Chapter 2

The comments came back.

[Hah. Buying goodwill. She's spending the male lead's money anyway.]

[What can the villainess do besides spend money? Once the male lead discovers how good the darling heroine is, let's see how long she can stay smug.]

[Exactly. The male lead belongs to the heroine sooner or later. What's she so proud of?]

I looked at the girl.

"What's your name?"

"B-Bethany Quinn."

I nodded and turned back to the office.

Not long after, Preston came back from his meeting.

He pushed the door open with a smile. "Honey, what you did just now--"

"Fire Bethany Quinn."

His smile stiffened for a second.

"What?"

"I said, fire Bethany Quinn."

Preston frowned.

"Over one bag of oranges? She was only being kind--"

"She has designs on you."

Preston froze for a few seconds, then laughed and came over to take my hand.

"You're overthinking it. She's just a fresh graduate. She's very capable, too. Several major projects in marketing were negotiated by her."

"I don't interfere with your company." I pulled my hand back. "But I don't like this person."

Preston sighed, softening his tone.

"Honey, don't make a scene.

"A company has rules. I can't fire a talented employee just because of your intuition. What would that look like if word got out?"

[The male lead is protecting the heroine! So sweet!]

[Look at the villainess getting humiliated. This feels great.]

[This is only the beginning. Later, when she frames the heroine, the male lead throws her straight into a psychiatric hospital.]

A psychiatric hospital.

It felt as if someone had seized my heart. It hurt so badly I couldn't breathe.

I looked at him.

There was still tenderness in his eyes, still patience. He was still coaxing me.

But he didn't know the comments had already told me the ending.

I closed my eyes and forced down the emotion surging through me.

"Fine. You don't have to fire her."

Preston let out a breath. "Thank you for understanding, honey--"

"Put all your assets under my name by notarized agreement."

The office went silent.

Preston's expression froze completely.

"Mara, this is the office."

His voice sank. "Don't be unreasonable."

I looked at him and said nothing.

His phone rang.

He answered and said a few words. After he hung up, he told me, "I have a business dinner tonight. I'll have the driver take you home first."

He didn't wait for my answer. He turned and left.

His steps were quick.

Almost as if he were fleeing.

[Haha, the villainess is spiraling.]

[Serves her right. She wanted all his assets? Look how the male lead ignores her.]

[Later, when the male lead gets with the heroine, he hands over all financial control to her. The difference is obvious.]

I didn't know how I got home.

By the time I came back to myself, I was already sitting at the computer in the study.

The comments said that after the divorce, I wouldn't know how to do anything and could only become a sleazy livestreamer.

What a joke.

I clicked open a folder.

It was filled with photographs I had taken.

There were also several award certificates from photography magazines.

I flipped through them one by one.

My gaze stopped on the last image.

It was a collage, made from countless photos of Preston and me, forming a portrait of him.

Every photo was a memory.

Only the place over his heart was empty.

That spot was supposed to hold a photo of the aurora.

Back in college, we agreed we would see the northern lights together.

He said the aurora symbolized eternal love.

Ten years had passed.

We still hadn't gone.

I opened a job site and began filling out applications.

I entered my awards one by one.

I attached a link to my portfolio.

Then I clicked submit.

The next day, I began picking up all the skills I had once thrown away.

Starting with making breakfast.

Turn on the stove. Pour the oil.

The beaten egg hit the pan, and hot oil spat upward.