Chapter 3

"I won’t let this slide," Ivy muttered under her breath, striding purposefully through the front yard of her house.

"Why am I the one being thrown out?"

Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, the memory of that night—the night she caught her husband in bed with another woman—flashing back with cruel clarity, reigniting the fury inside her.

"Why was I so stupid to love him?" she grumbled, not slowing her pace. From the moment she met Rico back in high school, Ivy had fallen for him. Not just for his charming smile that always made her feel special, but for the way he treated her—as if the world belonged to just the two of them.

Her love had blossomed over time, deepening into something fierce and unwavering.

They had gone through everything together—graduation, the start of their careers, and finally, standing side by side at the altar. Ivy had believed, with all her heart, that Rico was her destiny. The man who would be there through thick and thin.

She gave their marriage her all—her heart, her time, even the dreams she'd once kept for herself.

But reality turned out to be far more brutal than any love story she had imagined.

Everything shattered the night she walked into their bedroom and saw him... with her.

Her breath had caught in her throat at the sight of their bodies entangled under the dim light. There was no shame on Rico’s face. If anything, he looked like he was enjoying it. As if that betrayal wasn’t enough, he had the audacity to serve her with divorce papers the next day.

The betrayal tore Ivy’s heart into pieces. The pain in her chest was so sharp, so suffocating, she couldn’t even put it into words.

As she reached the front door, Ivy suddenly heard voices coming from inside—cheerful, happy voices. Laughing. Teasing.

"I’ll make sure this house never ends up in Ivy’s hands."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. Her hand had already reached the doorknob, but she froze.

It was Rico’s voice. Calm. Carefree.

"This place is yours, right?" the woman—Clara, Ivy recognized her voice—asked sweetly.

The same woman Ivy had found in bed with her husband.

"So make sure it doesn’t go to your ex-wife."

"Relax, babe. That’s not going to happen," Rico replied smoothly.

More laughter. More flirtatious banter. The sound of it made Ivy's stomach churn. Disgust turned into resolve. She gripped the doorknob and twisted it open without knocking.

The door was unlocked.

Of course it was. Maybe Rico had left it that way on purpose, hoping she’d catch them again, wrapped up in each other like some kind of sick joke.

"Well, looks like your ex-wife is here," Clara announced, flashing a smug smile.

Ivy’s chest heaved. Part of her wanted to scream that the divorce papers hadn’t even made it to court yet—that, legally, they were still married. But Clara clearly had no problem playing the role of the victor, already claiming Ivy's place like it was hers to begin with.

But Ivy was done begging for Rico’s love.

He had thrown her away like she was nothing. He had made it clear she wasn't enough for him. So what was the point of fighting for him now?

She was here for one thing only—to settle the matter of the house. And this house? It wasn’t his to keep.

He was the one who should be leaving. Not her.

After three days of isolating herself, Ivy had done her homework. She’d dug through every detail of Rico’s life—the things he kept hidden, including his affair with Clara. The woman, it turned out, was the daughter of Rico’s area manager. And it was her father’s support that had gotten Rico his promotion.

How did she find all that out?

Simple. Luna.

Her best friend had proven herself once again. Luna had done the digging, and what she uncovered only made Ivy feel more humiliated—like she'd been a fool right down to the bone.

"Make him beg for forgiveness, Ivy!" Luna had snapped with fire in her eyes. "Don’t you dare let him win. Don’t let him keep stomping on your pride."

Luna had cursed Rico so many times, Ivy had lost count. If he had been standing in front of her, Luna might have slapped him across the face without hesitation.

"I can’t believe I gave him all that love... and this is how he repaid me," Ivy had said, her voice hollow.

"That’s why you never love anyone too much, Ivy. I’ve warned you before, but you never listened," Luna had sighed in frustration. "Let him go. Divorce him. You deserve happiness. One day, some man will love you more than the world itself—more than the universe, deeper than the damn ocean."

"Since when did you get so poetic?" Ivy had laughed softly. "Thank you... for being here."

And now here she was—standing in the living room, face to face with Rico.

She ignored the pretty woman clinging to his side, her presence like a cheap perfume in the air.

"You signed the divorce papers, right?" Rico asked casually, like they were just discussing the weather.

Without saying much, Ivy pulled the papers out of her bag and flung them without hesitation straight into Rico’s face. He just laughed mockingly.

"It’s funny, isn’t it? Getting served divorce papers while your husband is on top of another woman," Ivy said calmly.

Clara laughed shamelessly. "You should be asking yourself why your husband turned away," she said, deliberately draping herself on Rico with exaggerated affection.

Ivy rolled her eyes in disgust. The nausea and revulsion swirling inside her only grew heavier. With biting sarcasm, she asked, "You love this woman, Rico?"

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow but smiled widely. "You’re asking questions you don’t need to ask, Ivy. Or do you want to hear something painful? Like that I don’t love you anymore?"

Ivy chuckled darkly. "Ah, you fell in love with her," she nodded briefly. "But I don’t think you fell for this cheap woman. You just fell too deep—into your own lust and ego."

"What did you say?" Clara snapped, anger flashing in her eyes.

"Calm down, darling," Rico interrupted, knowing better than to let Clara ruin their plans. He wouldn’t let that happen. "I don’t care what she says, babe. Besides, soon enough, we won’t have to deal with her anymore, right?"

Clara stared at Rico with tightly suppressed irritation. "Shameless woman," she spat out.

"It’s obvious Rico won’t stay with you, yet you still cling to hope?"

Ivy gave a thin, confident smile. "Not at all," she replied firmly. "And don’t worry—I’m not going to seek revenge. The world has its own way of making you regret this."

"You’re just talking nonsense, Ivy."

Rico tore open the documents and his smile widened even more. He was already growing annoyed with everything Ivy said. "One more thing—pack your things. I’m moving into this house with my future wife."

Ivy’s hands clenched so tight her knuckles turned white. "You should know, Rico, I paid for most of this house," she shot back, her anger boiling over. She hadn’t expected him to behave like this.

"If you forgot," Rico sneered, "this house is in my name. You can’t use your name for the paperwork, can you?"

His grin turned sly.

"So… before I get rough, you’d better clear out your stuff."

Clara’s mocking laughter rang through the room like cruel bells. Ivy’s fists were clenched so tightly it hurt, her breath heavy and ragged.

Her eyes flashed sharp daggers as she shifted her gaze between Rico and Clara. She was overwhelmed by a storm of emotions.

"I’m not going anywhere," Ivy said, each word a firm punch. "This is my home. I bought it with my hard-earned money."

Rico scoffed, clearly dismissive. "You? Bought it?" He stood right in front of her.

"You’re not amnesic, right? My money went into this house too. And I’ll say it again—this house is in my name. You have no right to it, Ivy."

"You’d better get out of this house," Clara finally spoke up. "Or do you want me to bring the cops to kick you out?"

***

"Hello."

A low voice, light and teasing, cut through the tension. A sudden scent of cologne hit Ivy’s nose, making her look up. Not far from her, a man she’d recently come to know smiled faintly. Ivy was slowly getting used to the scent of his cologne.

"Have you finished your business?"

When Ivy had come by the house a little while ago, she wasn’t alone—this man was with her.

"Just now," Ivy replied, struggling to maneuver two large suitcases.

"Is that all you’re bringing?"

"I think so," Ivy answered, uncertain.

"Hmm…" The man eyed her with an amused smile. "Are you sad about losing your husband?"

"Damn it!" Ivy snapped, frustrated. "I just want my house back."

The man nodded in understanding.

"Come on, I don’t want to stay here long. Let’s get this over with." Ivy reluctantly dragged her suitcases along.

The man laughed out loud. "You’re really impatient." Without waiting, he grabbed Ivy’s two suitcases. "I promised I’d help, remember?"

Ivy shot him a sharp glare as he walked beside her. There was no struggle for him to lift what she had been carrying.

"Don’t look at me like I’m your enemy, Ivy," Josh said, still grinning. "I’m your strongest ally, you know."

Ivy said nothing.

"You haven’t forgotten our deal, right?"