Chapter 2

Michael seemed taken aback by how easily I walked away.

Before he could speak, I turned around and headed for the door.

Explosive laughter instantly erupted behind me.

Someone shouted about transferring the title of the sports car.

Others sneered, saying they thought I would put up a fight this time, only to run with my tail tucked between my legs.

All the shock Michael had, quickly dissolved into the noise.

He bent down, picked up the black card, and spoke with absolute certainty, as if he was reassuring himself.

"She cut ties with her family years ago. She has no friends left in the business world, either.

"Where else could she possibly go without me?"

---

As I pushed the heavy doors open, a notification from my lawyer popped up on my phone.

It was a detailed asset portfolio, along with a proposed investment plan.

I had originally planned to use my own funds to cover Michael's corporate debt as an engagement present.

Now, that was completely unnecessary.

My finger tapped the screen as I sent a quick text to my lawyer.

“Cancel the investment plan. Prepare a hostile takeover strategy for the Wesley Group instead.”

The reply was instantaneous.

“Understood. Both the inheritance transfer and the acquisition plan will be finalized within a week.”

I locked my phone and walked into the night without looking back.

I was eager to see who would really be left with nowhere to go.

---

When I unlocked the door to my apartment, a velvet gift box was sitting on the console in the entryway.

An attached handwritten note bore Michael's handwriting.

“Happy 7th Anniversary. Don't lose it this time.”

I opened the box.

My breath hitched.

It was the first real gift Michael had ever bought me since seven years ago.

Back when I severed ties with my family to build a business with him from scratch, he bought this necklace after hitting our first million.

Later, the company ran into a severe cash flow crisis.

We couldn't even meet payroll.

I wanted to go back to my father for help, but Michael refused to let me bow my head.

"If you go back, we lose," he argued. "What were the last three years even for?"

Desperate, I went behind his back and visited pawnshops across town.

The final pawnbroker warned me, "The quality is average. If you sell this, you won't be able to buy it back."

I hesitated, but signed the papers anyway.

It was the night before payday, and our corporate account had been completely drained.

I thought I would never see it again.

---

Thunder rumbled outside.

The humid, pre-storm air weighed heavily on my chest.

My phone buzzed with a message from Michael.

“By the way, make sure you clean up the press releases about tonight. Chloe is sensitive right now because of the pregnancy. Don't let her see any trashy headlines.”

I set the velvet box back down without touching it further.

Once something had been lost, picking it back up would only leave you holding something stained by someone else.

The rain finally poured down.

I sat on the living room couch, listening to the downpour until dawn.

The rain was heavy, then light, then heavy again.

The front door never opened.

My phone never lit up.

At sunrise, I splashed cold water on my face.

As I wiped my skin dry, a VIP notification flashed on my screen.

It was an update from Chloe.

The photo showed Michael carefully wrapping his arms around her.

In front of them sat a custom cake that read, “Happy Marriage, Mr. & Mrs. Wesley.”

I zoomed in on the image.

The foundation work was exquisite, it was identical to the cakes Chloe used to bake for me every year.

Her caption read, “Handmade by Michael himself! Our sweet Chloe is so blessed!”

I casually tapped the like button, then removed both of them from my VIP contacts.

Every year on my birthday, I used to beg Michael to learn how to bake a cake for me from Chloe.

Even just a single cupcake.

He always frowned, claiming he was too clumsy to learn.

When I pushed too hard, he simply bought out an entire bakery to quiet me down.

I genuinely believed he just hated tedious chores.

I locked my screen in silence.

Looking at my red-rimmed eyes in the mirror, I grabbed my laptop, ready to leave for my meeting with the lawyer.

Just as I reached the lobby downstairs, Michael's caller ID flashed across my screen.