vividly. He took off his suit jacket, cupped my face with both hands, and his eyes surged with an intense, raw emotion I couldn't read. Because he had been drinking at a business dinner, the moment he leaned in, I smelled the sharp tang of alcohol mixed with a faint trace of tobacco. I tried to step back, but he locked me in his arms, rendering me completely immobile. His lips brushed against my ear, whispering words that made my face burn. "Tonight, it's just the two of us playing." My brain stalled. Before I could even process what he meant, his lips crashed down on mine, kissing me fiercely. The cool September night breeze should have calmed me down, but the flowers in my heart were already quietly blooming. The intercom announcement on the plane woke me up. I opened my eyes in a daze, realizing I had fallen asleep. I couldn't remember the last time I dreamed about our childhood. As I stepped off the plane, I recalled what happened after that night. Elias and I made our relationship official that very evening. We completely skipped the dating phase. Because the very next afternoon, he drove me straight to City Hall and we signed the marriage license. Then, we casually informed our parents. I complained that he was way too domineering and didn't even give me time to mentally prepare. He just said, "I needed to lock you down early so I wouldn't have to worry. We have the rest of our lives to date." "Scarlett, the second you graduate, we're having a massive wedding." Back then, my eyes and my heart were completely overflowing with happiness. But I forgot that every process has its natural order for a reason. Because we skipped the dating phase... Someone else eventually stepped in to fill that void. 7 After getting off the plane. I was too lazy to run, too tired to plan. I just found a random luxury hotel, checked in, and slept until the world went dark. I was usually a light sleeper in new places, but surprisingly, I slept like the dead. I felt like I had been sleeping for an eternity. In my hazy semi-consciousness, I heard my phone ringing endlessly. I didn't answer it. I just let it ring. Until the battery finally died, and I sank back into a deep slumber. When I opened my eyes again, four days had passed. While I felt well-rested, a lingering sense of dread washed over me. If I had died in this hotel room, no one would have known. My phone was flooded with missed calls and texts. I scrolled through them casually, replying to a few people I actually liked. I also called both my parents back. They had stopped living together years ago, but refused to officially divorce. It wasn't for my sake. The main reason was that the people they dated on the side didn't care about a title; they just wanted a good time. And my parents found the legal paperwork tedious. They figured life is short anyway, and when they die, they'll just be buried in the same family mausoleum. Other than their playboy lifestyles... they were actually decent parents. In the past, I thought I could accept a marriage like theirs. After all, it just meant the love faded, right? At least there was mutual respect. You just close your eyes and get through it. But later, I realized the only reason my parents could maintain that kind of marriage was because there was absolutely no love between them to begin with. Naturally, they didn't care what the other person did. But Elias and I? We had loved each other. We both knew exactly what it looked like when the other person was in love. That was why I couldn't accept a hollow marriage. And that was why he couldn't accept Chloe's "death." After hanging up with my parents, I received two massive wire transfers. Undeniably, even though they didn't love each other, they had always done their best to love me. Among the missed calls, Elias had tried to reach me too. I didn't call back. I chose to pretend I didn't see it. We were divorced. There was nothing left to untangle. After lounging in the hotel for a few more days, it suddenly hit me—I had nowhere to go. I should thank the universe for letting me reincarnate into a wealthy family. Thanks to my parents' money and Elias's protection, I grew up experiencing things most people couldn't even dream of. Before getting married, whenever I had a break from school, I would drag my friends on wild trips all over the world. The vast deserts out west, chasing the Northern Lights in Scandinavia—romantic, childish adventures. Sleeping in tents in the wilderness, staring up at the sparse stars hidden behind the clouds. Back then, I was fearless. I dreamed big, chased hard, and did whatever I wanted the second the thought crossed my mind. But after marriage, my only job was to be the perfect "Mrs. Thorne" who never embarrassed Elias. Now, I was finally free.
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