When the gunshot rang out, I finally realized that the man I deeply loved was the male lead in a trashy romance novel. The male lead is destined to love the heroine. So, where does that leave me, the faceless ex-wife? So this time, I'll be the one to ask for a divorce. Any reason will do. He doesn't care anyway. Let’s go with... I fell for a younger man. But the man just smiled arrogantly: "Go cut ties with him. I can forgive you once." 1 Chloe was filming an underwater scene today. Her ink-black hair swirled in the water, and her delicate face looked even more translucent and pale from being submerged repeatedly. So this is the woman Adrian loved to the point of madness? It’s not surprising. She is truly beautiful. Mark, Adrian's assistant, walked over. "Mrs. Vance, should I arrange for you two to have lunch?" I shook my head. "Don't reveal my presence." "Yes," Mark said. "She thinks she was selected purely based on her audition. Mrs. Vance, how should I arrange her schedule next?" "Adrian recently invested in a film project. Take her there." Mark was clearly taken aback. "Mrs. Vance, you might not know this. Ms. Chloe has only been filming for a week, and already four actors on set are fighting to confess their feelings to her. People are literally fighting over who gets to buy her breakfast. Are you... really comfortable putting her next to Mr. Vance?" Mark looked genuinely confused. After all, when Adrian had merely selected an unmarried female secretary in the past, I had thrown a massive fit in his office. Doing something like this now seemed completely out of character for a jealous woman like me. I said calmly, "Isn't it normal for the heroine to be loved?" Mark looked blank, as if he wanted to ask more. I lowered my voice, reached out, and patted his shoulder. "This is a matter of life and death. I’m entrusting it to you. Please make sure Adrian sees her soon." 2 After I said goodbye, Mark still stood there, motionless. I sighed inwardly. Mark was afraid of offending Adrian by acting on his own. In my previous life, Adrian fell in love with Chloe at first sight at a charity gala. He pursued her aggressively, but she rejected him repeatedly. It was Mark who eventually played matchmaker, bringing them together. I understood why Adrian would fall for Chloe, but what I didn't understand was—Mark was supposed to be my person. Why did he side with Adrian when our marriage fell apart? Lost in thought, I drove to the house Adrian and I shared. The white detached villa faced south, filled with light. In front of the house, a large field of pink and white roses bloomed. Adrian had planted them himself before we got married. I had always thought they were a symbol of our love and cherished them more than anyone. Now, after staring at them for a moment, I instructed the gardener: "Dig up all these flowers." When I walked inside, Adrian was sitting on the living room sofa. Even though I had mentally prepared myself, seeing Adrian again still made me dizzy. In my memory, the last time we met was at his wedding to Chloe. Even though it was a second marriage, the ceremony was magnificent, dazzling, and extravagant. Watching from the audience, the darkness in my heart grew uncontrollably. Before I knew it, I had grabbed a steak knife from the table and rushed toward them as they embraced happily. The moment the bodyguard’s bullet hit me and my consciousness faded, I realized— This world was a melodramatic romance novel about a wealthy CEO’s obsessive love. My husband, Adrian Vance, was the male lead. And I was just Adrian’s faceless ex-wife, a nameless supporting character. My only role was to haunt the main couple, creating misunderstandings and conflicts. A literal cannon fodder. After mocking my past life’s definition, I prepared to go back to my room. As I tried to pass by, Adrian turned around. He seemed to have just showered, his body still damp. Water droplets slid down his neck, over his chest muscles, down his lean waist, and disappeared into the shadows of his bathrobe. I tried to walk past without looking up, but I tripped. Just as I was about to fall, a faint scent of men’s cologne wafted over. Adrian’s strong arm steadied me. He looked down lazily, his tone indifferent: "Throwing yourself into my arms the moment you get home?" 3 I pushed Adrian away hard and stood up straight. He scoffed, picked up a wet wipe from the coffee table, and slowly cleaned his hands. "Mark already called me." My heart skipped a beat. I didn't expect Mark to confer with Adrian so quickly. It seemed... their relationship ran deeper than I thought. "Mrs. Vance," Adrian stared at me, his dark eyes devoid of warmth, his tone mocking, "Go ahead. How are you planning to pick a fight with me this time?" "Just recommending a newcomer with potential," I pulled my coat tighter. "Don't overthink it." Adrian said sarcastically, "Then I should thank you for your generosity." I looked at him. "Ms. Chloe is beautiful. She evokes pity." "So what?" He was dismissive. "Are there few vases in this industry?" I fell silent. I hadn't expected that delivering the heroine to Adrian myself would trigger his rebellious streak. But once he sees her, he'll eat his words. Adrian clearly lost patience, looking down at me condescendingly. "Stop doing unnecessary things. I promised Mother that the position of Mrs. Vance would always be yours. As for anything else, stop daydreaming." ... I listened to these words numbly. Adrian was as harsh as ever. In the past, I would have eagerly expressed my loyalty and love, hoping to move this arrogant man. But now, I just lowered my eyes and nodded in agreement. "I understand. You didn't marry me willingly; you were forced by your family. If you fall in love with someone else, I won't pester you anymore." Adrian remained expressionless. "Nice words. Can you actually do it?" He didn't believe me at all. I suppressed my displeasure and was about to retort when Adrian extended his hand. A silver key lay quietly in his palm. 4 I had studied painting since I was a child. The attic on the top floor of our new house was my private studio. In many lonely nights, I would sit in the studio, sketching Adrian’s features stroke by stroke. I never showed them to anyone, and the studio door was usually locked. I didn't know Adrian had been inside. Heat rushed to my face, and I snatched the key back. "Who let you in?" Adrian countered, "Did you get my permission to draw me? I walked in and saw my face everywhere. It was disgusting!" I clenched the key, my heart turning cold. "Enough, Adrian. I was confused before, but now I see clearly." I took a document out of my bag and handed it to him. "What is this?" "Something you've always wanted," I said. A divorce agreement. This was the first gift I decided to give him—and myself—after waking up.
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