After the divorce, I left Canaan without looking back.

I went to Dubai alone to start over.

Just as I was making a name for myself in the Middle Eastern arms dealing circle.

News came from Canaan that my ex-husband, Ethan Scott, was getting engaged to his little mistress.

I caressed the bullet hanging around my neck.

Eight years ago in a shootout in the Golden Trigon, he took this bullet for me, and it missed his heart by a hair's breadth.

After it was removed, he personally made it into a chain and put it on me.

He said softly, "From now on, my life is in your hands."

Now, I ripped the necklace off without hesitation and threw it in the trash.

Nothing but a trophy from the gambling halls—that’s what they called me. They swore I’d never be anything without Ethan.

But seven years later, I returned to Canaan to develop a new mining vein.

At the negotiating table, the man who controlled half of the Golden Trigon's empire had his eyes turn red the moment he saw me.

But my mind went back to the day of his father's funeral, seven years ago.

In the memorial hall, he stood side-by-side with his little mistress.

Accepting condolences from everyone as "Mrs. Scott."

It was only then that I realized he and that woman had another home up north.

...

I calmly pushed the divorce papers in front of him.

"Sign it."

Ethan raised an eyebrow.

Underneath the papers was a newspaper.

It reported with great exaggeration how Emilia Lloyd had stolen the show at the funeral, embarrassing the Vabong boss's wife.

"Vivian Everly, how many more times are you going to play these childish games?"

"In eight years, you've thrown a fit about divorce at least a hundred times. Haven't you had enough?"

Ethan's tone was casual as he pulled a black card from his bag and tossed it on the table.

"If it's not enough, get more from Tyler Anderson. The company's busy lately. Call me if you need anything."

I didn't take the card, just glanced coolly at Emilia in his arms.

Now I think I understand why after Emilia returned to Canaan, yet Ethan never gave her his name.

Because the position of the Vabong boss's wife isn't for the one you love, but for the one who is suitable.

"Do you want her to be the other woman forever?"

I pushed the divorce papers forward again.

Emilia pouted, clearly bothered by the term "other woman," and said in a delicate voice:

"Ms. Everly, the one who isn't loved is the real other woman."

Ethan chuckled but didn't say anything.

He reached out and affectionately pinched Emilia's cheek before slowly turning to me:

"We're going to church for morning prayers tomorrow. Don't be late."

I didn't look away until Ethan was out of sight.

Every week, Ethan and I would go praying in church, supposedly to wash away our sins.

Ethan's mother said being barren is a sin.

Ethan said not being generous enough is a sin.

Walking into the church, I knelt before the to pray.

When Ethan came in, I had just drawn the worst possible fortune.

"Vivian."

My heart inexplicably tightened.

"The ritualist said Emilia is chained to an ill fate this year, and to break it... she needs to soak her feet in your father's ashes."

I shot up, meeting his cold eyes in shock, and then I suddenly laughed.

"Ethan, eight years ago I had a dark ritualist read our fortunes. I lied and told you that we were a match made in heaven. The truth is, you were born with a curse that brings harm to your wife and children."

"If you dare touch a single inch of dirt on my father's grave, I'll chop up your father's memorial tablet and burn it for firewood."

For eight years, I cried and threw fits over his women on the side.

I finally understood the brutal reality is that might makes right in the Golden Triangle. No man would respect a woman who only ever gave in.

His expression instantly darkened.

"Do it."

Two words. An order, not a discussion.

"Ethan!"

A few of his men pinned me down.

I watched helplessly as they dug up my dad's grave.

"Vivian, this is for your dad's own good.

His ashes are useless just sitting there. Performing the ritual will help his soul."

"Get away!"

Hearing his ridiculous justification, I screamed, shoved the men aside, and snatched back the urn.

A sharp blow to the back of my head.

Warm blood trickled down my forehead.

The urn was easily snatched away.

I struggled to look up, only to see Ethan's face under the glaring sun, as cold as stone.

"Take it to the ritualist."

I let out a sarcastic laugh, and then I blacked out.

When I woke up again, I was in the hospital.

My trusted subordinate told me that Ethan had been in northern Vabong with Emilia for the past few days.

Not only did he use my father's ashes for a ritual, but he was also trying to turn my dad into an evil ghost to obey Emilia.

I pulled out the IV needle and stormed over there with a team of men I'd trained myself.

Emilia was sitting on the sofa drinking wine, and her face paled when she saw me burst in.

I looked around the luxurious villa, my eyes landing on the new small altar in the corner.

My father's memorial photo was displayed right there!

Rage instantly ignited within me.

"Vivian, you're not welcome here!

If you dare to cause trouble, I'll have Ethan..."

Before she could finish, I grabbed her by the hair and dragged her viciously toward the small altar!

"Looks like you still don't get the situation."

"I'm the one Ethan legally married, and I get half of every cent of profit from his arms business!

If I want, I can make it so you can't stay here anymore!"

My military boot stomped hard on her wrist, grinding it down.

Emilia let out a piercing scream.

"You... you old bitch!

Ethan will never let you get away with this when he finds out!"

I sneered, grabbing her hair and forcing her face to the ground.

"You think you can stay young forever?

Here, youth is the cheapest thing there is."

"Want to use my dad's ashes for a luck-changing ritual?

Just washing your feet isn't enough. Come on, drink all your foot-washing water!"

I had my men hold her down, then picked up the basin of foot-washing water and poured it into her mouth.

For every drop she spilled, I slapped her across the face.

I didn't have them let go until her cheeks were swollen and her mouth was bleeding.

I heard rushed footsteps behind me.

Ethan arrived, radiating a cold fury, followed by his private soldiers armed with live ammunition.

"Vivian, you've crossed the line."

His voice was ice-cold as he bent down to pick up the barely breathing Emilia.

I met his gaze. "Mr. Scott, the feeling is mutual."

The veins on his forehead bulged.

"Throw her into the snake pit on the back hill.

Without my order, no one is to pull her up."

That was the venomous snake pit he had dug just for Emilia.

"Didn't you say you wanted to see a show?

Today, you'll get to see all you want."

he said gently to Emilia in his arms.

Two of his private soldiers roughly dragged me toward the back hill.

In the cold pit, venomous snakes quickly slithered over to bite at my flesh.

Sharp pain shot through me, and blood instantly stained my clothes.

Before I completely blacked out, I heard Emilia's triumphant laughter.

I pulled at the corner of my mouth, forcing a silent, sarcastic smile.

Ethan, eight years ago in Myitkyina, you told me in front of all those warlords that I was the only one you wanted for the rest of your life.

But in this world, a true heart can change in an instant.

...

I spent half a month recovering in the hospital.

During that time, the news of Ethan doting on his mistress and leaving Mrs. Scott to bleed in a snake pit spread throughout the entire Golden Trigon.

The day I was discharged, I fulfilled my promise and smashed up Ethan's father's memorial hall.

After venting my anger, I went to see Ethan's mother.

"Mom."

I walked into the church.

She opened her eyes, her expression complicated.

"Please give these divorce papers to Ethan for me."

I handed her the papers and a newspaper.

"Vivian, all the men here are like this.

Compared to power and money, what is love?"

"Only when you are not controlled by a man have you truly won."

She was as unfazed as when Ethan's father's memorial hall was trashed.

Dealing with Ethan's father's countless mistresses and illegitimate children in her youth had already turned her heart to stone.

"Mom, I married Ethan not because he's a Scott, but because he's Ethan."

Only I know how he captured my heart back then in the fighting pit, covered in blood but with such defiant eyes.

In these eight years, I've used the Scott family's power to build my own network of arms dealers and contacts, and I'm no longer the little girl who once needed his protection.

I only stayed for the sake of feelings that had long since soured.

"If you divorce him, those other women will walk all over you."

"If she can take my place, that's a credit to her."

My tone was flat.

But Emilia couldn't possibly have that kind of skill.

No real arms dealer would marry a woman who has nothing but her looks.

Ethan's mother was silent for a long time, then finally had the maid put away the agreement and the newspaper.

She looked at me for a long while, then sighed. "You have no idea how many women out there envy your position."

I didn't answer. I gave a slight bow and turned to leave.

Everyone envies me for standing at the pinnacle of power in Canaan, but only I know—

My marriage to Ethan was like a poppy field in the Golden Trigon—beautiful on the surface, but rotten to the core.

On my way out, I ran into Ethan's cousin, Sophia Scott.

"I thought you could put up with him forever."

"I used to think so too."

I said lightly.

She pursed her lips. "I admit, I used to not like you, but no matter what, you're still better than that woman from the red-light district in Thailand."

"You've been with him for eight years. Isn't it a waste to leave without getting a big payout?"

I smiled. "If I stay any longer, I'm afraid I won't be alive to spend his money."

Sophia snorted with laughter. "A three-legged frog is hard to find, but there are plenty of two-legged men out there!

Once you're divorced, I'll introduce you to someone. I guarantee he'll be better in every way... better at caring for you than my cousin."

...

In the evening, a maid from Ethan's mother brought over the signed divorce papers.

I had someone take them to be processed immediately, then planned to take a hot bath.

Ethan burst in, reeking of alcohol.

He walked up behind me, placed his hands on either side of the tub, and trapped me in his arms.

"Good evening, Mrs. Scott."

My hand, holding the glass of wine, froze.

It seemed Ethan's mother had pulled some strings to keep him from realizing what he'd signed.

Otherwise, he wouldn't still be calling me Mrs. Scott.

I got up, put on my bathrobe, and calmly pushed past him to walk out.

"Still throwing a fit?

The thing with Emilia is over."

He grabbed me, but I glanced at the obvious lipstick stain on his collar and calmly shook him off.

"I'm not throwing a fit. I just think it's filthy."

"Ethan, your taste is just like the cheap perfume Emilia wears. It's disgusting."

The next day, for the first time, we didn't attend the Naypyidaw jewelry auction together.

When Ethan showed up with Emilia, all eyes were on them.

As soon as I entered, I heard Ethan telling a business partner to call her "sister-in-law."

Someone sharp-eyed spotted me and immediately called out respectfully, "Mrs. Scott."

"Well, if it isn't Mrs. Scott.

Looking a little shabby today, aren't we?"

Emilia said mockingly.

I slowly raised my hand, showing off the diamond ring that symbolized my status as Mrs. Scott:

"What I'm wearing doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm the one everyone recognizes."

"Where there's a first wife, there's a second. My tolerance, of course, can't compare to Ms. Lloyd's, who's willing to be the lesser one."

Just then, the host invited Mr. and Mrs. Scott to the stage for the unveiling.

Ethan extended a hand to me. "Come on. Don't keep the bosses waiting."

He led me onto the stage, his intention clear.

First, to give me a way to save face.

Second, to announce to the world that our marriage was still solid.

The unveiling, the speech—we went through the motions with perfect coordination.

In a daze, the warm yellow light outlined the more mature profile of his face.

It reminds me of eight years ago, when we first took over our first smuggling route, we had each other's backs just like this.

The night we landed our first ten-million-dollar deal, he put this ring on my finger with his own hands on a boat on the Mekong River.

I smiled and congratulated him, "Mr. Scott, this journey has been a landscape of blood and fire."

But in the end, a person's heart is even more fickle than the weather in the Golden Trigon.

I made an excuse to get some air and walked out to the viewing deck.

Emilia followed me out.

"Ms. Everly," she said, her voice provocative.

I turned and looked at her indifferently.

"The night you had your miscarriage four years ago, Ethan lied and said he was in a business meeting. He was actually in my bed."

She was trying to provoke me.

The hand holding my cigarette was steady as a rock.

"I thought you would have learned something by now."

She frowned. "He said he loves me and that sooner or later, he'll divorce you and marry me in a grand wedding!"

I laughed out loud as if I'd heard the biggest joke in the world.

Did he say that in bed? Because the 'love' he's declared to me could probably stretch from Yangon to Myitkyina."

Every woman who comes to me says the same thing. What makes you so special?"

I stubbed out my cigarette, ready to leave.

_As I brushed past her, she suddenly grabbed my wrist.

The first time I entered the Scott family's home, I thought you were so lucky! We come from the same background, so why do you get to be Mrs. Scott?"

I'm younger and prettier. I'm clearly a better asset than you!"

I'm begging you, divorce him. Let him go!"

I frowned, and just as I was about to shake her off, a deafening crash echoed from downstairs!

The building shook violently, and the railing of the viewing deck made a cracking sound.

When Ethan rushed up with his men, the viewing deck had already split, leaving Emilia and me teetering on opposite sides.

Boss! It won't hold for long! We have to save one of them first!" one of his men shouted anxiously.

A second collapse could happen at any moment. The one left behind would have almost no chance of survival.

Emilia was sobbing hysterically, while my face was pale.

Ethan, the day I had my miscarriage, you swore you would never betray me again."

This was my last, and most powerless, bargaining chip.

Ethan's lips were pressed into a tight line, his eyes filled with conflict.

Just then, Emilia screamed, "Ethan! I'm pregnant with your child!"

His pupils contracted. He made his decision almost instantly.

Save Emilia first!"

I watched as they scrambled to pull Emilia to safety.

The stone slab beneath my feet shattered with a roar.

A feeling of weightlessness washed over me as I fell, and I closed my eyes.

Right. It was the two of them against me. How could I compare?

I was lucky. I landed on an awning.

It broke my fall.

After being unconscious for a day and a night, I was found by the search and rescue team.

When I woke up, the news had already exploded.

[Naypyidaw Collapse Suspected to be Work of Competitors; Ethan Flies to Switzerland with Shaken Lover to Recuperate, Possibly for Prenatal Care].

In the photo, he had his arm around Emilia's waist. The departure time was the exact moment I was being rushed into the emergency room.

Just like when I had my miscarriage, lying alone in a hospital bed with no one to check on me.

While Ethan was away, I recovered quietly.

His assistant kept sending things—from fresh orchids flown in from to a top-of-the-line diamond necklace.

I threw them all out.

The day I was discharged from the hospital, I first went to the old house in Taunggyi.

I set everything he had ever given me on fire.

As I walked out of the alley, an SUV with military license plates was parked there.

Ethan had returned at some point.

"Emilia is pregnant."

He got straight to the point, leaning against the hood of the car and lighting a cigar.

"According to our agreement, you get forty percent of the assets, I get sixty."

I said, my face blank.

He squinted, sizing me up. "Mom still only accepts you as her daughter-in-law.

Even if Emilia gets pregnant, she'll never be more important than you."

"I can live without a lover, but not without a wife who can stand by my side."

I understood. He didn't want a divorce, not because he loved me, but because I was still useful to him.

"So?

The one stopping your true love isn't me, it's your mother.

If you have a problem, go talk to her."

I tried to walk around him and leave.

"In three days, Mom wants you back at the family manor. When the baby is born, it will only call you 'Mom'."

I didn't stop walking.

I hitched a ride on a local's truck back to the villa in Yangon.

I checked my account. There were tens of millions of dollars in it, but that was just a drop in the bucket for Ethan's arms empire.

They say men get corrupted by money, and women get money by being corrupt.

If I were ruthless and maintained this sham of a marriage, I could probably enjoy this wealth forever.

But I didn't want to be trapped in this golden cage anymore.

I bought a one-way ticket to Dubai, leaving in three days.

The second the divorce papers came through, I would be gone.

Three days later, the negotiation at the family manor was tense.

The whole conversation was about whether Emilia could use the baby to secure her position.

Ethan's mother was firm. "The child can't be kept. The Scott family's bloodline can't be carried by some woman of questionable background."

Ethan tapped his fingers on the mahogany table. "The child will be born and raised under Vivian's name.

Since she can't have children, this works out for everyone."

"No."

Ethan's mother refused flatly.

I put down my teacup:

"The night I had my miscarriage, you swore you would never have children with anyone else."

Ethan's voice was low and hoarse. "Vivian, people can't live in the promises of the past forever."

An unexpected car horn sounded outside.

It was a delivery.

I went out and signed for the documents.

Inside were two divorce certificates.

I took my copy and put it in my bag.

When I turned around, Emilia was standing behind me, her eyes full of hate.

"Vivian, I really hate you!

Why does everyone protect you?"

I couldn't be bothered with her and tried to walk around, but she grabbed my hand.

"I'm going to make him forget you completely!"

After saying that, she grabbed a fruit knife from the table and stabbed herself hard in the stomach!

Ethan and the others rushed out at the sound, only to see Emilia curled up on the floor, blood pouring from her stomach.

"Ethan... she tried to kill me... she wanted to kill our baby..."

She accused me, barely breathing.

"Vivian!"

Ethan roared, picking Emilia up, his eyes looking like he wanted to tear me to pieces.

I watched this farce coldly. "If the baby is gone, she brought it on herself."

Slap!

A vicious slap hit my face.

"Bitch!"

His eyes were ice-cold. "I'll deal with you when I get back!"

I watched their retreating backs and wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth.

My phone vibrated, a reminder that my flight was boarding soon.

Sophia quietly came over and gestured for me to look at my phone.

She had sent me a text. "Vivian, I know it wasn't you.

You're going to Dubai. If you need help, contact this person.

He's big in the arms business, and... he's always admired you."

I looked at the familiar name and number on my phone and nodded.

"Give this to him for me."

"And congratulate him. After waiting eight years, he finally got what he wanted."

I handed Ethan's divorce certificate to Sophia, picked up my luggage, and headed to the docks without looking back.

I had to take a boat from Yangon Port first, then catch a connecting flight.

I stood by the boat, the wind from the mouth of the Mekong River howling, and dialed the number.

A calm, smiling male voice came through the phone:

"Long time no see, Vivian.

I'll pick you up when you land in Dubai."

"Okay."

I clutched the boat ticket out of Canaan.

Ethan, it's been eight years.

I'm letting you go, and I'm letting myself go.