Chapter 2

Over the years, in order to be a proper live-in husband, I had pushed myself to exhaustion at Black Group during the day. At night, I still had to cater to my demanding parents-in-law.

I was barely in my early 30s, yet strands of gray had already appeared at my temples, making me look far older than my years.

I turned back to the bedroom and began packing the meager luggage I owned. I was already thinking about where to go first to properly unwind once I had the money.

I didn't notice Clara following me inside.

She said, "It's late. There's no need to move out immediately. Leave tomorrow instead.

"Isn't the villa on the west side of the city still empty? You can stay there for now. I'll visit when I have time.

"Sebastian, I know you love me. Don't act out of spite."

She gently rested her hand on her still-flat stomach. "But I truly can't stay married to you anymore. I can't let my child be labeled illegitimate from birth."

I said nothing. I simply lifted my suitcase, walked past her, and headed straight for the door.

"There's nothing left for us to discuss. I'm glad that we're getting divorced. If you have any conscience left, hurry up and pay what you owe me," I said.

The night wind carried fine snow against my face. It was biting cold, but it couldn't extinguish the fire burning hotter within me.

…

Clara was as efficient as ever. By the time I woke up, three billion dollars had already been deposited into my bank account.

With the money in hand, I immediately booked the most luxurious private club in Glenford. I got a haircut and indulged in a full-body spa. The haggard man with graying temples in the mirror was gone, replaced by a young man with striking red hair and sharp eyes.

I had just finished changing when my close friend, Frank Roth, called me.

"Sebastian! What happened between you and Clara? Are you out of your mind? The whole world has gone crazy!" he shouted the moment the call connected.

I held the phone away from my ear and asked lazily, "What happened?"

"Why are you asking me? Haven't you seen the news yourself?"

His voice brimmed with disbelief. "The headlines are swamped with photos of Clara at a gala with Leonard! She told all the reporters that he was her only husband and that they were holding the wedding immediately!

"Your snobbish parents-in-law were there too, praising him and saying that he was worth it."

He lowered his voice and asked with cautious concern, "Seb, are you okay?"

Clara was now giving someone else all the public acknowledgment I had never received and all the recognition I had longed for half my life.

I replied, "I'm fine."

I admired my new look and said calmly, "We're already divorced."

"D-divorced?"

Frank could barely believe it. He had watched me love Clara for over a decade. He had seen how I humbled myself for this marriage, erased who I was, and begged for her affection.

I didn't explain further, letting out only a soft laugh. "Are you free tonight? Come out for drinks. It's on me."

…

In the most extravagant bar in Glenford, my booth was lined with bottles of the priciest Ace of Spades. Several young, beautiful hostesses surrounded me, eagerly pouring drinks.

Frank's eyes widened. "Damn, I believe it now. You really had let go. You were never like this before."

In the past, I had carefully calculated the value of everything I bought, just to prove to Clara that I wasn't after her money. I had feared that she might think that I spent recklessly and was neglectful of the family.

Now, I sat in a lavish private room, looking at my reflection in the glass—bold red hair and a perfectly tailored bespoke suit.

Frank raised his glass and clinked it hard against mine. "You finally look like that once-in-a-century genius from Ashford University's finance department again."

He took a long gulp of liquor and spoke for me. "Back then, countless venture capital firms fought over you. If you had launched your own company, you would've crushed Black Group years ago."