My husband forced me to sign the divorce papers—because his two mistresses wanted a proposal.

I pleaded him to not, but he just flicked a check at me,asking me "Is this enough?" impatiently.

"You have to understand, men are wired to chase what they can't have. Especially for two untouchable beauties. Once I have them, I'll come back and settle down with you."

I closed my eyes, the last flicker of hope extinguished. Calmly, I took the divorce papers and signed my name.

Adam Acrea patted my head in satisfaction. "Good girl, it's just a fake divorce. I'll cancel it before the cooling-off period ends."

I didn't argue, just bent down and picked up the check from the floor.

He didn't know I wouldn't be waiting for him anymore.

And next time we met, he will be the one who’ll beg.

***

"Hey, the divorce registration is all set and will be official in a month."

I grabbed the receipt from the worker, but Adam yanked it out of my hand right away to snap a photo.

Then he started grinning at his phone, like a young guy who's head over heels.

The lady at the window gave me a look of pity.

Just to keep his girlfriends happy, I'd acted out so many "fake divorces" with Adam—even the staff knew me now.

After a while, Adam looked up, his face all soft and loving as he pulled out a red velvet box.

He showed it to me. "Hannah, is this pretty?"

"Do you think Abigail and Layla will like it?"

Inside were two fancy rings. I nodded calmly. "It's nice."

My thumb automatically rubbed my ring finger, where only a faint mark was left.

A week ago, Abigail Daulton cut her wrists in a fishing village while Layla Daulton overdosed abroad—both wanted Adam to propose to them, asking for the same wedding rings we had at our wedding.

Those were limited-edition rings he made just for me, the only pair in the world.

While I was sleeping, he took my ring, saying it needed maintenance.

I knew he was lying. He flushed both rings down the toilet himself, just to make his girlfriends happy.

As we got in the car, he automatically took my hand.

The interior of the car I designed was now pink. Seeing me staring, Adam quickly said. "The two ladies are so childish. They wanted to change the color. I'll switch it back."

I simply replied to him. After the divorce, the wedding car should naturally get a new look.

Whether it was the strong new air freshener or the trunk full of flowers, I couldn't stop sneezing. Adam finally looked up from his phone.

Seeing the rash on my neck, he frowned. "I forgot you're allergic to pollen."

He then told the driver to hurry to the hospital right away.

But while waiting at a traffic light, he got a phone call, and his face got serious.

"Pull over!"

Adam looked at me. "Abigail got burned by boiling water. She's usually so stuck-up and acts all cool, but now she's crying to me. This is rare, so I need to go.

"Hannah, you go to the hospital by yourself."

I was pushed out of the car and stood there, dazed, in front of the traffic.

It wasn't until I got a message on my phone about the flight ticket that I snapped out of it.

I hailed a taxi and went to the hospital.

The nurse was surprised to see me by myself. "Didn't your husband come with you this time?"

Adam used to freak out if I was around even a little bit of dust and would rush me to the hospital.

He'd even delayed shareholder meetings for me.

I smiled and shook my head. "He's busy."

After I got the injection, there was a lot of noise at the nurse's station.

"Oh my goodness, that guy is super-hot!"

"Did you see him bring his girlfriend to the hospital with 99 red roses? Carrying her in one arm and flowers in the other!"

"Her skin was just a little burned. If he'd come later, it might have healed on its own."

I looked through the window and saw that bright red bouquet of roses.

The guy was hunched over, typing on his phone.

With a buzz, a message from Adam popped up. "Hannah, how are you? Feeling better?"

Looking down from the building, he had already put away his phone and was leading the woman away.

Their fingers were interlocked, and the rings on their fingers matched surprisingly well, dazzlingly so.

I lowered my head and accepted two friend requests.

Their profile pictures matched the one Adam had recently changed to. Before this, his profile picture had always been of me.

The young and impulsive woman wasn't polite at all. "Since you've divorced Adam, please move out today and clean the place."

They didn't know that out of guilt, his divorce agreement had assigned 80% of the property to me, including the villa we were living in.

I casually circled the clauses in the agreement and sent them a photo. "You should have read the agreement."

There was no response from them after that.

Just then, my phone rang. "Hannah, what theme do you like for the wedding?"

There wasn't much to pack—one suitcase was almost full.

When I went downstairs, Adam was curled up on the couch, though I didn't know when he'd gotten there.

I went straight to pour a glass of water, then took my stomach medicine and walked over.

Suddenly, he stood up and slapped me hard across the face.

"Hannah Hackett, you've gone too far!

"Who gave you the right to send our divorce agreement to them?

"I've explained a million times—they're just toys, they won't affect your status. When I'm done playing, I'll naturally come back to the family. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?

"People of our status... Who doesn't have a few confidantes? Even your father..."

My eyes turned red as I glared at him.

His voice got softer as he stepped forward to hug me. "Besides, all these years we've been married, I've only been with you. Can't you feel how much I love you?

"Be good. I promise that after this, I'll only be with you for the rest of my life."

Back then, the playboy heir chased me for three whole years. He said I'd be the only one in his life, that he'd protect me and my family with his life.

I believed him.

Now, I'm numb from hearing the same words over and over.

When did the trust fade away completely?

It was when his girlfriend first disappeared, and he publicly declared his love for them using my account in the company group to win them back, making me the laughing stock of the entire circle.

The next day, I was surrounded by the media, facing the flashing lights all by myself and feeling really lost.

It was on our anniversary that he left me to go on a high-altitude adventure for love, leaving me alone to be blamed by his family for not caring about his safety.

It was the 911 distress calls he hung up on while celebrating at Disney with his girlfriend.

It was when he made me donate blood against my will just because my blood type matched that girlfriend of his, causing me to lose our newly formed baby, yet he blamed me for failing to keep the child.

It was the day before he handed me the divorce agreement, when he reassigned all specialists for the girlfriend, leaving my mother—who had been my only family—dying without rescue because no experts were available.

I was trembling all over, my clothes soaked in water.

He still held me, the scent on his nose one he had never worn before.

Turning my face away, I saw a string of numbers tattooed on his collarbone—the birthdays of his girlfriends, and also the anniversary of my mother's death.

Remembering my mother's last words before she passed, I subtly withdrew from his embrace.

He stuffed a check for 15 million dollars into my hand. "They like this villa. You should move out first."

I took the check and softly replied, "Okay."

Then I handed him the medicine in my hand.

Adam's eyes warmed, and he was about to take my hand. "Hannah..."

At that moment, shrill screams came from outside the door.

It was my dog.

I rushed out in a panic.

There stood Abigail and Layla, viciously kicking the dog that lay dying on the ground.

I shoved both of them away, unable to hold back my tears. "Bolt! Bolt!"

The little dog was barely breathing, yet still tried to wag its tail at me.

Abigail and Layla just stood by, watching coldly.

"So it's your dog. We thought it was a stray that ran into our house."

"Why haven't you left yet? Didn't Adam tell you?"

I stood up and slapped Abigail hard across the face. The next moment, a slap landed on my own face.

Seeing Adam, Layla's eyes instantly welled up. "Adam, she hit Abigail!"

He stared at his palm, then looked at me with guilt. "Hannah, I didn't mean to..."

Abigail scoffed. "Is this how Mr. Acrea shows his sincerity in pursuing us? You're divorced, yet still lingering with your ex-wife?

"If that's the case, my sister and I can't possibly be with you.

"We come from respectable families and will never be mistresses."

She glanced pointedly at me. "Unlike some people who cling on after divorce. Is this what passes for decency in your upper-class society?"

Adam's face froze. "Hannah, apologize to Abigail and Layla."

Snow began to fall suddenly. I held Bolt tightly, feeling its body gradually stiffen.

My eyes reddened as I met his gaze defiantly. "They killed my dog."

They killed the dog that had been with me for 15 years. The last thing my mother left me in this world!

Adam's eyes showed a bit of pity, but Layla grabbed Abigail's arm. "Adam, that dog attacked my sister first!"

I felt really angry. My dog was always gentle and would never attack anyone unless they did something first.

He quickly stepped forward to check Abigail's hand. "Does it hurt?"

Abigail turned her face away with a defiant look. "What if it does? The one who did it won't get punished anyway."

Adam's voice got all soft and understanding. "My little princess, what do you want me to do?"

Abigail gave me a mean look. "Since your ex-wife feels so bad for a dog, why not make her spend the night in a dog cage?"

Adam didn't hesitate and said, "Alright, as long as Abigail is happy, anything is fine."

She finally smiled, a dazzling grin that fascinated Adam so much he couldn't take his eyes off her face for a long while.

Then, Adam looked at me with disgust and ordered the bodyguard beside him, "Why aren't you doing as Ms. Abigail said?"

The bodyguard hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something, "B-But Mr. Acrea, it's minus ten Celsius outside at night, and Mrs. Acrea she..."

Abigail's face fell, and she turned to leave. "Even the dogs you keep only listen to your ex-wife. How can I trust you to be good to my sister and me in the future?"

Adam immediately chased after her, hugging her and cooing, "Okay, okay, my little princess, we'll do everything as you say!"

He then glared at the bodyguard, "Why aren't you moving?"

I fought really hard, but I still got locked in a dog cage.

Layla picked up Bolt by the tail and turned to Adam with a flirtatious smile. "Adam, it's so cold today, perfect for dog meat barbecue to celebrate our housewarming. What do you think?"

I fell to the ground, clawing at the cage. "No!

"Please! Please, Adam. Don't do this to Bolt!"

Kneeling in the cage, I bowed over and over, but Adam just stared at Abigail's face like he was obsessed. He took her hand to his lips, blowing on it to keep her warm.

Without even looking at me, he put his arm around Abigail's waist, took Layla's hand, and walked into the villa.

I screamed his name over and over, like a ghost's wail in the night.

I don't remember when I froze and passed out. But when I woke up, the scent of barbecue was coming from the villa.

A plate of broken bones was placed right in front of me.

Holding Bolt's leash so tight, my nails dug into my palm. "Adam, I will never ever forgive you."

But when I woke up the next day, he was sitting by my bed with red-rimmed eyes.

"You're awake, Hannah! Do you feel unwell anywhere?"

Adam grabbed my hand, his face full of worry.

I pulled my hand away without any expression, but he immediately held it again.

"You were in the wrong last night. It was just a dog.

"Go apologize to Abigail later. She's not petty. She'll forgive you."

My heart had already ached to the point of numbness. I closed my eyes, not wanting to engage with him.

Unexpectedly, he kept chattering on.

Growing impatient, I asked, "Where am I?"

Adam looked uncomfortable. "Abigail has nyctophobia, and Layla likes bright rooms. We gave them the master bedroom and guest room.

"Hannah, you'll have to stay in the basement for now."

Just then, a phone rang abruptly.

Adam fumbled to turn on speakerphone, and Layla's flirtatious voice rang out. "Adam, where did you go? The wedding dress designer is here. Come quick!"

He looked flustered, throwing an awkward glance my way. "Be good, I'm handling work. I'll be right back."

He hung up immediately after speaking, "Hannah, rest first."

He stood up and hurried out, his steps so joyful that it was like the day he married me, as if he'd won a battle.

I don't know how much time passed before sounds came from outside the door.

Abigail and Layla walked in, sneering at me the moment they saw me.

"Didn't expect you to be so shameless, using a martyr act to mooch off us."

Layla spat at me. "Ugh! You're such a cheapskate. You even tried to copy us by running away from home. What a lame copycat. You're an old hag! Have some shame!

"Be smart and get out of here! Or else..."

Abigail stepped in front of me, sneering. "Hannah, do you still think Adam cares about you?

"Want us to show who he cares about more—us or you?"

With a crazy look, she took out a bottle of gasoline.

Frowning, I tried to dodge them. "What are you doing?"

But the two of them grabbed me and lit the gasoline!

Then she called Adam, "Adam, help! We came to visit Hannah out of kindness, but she's trying to burn us to death!"

They coughed.

Flames shot up right away. I rushed to the door, but they held me back tightly.

The fire was about to reach my body, and my nostrils were filled with thick smoke.

I broke free, soaked the curtain, and pressed it hard against my nose.

The next moment, the door was kicked in.

Seeing me, Adam picked me up. "Hannah, are you okay?"

Just then, Abigail and Layla's cries rang out. "Help! Adam, save us!"

Adam immediately put me down and rushed to their side, pulling them out of the room.

A huge impact tripped me to the ground. Lying there, I looked up and shouted, "Adam..."

The guy sprinting out the door whipped around, but got distracted by Abigail's groan. "Hang in there, Abigail. I'll get you out!"

He didn't even glance at me again, walking away without looking back.

As the flames engulfed me, I closed my eyes in despair.

Three days later, Adam married Abigail and Layla in Bangladesh.

The three of them transferred flights to Europe for a honeymoon, where Adam spent a full month with them.

He posted a photo on Instagram. It showed two streaks of bright red blood on a bedsheet, with him making a victory pose.

The comments were all praise. "What a lucky man! Mr. Acrea is awesome!"

"Congrats to Mr. Acrea for winning two beauties!"

But leaning on the balcony and smoking, Adam felt no joy of conquest, just an inexplicable restlessness.

He kept refreshing the screen.

After pulling Abigail and Layla out of the fire, they cried that Hannah had set the fire on purpose to kill them.

He was about to go back for Hannah, but the sisters' words made him stop.

He hadn't fully "secured" Abigail and Layla yet—Hannah had almost ruined his plans, so she needed to learn a lesson.

He told the bodyguard to wait five minutes before going in to rescue her, then took Abigail and Layla straight to the airport.

He figured the sooner he took care of things, the sooner he could calm Hannah down.

But in the past month, none of his messages to Hannah had gotten a reply.

Adam's heart sank more and more. Losing his patience, he went to his room, grabbed his clothes, and stormed out.

The Daulton sisters, still in the afterglow of their first night together, panicked and grabbed his hand. "Adam, where are you going?"

He shook off their grasp impatiently. "Let's go back to the country."

But when he got back, the scene in front of him nearly drove him mad.