Chapter 3

The Rays' resort was swarming with people, and luxury cars lined up outside like a showroom. Every big name in town seemed to be there.

Tony, the heir to Ray Corporation, stood at the center of it all—calm, sharp, and powerful. His wedding was so high-profile that it was impossible for it to be low-key.

Matthew walked back into the resort, his gray suit a little undone, the top buttons of his shirt left loose. His sharp face carried a mix of good and bad boy.

The second he spotted Tony, Matthew's expression flipped like a switch. The shadows disappeared, and his usual carefree charm slid back into place.

Tony, dressed in a perfectly tailored black tux, frowned. "Why are you back alone?"

Matthew smirked. "Shirley got hit by a car on the way here. I told her to stay home and rest."

"At home? If it's not serious, why wouldn't she come?"

"She's shaken up. She just needs to rest," Matthew said, brushing him off.

Tony clearly wasn't buying it. He pulled out his phone. "Shirley's not the type to skip if it mattered. This must've been your idea."

The moment Shirley answered, Tony didn't waste time. "Shirley, you should come."

Shirley, still burning with anger, snapped back, "What do you even need me there for? Unless you're about to cancel this wedding and say you're marrying me instead, I'm not showing up. But if you do, I'll call a cab right now and be there."

Tony froze, his face tight as he shot Matthew a complicated look. Then his voice softened, calm as ever. "Alright. You don't have to come. Rest well."

Without missing a beat, he hung up and went back to greeting guests as if nothing had happened.

Matthew raised his brows, curious now. What had Shirley said to make the usually stubborn Tony just let it go?

The endless rounds of socializing were finally wrapping up. After the bride and groom made their toast, it was time for the big group photo.

Matthew hadn't really been paying attention the whole evening. He only had a couple of drinks before the host called him up to the stage for pictures.

He moved lazily, almost as if he didn't care, but in his sharp light-gray suit, he stood tall and confident, looking more striking than ever.

He was busy texting Shirley.

[I'm almost done. Want me to bring you something back to eat?

[Baby, don't stay mad. You'll make me worry.

[Come on, talk to me.]

He even attached a crying face emoji.

[They're making us take pictures now. I'll be home after, I promise.]

Finally, Shirley replied. [Don't you dare take pictures with Astrid.]

Matthew's whole mood flipped. To him, her reply meant she wasn't really mad anymore. Smiling, he typed back, [Finally. Good girl.]

Then, he fixed his jacket and stepped onto the stage.

Of course, the Rays' wedding photos made it to every headline. The one they chose showed Astrid linking arms with both Tony and Matthew, smiling widely. Matthew's dark eyes looked calm, but the tiny smile tugging at his lips showed his happiness.

When Shirley saw the picture, she didn't even have the strength to cry anymore. When would Matthew ever take her words seriously? Maybe never.

She glanced at the packed suitcase in front of her. Leaving suddenly felt like the only way to breathe. Divorce seemed like her only way out.

Just as she stood up, her phone buzzed with a notification.

Astrid had posted on Instagram.

[He got drunk and told me I'm the one he loves.]

The picture showed a man's gray suit sleeve, and Astrid's arm looped through it. Tony had been wearing black. Matthew was in gray.

Shirley grabbed her other phone and logged into her account. Sure enough, Astrid had set it so only she could see it.

That was it!

Rage shot up Shirley's body so fast it made her shake. Her whole chest burned.

The woman was blatantly humiliating her. Divorce would be way too easy for them. Shirley wouldn't let them get their way.

She fired back in the comments.

[Playing an innocent bride while being a shameless slut? Impressive.]

She took a screenshot of the Instagram post.

Within ten seconds, Astrid deleted it.

"Ha. I knew it. Guilty much?" Shirley muttered.

Still, she felt that it wasn't enough. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. Since today was Astrid's wedding, Shirley decided to go all out. Time to fight fire with fire.

Shirley posted the screenshot on her own Instagram for everyone to see.

As Matthew's wife, Shirley knew half the city would see it in seconds. Friends, coworkers, distant acquaintances—it didn't matter.

Not even a minute later, the Rays were blowing up her phone.

Shirley had dropped a bomb, but she didn't care what kind of storm it stirred up. She hung up right away, turned off her phone, and walked off.

Forget them—she was done putting up with their crap.

The moment she did it, she felt a rush of relief.

She packed up her things and moved into the faculty housing at her university.

The next day, Noelle went with Shirley to the hospital to change her bandages. Sliding into Shirley's old secondhand car, Noelle pushed down her sunglasses and wrinkled her nose.

"You're still driving this thing? Your husband's garage looks like a car dealership, and he doesn't let you drive one of his cars?"

Shirley stared out the window. Just hearing Matthew's name didn't stir anything in her chest anymore. In a flat voice, she replied, "I can't be too flashy as a professor. Keeping it low-key suits my noble personality more."

The truth was, Matthew had told her that she could drive any of his cars. But after growing up with nothing, she couldn't bring herself to touch them. If she scratched one, she'd never afford the repairs.

Noelle rolled her eyes. "Please! Matthew called me all night last night. I didn't even dare pick up. That post you made—was it true?"

Shirley gave the smallest hum, her face expressionless as she kept watching the road.

Noelle nearly blew up. "Astrid is already married to Tony, one of the richest guys in the state! What else does she want? Why keep hanging on to his brother? Is there something wrong with her?"

Shirley shrugged. "She posted it just for me to see. A power play."

"Ugh, she's the worst," Noelle cursed under her breath.

At the hospital, the doctor unwrapped Shirley's bandages. The wounds still hadn't closed, raw and red, with blood soaking into the gauze.

Noelle stepped aside to take a call. Shirley bit her lip, trying not to flinch as the medicine stung.

"Let it dry before you cover it again," the doctor said.

She stood barefoot in the crowded hallway, her legs raw and aching. She felt embarrassed and just wished Noelle would hurry back.

Then, she looked up—and the sight before her made her blood boil.

Matthew, still in that gray suit, was carefully guiding Astrid along. Behind them trailed the hospital director, the department head, and a whole crowd of people—the kind of grand entrance that stung her to the quick.

Astrid's eyes were red, her delicate features making her look so soft and fragile that she seemed as if she might break at the slightest touch.

Meanwhile, Matthew hovered at her side like an obedient little lapdog.

Shirley gave a cold, sharp laugh. She couldn't even be bothered to greet them.

If he liked being Astrid's lapdog, so be it.

But then, Matthew spotted her. His gaze locked in, sharp and focused. He strode straight toward her.

Shirley panicked and tugged her skirt down to hide the scars, but it was too late.

Matthew dropped to one knee in front of her, not caring who was watching. His jawline cut sharply in the light, his dark eyes filled with shock as he stared at her wounds. His hand hovered as if he wanted to touch her wounds, but didn't dare.

"What happened? How could you be hurt this badly? Why didn't you tell me?"

Shirley gave him a hollow smile. "Didn't I?"