I found out Arthur Sterling was keeping another woman on the side. I was much calmer than I ever imagined I would be. After tracking down her address, I headed straight for her house, fully intending to lay all my cards on the table. But when I actually stood in her living room, I froze. "This condo cost $1.65 million. Arthur paid for it in full, in cash. The deed is in my name." The woman’s expression was perfectly serene, as if she had been expecting me for a long time. She walked into her bedroom and brought out a marriage certificate, placing it right in front of me. "We got married last month." "So," the woman looked at me, her eyes brimming with sheer contempt, "legally speaking, you’re the dirty little mistress who can't see the light of day." The marriage certificate stung my eyes. It reminded me that Arthur and I had been together for fifteen years. Fifteen years. I never got a marriage certificate, but I did end up with a label: Mistress. ... "Chloe Davis." The woman tapped her manicured acrylic nail against the section of the certificate that bore Arthur’s name, her tone mocking. "You have no right to be here, and you certainly have no authority to strike a pose in front of me. Understood?" She held the marriage certificate like a hard-won trophy. She stood there, looking like a flawless, expensive porcelain doll. I recognized the diamond watch on her wrist. It was the exact one Arthur and I had won at a charity auction last month. It was the one Arthur had told me he was going to give to me as our fifteen-year anniversary gift. But the day before our anniversary... Arthur had come to me in a panic, telling me the watch had been stolen. His eyes were full of guilt—so much guilt that they were red-rimmed and teary as he spoke. "Honey, I promise I’ll give you something even better." He gently rubbed the calluses on my palms, his tears falling out of sheer heartbreak. "I’ve made you suffer so much over the years building this life with me. Once the company's IPO goes through, let's get married, okay?" "Chloe," Arthur had hugged me tightly. "I want to marry you. I want us to have a real family." And I had actually believed him. I thought Arthur and I were finally reaching the finish line. I thought that after all the years of grinding from absolutely nothing to immense wealth, I had handed in a satisfactory answer sheet for my life, and we would just live peacefully from then on. But now. I stared at the crushed diamonds on her watch. They sparkled brilliantly, like tiny, invisible needles piercing straight into my heart. It hurt so much I could barely stand, yet I fought to maintain my dignity. "And so?" I snatched the marriage certificate from her hand. I looked at the bride’s name: Mia Harper. I met her perfectly flawless face and her visibly stunned expression, and I smiled. "Are you trying to tell me that after fifteen years with Arthur, it’s time for me to step down so you can enjoy the high life?" "Mia," I rubbed my thumb over her photo on the document and smirked. "What makes you think I would just hand over the empire I bled to build?" I watched Mia panic. She lunged at me to snatch the certificate back, but I sidestepped her. Losing her balance, she crashed into a display cabinet and let out a sharp scream. "Chloe Davis!" "Are you insane?!" Mia finally ripped off her elegant mask and screamed at me. "Are you trying to ruin my relationship with Arthur?! Are you going to be a shameless homewrecker?!" "Chloe!" "Have you no shame?!" Before Mia could lunge at me for a physical fight... I calmly pulled out my phone, snapped a crystal-clear photo of the marriage certificate, and immediately texted it to Arthur. "Arthur." "I heard you got married." "Why wasn't I invited to the reception?" "Chloe!" "Honey!" The call connected instantly. Arthur's frantic voice echoed through the living room. "I can explain!" "It's all a massive misunderstanding!" "Chloe!" I heard a commotion on Arthur's end, followed by the sound of a car door slamming. "I'm coming over right now." "Don't do anything rash." "Just wait until I get there, we'll talk!" While Arthur was still rambling... Mia, consumed by rage, screamed into the phone like a lunatic. "Arthur Sterling! Whose husband are you?! Who the hell are you protecting?!" Mia's hysterical screams bounced off the walls. I took another look around the condo. The decor was warm and luxurious—pale blue silk drapes, a cream-colored cloud sofa, an entire wall dedicated to designer blind-box figurines. There were even cute couple's magnets on the smart fridge. The plush pink cartoon slippers by the shoe rack perfectly matched the blue ones on Mia's feet. Even the pristine white walls were covered in framed photos of Mia, mixed with several shots of Arthur's back. It was obvious. Whoever decorated this place poured their entire heart into it. A $1.65 million condo. Paid in cash. In Mia's name. Mia's watch. $3 million. That was supposed to be my anniversary gift. Plus the authentic silk pajama set she was wearing, the expensive custom manicure on her pristine hands, and the artisanal tea set resting on the coffee table, the premium tea leaves... not a single thing in this room was cheap. Every single item. Reeked of elite wealth. Every single item. I looked down at my own hands, staring at my palms, rough with calluses from years of hard labor. I looked at my outfit—my clothes and shoes combined cost less than a hundred dollars. Suddenly, I found it all incredibly hilarious. So hilarious that I actually laughed out loud. "Arthur." I cut him off mid-sentence. "Since you're already married," I took one last glance at the certificate clutched in Mia's hands: "Then we have absolutely nothing left to talk about." I didn't wait for Arthur. I didn't need to hear his explanations. All I knew was that the fifteen years of blood, sweat, and tears I had given him were reduced to a monumental joke. And Arthur was the one who made me the biggest clown in it. I was sitting in my friend’s law firm, dropping the photo of the marriage certificate on his desk and relaying everything I had just witnessed. Then, I asked him one question. "In a situation like this." "What are my odds?" My voice was terrifyingly calm, as if discussing the weather. "Arthur and I built the company from scratch. Our equity is split down the middle. All our assets are shared and transparent. But Mia is the wildcard." I tapped my knuckles against the mahogany desk, thinking of the $3 million watch and the $1.65 million condo. "I refuse to let anyone off easy." "Stepping on my flesh and blood to sit back and enjoy the spoils? There is no such thing as a free lunch in this world, and I refuse to accept that logic!" I looked my friend, Liam, dead in the eye. "I want them to pay." "But," Liam sighed, fighting his own anger to maintain his professional stance: "Your company is at a critical stage for the IPO. If a massive scandal breaks now—" "I don't care." "Then that's all I need to hear!" Liam patted his chest confidently. "I will fight this for you until the bitter end." Walking out of the bank, I sat in my car, staring at dozens of pages of bank statements. The amounts Arthur had transferred to Mia ranged from tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of dollars. Next to every single transaction was a memo: [Voluntary Gift]. It felt like my chest was caving in. A suffocating grip seized my throat, and my eyes burned with hot tears. I remembered a time when I had envied other women for dressing up. Wanting to feel like a normal girl, I had booked a salon appointment, gotten my hair done, and gone home, purposely strutting in front of Arthur, waiting for him to compliment my effort to look nice. Instead... Arthur had met my hopeful gaze with a chilling coldness. "Chloe." "I know our lives are getting a little better now," Arthur grabbed my hands, shaking his head in disapproval. "But the scariest thing a person can do is forget their roots." "We can't just start throwing money away just because we have a little extra, right?" "What if times get tough again? How will you cope?" "Honey," Arthur had pulled me into his arms. "I prefer you when you're simple and unadorned." My heart full of hope shattered into bubbles. Arthur's words were like a bucket of ice water over my head. I froze, forgetting to even react, as I watched him ruthlessly smash my only bottle of perfume against the floor. "Flashy, useless things. What's the point?" Yeah. Flashy, useless things. What's the point? Yet, Mia was draped in those flashy, useless things, dressed up like a perfect porcelain doll from an entirely different universe. The cruelest irony was that every single cent used to dress Mia up was paid for by the blood and sweat I had shed over the years. Why should she get it? The tears fell despite my best efforts. I wiped them away aggressively, staring at Arthur's relentless incoming calls, and finally swiped to answer. "Chloe?!" "You finally picked up!" "Thank God!" Arthur's frantic voice blasted through the speaker. "I've been looking everywhere for you! Where are you? Whatever it is, let's talk face-to-face, okay?!" "Chloe, we've been together for fifteen years!" "Not fifteen days! You can't just hide from me—" "Arthur." I forced down the lump of acid in my throat, keeping my voice level. "Let's meet." I gave him the location. "At the old Northside apartment. We'll meet there." There was a clear pause on his end. Silence for a few seconds. "Okay." "Honey, I'm heading there right now." Arthur sounded relieved, almost thrilled. "I'll stop by and grab those soup dumplings you love so much and bring them over!" Before I could decline. Arthur had hung up. I turned to meet Liam's worried gaze. "I'm fine." I forced a smile. "Don't worry." It had been almost five years since Arthur and I moved out of that old Northside apartment. Staring at the chipped, peeling paint on the front door, I remembered how we had poured our hearts into decorating this place after finally upgrading from a windowless basement. Arthur had said back then. "Honey, this is our very first real apartment. It means everything!" "When we get old, if you want, we can retire here!" "Let's come back and stay here for a few days every year, okay?" Back then, my heart was so full of joy. I thought my life was perfectly complete. Now, only a few years later. Everything had changed. I pushed the door open. Arthur jumped up from the sofa. "Honey!" Looking like a child seeking praise, he held up the bag of hot soup dumplings and offered them to me. "They're still warm." In the past, I used to say how much I loved these dumplings, and how I loved that Arthur would wake up before dawn to wait in line for them. Later on, whenever I mentioned the dumplings... Arthur only had dismissive excuses. "Chloe." "Time is money. Do you really think I have the luxury of standing in an hour-long line just to buy you breakfast?" Now, the dumplings were right in front of me again, but somehow, they completely lost their appeal. "Arthur." I ignored his desperate fawning, walked past him, and sat on the old couch. The worn-out springs groaned under my weight—nothing compared to Mia's cloud sofa. "Do you remember this couch?" I looked up at him. "You and I went to the flea market and hunted for two days to find it." "Because we were too cheap to pay for delivery," I recounted the memory like it was just a mundane Tuesday: "You borrowed a flatbed cart, and I held the armrest to keep it steady. In the middle of summer, in hundred-degree heat." "We walked for two and a half hours to drag it home." "Back then, you said even if we became billionaires, we would never replace this couch." "Because it was the ultimate proof of our love." Arthur's eyes darted around, unable to meet my gaze. I casually picked up the TV remote from the coffee table. It was wrapped in a layer of duct tape. Arthur had drunkenly dropped it once and shattered the back; I couldn't bear to spend money on a new one, so I taped it together. I rubbed my thumb over the duct tape. "But the truth is, people change, and everything fades, doesn't it?" "No!" Arthur rushed forward, dropping to his knees. "That's not how it is!" His eyes turned red. Just like always, whenever he was desperate, he would cry. "Mia was just an accident!" "I don't love her!" "I swear to God!" Arthur knelt before me, reaching out to grab my hands, but I shifted sideways to dodge him. I watched the flash of hurt in his eyes as he continued. "There was a business dinner, I drank too much, and I have no idea how Mia ended up in my hotel room." "When I woke up, I was terrified! I'm not lying to you!" Arthur's tears spilled over. "I was so scared you'd find out, that you'd break up with me, that you'd hate me! I didn't know how to face you!" "So I—" "How long?" "What?" "How long," my voice remained chillingly flat, "have you been with Mia?" Arthur suddenly fell dead silent. He stared into my eyes for a long time before choking out the words. "Three and a half years." I remembered Arthur promising we would come back and stay here for a few days every year. But as time went on, Arthur was always "too busy." Turns out, he wasn't too busy. He was just spending all his free time on someone else. A sharp, stabbing pain twisted in my chest. Then, Arthur offered his ultimate defense. "I wanted to break up with her! But she clung to me." "She cried about how poor her family was, how her parents favored her sister... I just felt sorry for her..." Arthur's voice trailed off. He lacked the courage to say the final sentence out loud. "And." "She's pregnant." It felt like a bomb detonated right next to my ear. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. Even though I had already deduced the truth before I got here, hearing it from his mouth still sent ice-cold chills down my spine. While I was eagerly waiting for our wedding... Arthur had already given someone else his name, turning me into the outsider. And now, I had to listen to Arthur say: "I thought... since you're getting older, IVF would take a toll on your body..." Getting older. Take a toll on my body. What an absolute joke. "So," Arthur looked up at me, "I figured letting someone else have the baby was actually for your own good." For my own good. My nails pierced my skin, but I couldn't feel the pain. "As long as you forgive me! I'll agree to anything you want!" "Really?" I forced down the volcanic rage boiling in my chest and locked eyes with him. "Really!" I suddenly smiled. I stood up from the creaky couch, walked over to the front door, and pulled it wide open. I stared at the person standing outside, my smile growing even wider. "So, did you catch all that?" "Who's the mistress now?" I looked at Mia's horrified face, then pulled out my phone, which was on an active video call with Liam. "Don't bother editing this video. Send it directly to the media, word for word!" "I don't care how much money you have to burn, I want this to be the biggest scandal of the year!" Before I could finish. Someone grabbed my wrist and yanked me backward. I met Arthur's furious, panic-stricken eyes and laughed. "Arthur." "You made your bed." "Did you really think you could walk away clean?" "How do you like these consequences?"
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