I prepared the divorce agreement.

Ayden did not sign it and avoided the villa for a long time, as if running away.

Every other day without fail, I sent him the divorce agreement.

He still did not sign.

Ayden acted as if he had given up caring.

From then on, his name and Claire's began appearing prominently in various gossip news.

The heir to the Martin Group, known for zero scandals, now had a beautiful confidante by his side.

It became a favorite topic in high society.

No matter the occasion, if Ayden was there, Claire was too.

The news headlines shifted from initial surprised speculation to ambiguous conclusions.

Ayden was in love with his pretty secretary rising in status.

I smiled and turned off the screen.

After that, Sophia sought me out, behaving unusually. "I know you're pushing for divorce because of some little secretary. But you know better than I do what kind of man Ayden is. He carries the entire Martin Group on his shoulders. Some casual flirting outside is normal. As long as it doesn't shake your position, turn a blind eye. It's better for everyone."

Obedience had been my shackle during these five years in the Martin family.

In plain terms, the family needed a compliant and sensible mistress like me.

I smiled and withdrew my hand. "Sophia, I'm tired."

The smile on Sophia's face faded a bit. She only asked me to think it over.

Even if just to bring Ayden back first.

Family reputation mattered more than anything. She wanted me to publicly put out the fire.

I had no choice.

As soon as I entered the private room, the lively atmosphere froze.

Ayden sat in the center, with two buttons of his shirt undone.

Even after knowing him for seven or eight years, I had never seen him look so lazily disheveled.

Claire had some real skill.

Ayden looked up, a flash of surprise in his eyes.

"Hey, the wife is here?" Someone spoke up first.

All eyes focused on me.

Curious, amused, gloating.

Claire let out a soft "ah," her face showing awkwardness and unease. "Mr. Martin, has Miss Fuller misunderstood something... Should I leave first?"

She picked up her handbag and pretended to go, but Ayden grabbed her wrist and pressed her back onto the sofa.

He looked at me with interest. "Why are you here?"

I walked up to him, ignoring the others' gazes. "Sophia sent me. The recent news about you isn't looking good. She hopes you'll be more discreet and come home soon."

Ayden sneered and pulled Claire closer. "Telling me to be discreet. Ella, weren't you the one pushing for divorce just days ago? Now what standing do you have to say these things to me?"

Ayden's words were like ice picks, seemingly trying to pierce my calm.

Unfortunately, he would be disappointed. "Say whatever you want. I've delivered the message. If you want to keep playing, then keep playing. As for the divorce, the agreement is valid anytime."

My indifference seemed to enrage Ayden.

He suddenly swept the glass in front of him to the floor and stood up, walking toward me.

He spoke through gritted teeth. "Ella, it's just casual flirting. But you? Have you really stopped caring at all?"

I met his intense gaze and asked softly. "Ayden, have you ever cared?"

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

I no longer looked at him and turned to leave the private room.

After a few steps, hurried footsteps followed behind me.

It was Claire.

She caught up and stepped in front of me.

Then she held up her phone screen, showing a list of visitor records on her video page. "All the views on my video came from you, Miss Fuller, right? Why bother? Pretending to act like you don't care at all, but secretly watching so closely. Aren't you tired?"

I looked at her and suddenly remembered that when I was still struggling with bit parts, I used to dress like that too.

Since I stayed silent, she seemed even more certain. "I know what kind of man Ayden is. He is disciplined and proud, never allowing anyone to overstep. But now he breaks his rules for me. You know that clearly, don't you? Why do you still cling on and refuse to step aside?"

I waited quietly for her to finish, then smiled softly. "Is that so? That's great then."

Claire froze, apparently not expecting this reaction.

I paused, then continued. "Then go make him divorce me. See if he listens to you."

The color drained from Claire's face.

She forced herself to stay calm and said. "We'll see about that. Let's see if he chooses me or you, the worn-out wife."

After Claire left, my alternate account got a notification that she and I had mutually followed each other.

Ayden still did not agree to the divorce afterward.

A few days later, Claire sent me a message.

No text, just a photo.

The lighting was dim, with a rough wall in the background.

The shooting angle vaguely captured a corner of a familiar floral tablecloth, the one my mother loved most before she passed.

My heart sank sharply.

Immediately after, a second message popped up. "Miss Fuller, guess where we are? Ayden said this place holds some sentimental value."

Sentimental value?

A chill instantly crawled up my spine.

Before I could react, a third message followed. "Ayden told me this is the old house where you and your aunt lived together back then. Oh dear, why keep this old and rundown place? I think Ayden should just have the building demolished."

That basement was my shelter during my lowest times and the place where my mother spent her final days.

Everything inside, though cheap and worn, I had carefully preserved. It was the most sacred corner in my heart that no one could defile.

Ayden clearly knew that, yet now he brought Claire there.

He even allowed her to take photos and encouraged her to send me messages commenting and planning.

My fingers trembled uncontrollably. "Get out of there!"

I could almost picture Claire nestled against Ayden.

Gloating and curiously examining that small space, freely pointing at the last remnants my mother left me.

I stared hard at the screen, but there was no reply for a long time.

I gritted my teeth and typed another message. "Did you hear me? Get out! Don't pollute the place where my mom rests!"

After the message sent, a video call request immediately popped up.

It was from Ayden.

I stared at the bouncing avatar and pressed accept.

On the screen, it was indeed that familiar corner of the room.

The camera first swept over Claire, then turned aside.

Ayden leaned against the old desk, toying with a cheap ceramic mug in his hand.

He did not look at the camera and spoke lazily to the person beside him. "See, I told you. This is the one thing she can't stand."

Then, he slowly turned his face to look at me on the other end of the screen.

He faced me, curled his lips, and said word by word. "Ella, do you still dare to mention divorce?"

The moment the video cut off, I grabbed my keys and rushed out the door.

The entrance to the old building felt like a familiar scar.

The smell of cheap perfume mixed with mold wafted from the slightly open door.

I pushed it open.

Claire stood with her back to the door, holding a tube of lipstick, about to reach for my mother's photo on the table.

"Stop!"

She jumped and turned around, the lipstick falling to the ground.

I charged forward and slapped her across the face with all my strength.

She staggered, knocking over clutter, and clutched her cheek while looking at me in terror.

Tears poured from my eyes uncontrollably. "Who gave you permission to touch anything here! Who let you come in!"

I pointed at Ayden, who had just stood up from the shadows. "Take her and get out! Disappear from my mom's sight!"

I grabbed whatever I could reach and hurled it at them wildly.

"Ella!" Ayden seized my wrist, panic in his voice for the first time. "Calm down! I didn't..."

"You didn't what?" I struggled, glaring at him through blurred tears. "Ayden! Do you think this is fun? Does it prove you won, prove you can easily control me?"

"I didn't mean it that way..." His face paled as he tried to explain.

"Get out!" I wrenched free and stood protectively in front of the memorial tablet, shaking all over. "Get out right now!"

He looked at my breaking face, then stiffly pulled the sobbing Claire toward the door.

The door closed.

I slid to the floor and sobbed aloud.

Once, I had held my mother's portrait and told her I had found someone to rely on.

Now, that same reliance brought another woman to disturb her peace.

I had been wrong.

I stayed in that dark, sunless old building for half a month.

In the middle of the night, the cold woke me.

There was no heating, and the late autumn chill seeped into my bones.

I curled up and instinctively reached toward the warm heat source beside me.

There was only icy emptiness.

I snapped my eyes open.

Under the dim yellow bulb, I was alone.

My phone suddenly vibrated.

It was a message from Sophia, short and direct. "He signed the agreement."

I stared at it for a long time, then silently turned off the screen and began packing my mother's belongings.

But before I left, Claire's revenge arrived.

Blurry photos from my early days as a minor actress—at shady parties and half-exposed—were carefully compiled into a long post that exploded online.

The title was eye-catching. "Digging into Mrs. Martin's Scandalous Past: From Lowly Starlet to Abandoned Wife."

The scandal spread instantly.

Even when I went to the convenience store, strangers recognized me right away.

Their unabashed comments drifted into my ears.

"That's her, right? Looks so aloof, but she used to be wild."

"No wonder an unknown little star caught Mr. Martin's eye. She has some seductive talent."

"I heard her mom was... tsk tsk, like mother like daughter."

I pretended not to hear, picked my items calmly, and left.

I took a cab to the Martin Group building.

I waited for Ayden right at the lounge door where everyone could see.

Soon, Ayden appeared on time.

I knew he spotted the printed screenshots of the web pages at a glance.

He opened his mouth as if to say something.

Claire, following behind, interrupted him.

She smiled and approached Ayden, but he yanked her away without a word.

The hall echoed with Claire's cries. "Ayden, I didn't do it!"

But no one believed her.

Her ambition to become Mrs. Martin had always been out in the open.

That same evening, she came to find me. "Ella, are you satisfied? Ayden actually scolded me over your pathetic past! But even if I didn't post those photos, I'm glad they came out! I saw them too—half-naked. Who are you pretending to be pure for? Let me tell you, it's not me crossing the line. Ayden allowed me to."

I looked at her face calmly. "Finished?"

As I moved to close the door, she suddenly blocked it. "Guess what, if something happened to both of us. Like if this rundown place caught fire, who would he save?"

I called her a lunatic and slammed the door shut.

I thought it was just an empty threat, but I underestimated Claire's madness.

In the night, thick smoke choked me awake.

I rushed to the door but recoiled from the scorching heat.

Outside, Claire's heartbreaking cries rang out.

Through the flames, I saw Ayden.

He quickly stripped off his coat, seeming ready to cover his head and rush in.

To save me, or Claire?

I soon learned the answer.

Outside the window, Ayden carried Claire and hurried away.

The moment his resolute back vanished into the fire, I closed my eyes, and my last lingering attachment dissolved with the heat.

Ayden, we were even.

I removed the wedding ring from my finger and threw it into the blaze.

Then I ran without hesitation in the opposite direction from where Ayden had gone.