Chapter 1

Kimberly Williams slumped onto the bed, stunned beyond belief.

Richard's signature on the divorce agreement was sharp and decisive, with no hint of hesitation. The document had been drafted seven years ago, right when they'd just gotten married.

Back then, he'd been willing to give up everything for her. But each year after that, he'd crossed out more assets.

Seven years later, she was the one expected to leave empty-handed.

Her phone buzzed suddenly with a text from Richard: [Unexpected business trip. Don't wait for me.]

She tried calling him, but his phone was already off.

Then a message from a friend popped up—a screenshot of a social media post by Lotta Anderson, the underprivileged student Kimberly had been sponsoring.

[Got praised today! To celebrate my first period without any leaks, Mr. CEO says we gotta party it up.]

The nine-photo grid showed Richard smiling warmly, tenderly fastening a stunning sapphire pendant around her neck. The post was geotagged at a romantic couple's hotel.

Kimberly's breath caught in her throat. He couldn't remember their seventh wedding anniversary, yet he'd gone out of his way to celebrate something as trivial as Lotta's period.

And that sapphire pendant? She'd spotted it at last week's auction. It was her family's heirloom and her mother's lost keepsake. She'd been about to bid when she learned her credit card had been frozen.

She had asked Richard why, and it had taken him forever to reply: [Don't waste money on useless junk like that.]

Clutching her bidder's paddle, she'd felt utterly lost in the auction hall. Finally, she'd decided to sell her graphic design portfolio to scrape together the funds.

But someone had phoned in a remote bid that blew everyone else out of the water. Kimberly had beaten herself up for weeks, hating that she couldn't preserve her mother's memento.

She'd never imagined the bidder was Richard himself. He knew how desperately she wanted it, yet he'd gifted it to Lotta.

Even on their anniversary, he'd lied about being buried in work while wining and dining the other woman.

And his gift for her? A divorce agreement that left her with nothing.

He'd been cheating for the entire seven years of their marriage, and she had been completely oblivious—even introducing Lotta to him.

Lotta was a poor college student Kimberly had sponsored. When she'd first visited to express her thanks, Richard had complained that she was invading their privacy and said he couldn't stand her.

"Some country girl with no manners, tracking mud all over my cashmere rug. If she doesn't ace her exams, cut her off—no more handouts."

Kimberly had teased him, telling him not to get petty and that the girl had a grateful heart. She'd never suspected a thing between them.

For seven years, everyone in their social circle knew Richard didn't play around; he only had eyes for Kimberly.

But the next time they met, Lotta had transformed into his personal assistant.

He'd explained it casually: "She's had a tough life. You've been helping her for years, so giving her a job is just me taking some weight off your shoulders."

Kimberly had brushed it off with a smile. But now, her hands trembled as she scrolled through Lotta's social media.

She remembered Lotta had always blocked her from viewing posts, but now the girl seemed eager to show off everything.

While Kimberly had been downing drinks to close a business deal for Richard and ending up in the ER with a bleeding ulcer, Lotta was using his credit card to buy her first Louis Vuitton bag.

While Kimberly cared for Richard's bedridden grandmother, changing bedpans and cleaning up messes, he was off on fake business trips, taking Lotta to perfume-blending workshops.

Lotta had even posted a rant: [Your wife is such a clingy type, calling you back for every little thing. Can't she survive without a man?]

Richard had commented below: [If she were half as independent as you, it'd save me a headache.]

But that day, Kimberly's mother died from cancer. Kimberly had cried until she was hoarse, frantically handling all the arrangements alone.

Richard had kept glancing at his phone, itching to leave—not for work, but to rush back to Lotta.

Every timeline matched perfectly. It hit Kimberly like a gut punch, leaving her breathless with pain. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, all dressed up, then at the cold dinner on the table. It all felt like a cruel joke.

After a long pause, she dialed a number she knew by heart but hadn't called in years.

"You still want to set me up with that illegitimate son from the Shaw family? As long as he doesn't mind that I'm divorced, I'll marry him."

If seven years of marriage only brought betrayal, she was done with it. Wiping away her tears, she geared up to contact a lawyer and draft her own divorce agreement.

Just then, her phone pinged with an anonymous text: [Come to Vista Mansion. I've got a show you'll want to see.]