Hildegarde couldn't understand it. How could a man who spent his days puttering around the kitchen, hovering over his daughter, and orbiting her life possibly have such keen financial instincts?

How had he quietly become the Pruitt Group's second-largest shareholder, right after her, without anyone noticing?

She had forgotten that before their marriage, the man standing before her had been hailed by countless people as a prodigy—someone who could "perceive the seed before it sprouted and see the future before it arrived."

"Daddy's bullying Mommy! Daddy's a bad guy!"

Hilary came running in like a gust of wind, bracing herself with her small hands as she charged forward.

She rammed her head hard against Wilfred's thigh.

Her little cheeks puffed out like a balloon.

"Daddy, can't you be more considerate? Mommy works so hard, and you don't do anything at all. Now you want to take Mommy's money? That's wrong!"

"Daddy is a bad guy. I don't want you as my daddy anymore!"

"Get out of my house!"

His eldest daughter's childish voice struck Wilfred like a hammer blow to the chest.

Every breath burned.

But he said nothing. He gently moved Hilary aside and reached out to touch the head of this daughter he had once adored beyond measure.

"Daddy isn't bullying Mommy. Daddy just wants to take what belongs to him."

"Wilfred, sure, you own fifteen percent of Pruitt Group shares. But investing behind Hildegarde's back? As spouses, hiding personal assets—that's on you!"

Patrick stepped up behind Hildegarde, one arm wrapping brazenly around her waist.

Hildegarde's brows drew together slightly, but she didn't push him away.

"Besides, even if those shares are in your name, you bought them after the wedding. That makes them marital property. You can't just walk off with them. Right, Hildegarde?"

Hildegarde remained silent, but her raised chin and arched eyebrows made it clear she agreed.

"Wilfred, with that many shares, that much money—do you really think you can handle it?"

Wilfred's gaze swept across the three people before him.

Looking at them now, they seemed more like a real family than he ever had.

How harmonious.

"Hildegarde..."

For the first time, he called her by her full name.

"Those fifteen percent are mine. Whether I can handle them or not isn't your concern."

"And I want those shares only to secure Penelope's future."

That was the truth. Wilfred had never intended to spend this money.

The fifteen percent was for Penelope.

A daughter deserved to be raised in comfort.

He refused to let anyone say that after coming to live with him, Penelope had gone from an heiress to a fallen phoenix.

Hildegarde's face turned to ice, her eyes filled with contempt. "How noble that sounds. You think I believe you? You invested in my company's stock behind my back. If I dig deep enough, I could easily argue that you stole insider information and manipulated Pruitt Group's stock price."

"You won't walk away with a single cent of that fifteen percent."

"Yeah! Not a single cent!" Hilary crossed her arms, her little lips jutting out in a pout.

After saying this, Hildegarde lifted her chin again, brows raised, wearing that signature look of cold control. "Wilfred, stop throwing tantrums."

"I don't want to—and I don't have time to—indulge your theatrics."

"If you're upset, take some time off. Use my supplementary card, go on vacation for a few days. Come back when you've calmed down."

Hildegarde felt she had given Wilfred more than enough of a way out.

If he had any sense, he would take the lifeline.

"Hildegarde, I'm sorry. I don't love you anymore."

Wilfred shook his head slowly.

He had loved this woman for five years. He had given up everything for her.

Revolving around her, around the children, around this family.

And what had it gotten him?

The moment her first love returned from abroad, she had cast him aside like a worn-out shoe.

He was done.

"Hildegarde, let's get divorced."

"You—"

Her breathing grew ragged. Her porcelain skin flushed red.

"Wilfred, do you actually think I can't live without you? That my life depends on you?"

"If you insist on going down this road, then fine—I'll grant your wish!"

"Just don't come crying to me later!"

Scratch, scratch, scratch...

Snatching up a pen, Hildegarde furiously scrawled her signature across the divorce agreement.

Crack!

She hurled the ballpoint pen at Wilfred's feet. It shattered on impact.

"Wilfred, I hope you don't regret this."

"I'd love to see how you survive without me."

Patrick watched the signed divorce papers, barely concealing his glee, though his voice dripped with mock sympathy. "Ah, Wilfred, I hate to say it, but you really are being unreasonable."

"Someone like you—marrying Hildegarde in this lifetime? That was karma from a past life."

"If it were me, getting to be with Hildegarde? I'd be laughing in my sleep."

Wilfred looked up at Patrick.

"Then you got your wish. I hope you two are happy together."

He had no interest in wasting words on a man like Patrick.

Crouching down, he took Hilary's small hand. "Hilary, Daddy's leaving now. If someday you miss me, tell Penelope. Daddy will come see you."

"Save your crocodile tears!"

Hildegarde scooped up Hilary, her face hard. "Hilary is my daughter. Don't pretend to be the good guy here. Without you, I'll make sure she's happier than ever."

"She'll never think of you!"

"And Penelope—if you miss Mommy, you can come home anytime."

"That's right, I won't miss Daddy. I have Patrick-Daddy, and that's enough." Hilary pouted in agreement.

"Daddy..."

Just then, Penelope's voice rang out. Her small face was already streaked with tears. "Daddy, let's go. I don't want to watch them bully you anymore!"

"Mommy!"

In that moment, the little face was filled with determination. "Mommy, Daddy will take good care of me. Mommy, you have stomach problems. Without Daddy here, remember to take your medicine when it hurts..."

"You always sleep in and need Daddy to squeeze toothpaste for you. After Daddy's gone, you'll have to learn to do it yourself."

"And Daddy says you shouldn't eat cold food. So eat less of it from now on."

When she finished, Penelope took Wilfred's hand. "Daddy, let's go."

"Okay."

Penelope's maturity was heartbreaking. Wilfred nodded slightly, lifted her into his arms, and held her small body tight.

Walking out through the Pruitt family's front gate, he paused at the threshold. Without looking back, he said, "Next week. Family Court."

"Don't miss this appointment."

"Hmph, this man is so dramatic! He has no real skills, yet he acts like such a diva. Without you, Hildegarde, even if he were sitting on a mountain of gold, he'd burn through it eventually."

Patrick sneered. "Hildegarde, the divorce is for the best. A man who only brings you negativity doesn't deserve you. From now on, I'll take Wilfred's place and look after you and Hilary."

As he spoke, Patrick studied Hildegarde's face—only to find it flushed red, her delicate fists clenched tight.

She looked absolutely furious.

"Hildegarde, are you angry?"

"Don't tell me you actually miss him?"

Patrick's expression darkened. "If you can't let him go, then go sweet-talk him. Coax him back and live your happy little life. I'll just disappear from both your lives so I don't interfere with your blissful marriage!"

His voice dripped with bitterness.

The jealousy was unmistakable.

Hildegarde glanced at Patrick, and her icy expression melted into one of indulgent affection. She took his hand with a smile. "Patrick, what nonsense are you saying? How could he ever compare to you?"

"You're my best friend!"

"Besides, me coax him? Who does he think he is?"

"Relax. He won't actually divorce me. This is all just a ploy to get my attention. Where else would he go if he left me?"

Hildegarde's lips curled into a cold smile.

Even now, she refused to believe Wilfred would actually go through with it.

This man had loved her for five years. For her sake, he'd abandoned his studies, given up his dreams—even turned down an invitation to join the most prestigious mathematics institute in the United States.

She was his everything.

Monday morning. Clear skies.

After dropping Penelope off at school, Wilfred drove to Family Court and waited for Hildegarde outside.

A light drizzle began to fall.

At quarter past ten, a black Porsche Panamera pulled up in front of the building.

Patrick and Hildegarde stepped out together.

Walking side by side, inseparable—they looked every bit the couple in love.

As if staking his claim, Patrick wrapped his arm around Hildegarde's waist right in front of Wilfred.

"Wilfred, you're here early."

Patrick's tone was thick with mockery.

Hildegarde looked at Wilfred, her eyes full of contempt. "Wilfred, I wonder how long you can keep up this act. You wanted a divorce, didn't you? Why aren't you going inside? Having second thoughts?"

Wilfred met her gaze calmly.

After everything he'd been through, his heart was still as water.

Her words no longer had the power to send his thoughts spiraling.

"ID and marriage certificate—you brought them?"

"Wilfred, you're really going through with this?!"

Hildegarde's eyes went wide, anger slowly building in them.

Wilfred simply turned and walked toward the entrance.

"Stop right there!"

A flash of panic crossed Hildegarde's face. She hurried after him and grabbed his hand. "Wilfred, I'll say this one last time. Come home with me now, and I'll pretend none of this ever happened."

"It's not too late to turn back."

Wilfred glanced over at Patrick, who stood nearby with a smug, challenging look on his face. Then he gently removed Hildegarde's hand from his.

"Let's go. You never loved me anyway. Staying together would only mean more suffering for both of us."

"I'm setting you free."

"You—!"

"...Fine. If you want a divorce, let's get divorced."

"Wilfred, I hope you don't regret this."

She spat the words out and stormed into the building.

The process was straightforward.

With the divorce agreement already prepared, there was no need for mediation. The cooling-off period had been waived. Within the hour, their marriage certificate had been split in two and replaced with divorce papers.

The moment Wilfred stepped outside, the drizzle stopped.

The sun broke through the clouds.

Patrick rushed over, beaming. "Congratulations, Hildegarde! A brand new life awaits."

He reached for her hand, but she shook him off before he could touch her.

Irritation flickered across her face, her eyes cold as frost. "Wilfred, even if you don't care about yourself, what about your daughter? Taking Penelope away from the Pruitt family will ruin her."

"Hilary's birthday—she had an allergic reaction, didn't she?"

Wilfred's expression turned cold.

"You knew?"

Hildegarde's face twisted with fury. "So you knew all along! You blocked my number just to watch me suffer, is that it?"

"Do you have any idea how dangerous that night was?"

"The doctor said if we'd been even a little later, Hilary could have gone into respiratory failure. She could have suffocated to death."

"Hildegarde..."

Wilfred spoke her full name again.

He looked at her and shook his head. "I didn't block your number. It was the other way around. The day you took Hilary to Phuket happened to be our wedding anniversary. I called you over a dozen times. You never picked up. The system flagged my number as spam and blacklisted it automatically."

"You're the one who blocked me."

Hildegarde froze.

It came back to her now. That day, she'd been rushing to catch a flight to Phuket to take care of Patrick, who had a cold. She hadn't had the patience to answer Wilfred's calls.

Wilfred watched the embarrassment creep across her face. "Stop giving Hilary chocolate products. And start taking your responsibilities as a mother seriously."

"Don't make the child pay for your selfishness."

He turned to leave, but Hildegarde grabbed the car door, her eyes blazing. "Wilfred, you clearly still care about Hilary. You can't bear to leave her. Walking away now is the most irresponsible thing you could do."

"I'll say it one last time. Come home with me, and I'll act like none of this—"

"I'm not going back to the Pruitt house." Wilfred's voice was flat.

Slam.

He shut the door, ignoring her grip.

When that door closed, it shut out five years of loving her.

"Hildegarde, do you know what else happened the day you flew to Phuket to be with Patrick? It wasn't just our anniversary. That night, my appendix ruptured."

"I dragged myself to the hospital alone, in agony. But during the surgery, the doctors couldn't reach you. No one was there to sign the consent form. My appendix perforated. I nearly died on the operating table."

"That was the day I gave up on you completely."

Hildegarde stood frozen outside the car.

Appendix surgery?