Chapter 1 At a charity gala, my husband, Arthur Sterling, threw a glass of red wine in my face just to stand up for his female assistant. His eyes were ice-cold: "Stella, what exactly is the point of intentionally bumping into a young girl just to be petty?" "Stop acting like some uncultured shrew who only knows how to pick fights." The moment those words left his mouth, the high-society guests, who thrived on drama, all waited with bated breath for me to lose my mind, flip the table, and burst into hysterical tears. But this time, they were disappointed. I didn't cry, and I didn't make a scene. I merely cast a detached glance at the dark stain on my chest, turned around with perfect poise, and said: "My dress is ruined. I'm going to change." When Arthur stopped me, he didn't hold back his strength. I stumbled, nearly falling over, my wrist instantly swelling into an angry red ring. "Stella, I explicitly warned you not to target her." In the past, when he defended Chloe against me, I would have seen red and desperately tried to explain myself. But right now, my tone was exceptionally calm: "It won't happen again." Arthur turned his head to light a cigarette. The peach-blossom eyes that looked at me held zero trust. After all, just last week, I had smashed half the house after finding a torn pair of sheer pantyhose in his suit jacket pocket. Signaling his bodyguard to bring over the antique crystal heels he had just won at auction, Arthur blew a plume of smoke in my direction: "Go put these on Chloe." Normally, this would be the cue for the bodyguards to casually pull out their stun guns. Waiting to shock me, the soon-to-be-hysterical wife, until I lost control of my bladder like a rabid dog. Yet, defying everyone's expectations, I turned and took the shoebox. Expressionless, I walked back into the banquet hall, dropped to both knees, and helped Chloe change her shoes. And I offered her a blessing: "May you climb higher and higher, from this day forward." Seeing my newfound submissiveness, Arthur laughed, his eyes full of contempt: "Stella, if you had been this obedient and sensible earlier, you wouldn't have had to beg me like a cheap whore just to get me to come home tonight." The moment he finished his sentence, Chloe accidentally knocked over a candle on the table. Seeing the hot wax drip onto the girl's calf, making her eyes tear up in pain, Arthur immediately shoved me aside, completely ignoring the fact that my own dress had caught fire. He dropped to one knee, frantically pouring water over Chloe's leg to cool it down, while desperately barking orders at his subordinates to call 911. When the ambulance arrived, Arthur immediately scooped Chloe up and placed her on the stretcher, demanding they leave instantly. "But sir, the woman behind you has severe burns on her back. With the heat right now, if we don't treat the wounds immediately, I'm afraid..." Arthur cast a disdainful glance my way, completely unconcerned: "She's got thick skin. She loves to exaggerate a little pain into a full-blown tragedy." The paramedics opened their mouths, wanting to say more, but I used the last ounce of my strength to stand up straight. With a numb expression, I closed the ambulance door for Chloe. An hour later, as I walked out of the ER, Arthur's call came through. His tone was harsh and demanding: "Why didn't you go to the family's private hospital?" I ignored his question and simply said: "If you need me to offer a sincere apology to Miss Chloe for what happened tonight, I can record a video right now of me kneeling and kowtowing, saying 'I'm sorry' a thousand times, and then have the PR department blast it all over the internet." On my birthday, Chloe had ruined a painting left by my late mother. It sent me into a blind rage, and I slapped her. In response, Arthur publicly ordered me to slap my own face a hundred times and hand-write a ten-thousand-word apology letter, which he then posted online. Therefore, when it came to apologizing to Chloe, I was already a seasoned professional. I don't know which of my words rubbed him the wrong way, but the other end of the line plunged into an inexplicable silence. Finally, he told me to send my location and wait for him to pick me up. I waited in that freezing hallway for two hours. All I received were three video clips sent by Chloe. In them, she and Arthur were flirting and playing around on the piano I played every single day; embracing and kissing passionately in the pre-marital home I had painstakingly decorated; and right at this very moment, having wild, uninhibited sex on the starlit mountaintop where Arthur and I had first promised ourselves to each other... I forwarded the videos to a lawyer friend, went home alone, closed my eyes, and went to sleep. The next afternoon, a fully satiated Arthur finally returned home. Seeing me sitting on the sofa without making any move to greet him, he proactively walked over and said: "Stella, I originally planned to take you to lunch, but a last-minute emergency meeting came up at the company, so I..." Halfway through his sentence, Arthur suddenly stopped. Chapter 2 I followed his gaze to my hand. Only to realize that the wedding ring I had worn for eight years was no longer on my ring finger. Unbuttoning his dress shirt with one hand, his face darkening as he prepared to speak, he was interrupted when I asked: "Are you free this Friday between 2:00 PM and 3:30 PM?" I had made an appointment at City Hall. If he wasn't busy, we could go straight there and finalize the divorce. "What now? The house has barely been peaceful for a few days, and you're already trying to stir up more dram..." Before he could finish his sneering remark, his phone rang. It was Chloe. The girl whimpered in a delicate, tearful voice, calling herself a super clumsy baby: "Arthur, what do I do? Waaah... I wanted to follow a tutorial and make you this super yummy seafood risotto, but I cough cough cough... I accidentally nicked my pinky finger, and the smoke alarm in the kitchen won't stop blaring~" Hearing this, Arthur immediately furrowed his brow and started heading for the door, his voice laced with gentle concern as he instructed: "Silly kitten, turn off the stove immediately and don't move. Hubby is coming back to save you right now." Married for eight years. Arthur never allowed me to call him "hubby" in front of anyone else. If I ever slipped up, his handsome face would darken, and he would curse me out in public, calling me a brainless pig, worse than an animal. Then, regardless of the occasion, he would abandon me right there and walk away coldly. I used to think he just didn't like the term of endearment. Until the company's annual gala, when Chloe lost a game of Truth or Dare. As the winner, Arthur personally took her phone. In front of the entire company, he smilingly changed her contact name for him from "Big Bad Boss with an Eight-Pack" to "Chloe's Dearest, Strongest Hubby." As my thoughts drifted, my phone rang with a pleasant melody. Putting on his coat and about to step out the door, Arthur seemed to hear me speaking softly to the person on the other end: "Okay, I'll listen to you guys. We'll head out tomorrow." Head out? Head out where? The hand Arthur had on the doorknob tightened abruptly. Since we got married, he and I had been practically inseparable. Even during those two years expanding the business overseas. I stuck to him like glue, abandoning everything I had back home, following him without a second thought. Thinking of this, his anxiety eased. He decisively slammed the door and left. That night, a video of Arthur proposing to Chloe went viral in high-society circles. The giant electronic billboard on the Sterling Group's headquarters simultaneously displayed a sweet photo of the two kissing passionately. Instantly, countless messages flooded my social media accounts. They were all watching the spectacle, waiting for me to act like a clown and clarify that this was all just another AI-generated hoax. I didn't respond to a single one. I methodically packed my bags, then got into bed and went to sleep. As soon as I closed my eyes, my phone on the nightstand lit up silently. It was Arthur. He called twice in a row, both going unanswered. In the early hours of the morning, in the king-sized bed of a presidential suite. Arthur held a hickey-covered Chloe, refreshing my media page for the fifth time. His face was expressionless as he saw it was still the same. No debunking, no updates. The next afternoon at 2:00 PM, Arthur surprisingly came home early. When he saw me standing in front of the fridge, quietly drinking water, that bizarre, frustrating annoyance that had been circling him almost all day inexplicably began to dissipate. Our eyes met, and Arthur smiled, snatching the ice water from my hand and downing it in one gulp: "Stella, I'm giving Chloe a formal wedding ceremony next month. After all, the girl gave her first time to me, I have to take responsibility for her." Chapter 3 I nodded: "Okay, as long as you two are happy." Staring at my completely unfazed profile, Arthur was speechless for a long moment before he continued, his tone turning cold and hard: "Chloe has a kind heart. She's allowing you to attend and accept our first toast." "Of course, if you really don't want to go, I won't force you. After all, no one wants to hear a bitter woman wailing like a banshee on a joyous occasion..." Too lazy to listen to his nonsense, I interrupted him softly: "I will be there." "What?" "I said, I will be there in person to congratulate you both." Even though he got the answer he wanted, there was inexplicably no hint of triumph or joy in Arthur's eyes. I turned to leave, but he abruptly grabbed my shoulder. I blinked, asking him politely and distantly: "Excuse me, was there anything else you needed to instruct me on?" After a long silence, Arthur declared, as if granting a magnanimous favor: "Don't cook tonight. I'm taking you out to eat." I didn't reply, just watched him go upstairs to his room. When the sound of the shower started running in the master bedroom, I grabbed my luggage from the corner and walked out the front door of the villa without hesitation. However, I only made it a few steps before I saw Chloe, her eyes cold. She glanced at my luggage and smirked: "Stella, I was wondering why you've been so quiet and magnanimous lately. Turns out you were hoping this useless 'running away from home' trick would disrupt my Wedding of the Century with Arthur." "It's a shame you don't know, is it? Arthur and I never use protection when we're intimate. He's just waiting for me to get pregnant with a cute little baby so he has a legitimate excuse to kick a boring, washed-up housewife like you out the door." Listening quietly to Chloe's bragging, I walked past her without a word, taking long strides forward. Enraged by my dismissal, Chloe hopped into the sports car Arthur had bought her and slammed the gas pedal to the floor! As the world spun around me, covered in blood from the impact, I heard Arthur's voice: "Stella!" The second before he reached me, Chloe's pitiful, sobbing voice chimed in perfectly on cue: "Arthur, my foot is stuck in the bad car..." Before she even finished her sentence, Arthur had rushed to her side, his eyes full of heartache. He rescued her from the car with the utmost gentleness, holding her as if she were the most precious treasure in the world, and carried her through the villa gates. Two hours later, after finally coaxing Chloe to sleep, Arthur walked barefoot through the entire sprawling estate, but couldn't find a single trace of me. The stars hung low in the night sky. In the airport waiting lounge, my head wrapped in bandages, my phone kept buzzing incessantly for some unknown reason. I ignored it, waiting quietly for the battery to die. The exact moment the phone powered off, the plane I was on slowly ascended into the sky. ... Three days later. A penthouse apartment in the city center. Chloe stood by the infinity pool, looking at Arthur with tears of gratitude in her eyes: "Arthur, are you sure this entire place was prepared just for me?" The extravagantly luxurious decor, the fully staffed team of butlers. Just imagining the beautiful days ahead, Chloe couldn't help but giggle as she nestled into his embrace. Arthur affectionately pinched her nose: "Silly kitten, I promised I would make you the most carefree girl in the world, and I always keep my promises." The warm glow of the sunset bathed the two lovers. Chloe blushed, eagerly standing on her tiptoes to offer a kiss, when his phone suddenly rang. In the past, even if he had the most critical business to attend to, he would have kept his arm around her and answered the call without hesitation. But this time, he gently patted her shoulder, signaling with his eyes for her to go inside first. Chapter 4 The moment Chloe walked away, Arthur eagerly answered the call. He lit a cigarette, holding it between his fingers without taking a drag, and asked the person on the other end, feigning nonchalance: "What did my wife say to you when she saw the jewelry gifts?" The male subordinate on the phone was silent for several long seconds before finally bracing himself to deliver the news: "Mr. Sterling, the housekeeper said the Madam hasn't returned to the villa or the old estate for days. Also, I've checked every hotel owned by the Sterling Group, and there's no record of the Madam checking in anywhere." Hearing this, the cigarette between his fingers trembled almost imperceptibly, yet his expression remained cold and calm: "If that's the case, stop looking for her." He hung up the phone and finished the rest of his cigarette. Arthur opened WeChat and scrolled for a long time before finally finding my name hidden in a forgotten corner. Seeing that the last conversation consisted of two texts from me, timidly asking if he was coming home tonight, a flash of contempt crossed his eyes. He casually issued his final ultimatum to me: [Stella, tomorrow is the day Chloe and I are taking our wedding photos. Considering you've been whining about wanting anniversary photos for years, I'm graciously giving you the chance to make that dream come true.] [If you're still throwing a temper tantrum and refuse to show up, from now on, get as far away from me as possible.] The afternoon following the message, Arthur, dressed impeccably in a suit, sat in the bridal boutique, waiting from broad daylight until sunset. He never saw the slender figure he imagined, pushing open the boutique doors with eyes full of love, throwing herself into his arms like a swallow returning to its nest. When the photographer nervously asked for the ninth time if they could start, Arthur grimly wrapped his arm around the waist of a forcing-a-smile Chloe. He leaned down toward her bright red lips. The second the shutter clicked, Arthur instantly released Chloe, gruffly ordering the staff to turn the photo into a massive portrait and have it nailed to the very center of the villa's living room overnight. Did she really think throwing a tantrum and playing hide-and-seek would stop Chloe from moving in? He couldn't stop the cold sneer echoing in his mind. It seemed he had been far too lenient with me these past few years, making me forget my place in the family hierarchy. On the fourth day the wedding photo hung on the wall, a local courier package was delivered to the Sterling Group headquarters. The male subordinate who retrieved the package was walking so fast he nearly collided with Chloe, who had come to deliver soup, without even slowing down. But the sharp-eyed Chloe reached out and stopped him: "Assistant Liu, is that from Mrs. Sterling for Mr. Sterling? You know Mr. Sterling's rules. He's in a shareholder meeting right now. Even if the sky falls, he is absolutely not to be disturbed. How about this, you give it to me first, and I'll pass it on for you later..." Before Chloe could even touch the corner of the package, the formerly polite colleague recoiled as if she carried the plague: "Miss Chloe, Mr. Sterling specifically instructed that any matters concerning the Madam must be reported to him immediately." With that, ignoring Chloe's ugly, flushed expression, Assistant Liu pushed open the conference room doors. Braving the shocked and confused stares of the executives and shareholders, he respectfully placed the package in front of Arthur and whispered in his ear: "Mr. Sterling, this is from the Madam..." Before he could finish, the normally fiercely professional Arthur abruptly raised his hand, cutting off the department head's presentation. With dark, intense eyes, right in front of everyone, he tore open the heavily taped package with his bare hands. Once he bypassed the packing material, he saw there were only two thin pieces of paper inside. One was a divorce petition. The other was a medical certificate confirming a miscarriage. Divorce? Miscarriage? Arthur looked utterly bewildered. Who was divorcing who? Him and Stella? Why would they get a divorce? And how could Stella possibly have had a miscarriage? Due to the angle, the people in the room couldn't see what was written on the documents Arthur was gripping so tightly. They only saw his chest heaving more and more violently, his face visibly turning a terrifying shade of livid green. In less than half an hour, the news of the CEO inexplicably losing his temper and trashing the main conference room spread like wildfire through thousands of internal company group chats. In his top-floor office, ignoring his torn and bleeding hand, Arthur ground his teeth as he interrogated the woman who had been forcefully "invited" before him: "Where is Stella right now?" As my long-time friend and divorce attorney, Sarah cast a disdainful, sneering look at him: "Does it have anything to do with you, her ex-husband, where she is?" "I am not divorced from her!" Arthur roared, his fury erupting. He stated coldly, word by word: "When she and I got our marriage license, we swore a blood oath. In this lifetime, there will only be widowhood, no divorce. Sarah, before my patience runs out, you better tell me what kind of game she's playing right now." "A game?" Sarah clicked her tongue, her face filled with mockery: "You are truly so pathetic it's laughable. Arthur, you don't still think she's playing hide-and-seek with you, do you? Out of respect for the donations you made to the orphanage back in the day, I'll do you a favor and tell you the truth. Your wife... this time, she really doesn't want you anymore." Hearing this, Arthur's expression strangely calmed down. Stella. A lower-class woman from an orphanage. After all her throwing fits and making a scene, who else could she possibly rely on, other than a husband like him who could provide true wealth and luxury? With that thought, Arthur reverted to his familiar, effortlessly in-control CEO persona. When he casually let Sarah leave, Chloe, who had been by his side witnessing everything, dropped to her knees at his feet, tears welling in her eyes as she looked at him with heartache: "Arthur, it's all my fault. It's because I was too childish, foolishly dreaming of my own fairy-tale wedding, that Mrs. Sterling left in anger. Once you find her and bring her back, I promise I'll personally serve her tea and apologize. I'll beg her to be the bigger person and forgive my ignorance and stubbornness." Chloe had barely squeezed out a few tears before Arthur's hand clamped onto her jaw. Seeing him lean in close, her heart pounded wildly. Blushing furiously, she closed her eyes, puckered her lips slightly, and waited for— "Aghhh!" A sudden, intense pain forced Chloe to snap her eyes open in terror. Her fearful gaze crashed directly into Arthur's cold, pitch-black eyes. Arthur waved her phone in front of her. Smiling, he asked her what the unlock passcode was. "The, the passcode..." Seeing Chloe stammering, unable to string a sentence together. He simply called his men in and ordered them to take her phone straight to the tech department to be unlocked and analyzed. Very quickly, all the data on Chloe's phone was laid bare, fully restored, and delivered to his massive desk. Those explicit, vile sex tapes, the nasty, venomous insults... And finally, the devastating messages where Chloe bragged to her best friend about intentionally hitting me with her car. Not only did she face zero consequences, but she received Arthur's meticulous care and gifts: [You won't believe this, but that old hag Stella is like a cockroach. I'm not even talking about the car crash this time. Two weeks ago, she came to bring lunch for my darling hubby, and I tricked her into that filthy, abandoned elevator shaft and shoved her down. She only miscarried that little bastard inside her; she didn't even die! Ugh, so annoying. Next time, I'm definitely going to hire some professional street thugs to violate and torture her until she's half-dead. Only then will I be satisfied, hehe.] Staring dead at the words "little bastard," Arthur's sharp eyes instantly turned blood-red, like a demon from hell. Terrified by his murderous glare, Chloe clasped her hands together in prayer, crying with red eyes and begging for mercy: "I, I only, only did it because I was so jealous of Stella, jealous that she got to be openly associated with you..." "Arthur, I did all those terrible things because I truly love you too much... Hubby, hubby, you always pampered me the most. Just forgive me this one time, please?" He didn't say yes or no. Arthur ripped away the hands Chloe had used to desperately clutch his shirt hem. Ignoring her bewildered, helpless sobbing, he walked out with urgent strides. From the South Side to the North Side, from the city center to the desolate suburbs, he drove without sleep or rest, visiting every single place he and I had ever been. He searched for four days. Only when he was scruffy and his eyes were completely bloodshot did he shockingly discover that I was no longer in the country. By the time he finally tracked my exact location down to Santorini, Greece, a full month had already passed. The Aegean breeze swept through the street corners. Dressed in white, Arthur stared blankly at me from a distance, completely paralyzed. He was afraid. Afraid that the scene playing out before him was just another false, fleeting illusion from his midnight dreams. It wasn't until he faintly heard my light, cheerful laughter that he finally dared to confirm that the woman in front of him was truly the innocent wife he had almost lost forever. Watching me smile brightly as I casually chatted with the locals, the immense joy in Arthur's heart began to mix uncontrollably with a growing, bitter ache. Without him, I was clearly living an exceptionally comfortable life. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he was like a young man experiencing his first crush. It took every ounce of his courage to take tentative steps toward me. "Stella..." Just as he stopped behind me and parted his lips to speak, a clear, resonant male voice stole my attention first. "Stella, look what I bought you!" A tall, handsome young man with a smile in his eyes playfully dropped a white sun hat onto my head. Then, he naturally leaned down, as if expecting some sort of well-deserved reward. Before I could react, another striking man, looking about seventy percent identical to the first, stepped up right behind him. He reached out with his elegant hands and gently tucked a wind-blown strand of hair behind my ear. Witnessing this, Arthur's heart violently skipped a beat. He was just about to force himself to act normal, grab my shoulder, and pull me into his arms regardless of the consequences. But right as he was about to make his move, he saw a shocking scene that made his eyes nearly pop out of his head— Bathed in the bright sunlight, I actually gave each of those two men a kiss on the cheek. "Stella! What are you doing?!"
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