Chapter 3

"What do you want me to do?" Yvette asked, wary.

"Reveal that you're transgender when he's riding high," I said with a cold glint in my eyes. "I want him ruined."

Her eyes went wide. She hadn't expected me to ask that.

But for someone like her, reputation was the last thing to worry about.

She hesitated for a long moment while staring at my indifferent expression. Finally, she bit her lip. "Okay. I'll do it."

I nodded, satisfied.

With Yvette as an ally, my plan would progress more quickly.

Wilson could bask in his so-called true love. After all, his good days were numbered.

…

After striking the deal with Yvette, I fully embraced the role of the perfect wife.

When Wilson came home, I'd have his favorite dishes ready.

Once, Yvette brought him her homemade chilled scallops. He praised her in front of me, saying she was gentle and skilled in the kitchen.

I listened without a hint of annoyance and even smiled. "If you like it, I'll learn to cook too."

The next morning, I went to the market and picked up fresh ribeye and plenty of garlic.

Yvette's chilled scallops were briny, but their nature was deeply cooling to the system. The pan-seared ribeye, basted in a rich garlic butter, was deeply warming by nature. It perfectly balanced the chill of the scallops while creating a subtle thermal conflict within the body.

A few days later, Yvette brought Wilson a red wine beef stew, saying it was specially made for him for nourishment.

So I bought some celery and cucumber and went home to make a chilled cucumber-and-celery gazpacho.

Celery helped with digestion, while the cucumber was cooling and hydrating. Together, they perfectly contrasted the warming effect of the red wine beef stew.

When Wilson came home, he drank two bowls of gazpacho, then mentioned Yvette's beef stew. "Yvie's beef stew warms me up more. This one makes me feel cold."

"Lately, you've been staying up late and going out a lot, so I made this gazpacho to help you cool down."

I calmly poured him a third bowl. "Healthy eating isn't just about rich, warming foods. It's about balance."

If Yvette made a creamy potato gratin to thicken his blood and build heat, I'd make an arugula salad to drain his system.

If she made spicy lamb shank, I'd serve sea bass ceviche to lower the heat.

One evening, mid-meal, Wilson set down his cutlery and reached for me. "Shannon, let's have another child."

My body froze instantly. A flicker of subtle pain flashed across my eyes.

I'd had a child once.

I'd been overjoyed, anticipating his arrival. But Wilson's second lover had spiked my milk, causing a miscarriage just to force a divorce.

Wilson was out with her at the time. He only learned of the miscarriage from Brendon.

When he returned, he said, "We can try again later."

After that, he never mentioned it again.

I gently pushed him away and replied calmly, "I've been handling big surgeries lately. I'm too tired to think about that right now."

Rejected, Wilson looked at me with nostalgia. "You know, I like the old you better. As chaotic as you were, at least you were lively. Now, it feels like something's missing."

I looked up at him with a faint smile on my lips. "People change."

He looked at me, hesitating to speak. In the end, he just sighed and said nothing.

He'd forgotten that I became this way because of him.

Some men were never content. After shaping their women into the image they desired, they'd still complain that they were not lively enough.

Wilson never asked about having a child again.

As the days went by, Wilson doted on Yvette more and more.