DEAR MY EX-HUSBAND, YOUR REGRET IS IN VAIN

Niana’s fingers trembled violently as she tried to smooth the creases of her champagne silk gown for the tenth time. She hated this fabric. It felt cold, exactly like her emotions that night. Looking at her reflection in the grand mirror of the Prescott penthouse, Niana didn't see herself. She saw an asset being polished to be sold to the highest bidder.Don’t throw up, Niana. Just hold on a little longer. Dad needs this. The company needs this.She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the haunting image of the mountain of debt that had plagued her sleep for months."Niana? Are you still in there?" Patricia’s voice drifted through the door, followed by a rhythmic, gentle knock. "The Millers are downstairs. Don’t keep them waiting too long, darling. First impressions are everything."Niana took a deep breath, swallowing the nausea rising in her throat. When she opened the door, she found Patricia standing there, looking flawless in an elegant black dress. Her stepmother smiled—the

Niana remained frozen in front of the laptop. The sounds of Patricia and Sean’s moans in the video were like razor blades slicing through her sanity. Her hands gripped the edge of the vanity so hard her knuckles turned stark white. Just as she was about to forcefully slam the cursed screen shut, the screech of tires braking suddenly in the front yard shattered the silence.Sean was back.Niana heard the car door slam with such violence that the echo of the thud vibrated up to the second floor. It was followed by the sound of frantic, heavy footsteps rushing up the stairs in a state of sheer panic. Sean had never been this unhinged.Did he just realize he left this "treasure" at home?Niana took a shallow breath that felt like it was strangling her lungs. She didn't move an inch. She remained seated at her vanity, letting the laptop stay on, the video frame frozen on a scene where Sean was passionately kissing Patricia’s neck.The bedroom door swung open, hitting the wall with a deafeni

Three days laterSean Miller sipped his expensive whiskey with a sickening smile. Amidst the roar of the ballroom at The Pierre, he felt like a god. His arm was draped around Patricia’s waist, his hand occasionally stroking her stomach in a gesture deliberately flaunted toward the reporters' cameras.They paid no mind to the flashes of light or the judgmental whispers from gala guests branding Patricia a traitor. Patricia herself beamed with pride; she had finally secured the man she wanted."You look remarkably happy, Sean," Robert, a business colleague, chuckled. "So, where is Niana? I mean, I don't mean to pry, but I heard she didn't leave with a single cent?"Sean let out a discordant laugh, his eyes glinting coldly. "Niana? She was just a parasite who finally realized her place. She has no business talent, no connections, and frankly... she lacks the class to even stand in this room. I gave her enough money to survive in some dingy flat. That’s more than enough for a woman like h