The Holt family's monthly dinner was a private affair. No outsiders allowed. Yet Ethan’s young secretary, Hope, was always the exception. I’d tolerated her presence before, when she was just a quiet shadow in the background. But tonight, my own son, Leo, handed her the menu and asked her to order. In that instant, everything felt… pointless. When we got home, I slapped the divorce papers on the table in front of Ethan. He gripped the edge of the paper, a cold sneer on his face. “All this because Hope ordered a dish? Are you serious?” “I’m serious. Sign it.” 1. “Leah, if you’re determined to make a scene, can we at least talk about the timing? I have to work late. Can’t you wait until I get back tomorrow to fight with me? I’m exhausted tonight.” Ethan sank into the sofa, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. Hope stood by the door, clutching a folder, her expression a careful mask of professional neutrality. Outside, the low rumble of the Maybach’s engine was a constant hum. The house staff moved silently, cleaning, their eyes fixed on their tasks. Everything was in its proper place, running like a well-oiled machine. The only thing out of place was me, standing before Ethan, coiled and ready to strike. After a long silence, he finally opened his eyes and looked at me. “Just let it go for tonight, Leah. Please.” The moment the words left his mouth, I heard a soft, contemptuous scoff from somewhere in the villa. I knew it was one of the maids, looking down on me. I had a history of picking fights over trivial things, desperate for any proof that I mattered to him. Now, his weary concession just made me look like a shrew. A fire ignited in my chest. I grabbed the spare copy of the divorce agreement and threw it down in front of him again. “No. Sign it. Now.” Ethan’s eyes met mine, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths—frustration, fatigue, as if my relentless pressure was wearing him down to nothing. “Leah, if you’re angry about the ordering, I can promise you it will never happen again. And as for Leo hurting your feelings, I’ll have him apologize to you the second he wakes up tomorrow. I’ll drag him to you myself. Will that be enough to satisfy you?” Ethan never compromised. But after a quick, subtle glance from Hope, his tone had softened. A bitter laugh escaped my lips, a wave of desolation washing over me. The proud, untouchable Ethan Holt was taking cues from his secretary. We were supposed to be the perfect match—childhood sweethearts from families of equal standing. I had wanted to marry him, but his heart belonged to someone else. In the end, he couldn't fight his family's demands and married me. His first love left for America, heartbroken. Then fate dealt me another blow. Shortly after our wedding, my parents died, leaving me an orphan. The Holts’ grand plan of merging our families to dominate the city’s business landscape collapsed before it ever began. And for that, they resented me. I wasn't even allowed at their monthly family dinners until I was pregnant with Leo in our third year of marriage. And even then, with a child growing inside me, I was expected to serve the entire Holt clan like a maid. But I loved Ethan, so I endured it. I swallowed my pride and accepted it all. Things only improved slightly after Leo was born. But as my son grew, he absorbed their attitude towards me. He was never close to me. And tonight, at the family dinner, he had personally handed the menu to another woman. A woman who coveted his mother’s place. I could never forget the time I was suffering from morning sickness and asked Ethan to order me something simple. The Holts had ridiculed me, their insults escalating until they were attacking my upbringing, calling me uncultured. Ethan saw it all but said nothing, just telling me to bear with it. When I tried to defend myself, he joined them, criticizing my every move. I’ve drafted and redrafted these divorce papers more times than I can count. Each disappointment was a drop in the bucket, and tonight, the bucket finally overflowed. I uncapped the pen, signed my name at the bottom, and shoved it into Ethan’s hand. “Enough talk. Sign it.” 2. His knuckles were white around the pen, as if he wanted to snap it in two. The fire in his eyes blazed hotter. “Leah, there’s a line you don’t cross. Pushing too hard always backfires. Do I really need to teach you that?” With a surge of anger, he hurled the pen. It smashed against the wall, shattering into pieces and splattering ink across the pristine paint. Hope cried out, dropping her files and covering her head. A tremor went through my own body. The temperature in the living room seemed to plummet. Shaken, Hope gathered the broken pieces of the pen and went to Ethan’s side. She placed a hand on his shoulder, patting it gently. “Ethan, don’t be angry. It’s not good for you. Just talk to Leah.” Her soft, gentle voice seemed to instantly calm him. Before he could speak again, Leo came pattering down the stairs, barefoot and anxious. The nanny followed close behind, holding his dinosaur slippers. “Young Master, please put on your shoes. If you get sick, your mother will worry.” I watched as Leo ran right past me and straight to Hope. He circled her, checking her from head to toe before letting out a sigh of relief. “Auntie Hope, don’t be scared. I’ll protect you from now on. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Hope smiled warmly and ruffled his soft hair. “Okay, Leo. But shouldn’t you put your slippers on first? Your mommy will be worried if you get sick. Nanny, could you give me the slippers?” Only then did Leo’s gaze shift to me, his lip curling in disdain. The nanny stood awkwardly to the side, unsure how to act without offending someone. “I’ll take them,” I said, taking the slippers and crouching down in front of Leo. “Put on your shoes.” Instead, he started grabbing things off the coffee table and throwing them at me. “I don’t want you to do it!” The ashtray struck my forehead. Blood started to flow, warm and sticky. Hope rushed to find the first-aid kit, but Ethan just watched me with cold eyes. “Are you satisfied now that you’ve caused all this chaos?” He still thought I was just making a scene. And why wouldn’t he? They looked like the perfect family of three. I was the intruder. Eight years of my life, all for nothing. I calmly picked up the things he’d thrown and placed them back on the table. Ethan watched me in silence for a long time. Perhaps seeing me so defeated stirred some flicker of pity in him. He came over and tried to pull me up. “Leave it. The maids will clean it up. Just stop causing trouble.” I sat on the sofa and pushed the divorce agreement towards him again. “Can you sign it now?” “Leah!” Ethan’s voice was a raw cry of fury. He shot to his feet, glaring down at me. “You just won’t quit, will you? Fine! You want a divorce? You can forget about getting custody of Leo!” I almost died from blood loss giving birth to Leo five years ago. That’s why, no matter how cold he was to me, I poured all my love into him. When he was sick, I’d stay up all night, watching over him. Ethan knew how much Leo meant to me. He thought he could use him to control me. He was wrong. The moment Leo chose Hope, I had already let him go. “I relinquish my rights to custody. I’ll leave behind my dowry jewelry as his child support. You can rest assured, the moment this agreement is effective, I will disappear from Leo’s world completely and never return.” A dead silence fell over the room. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Leo scowled at me and shouted, “Good! I was sick of you being my mom anyway! I want Auntie Hope to be my mom!” He was only five. He couldn't possibly understand the devastating power of those words. A dull ache spread through my chest. I doubled over, covering my face, forcing myself to swallow the grief. Ethan didn’t correct him. Instead, he turned his rage on me. “What the hell do you want, Leah? Are you happy now that you’ve torn this family apart, turning mother and son into enemies?” He swept the already cracked ashtray off the table again. After the loud crash, Leo burst into tears. He threw himself into Hope’s arms, sobbing. “Auntie Hope, I’m scared. Can you make Daddy stop being angry? He always listens to you…” Hope gently patted his back, soothing him. “Ethan, you promised me you wouldn’t get angry again. Please, just talk to her nicely.” Then she turned to me, her expression apologetic. “Ma’am, please don’t mind him. Mr. Holt is just upset. Tonight’s dinner was my fault. I shouldn’t have ordered anything. I promise I won’t attend any more of the Holt family dinners. Please, don’t fight with him anymore.” Her eyes were glistening with tears, her face a perfect portrait of someone trying to keep the peace. It made me want to vomit. My gaze shifted to Ethan. Though his anger was still simmering, he had indeed fallen silent. I suddenly started to laugh, a broken sound that was so close to a sob. “Miss Shaw, on what grounds, exactly, are you playing peacemaker between my husband and me?” “Ma’am, I—I—you’ve misunderstood! Mr. Holt and I are just colleagues! Please don’t be angry. If you don’t like me, I’ll leave the Holt family right now. I’ll quit the company. As long as you and Mr. Holt can be happy…” Ethan stared at her, his fists clenched. I saw the concern blazing in his eyes, so obvious he might as well have shouted it. I spoke deliberately. “You should know, Miss Shaw, that Ethan treats you as someone special. But if I don’t willingly give up my position as Mrs. Holt, you will never have it. If you keep interfering, I might just decide to stay. Are you sure that’s the outcome you want?” 3. In the end, amidst Hope's choked sobs, Ethan signed the papers. I immediately called my lawyer to handle the rest. Ethan watched me, his face a cold, hard mask, as I made the arrangements. When I hung up, he couldn’t resist a final, cutting remark. “Remember this, Leah. You brought all of this on yourself today. And since I’ve signed, there’s no turning back. We have a prenup. Don’t even think about getting a single penny from me.” I carefully folded the agreement and nodded. “I understand.” Then I stood up. “If there’s nothing else, I’m going to go pack.” My calm, almost gentle response seemed to smother his blazing anger, leaving it trapped and festering inside him. I knew the feeling. It was like having a ball of cotton stuck in your chest—suffocating, unbearable. For eight years, that was how he’d handled every conflict between us: with cold, silent withdrawal. As Ethan stewed, Hope cautiously approached and put a supportive hand on his arm. I pulled my gaze away and looked at Leo, his face streaked with tears. After a moment’s thought, I spoke to him. “I won’t be picking you up from school anymore. And I won’t be there to watch over you when you’re sick. You’re five years old now. It’s time you learned to tell the good people from the bad. Don’t go off with strangers just because they offer you a lollipop.” Six months ago, Ethan had an unexpected business trip and asked me to bring his luggage to the office. I’d been late once before and been harshly reprimanded for my poor choice of outfits, so the call immediately put me on edge. I carefully selected several outfits I knew he’d like and rushed them to his office as fast as I could. Because of that, I was late picking up Leo from kindergarten. He had wandered out of the school by himself and was found roaming the streets. A stranger offered him a lollipop, and he got into their car. Luckily, the person was just trying to take him to the police station. But in the time he was missing, I was frantic, searching for him like a madwoman. The Holts dispatched a legion of bodyguards. Ethan even canceled his trip and sped back from the airport. In the aftermath, I became the villain. Regardless of the facts, the entire Holt family directed their fury at me. I could have endured it—I was, after all, their designated punching bag. But from that day on, Leo began to treat me like an enemy. And that was when the last thread of my affection for him finally began to fray. “Leah, Leo is the future heir of the Holt Corporation. We don’t need an outsider like you worrying about him,” Ethan spat. “Or are you just saying all this because you’re hoping I’ll ask you to stay?” I just smiled and walked towards the bedroom without another word. I never thought that after eight years as a full-time housewife, something as simple as packing a suitcase would feel so foreign. I looked around the bedroom, at all the little touches I had personally added, and suddenly, it all seemed so dull. In the end, I only took a photo album from my vanity and two keys. Ethan was standing in the doorway, his eyes boring into me. As I walked past him, I said calmly, “Have the maids throw all my things out tomorrow.” “Don’t you dare regret this, Leah!” he roared at my back. I didn’t break my stride. I just kept walking, away from that cold, gilded cage. 4. A large part of why I loved Ethan so fiercely for so long was because he was once a beacon of light in my darkest, most insecure years. During puberty, my face was covered in acne. My parents took me to every doctor imaginable, but nothing stopped the relentless breakouts. I was already self-conscious, and the constant mockery from my classmates sent me spiraling toward depression. Ethan and I were in the same grade, but different classes. After every period, he would come to my classroom, a silent protector. If anyone dared to bully me, he’d roll up his sleeves and start a fight. He got into a lot of trouble for fighting those two years, but he never cared. He’d just clap me on the shoulder and say, “You’re my girl, Leah. I’m the only one who gets to tease you. If anyone else tries, I’ll beat them into submission.” The sound of a car horn behind me snapped me back to the present. I instinctively turned. Hope was getting out of the back of the Maybach, hurrying to catch up with me. “Ma’a—Leah. Ethan has to get back to the office for a meeting. Where are you headed? We can give you a ride.” I glanced toward the car. Ethan had rolled down the window, and our eyes met. After a moment of silence, he spoke, his lips a thin line. “Get in.” As it happened, my car was in the shop for maintenance. And while the garage was filled with luxury cars, none of them were mine. Our marital home was in the suburbs, and the only way back to the city was along a long, winding mountain road. Without much thought, I turned to get into the front passenger seat. But Hope was faster, sliding in before I could. She left the entire back seat for me and Ethan. I gave them an address and then fell silent. The atmosphere was frigid. But for the first time in a long time, he sat beside me without pulling out his phone or a file to work. I could feel his gaze on me, again and again. It wasn’t like him to hesitate. I let out a small, humorless laugh. Just before the car stopped, I finally broke the silence. “What is it you want to say, Ethan?” His brow was furrowed as he looked at the scabbed-over cut on my forehead. “Leah, if you would just admit you were wrong, I could let you see Leo once a week.” “No, thank you.” The reply was swift. I opened the door and got out. Ethan exploded. “You’re so ungrateful, Leah! The Suttons are all dead and gone! Let’s see how you survive on your own!” My greatest fear was being alone. He always knew exactly where to stick the knife. I slammed the car door and walked away quickly. But Hope chased after me, grabbing my arm. “Leah, Ethan’s just worried about you. That’s why he wanted to give you a ride. He cares about you, he really does…” Before she could finish, Ethan got out of the car, pulled her hand from my arm, and yanked her into his embrace. “Let her go!” “Ethan!” “I said, let her go!” I stood there and watched them struggle, not missing the flicker of triumph under Hope’s panicked facade. A wicked thought sparked in my mind, and I smiled. “Ethan, I’m just curious. Are you so taken with Hope because you’ve genuinely fallen for her, or is it because she’s a dead ringer for your first love, Ava?”
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