Chapter 2

I looked down again and noticed that Abigail had already pocketed her phone and was walking away with Ethan. They walked hand-in-hand with interlocked fingers, the rings on their fingers looking unexpectedly well-suited and eye-catching.

I then looked at my phone and accepted the two friend requests on my social media. Their profile pictures matched perfectly with the one Abigail had recently switched to; before that, her profile picture had always been a photo of me.

Those brash young men weren't polite at all. "You've already divorced Abigail, so you need to pack up, clean the place, and be out by the end of the day."

They had no idea that, because she felt guilty, Abigail had allocated 80% of the assets to me in the divorce agreement—including the villa we were living in.

I casually highlighted the clause in the agreement and sent it to them, asking, "You should have seen the divorce agreement, right?"

There was no reply from them after that.

…

I didn't have much to take with me, so one suitcase was enough to pack nearly everything.

I had just gone downstairs when I noticed Abigail curled up on the couch, though I didn't know when she had returned. I walked straight over to pour a glass of water, grabbed her stomach medication, and walked over to her.

Abigail suddenly lunged up and slapped me hard across the face. "You've gone too far, Christian! Who said you could forward our divorce agreement to them? I've explained this to you countless times—they're just temporary entertainment! They won't be able to threaten your position in my heart!

"I'll obviously return to our marriage once I've had my fun. What exactly are you throwing a tantrum over? You ought to know that people in our social circle all have a few male companions on the side—even your mother…"

I glared fixedly at her as my eyes turned bloodshot.

Abigail's voice softened as she stepped forward to hold me close, saying, "I've only ever committed to you ever since we got married, Christian. How can you doubt my love for you?

"You should be obedient for now. You can rest assured that after this time, I'll spend the rest of my life staying faithful to you and only you, Christian."

I suddenly recalled how years ago Abigail, the notoriously flirtatious heiress of Bellvoria, had spent three whole years pursuing me. She told me that I'd be the only one for her in this life, and she promised to protect my family and me with her very life.

I believed her back then, but hearing it now did absolutely nothing to me. I couldn't help but wonder when all that trust had eroded into nothing.

It started when Ethan and Owen went missing for the first time. Abigail actually logged into my account in the company group chat to make a public declaration of love to coax them to return, making me the butt of the joke among everyone we knew.

I was cornered by reporters the following day, left completely helpless and alone under the flashing cameras.

It happened again during our anniversary when she abandoned me to go on a risky, high-altitude stunt for her lovers, leaving me completely on my own to face her family's accusations that I didn't care about my wife's safety.

It was the 101 calls for help that she hung up on while she was out having fun at the amusement park with Ethan and Owen.

Just because I shared the same blood type as Ethan and Owen, Abigail had forced me to donate blood against my will, which triggered severe anemia and ruined our chances of trying for a pregnancy—only for her to turn around and blame me for being incompetent.

It happened the day before she handed me the divorce agreement. She had pulled all the medical experts away for Ethan and Owen, leaving no one to care for Dad. He was all the family I had, and he died because there was no one there to save him.

…

I was trembling all over, the water still drenching my clothes, while Abigail was still embracing me, my senses filled with a perfume she had never previously used.

I turned my head away and caught sight of a string of numbers tattooed near her collarbone—it was the number for Ethan and Owen's birthday, which happened to be the day Dad died.

I recalled Dad's final words on his deathbed and quietly backed out of her embrace.

Abigail simply slipped a check for 12 million dollars into my hand and said, "Ethan and Owen had taken a liking to this villa, so you should move out for the time being, Christian."

"Alright," I murmured as I took the check from her. I then handed her the stomach medication.

Abigail's expression warmed up as she reached out to take my hand. "C-Christian—"

Just then, a series of sharp, agonizing yelps echoed from outside—it was my dog, Sparky.

I rushed out in a frantic blur and saw Ethan and Owen repeatedly kicking Sparky, who was lying helplessly on the ground, barely clinging to life.

I shoved the two of them away with all my might, my tears completely spilling over. "Sparky! Sparky!"

Sparky was on the verge of death, yet he still made an effort to wag his tail when he saw me.

Ethan and Owen just stood there watching indifferently. "It turns out it's your dog, huh? We figured it was just a stray that snuck into our place. Why haven't you packed up yet? Didn't Abigail tell you?"

I rose to my feet and slapped Ethan hard across the face, but in the next instant, a slap came down on my face.