"I want a divorce!

My husband doesn't love me anymore!"

When I walked into the Civil Registry Office with my waterlogged marriage certificate, a girl at the next counter was processing her divorce.

She wept bitterly, declaring her marriage had broken down.

Coincidentally, her husband shared the same name as mine: Albert Perez.

But hers was the richest man in Los Angeles, while mine was just an ordinary guy.

Chuckling at the namesake coincidence, I handed my certificate to the clerk.

"Could you reissue this for me?"

The next instant, the clerk gave me a puzzled look.

"Ma'am, our records show you as unmarried, while this gentleman is married..."

"This certificate is also forged."

I stood frozen, my blood running cold.

Instinctively glancing sideways, I saw the girl's phone wallpaper—a wedding photo.

The man in the suit was my husband of three years.

——

While I stood stunned, the girl made a call.

"Albert, I'm divorcing you! Get here now to sign the papers!"

On speakerphone, I heard that familiar voice—tender yet exasperated.

"Divorce again? I'm sorry, sweetheart. Let me make it up to you?"

She wiped her tears.

"Don't call me sweetheart. Soon I won't be your wife.

This is a notice: come sign the divorce papers immediately."

"If you don't come, I'll vanish abroad where you'll never find me.

Two years of separation means automatic divorce anyway."

Panic edged his voice as a chair clattered in the background.

"Don't move! I'm coming right now!"

After hanging up, she sniffled to the clerk:

"My husband's on his way. Is it true we need to wait thirty days for the divorce certificate?"

"Yes, the certificate'll be ready for you in thirty days."

She retreated to a waiting chair, red-eyed and vulnerable.

I wanted to flee, but I felt completely drained, my legs refusing to move.

My mind went blank. This had to be a nightmare.

How could a certificate issued here two years ago be fake?

Snapping out of my daze, I couldn't help pressing him:

"Could you double-check?

I got this certificate right here two years ago. How could it be fake?"

The clerk held the soggy document, pointing at the seal:

"Michelle Wright, see this crooked embossing? Definitely forged."

"You'll need to investigate the reason by yourself."

Pity filled the clerk's eyes. I turned away, forcing myself to stand and step aside.

Just then, the girl looked up and gasped.

"Sis, we look so alike."

My heart lurched.

Seeing her eyes mirror mine, my face stiffened.

I opened my mouth to speak—

The door burst open as a windswept man rushed in.

"Sweetheart!"

The girl and I turned simultaneously.

There stood the face I knew so well.

Just yesterday, he was still holding me, our temples brushing intimately.

But now, his eyes were only on another woman.

Laura Allen saw Albert, instantly scowling with icy fury.

"You came just in time. Let's get the paperwork done right now!"

Albert looked nervous, not even noticing me standing beside him.

"Even prisoners deserve explanations, honey.What did I do wrong to make you mad? Tell me, and I'll fix it—okay?

"I chased you for eight years to marry you, and now you want to divorce after just one year? Just kill me instead."

Laura snorted coldly, her eyes instantly reddening again.

"You promised to cherish me forever when we married. Yet after one year, you are no longer care about me."

"Always busy with work all day long—gone half the month."

The more Laura spoke, the more aggrieved she felt, tears streaming down.

Meanwhile, my face turned deathly pale.

Albert's job kept him constantly busy, away most days on trips or overtime.

I'd ached seeing him exhausted, cooking elaborate meals, rising at dawn to make his porridge.

But now...

Laura began listing grievances.

"When I went abroad three years ago, you swore you'd wait for me.

Yet within six months, you skipped one 'goodnight' text."

Three years ago—that’s when Albert and I first met.

He claimed love at first sight, kissing my brows tenderly during intimacy, eyes brimming with devotion.

"Last Valentine’s Day, I craved Crab-stuffed Dumplings from Urban District. You sent your assistant to get them instead of queuing yourself."

That day, Albert said he was working late, never returning home.

He finally arrived with cold Crab-stuffed Dumplings. Knowing the infamous lines, I hugged him—touched yet concerned.

"Then last week, when my stomach hurt, you didn’t rush back to make porridge!

Took two whole hours to get home!"

That day, my fever raged. I begged Albert to take me to the hospital.

He came briefly, checked his phone, mumbled "urgent work," and left only fever pills.

Drenched in sweat, I dry-swallowed pills and curled up, shivering through the night.

My vision blurred—each of Laura’s words stabbed like needles through my chest.

Nails dug bloody crescents into my palms, yet I felt nothing.

"You always peeled shrimp for me before. This morning, you forgot."

"You’ve changed. I won’t stay with you—let’s divorce!"

Laura sobbed like a wronged princess.

Albert wiped her tears, face etched with pain.

"I canceled a billion-dollar deal for you! How dare you say I don’t care?

I’ll work less, spend more time with you—okay?"

"Stop crying—it’s killing me.

I’m sorry. I promise I'll do better."

After Albert’s pleading, Laura finally softened.

"One last chance. Upset me again, and I’m gone forever."

They clung together, turning to leave.

Suddenly, Laura paused and glanced toward me.

"Honey, look—doesn’t this sister resemble me?"

Albert looked up, his pupils instantly contracting.

A few seconds later, he averted his gaze, with calm expression.

"I don't see the resemblance. My honey is prettier."

Laura shot him a coquettish glare.

I stood frozen, my heart submerged in icy water, cold and throbbing with pain.

Dragging my numb body home, I opened the door to find an unexpected figure inside.

—Albert.

His long legs were crossed, and he still hadn’t taken off his suit—he looked totally out of place in the cramped little house.

The absurdity struck me—I'd genuinely believed him to be an ordinary office worker.

Seeing me, Albert shed all former tenderness, leaving only icy detachment.

"You know everything now."

I clenched my fists, baffled by his composure after all the lies.

No shame, no guilt, no apology—as if it meant nothing.

But it was three years of my life.

The marriage license was fake. The love I believed in was fake. Even his identity was fake.

Every moment over those three years—fake.

I bit the tip of my tongue to hold back the tears welling up, my voice hoarse.

"Why are you here?"

Albert regarded me like a stranger discussing a transaction.

"Laura saw you today. I don't want you to show up before her again."

"I'll arrange your relocation abroad with sufficient funds for your future."

His words turned my blood to ice.

"What... are you saying?"

He stared at me, utterly emotionless.

"Meaning I won't tolerate anyone threatening my marriage."

I laughed through tears.

"Marriage?

What she has is marriage. Then what was ours?"

"You know the answer.

The license is fake."

Pausing, Albert continued:

"Three years ago Laura left for studies abroad. You resembled her, so I came after you.

Now she's back. You've served your purpose."

Purpose...

Even anticipating the truth, hearing it from Albert choked me with pain.

Just a stand-in for his longing.

Metallic blood filled my mouth as I gritted out:

"And if I refuse?"

Albert strode forward, looming over me.

"Ensure your mother rests peacefully in her grave. Compliance is wise."

I stared, disbelief widening my eyes.

"You'd threaten me with my mother?

Albert, are you even human?

Three years of lies, and now you even use her ashes to force me away?"

His tone remained flat.

"Accept my terms, and it's no threat."

Tears fell unchecked. I raised a hand to strike, but he caught my wrist first.

Albert shoved me coldly. I stumbled, crashing against a table corner.

Warm liquid trickled down as crimson flooded my vision.

Albert frowned, instinctively stepping forward.

His phone rang the next instant.

I watched his eyes soften instantly.

"Wait for me, I'll bring it over when it's done."

Albert turned to leave, paused after one step, then turned back and yanked me up.

"Laura wants seafood chowder. You make it best. Go cook for her."

My eyes were bloodshot as I wrenched myself free with all my strength.

"Albert, what do you take me for!"

He merely narrowed his eyes, tone flat.

"Don't forget your mother's ashes."

All strength drained from me. I closed my eyes and surrendered.

Taken to the villa, I prepared the chowder. Albert delivered it to Laura immediately, not even glancing my way.

I'd left in such haste—no phone, untreated cut on my forehead.

Night fell as I trudged away.

Faintly I recalled another night two years ago: dead phone, no cab, walking home.

Albert failed to contact me. He searched frantically for two hours.

When he found me, he crushed me against his chest, voice trembling.

"I was so scared, Michelle. I thought something had happened to you."

Now? My bleeding forehead drew nothing.

A gaping hole tore through my chest, pain numbing everything.

Halfway home, darkness swallowed my vision. I collapsed.

Waking in hospital, the nurse explained:

"Low blood sugar. A kind man brought you in."

I'd eaten nothing all day yesterday.

That seafood chowder simmered for an hour—I never tasted it.

The nurse added gently:

"You're two months pregnant. Must eat properly, take care."

I froze. My gaze dropped to my still-flat belly.

Pregnant...

My lips twitched stiffly, unsure what expression to wear.

Just before yesterday, this news would've brought pure joy.

But now...

After the IV, I left the hospital in a daze.

I'd only been home for a while when several men suddenly burst in, dragging me away.

I fought wildly.

"Who are you? What do you want!"

They hauled me to the cemetery. Albert stood before my mother's tombstone.

My heart seized. Voice shook.

"Albert, what is this?"

He turned, unnervingly calm.

"What did you put in the soup? Laura's having terrible cramps."

"Michelle, you always do small tricks."

"What?"

I stood rooted, denying instinctively.

"I didn't."

"You think I poisoned it?"

His glare pierced like ice shards.

"Still lying? You made it. Who else?"

"Did you know Laura's carrying my child? Tried to make her miscarry?"

Laura pregnant too...

Unconsciously, my hand pressed against my belly, fingers curling.

"No. I didn't know."

Albert stared coldly. A bodyguard stepped forward, holding an urn.

"Michelle, don't push me."

My eyes widened instantly, and I pleaded in a broken voice.

"It's really not me, I didn't do anything, please don't..."

Albert frowned, his gaze scrutinizing and hesitant.

I saw his wavering and prepared to explain further.

Suddenly, his phone rang.

After the call, Albert's expression darkened, leaving only icy coldness when he looked back at me.

"Michelle, how dare you tell her!"

"Seems you took my warning as empty air. Don't regret this!"

The next second, I watched my mother's ashes urn shatter violently on the ground.

"No!"

My heartbroken scream couldn't stop it.

Ashes scattered everywhere, slipping through my grasping fingers.

My heart felt slit by a blunt knife, pain stealing my breath.

I collapsed helplessly, sobbing with heart-breaking grief.

"This is your lesson. No next time."

Albert strode away, leaving only a merciless silhouette.

"Mom, I'm sorry... I failed you..."

I kowtowed to the ashes—tears falling, blood soaking through my bandage.

Eventually, I rose numbly from the cemetery and booked a flight for that night.

Nothing remained here worth staying for.

Back home, I packed, trashing everything Albert bought.

Documents secured, I wheeled my suitcase out.

I'd barely reached the lobby when someone suddenly shot out, clamping a handkerchief tight over my mouth.

Seconds later, darkness swallowed me.

I awoke bound in a sack—hands and feet were bound, and mouth was taped shut.

Terror peaked as a voice pierced the silence.

"Honey, believe me—I don't love Michelle. She's just your stand-in."

"My heart is yours forever. You're carrying our baby—stay calm."

"Punish me however, but never leave."

Laura's voice cracked.

"You liar! You vowed eternal love, yet found a replacement so soon?"

"When you fucked her, who were you imagining?"

"Only you. Every time with Michelle, I pictured you to... perform."

"Darling, my body and heart belong solely to you."

Each word froze my limbs numb.

Vision blurred, drowning in an abyss.

Rage, humiliation, hatred.

I bit my tongue till blood flooded my mouth.

Soon, freed from restraints, I faced Laura.

She stared with bloodshot eyes.

"Michelle, feeling smug?"

My voice rasped, "No."

Had I known Albert saw me as a stand-in, I'd never have begun.

But life offers no rewinds.

"You heard everything. Now I'll prove it myself."

"Tell me—will Albert choose you or me?"

Before the words faded, Laura suddenly shoved me, and behind me was a long flight of stairs.

My face turned pale as I instinctively grabbed Laura's arm.

In that split second, Albert rushed over, wrapped his arms around Laura, and pushed me away.

I tumbled down the stairs, my entire body aching as if run over by a car.

But the sharpest pain came from my abdomen.

Lying on the ground, I felt warm liquid flowing from between my legs.

I reached out, mustering my last ounce of strength.

"Albert... save my... baby..."

Albert glanced back at me for a split second before Laura let out a whimper.

"Honey, my stomach hurts so bad."

Albert instantly tensed, sweeping her into his arms and leaving without a backward glance.

Darkness flickered at the edges of my vision as blood pooled beneath me.

...

Albert took Laura to the hospital for a full checkup, confirming she was unharmed.

After soothing Laura to sleep, Albert recalled me collapsed on the ground, his brow furrowing deeply.

Anxiety churning within him, Albert drove back to the estate.

But upon entering, the sight that greeted him drove him to the brink of madness!