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Three years of marriage. Three miscarriages. The day Stella Rowan lost her baby for the third time, Evan Wright was at the hospital with his sister-in-law, waiting for her to give birth to twins. When Stella walked out of the hospital, she finally made her decision. She handed her soon-to-be ex-husband a divorce agreement. “Let’s divorce. It’s for your own good.” “Divorce?” Evan scoffed. “You really think you can let go? And if you’re trying to hold on to me, don’t dress it up as doing me a favor. That fake concern is pathetic.” Stella just smiled. She didn’t argue. She turned and walked away. She really was doing it for his sake. After all, she’d found a new backer. Even though Evan sits atop Harbor City’s financial empire, he’s about to meet someone he can’t afford to cross. Once she cut ties with the past, Stella stopped pretending. One by one, her new identities came to light, leaving the Wright family completely stunned. Wasn’t she supposed to be the girl with no family backing, the easy target everyone bullied? A multinational CEO said, “Stella, get divorced already. I’ve waited long enough.” A financial tycoon declared, “Divorce. If you don’t, I’ll take the Wright family down.” An international lawyer smiled and said, “The divorce itself is easy. Stella, if you’d just look at me once, I’d have everything I need.” Evan had always believed Stella would never leave him. Not until the day he realized she had become someone far beyond his reach. In that moment, every assumption he’d ever made about her collapsed.

My CEO wife, Vivian Lynch, suffers from chronic insomnia and can only fall asleep with the pillow mists I make. At our seventh wedding anniversary dinner, her male best friend, Earl Cain, pours a basin of hot water onto the old cypress tree in the backyard. I rush to save the tree in tears. Earl gets on his knees and apologizes, "I'm sorry, Allen. I did not know that you use this tree's leaves to make the pillow mists." Vivian comforts him gently and orders her men to tie me to the trunk of the tree. She says with a scoff, "If this tree is so precious, then you can spend your life guarding it!" After I hurt my hands from this ordeal, the first thing I do is to demand a divorce. On one night a month later, Vivian, who is unable to sleep, goes to the backyard and sees the withered old cypress tree there.

I've stood before a priest and sworn my vows to the same man seven times. And for the seventh time, I've signed divorce papers in front of the family lawyer. At our first wedding, the youngest Capo of the Throne family held my hand and promised, "From this day forward, my life is yours and yours alone." But whenever his childhood sweetheart stirred up trouble and needed his protection, Carter's vow to me would conveniently become a sanctuary for her. "Tessa's in trouble again, Maeve. For your own safety, we have to get a divorce for now." The first time I was forced to divorce, I threatened him with the honor of our families' alliance, even vowing to expose his betrayal at a family gathering. His men dragged me out of the manor. The third time I signed the papers, I humbled myself, sneaking into the family's private club just to catch a glimpse of him from afar. By the sixth time, I had learned to quietly pack my few belongings in this house of lies, without putting up a fight. My breakdowns and desperate, undignified attempts to save us were only ever met with Carter's reliable promise to remarry me, just before another round of the divorce game he played for Tessa's sake. Until this time. After hearing Tessa was returning to New York from Italy, I didn't wait for Carter to speak. I placed the signed divorce papers in his study myself. Just like always, he casually set a date for our remarriage. But he didn't know that day was the day I would disappear from his world forever.

After I landed a five-million-dollar contract and saved the company from financial collapse, my CEO wife wrapped me in an excited embrace and said she wanted to have a baby with me. She took out her phone and showed me a virtual baby on an app she had just signed up for. "Look, honey," she said. "Isn't it adorable? You can even change how it looks. Do you like it? Once things settle down at the company, we can have a real one." That night, I came across a post by her male secretary on social media. It was a photo of a positive pregnancy test, with my wife's figure visible in the background. I did not comment. I just liked the post. When my wife noticed, she panicked and called me immediately. "Honey, it's not what you think. Please listen to me! I wanted to surprise you. The baby is yours! "Can you clear things up on social media for everyone? I promise I'll give you a child of your own soon." She insisted the baby was mine, yet she seemed to have forgotten that we had not shared a bed in six months. "End the pregnancy," I said. "We're finished."

I was cleaning up the house on the second day after my wife went for a business trip. I casually instructed the smart speaker. “Smart, play some music.” However, I heard a husky, strange male voice. “Sure. I’m the Sun that loves you. Plus, Lindy, I would like to remind you not to forget about your birthday surprise for Sam tonight.” I stiffened and found the music particularly annoying. Linda Clark was my wife, but I had no idea who Sam was. I immediately called my wife. “Did you use the smart speaker at home?” Linda paused for a moment before she laughed indifferently. “Oh, my friend visited me a few days ago. She might have connected her account to it. What’s wrong?” I laughed and told her it was nothing. After hanging up, I found the login record of the speaker and hailed a cab. I headed straight to the registered company associated with the unfamiliar account on the record.

I arrived at yet another family gathering to see Declan Mercer's assistant sitting in my seat. I turned to him. "She's sitting in the hostess's seat. Do you really have nothing to say?" He looked at me like I was wasting his time. "You showed up late, so don't blame her for taking your spot. There's an empty seat right there. You can sit there, or you can get out." I was about to respond when Declan's inner voice flooded my head. "Come on, babe. Get mad already. "Tell me you need me. Tell me you want to sit next to me. "Prove to me that you love me. That's the only way I'll feel secure." This time, I did not give his inner voice what it wanted. I simply looked down and slid the ring off my finger. "If there isn't a place for me at this table, then I suppose I'm not needed here anymore. "Let's get a divorce."