After their conversation, Shermaine quickly made an excuse to rest and left the room with swift steps.

Ezra watched her retreating figure, his mind replaying the strange look she had given him moments ago.

A wave of unease washed over him, but he quickly pushed the feeling aside.

Ezra was certain that Shermaine loved him deeply, that even that cold, aloof woman would get jealous.

A few years ago, if he had even exchanged a few words with one of his assistants, Shermaine would sulk for days, ignoring him completely.

If she had discovered what was going on between him and Melanie, she wouldn't be so cold. He was confident that, with her love for him, she would have reacted very differently.

His phone buzzed again. It was another message from Melanie, begging him to take her to his house.

Ezra's handsome face darkened, and just as he was about to lash out in anger, a new message from Melanie appeared on the screen.

The message contained a provocative picture—on a white bedspread, she wore a sexy outfit with black stockings, posing suggestively.

Melanie had a sweet, innocent face but a body that was intoxicating, like a poppy—addictive and dangerous.

Ezra didn't send the scolding message he had been preparing.

Instead, he swallowed hard before speaking in a low, husky voice as he recorded a reply, "Melanie, I'll agree, but just this once. After this, you need to understand your place. You shouldn't interrupt my life with Shermaine."

When Shermaine was discharged from the hospital, she realized with a shock that she only had a few days before she had to report to the research institute.

Back at home, Ezra had done exactly what he had promised—he had decorated the house ahead of time.

It was filled with all of her favorite things—plants, pink balloons, and cartoon characters.

Instead of the cold and aloof version of him that everyone knew, Ezra was acting like a child, constantly asking her, "Shermaine, do you like it? Is there anything you don't like? Just tell me and I'll fix it."

For the first time in a while, Shermaine smiled. Ezra, thrilled by her reaction, immediately moved in to kiss her.

Just as their lips were about to meet, Shermaine gently pushed him away.

"I need to freshen up first."

She quickly made her way to the bathroom, the smile fading from her face. Her eyes became empty, tired.

When she looked up, her gaze fell on something out of place on the countertop—a small bottle of cosmetics that wasn't hers.

The sample had clearly been used quite a bit, meaning its owner had been staying here for a few days.

That wasn't all. As Shermaine stood there, her senses sharpened. A sickly sweet perfume lingered in the air, and she realized with a jolt that it wasn't her scent—she didn't wear perfume.

Shermaine stood there for what felt like forever, tears falling without warning.

She had never imagined that her life would be in such shambles.

Shermaine wasn't naive—she knew this was all Melanie's doing. It was a deliberate provocation, a declaration of possession.

Shermaine quickly regained her composure and opened the bathroom door. Then she grabbed two bottles of red wine and went to find Ezra.

Pretending like nothing was wrong, she smiled sweetly at him.

"Ezra, how about we have a drink tonight?"

Ezra didn't answer immediately, likely still deciding whether to meet with Melanie later.

But Shermaine's unexpected gentleness softened his heart, and he agreed.

A few glasses of wine later, Ezra, normally able to hold his liquor, had flushed cheeks. He clung to Shermaine, repeating over and over how much he loved her.

Shermaine, calm and collected, pulled out the divorce papers from her bag. In a gentle tone, she coaxed him.

"Ezra, I love you too. Come on. Be a good boy and sign the papers."

Ezra, like a puppet with no will of its own, complied.

Once he had signed the divorce agreement, Shermaine stood up slowly, showing no mercy. With a gentle push, she sent the dazed Ezra tumbling to the floor.

Shermaine smiled as tears blurred her vision.

She retrieved the prepared gift box and began placing one item after another inside.

One, two, three, four, five...

Each piece was neatly arranged before the box was packaged nicely.

She gazed down at the unconscious Ezra on the floor, her eyes devoid of warmth.

With a light voice, she spoke, "Ezra, don't blame me. I'm just returning the favor. You could drug me—why couldn't I do the same?"

The next morning, Ezra woke up feeling an odd weakness throughout his body. However, as he lay there, everything seemed fine. Shermaine simply told him it was because he'd had too much to drink the night before.

On the table beside him was a beautifully wrapped box. Ezra's curiosity piqued, but Shermaine, looking a little embarrassed, explained, "That's your anniversary gift. Don't open it yet. Wait until tonight when you get back."

Ezra felt a warmth in his heart as he pulled her into his arms, a rare trace of guilt flashing in his eyes. He spoke softly, "Shermaine, after this week, I'll take you abroad for a month. We'll get away and clear our minds."

Shermaine gave a brief nod before quickly pulling herself from his embrace. "Hurry up. We're going to be late."

At the foot of the mountain, as they were getting out of the car, a high-pitched, sweet voice called out, "Ms. Stout, Mr. Yarbrough, what a coincidence! You two are here too!"

They turned to see Melanie, surrounded by a group of students from the project Shermaine was leading, resting at the base of the mountain. Shermaine's expression immediately turned cold, but she didn't move, instead watching Ezra's face closely. As expected, the usually composed Ezra was clearly uncomfortable. His lips were pressed tight, his eyes flickering with unease.

Ezra immediately grasped Shermaine's hand. "Shermaine, let's go up the mountain first."

But Melanie was quicker. She dashed over and blocked their path, flashing a seemingly innocent smile, but her gaze never left Ezra. "Ms. Stout, since we've run into each other, how about we all hike together? It's like team-building, right? It's better to enjoy it with others than alone, don't you think?"

Despite her words, Melanie was inching closer to Ezra.

Everyone else was dressed in warm hiking gear, but Melanie was different. Her jacket was purposely unzipped to reveal the curve of her sports bra, and her thin yoga pants clung to her long, toned legs—her body undeniably attractive in a way that would catch any man's eye.

Ezra hesitated for a moment, his eyes momentarily shifting.

Shermaine watched her, thinking back to when she had first met Melanie three years ago. At the time, Melanie had been struggling with financial issues, unable to afford the cost of continuing her master's program. One of the professors had offered to sponsor her. But Shermaine soon learned that this professor was far from innocent—he was a predator, exploiting many of his students.

Most of those victimized by him had to keep silent, fearing his power. Those who spoke out faced harsh consequences: They might not graduate or, worse, suffer a ruined reputation.

Shermaine had felt sorry for Melanie, unwilling to let the young Melanie be ruined by a despicable man. She had taken a risk of angering the professor to help her, funding her education and even bringing her into her project team. She had thought it was a genuine act of kindness. But now, it seemed she'd only raised a snake in the grass.

Shermaine didn't blame Melanie—she knew well that Ezra's nature meant their marriage would have problems even without Melanie's interference. She only blamed herself for not seeing it sooner.

Noticing the coldness in Shermaine's gaze, Melanie recoiled slightly. She then edged behind Ezra, speaking in an exaggerated, pitiful tone, "Ms. Stout, why are you glaring at me? Is it really such a big deal for us to hike together? Do you really dislike me that much?"

Ezra, clearly irritated, moved aside, pulling Shermaine closer to him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, his face dark as he scolded, "What's up with your tone? Don't you have any manners?"

Around them, some students chimed in teasingly.

"Ms. Stout and Mr. Yarbrough are so perfect together. It's too much to handle!"

"I envy Ms. Stout for having such a great husband!"

"Did you see how Mr. Yarbrough immediately stepped away when Melanie got close? He has such a strong sense of boundaries."

Shermaine listened to the chatter, almost letting out a bitter laugh. If she hadn't witnessed the passionate, tangled scene between Melanie and Ezra with her own eyes, she might have been fooled by their charade today.

Melanie pouted and muttered under her breath, "I guess we're being the third wheel today."

Her words were light, but Shermaine could sense the underlying truth in them. She had clearly seen the flash of jealousy and disdain in Melanie's eyes just moments before.

Melanie turned to her with a playful wink. "Ms. Stout, it's just a hike. You don't mind, right? There's a group of us here," she said, signaling her friends to chime in.

"Yeah, come on, Ms. Stout. Let us join you!" one of them said.

"We promise not to disturb you and Mr. Yarbrough. We'll just be hiking together. You're the nicest person in the world, Ms. Stout!"

Ezra barely suppressed a scoff. They were piling on the compliments, making it impossible for her to say no.

It was clear to Shermaine why Melanie had shown up today. There was no such thing as coincidence, not when she was involved.

Even Ezra, who usually kept his cool, spoke up in a tone that sounded almost too considerate. "Since we've run into each other, let's just go together. They're your students, after all. It wouldn't be right to ignore them. I'll cover everything, and I promise they won't be a bother."

Shermaine felt a sharp pang in her heart, but her face remained calm. She smiled lightly, her eyes carrying a depth of meaning. "Alright, then."

Out of sight from the others, her fingers curled into a tight fist, the pressure causing her fingertips to turn white.

The group made their way up the mountain, chatting and laughing along the way. Shermaine, however, kept her attention fixed on Melanie and Ezra.

All throughout the hike, Melanie did everything she could to get closer to Ezra. Every time she did, Ezra put on an act of annoyance, his lips tight as though he might snap at any moment. He was avoiding her like the plague.

Shermaine couldn't help but find his efforts laughable. His feigned irritation didn't fool her.

When they finally sat down to rest, Melanie slid over to Shermaine, the sickly-sweet scent of her perfume invading the air. It was the same perfume Shermaine had noticed in her bathroom at home.

"Ms. Stout," Melanie cooed, "I've been using this new skincare product lately. It works wonders, and I thought you might want to try it. After all, you're almost thirty, right? Better start an anti-aging regime before it's too late."

The sarcasm in her voice was unmistakable.

Shermaine's heart tightened with a pang of hurt. She glanced up to see that Melanie was holding the very sample of skincare she had found in her bathroom. The smug, satisfied smile on Melanie's face was all too clear.

Shermaine didn't let her get her way. With a cold, indifferent tone, she replied, "Is that something to be proud of?"

But Melanie wasn't deterred. She leaned in closer, lowering her voice. "Actually, I saw you peeking at the bar that night."

The words hit Shermaine like a slap in the face. The walls she had so carefully built around her vulnerability began to crack, exposing the raw wounds she had kept buried for so long.

Her breath caught in her throat, and her eyes began to sting with tears she refused to shed.

Melanie continued, enjoying every moment of Shermaine's discomfort, "The truth is, Ezra and I have been together for a while now. He loves me. He can't get enough of me, always wanting to be with me every night. You know what he told me? He said you're like a corpse in bed. It's only with me that he can feel alive, feel passion. And while you were in the hospital, I was making love to him in your bed every day. Ezra was the one who took me back there. I'm sure you'll be surprised to learn that he created the department for Yarbrough International's partnership with our group just for me. The team knows. They even call me Mrs. Yarbrough behind your back."

She leaned in closer, her voice dripping with malicious glee. "So, tell me, Shermaine, what are you even holding on to? If I were you, with everyone lying to me and turning their backs on me, I wouldn't have the courage to go on. But here you are, more shameless than I anticipated. I suggest you leave before you embarrass yourself any further."