1 "Jackson, if you want to divorce Freya, you will forfeit everything—the trust, the shares. You will leave with nothing." "Fine." "You will also relinquish all rights to the child and are never to see them again. Can you accept that?" "I accept." Jackson Vance’s voice was resolute, devoid of emotion. "Mrs. Burrows, the contract has expired. Freya and the boy have someone to look after them now. It's time for me to go." Silence lingered on the other end of the line before Freya’s mother sighed, a long, weary sound. "If you're so determined to leave, then as we agreed, I'll arrange for you to study music at the Vienna Conservatory. The paperwork will take a week." "As for the divorce... you can tell Freya yourself." "Thank you, ma'am." After hanging up, Jackson quietly pulled out a photograph. In the picture, Freya Burrows’s face was alight with a blissful, radiant smile. Their son, Leo, was beside her, waving a toy in a blur of happy motion. The cruel irony was that the man in the photo with them wasn't Jackson. It was Freya's childhood sweetheart, Sebastian Cole. … Sebastian and Freya were heirs to powerful families, inseparable from childhood and each other's first love. But at twenty, Sebastian went abroad for an arranged marriage with another woman. When Freya found out, she nearly lost her mind, spending her days lost in a haze of tears and grief. Desperate to save her daughter, Mrs. Burrows found Jackson, a brilliant Juilliard student in desperate need of money. For half a million dollars, she bought ten years of his life to pull Freya back from the brink. From that day on, a relentless suitor appeared at Freya's side. He was not only strikingly handsome but a gifted musician, full of talent and life. When Freya's spirits fell, he would appear as if from nowhere to play a soothing melody for her. When she was ill, he would keep a sleepless vigil by her bedside, his care absolute. Slowly, she grew accustomed to having this male nurse, this shadow, but she never agreed to his advances. Until one night, at a high-stakes business dinner. A rival heir challenged the table to a drinking contest, with a massive international project on the line. To secure the deal for Freya, Jackson drank himself into the hospital with a bleeding ulcer. That was the first time Freya ever cried for him. "Jackson," she had whispered at his bedside, "I'll marry you. I believe we can make this work..." Only later did Jackson learn that day was also the day of Sebastian's grand wedding, and photos of him kissing his new bride were circulating throughout their entire social circle. The truth didn't break Jackson's spirit. Instead, he fulfilled his contract with even more diligence, marrying into the Burrows family. For eight years, he was a devoted husband. He and Freya had their son, Leo, who took the Burrows family name. Jackson thought their quiet life might last forever, but then Sebastian’s family business collapsed. He divorced his wife and returned home. The day he landed, Freya raced to the airport at a hundred and twenty miles an hour. She threw him the most extravagant welcome-home party and gifted him a million-dollar watch and a luxury sports car. Their old flame was quickly rekindled, their contact becoming more and more frequent. To push Jackson out faster, Sebastian deliberately got close to Leo, poisoning the boy’s mind with whispers about his father. Soon, his once-proud son was affectionately calling another man "Dad." His wife, a woman who had never lifted a finger in the kitchen, began baking Sebastian his favorite pastries from scratch. Jackson understood. There was no place left for him in this home. But none of it mattered anymore. In one week, he would be free from this gilded cage that had held him for a decade. He would finally pursue his own dreams, his music. Jackson drafted the divorce papers and waited quietly for his wife and son to return. Half an hour later, the front door of the villa opened. 2 At the sound, Jackson moved automatically, lining up their slippers by the door and taking their coats, just as he always did. He had timed dinner perfectly, ensuring the food would be hot and ready the moment they walked in. "It's getting cold out. I made some chicken soup. You and Leo should have some while it's warm." "We already ate. I was catching up with Sebastian," Freya said dismissively, her eyes glued to her phone, her thumbs flying across the screen. Beside her, Leo scowled. "Soup again? I told you I wanted fried chicken!" "Leo, fried chicken isn't healthy..." "I don't care! Sebastian bought me fried chicken! You just don't want to make it for me." Leo threw the chopsticks Jackson offered him onto the floor. "No wonder everyone says you're useless! You have no money and no skills! You can't even make fried chicken!" "You're not even half the man Sebastian is! Hmph!" The childish, venomous words were like steel needles piercing Jackson’s heart, a cold sickness spreading through him. He couldn't imagine what poison Sebastian had been feeding the boy to make him so ungrateful. Jackson slowly looked to Freya, but her reaction was even more chilling. "He's just a child, Jackson. Don't take it to heart." She glanced up for a second, her tone flat. "Leo, don't talk to your father like that." "I will!" Leo made a face and ran upstairs. "He doesn't even dare to talk back. He really is a useless loser..." And just like that, everything returned to normal. The vast living room fell into a dead silence, the crystal chandelier hanging precariously above. Jackson sank onto the sofa and sat there for a long time before finally pulling the divorce agreement from beneath the coffee table. Freya was still staring at her phone, but now her frown had smoothed into a look of pure, relaxed contentment. It was obvious she was texting Sebastian. That genuine joy was something he hadn't seen on her face in their entire marriage. Jackson let out a self-mocking laugh and placed the papers on the table. It didn't matter. Once she signed, he and Freya would be finished, completely and utterly free. "Freya," he said, his voice as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "Let's get a divorce. I'll leave with nothing." "Mm-hmm," she grunted, her eyes fixed on the screen. "Leo will stay with you. We'll never see each other again. If that's all good, just sign here." "Okay." He was used to her distracted replies; it was the soundtrack to the last decade of his life. But now, with Sebastian back in the picture, she couldn't even be bothered to pretend. Jackson slid the pen and paper towards her. Without hesitation, she scribbled her name, only to pause at the final stroke. He glanced over and saw her smiling foolishly at her phone. "Freya, did you hear a word I just said?" "Hmm?" She looked up, annoyed, and quickly finished her signature without a second glance at the document. "Isn't it just about that charity event again? From now on, you can just sign for those things yourself." With that, she stood up and went to her room, closing the door firmly behind her. Watching her leave, Jackson's mouth twitched into a bitter line. She hadn't heard him. She hadn't cared at all. Ten years of his life, ten years of devotion, and in the end, it amounted to nothing more than his wife's indifference and his son's contempt. But it was almost over. Just seven more days, and he would be gone for good. His wife, his son, and this thing they called a home. He didn't want any of it anymore. 3 The next morning was cold, the first real bite of autumn in the air. When Jackson woke, Freya's side of the bed was already empty. He fixed himself a quick breakfast and then headed to St. Jude's Hospital. He walked into the patient room, and the elderly woman lying in bed immediately sat up, her wrinkled face breaking into a joyful smile. "Jackson... what are you doing here?" "Director Miller, I came to say goodbye." Jackson handed the old woman an envelope containing the final hundred thousand dollars from his contract payout. "I'm going abroad to study music soon. This is the last of the money for the orphanage." "Oh, you dear boy... more money?" The director was so moved she began to cry. She had found Jackson at five years old and raised him in the orphanage. He had earned a scholarship to Juilliard on his own merit and was on the verge of a brilliant career abroad when a sudden illness left her in desperate need of a half-million-dollar surgery. To repay her kindness, Jackson had sold ten years of his life. The money had paid for her surgery, and the rest had helped rebuild the orphanage. She didn't know how she could ever thank him. "Please, don't worry about it, Director. Once I finish my studies, money won't be an issue anymore." "You're right, of course. Going abroad is a wonderful opportunity. I'm so happy for you." Then, a thought struck her. "But if you go overseas, won't it be difficult to see your wife and son?" "It's better if I don't see them. Less trouble that way," Jackson said with a hollow laugh. "I... I'm divorced." The director stared at him for a moment, then pulled him into a tight embrace, stroking his head. "Good," she murmured. "It's for the best. You've suffered enough all these years. From now on, you have to be good to yourself." "I will be, Director. I promise." … After leaving the hospital, Jackson went back to the villa to pack. He had tied up his last loose end. He could leave the Burrows family with a clear conscience. It only took a few hours to pack up his life. He also boxed up everything related to Freya and Leo. The scarf he had knitted to please her, the baby bottles left over from Leo's infancy... For ten years, he had poured his heart and soul into this family. Even without the contract, he had wanted a warm home to call his own. But it had all been a fantasy. Jackson took one last look at the boxes, then carried them out to the trash cans by the gate. Just then, a Rolls-Royce pulled up to the curb. Leo jumped out of the car first. Seeing Jackson by the trash, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. "What are you doing, digging through the garbage? Have you no shame?" "Is dinner ready yet? I want fried chicken!" Looking at the boy he had raised for six years, Jackson's heart twisted, but the pain was quickly overshadowed by a surge of cold anger. "If you want fried chicken, go ask your Uncle Sebastian." "You..." Leo's face was a mask of shock. It was the first time Jackson had ever spoken to him like that. At that moment, Freya and Sebastian walked up. "Jackson, Sebastian's house is undergoing some renovations. He'll need to stay with us for a few days. I trust that's not a problem?" This was the first time Jackson had seen Sebastian up close. He had a naturally refined, almost delicate beauty that years of marriage hadn't touched. It was no wonder Freya was still so captivated by him. In contrast, Jackson, who had once been just as young and handsome, was now worn down by years of thankless labor. Leo seized the opportunity. "Hurry up and help Uncle Sebastian with his luggage! Didn't you hear me, you bad daddy? If you don't, I won't like you anymore!" Jackson looked from Freya to Sebastian. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice flat. "I just pulled a muscle in my back. I can't lift anything." At his words, a flash of coldness crossed Sebastian's eyes, but he quickly masked it with a look of pained reluctance. "Oh, then... perhaps we should forget it. It seems Mr. Vance isn't too happy about this. My apologies..." He turned as if to leave, but Freya grabbed his arm. "Don't be silly. I'll help you with your bags. You're staying here. He won't have a problem with it." Jackson watched the scene unfold with a quiet, bitter amusement. "That's right," he said. "You can have our room. I won't have a problem with it at all." What did it matter anymore? Judging by Freya's attitude, this house would belong to Sebastian soon enough anyway. 4 Freya immediately rushed to help with the luggage, afraid that if she delayed for even a second, Sebastian would change his mind. Leo, playing the part of the dutiful son, trotted over to grab a smaller bag. The three of them, laughing and talking as they supported each other, looked like a perfect little family returning from vacation. "What are you still standing there for? Go make dinner!" Leo demanded. "I want fried chicken, and Mom and Uncle Sebastian want seafood to... you know, build up their strength." Treating Jackson like a personal chef had become the norm in this house. For years, he had been their live-in butler, catering not only to Freya's demanding palate but also designing perfectly balanced, nutritious meals for Leo. They had never had to lift a finger. This time, however, Jackson’s reply was unexpected. "I can't." Freya stared at him, stunned. In her memory, this was the first time he had ever refused to do something she asked. Before she could react, Sebastian put on a wounded expression. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. I'm just an outsider, after all. I don't deserve to have Mr. Vance cook for me." He picked up his bags, turned around, and put them back in the trunk, slamming it shut. "This has nothing to do with you," Freya snapped, her brow furrowing as she shot Jackson a dark look. "You said you didn't have a problem with this. What game are you playing now?" Jackson's answer was calm. "There's no food in the refrigerator. I can't cook." He was leaving, so he hadn't gone grocery shopping. Besides, he had no intention of cooking for them anyway. It was a convenient excuse. After ten years of swallowing his pride, he refused to back down again. At his words, Leo threw a full-blown tantrum on the lawn. "I knew it! You're the most useless dad in the world! You didn't even buy groceries! Are you trying to starve us? Waaah!" "You're not my dad! I want Sebastian to be my dad!" Seeing this, a flicker of triumph crossed Sebastian’s eyes, quickly replaced by a mask of false sincerity. "Leo, you shouldn't talk to your father like that. It's very rude." "I'm sorry, Uncle Sebastian. I'll be more careful." "Well, since there's no food here," Sebastian said smoothly, "why don't we go to that steakhouse we passed on the way? I'll even order you your own plate of fried chicken." "Yay! Uncle Sebastian, you're the best!" Leo hugged Sebastian's leg, and Freya watched them with a doting smile. The scene was sickeningly sweet. The three of them piled into the back seat of the car, and Freya told Jackson to drive so that Sebastian could rest. The entire way, Sebastian played games and chatted with Freya and Leo in the back, their laughter filling the car. They treated Jackson like he was nothing but air. "Mr. Vance," Sebastian called out, his voice loud enough to make sure he was heard. "Freya and I are just catching up. I hope you don't mind." He added, with deliberate condescension, "We wouldn't want to bore you with things you wouldn't understand." Jackson just grunted, his eyes fixed on the road. He didn't need to know, and he didn't want to know. None of it mattered to him anymore. … Half an hour later, they were seated at a table. Freya took the menu and began ordering for them. "Sebastian likes the filet, medium-rare, and no black pepper..." After a decade, she still remembered Sebastian's every preference. Then, for the first time in ten years, she asked Jackson what he wanted. "Jackson, what cut would you like?" "I don't eat steak," he replied flatly, surprising her. In ten years of marriage, he knew every detail of her life, but this was the first she had ever learned about his. "You guys enjoy your meal. I'm leaving." He had brought them here. He had no desire to stay and be tortured further. None of the three of them tried to stop him. They simply watched in silent agreement as he walked out of the restaurant. A few minutes later, Jackson realized he still had the car keys. He turned around and headed back. He hadn't even reached the door when he heard exclamations from inside. "Isn't that Ms. Burrows? What a beautiful family you have." "And this handsome gentleman must be your husband. No wonder you keep him hidden away; you must be afraid someone will steal him!" 5 Although Sebastian had been abroad for years and was largely forgotten in their social circles, his elegant demeanor and refined speech quickly captured the attention of the gossiping crowd. Everyone was charmed by him. "Ms. Burrows and Mr. Cole are such a perfect couple. How long have you been married? Your son is already so big!" Freya blushed slightly but didn't deny it. Leo, meanwhile, played his part perfectly, calling Sebastian "Dad" over and over again. Watching the scene unfold, Jackson felt a brief stab of pain, but it quickly faded into a calm numbness. What was there to be angry about? He was just a toy Mrs. Burrows had bought to appease her daughter, a tool used to produce a Burrows heir. The contract was ending, the transaction was complete. None of this had anything to do with him anymore. Inside the restaurant, Sebastian caught a glimpse of Jackson through the window. He deliberately speared a piece of steak and held it gently to Freya’s lips. "Freya, thank you so much for helping me move today. You must be exhausted." "It was nothing. Your business is my business," she replied with a small smile, opening her mouth to accept the bite. Sebastian leaned in closer, their faces nearly touching, the gesture charged with intimacy. The onlookers started to cheer. "This is so sweet! Am I watching a romance movie?" "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" Leo joined in with a mischievous grin. "Mom, hurry up and kiss! I can't wait!" "We're in public! Behave yourself!" Freya's cheeks were flushed as she whispered a soft reprimand. This only excited Sebastian more. He cupped the back of her head and pressed his lips to hers. She hesitated for a moment, but as he deepened the kiss, she surrendered, slowly closing her eyes to enjoy it. Watching her feigned shyness from outside, Jackson let out a cold, silent laugh. So, the great ice queen CEO wasn't always so cold and distant. She was just cold and distant to him. He had no desire to be nauseated any further. He handed the keys to a waiter and left without another word. "Ms. Burrows," the waiter said, approaching their table. "A gentleman just dropped off these car keys for you." The two of them were still nestled close together, their faces glowing with happiness. At the waiter's words, Freya's head snapped towards the door. "What? Was Jackson just here?" Seeing her apparent concern, Sebastian felt a prick of annoyance. He feigned surprise. "Oh no, this is bad. We were just joking around. I hope Mr. Vance didn't see and get the wrong idea." "Don't worry about him, Uncle Sebastian," Leo piped up, his mouth full. "He's just our butler." "Besides, you and Mom used to date. What's wrong with a little kiss?" "Leo, don't talk nonsense," Freya said, her expression shifting as she cut her son off. She quickly gathered her purse and rushed outside. On the cold, empty sidewalk, Freya ran to catch up with Jackson just as he was about to hail a cab. 6 The moment their eyes met, she held her breath, bracing herself for an angry tirade. But they stood there in a long, tense silence, his face as calm and still as a stagnant pool of water. "Don't misunderstand what happened back there," she finally said. "Sebastian and I were just joking around. It didn't mean anything." When he still didn't react, a flicker of anger ignited in her. "Are you blaming me? What was I supposed to do with everyone cheering us on?" "I'm not blaming you," he said, his frankness terrifying. "Is there anything else?" Freya shook her head, stunned into silence as she watched him get into a taxi and drive away. For some reason, a strange, unsettling feeling crept into her heart. When had Jackson become so... tolerant? Sebastian had already followed her out. Without another thought, she went back into the restaurant to finish her meal. … Night fell, and the trio returned to the villa, their laughter echoing in the grand foyer. Freya immediately started preparing bedding and toiletries for Sebastian, but having never done a single chore, she had no idea where anything was. Though she felt a pang of guilt, she ended up calling Jackson to do it. Jackson silently retrieved the items, then returned to his study and shut the door. Sebastian clenched the towel in his hand and sighed dramatically. "It seems Mr. Vance is still hostile towards me. Maybe I should just check into a hotel tomorrow." "A hotel isn't as comfortable as a villa," Freya said, her expression complicated. "He's been acting a little strange today. Don't mind him." Leo immediately grabbed Sebastian's hand. "Uncle Sebastian, my dad took the study. You can sleep in the master bedroom with us tonight!" "I don't think that's a good idea..." "Don't be silly, you're our guest! We can't let you sleep on the sofa!" "Alright, then." After Sebastian reluctantly accepted the invitation, Jackson's phone buzzed with a new message less than half an hour later. [Mr. Vance, mind if I borrow your razor?] The message was accompanied by a photo. It showed not only the razor but also Freya and Leo playing a board game with Sebastian on the master bed in the background. [It's used. If you don't mind my germs, go ahead.] Jackson replied without a second thought, then switched his phone to silent and fell into a deep sleep. … Two days flew by. Only four days remained until the divorce was finalized. Jackson had already purchased the instruments he would need for his studies and was practicing in his room. But the constant noise from downstairs was a grating distraction. He went down to find Sebastian and Leo roughhousing. "Uncle Sebastian, I want to play cats and fish! Can you get that fishbowl down for me?" "Hold on," Jackson said, stepping in front of them. "You can't play with the fish. Pick something else." Leo had a history with that fishbowl. Every time, he would torture the small fish until they were half-dead, leaving Jackson to clean up the mess. Jackson had tried many times to teach him to respect life, but his efforts were always met with curses and resentment. He was trying to stop it this time to save the fish he had so carefully raised. "You... you just don't want me to have any fun!" Leo snarled. Sebastian seized the opportunity. "Jackson, how much can a few fish be worth? You shouldn't crush the boy's spirit." "The fish aren't worth much. I'm just trying to teach him to be kind." "And how much is 'kindness' worth?" Sebastian sneered, poking Jackson in the shoulder. "You're so kind, but could you even keep your own wife? Your own family?" Sebastian was a man who never let a slight go. He was still fuming from their confrontation the other night and was eager to humiliate Jackson. "I only protect what's important to me," Jackson said, calmly placing the fishbowl back on its high shelf. "What you're talking about isn't as important as these fish." "Then you can have them." "You...?" Sebastian was flushed with anger. "Talk tough all you want. I don't believe you have no feelings for the woman you've been married to for ten years. If you know what's good for you, you'll get the hell out of here before I make you." This time, Jackson didn't even bother to reply. He simply turned and walked away. A vicious glint appeared in Sebastian's eyes. He lunged forward and snatched the fishbowl from the shelf. Jackson reacted instantly, his hand shooting out to grab the edge of the bowl. As they struggled, the glass slipped from their grasp and crashed to the floor. CRASH! Shards of glass flew everywhere, the sharp edges instantly slicing through their skin. At that exact moment, Freya was coming down the stairs.
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