Chapter 2

Willow clenched the bedsheet. Her fingertips left behind a mess of wrinkles.

Even at a time like this, she found herself wondering if Catherine didn't satisfy Julian. Otherwise, why would he bother wasting time kissing her tonight instead of going straight to the point?

Willow felt nothing other than disgust.

So, she simply lay there like a plank, letting him do whatever he wanted. No matter how hard he tried, he wasn't getting a child out of her anyway.

At first, Julian was aroused by the seductive Willow in her loosened bathrobe. But now, she just lay there like a lifeless plank on the sheets.

Even the most eager man would find it uninspiring.

What a mood killer.

Sweat clung to the tips of Julian's hair. With a flushed face, he asked in a husky voice, "What's wrong? Not in the mood anymore?"

They didn't sleep together often, but it still happened a few times a month. Those were his attempts to plant an heir in her womb.

Willow lay on the white pillow, staring up at the man she had been with for four long years.

She was exhausted. For once, she wanted to live for herself.

But Julian didn't know that. He kept questioning why she refused to be intimate with him and why she wouldn't cooperate in giving him a legitimate heir to help him secure more power.

Willow reached out, gently tracing her fingers along his face. In a soft voice, she said, "Julian, let's get a divorce."

His expression darkened, but he forced himself to stay calm. "Is this because of Catherine? I've already told you. She's just a respected elder's daughter. You don't want her staying there, so I've already arranged for her to move elsewhere."

Willow let out a sneer.

A respected elder's daughter who needed to be kept in a private villa? Who had to be held so intimately when they walked together?

Willow didn't even bother arguing. It was beneath her.

Instead, she pulled open the nightstand drawer and took out a divorce agreement. Shoving it into his hands, she said in a light tone, "I want half of Nebula Group's shares in addition to the bank savings and real estate."

Julian frowned. "Half of Nebula Group's shares? That's a bit greedy, don't you think, Mrs. Ziegler?"

There was sarcasm in his voice, the same sharpness he used in business negotiations.

Willow's heart turned to ice.

Julian would never know that by taking that hit for him, she had lost her chance to ever become a mother. But she wasn't about to mention it. It would only sound pathetic.

She had never regretted loving or hating him. She had given everything freely, and now she was ready to walk away just as easily.

Willow leaned against the headboard. Her fair face looked gentle.

She considered things from Julian's perspective. "If we get divorced, you can finally give your beloved a legitimate title. And I will take my shares and leave. That's a happy ending for everyone."

She looked completely serious.

That was when Julian finally realized that this wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment tantrum. She had planned this.

As he looked at her, his dark eyes deepened, as if he could devour her whole.

For a long time, he said nothing. Then his voice dropped to an icy edge. "Forget it, Willow. That's never happening. We're business partners. You know that as well as I do."

Oh, she knew.

But now? She didn't want to play along anymore.

When she didn't respond, Julian grew irritated. He got up, threw on a robe, and headed for the guest room.

He felt that Willow just needed time to cool down. By morning, she would likely find herself enjoying the feeling of being Mrs. Ziegler again, along with the thrill of being second in command at Nebula Group.

Julian sneered inwardly. Willow had always been like that.

Behind him, Willow's voice came softly, almost a whisper. It sounded almost like the timid Willow from four years ago. "Let's part on good terms, Julian. I really don't want to be with you anymore."

Julian's body stiffened.

After a long pause, he walked back to the bed and spoke softly, "You knew, from the moment you married me, that there is no love in the Ziegler family. I won't love you. And you'd better not expect it either. It won't make your life any easier."

With a flick of his wrist, the divorce papers scattered to the floor like falling snow.

…

At 8:00 am, Julian walked down the stairs, dressed in a perfectly tailored black-and-white suit. Every inch of fabric hugged his lean, powerful frame. He exuded effortless elegance.

His mood had been fine. That was, until he walked into the empty dining room.

Lifting his coffee cup, he asked the maid casually, "Where's Willow?"

They had argued loudly last night, the noise echoing through the house. Even the maids knew about it. The maid replied cautiously, "Mrs. Ziegler left for work early this morning."

Julian slammed his coffee cup down with a heavy thud.

He suddenly lost his appetite.

30 minutes later, he arrived at Nebula Group in his car. His secretary, Esther Barker, was already waiting at the parking lot.

The black Bentley came to a stop. Esther opened the car door and immediately briefed Julian on the day's meetings. As Julian walked, he buttoned up his suit jacket. His every move exuded masculine charm, causing several female employees to sneak glances.

The two of them stepped into the private elevator.

Esther paused, then lowered her voice. "Ms. Harper has suddenly placed her people in Project Aurelia."

Julian glanced at the glowing red numbers on the panel.

After a while, he chuckled. "Looks like she's growing bolder."

…

During the meeting, Julian and Willow clashed in a heated debate.

They were married, and Willow's business tactics were ones Julian had personally taught her. Watching them clash now was truly something to behold. The executives at Nebula Group were getting their money's worth in entertainment.

By the time the meeting ended, the sun was already setting.

Back in her office, Willow collapsed onto the leather couch, rubbing her temples.

A dull headache throbbed at her skull, making her feel drained. She let down her long hair, letting it fall in loose waves.

Annie set a glass of water on the table and whispered, "Mr. Ziegler's personal attorney called. He'd like to meet you downstairs in the café. Do you want to go?"

Willow raised an eyebrow. "Jeffrey Gibson?"

Jeffrey Gibson was one of the top lawyers in the country. His firm, Gibson Legal Group, was an industry leader.

More importantly, he was Julian's hidden hand. If Julian had something inconvenient to handle, Jeffrey handled it for him.

They were more than business associates. Their interests were deeply intertwined.

Julian could divorce Willow, but he would never burn bridges with Jeffrey.

Sending him meant one thing—Julian didn't want the divorce to become public knowledge.

After a moment's thought, Willow agreed.

…

Ten minutes later, she took the private elevator down to the café on the first floor.

Jeffrey sat by the window, dressed in a tailored three-piece suit that highlighted his tall, broad frame. His features were sharp, with a habitual expression of sternness.

Upon hearing Willow's footsteps, he looked up at her.

In his typically unreadable eyes, a flicker of surprise showed.

This wasn't the Willow he remembered.

In Jeffrey's memory, she was always impeccably dressed in expensive suits, standing by Julian's side with flawless composure as they navigated the cutthroat business world. But everyone in their circle knew that Julian didn't love Willow. His heart belonged to someone else.

But Willow looked different today.

She had changed into a comfortable, lightweight knit sweater that clung just slightly to her frame. Her sleek hair, with a subtle curl, fell loosely over her shoulders, looking soft.

Just as Jeffrey was mesmerized by her beauty, she sat across from him and asked coldly, "Julian sent you?"

Jeffrey regained his usual calm composure.

He took a document from his briefcase and gently pushed it toward Willow. "Mrs. Ziegler, according to this prenup, if you insist on divorcing, you won't get much out of it."

Willow flipped through the pages. When she flipped to the last page, she paused for a moment. A flicker of surprise crossed her face.

Four years ago, Julian had kept a trump card hidden.

Willow stared at the document for a long time before finally saying, "Even if I get nothing, I still want a divorce. And Jeffrey, don't call me Mrs. Ziegler anymore. Just call me Willow."

After dealing with so many celebrity divorce cases, Jeffrey had become completely detached.

He picked up his cup and took a sip of his coffee. "Why now? I thought you loved Julian. Affairs happen all the time in our world."

Willow turned away, laughing bitterly.

Everyone knew she loved Julian, but Julian himself. Or maybe he knew. He just didn't care.

At that moment, Willow exuded a fragile kind of beauty. One that, in Jeffrey's eyes, was more likely to make a man want to possess her than even Catherine.

As he was contemplating this, the café door swung open, and a tall figure walked toward them.

It was none other than Julian.

As soon as he entered, he saw Jeffrey staring intently at Willow like he was lost in thought.

Suddenly, Julian felt a discomfort rise in his chest.