Instead of saying another word, Ryland stepped away and answered the call. "What is it?"

As he listened, his face tightened, and a frown slowly formed. He reached for his jacket from the vanity, already moving as he spoke. "I'm heading out now."

After ending the call, he faced Corinne again, and his expression eased as though nothing had interrupted them. "Something urgent came up. Get some rest, and don't wait for me. I'll have someone bring you warm milk, and if it gets worse, go to the hospital. I'll send someone to stay with you."

Without lingering for even a second, he walked out.

This kind of scene had long stopped being new. Over the past three years, Corinne had lost count of how often it happened.

Again and again, he chose to leave her behind for Jessica. It made no difference what the situation was. Whether they had just been intimate or she had been so unwell that she lost consciousness in bed, his decision never changed.

A sharp, piercing ache settled deep in Corinne's chest.

Before, she had always forced herself to endure it. Now, with their marriage coming to an end, she refused to stay silent any longer. Grabbing a pillow, she flung it straight at him.

"What? The moment I'm not up to sex, you rush off to someone else? Then don't forget to use protection and try not to catch anything!" she shouted.

The pillow struck him directly. He paused at last and turned around, a faint trace of resigned tolerance softening his otherwise cold expression. "Be good. I'll come back later."

Without waiting for her response, Ryland moved faster as he made his way downstairs. Jessica's life had been destroyed because of him. That burden was his responsibility. He had sworn to keep that secret buried forever and to take care of her for the rest of his life, which meant certain things could only be handled by him personally.

And Corinne? She had never truly cared about him from the very beginning. She would not even make their marriage known.

For three years, she stayed gentle and compliant at his side, but it was only because the Nash family's business was on the verge of collapse and needed the Becker family's support to survive. She had never given him anything genuine. Even during their most intense moments together, she had only been acting like the ideal wife.

From his point of view, her reaction had nothing to do with Jessica's return. He dismissed it as nothing more than irritation from her cycle, paired with a few biting remarks thrown his way.

Before Corinne could even respond, the door was already closed. Not long after, the sound of an engine starting echoed from below.

Light from the headlights swept across the windows for a brief moment, then vanished as the car sped off, leaving behind a heavy silence that seemed to sneer at her state.

Tears slipped free before Corinne had the chance to hold them back. She clenched her jaw, wiped her face, and snapped, "Bastard."

Sleep came in fragments that night, never lasting long. When Corinne woke, the sky was just beginning to brighten.

Ryland still hadn't returned. She reached for her phone and checked the time. It was five-thirty.

As she moved to lock the screen, a notification suddenly appeared.

"It's been six years since we first crossed paths. I'm so grateful we stayed in each other's lives."

The post came from Jessica.

Curious, Corinne tapped it and saw it had been posted at two-thirty in the morning. Several carefully edited night photos filled the post, along with a shot of a man's back.

The figure was unmistakable. His frame was strong, his waist lean, and the custom shirt he wore had been something she personally chose. There was no need to guess who it was.

With a sharp breath, Corinne tossed the phone aside.

If he truly cared that much about his first love, then why had he shown up last night acting gentle and attentive toward her?

What a damn bastard.

She pushed herself out of bed, headed to the bathroom, and began getting ready.

With every passing second, she kept cursing Ryland under her breath.

Over the last few years, she had been working as a reporter at a television station. That day, she was scheduled to visit the area near a chemical plant to conduct a public opinion survey.

She had just chosen a light gray casual outfit and was bending down to look for matching shoes when a hand suddenly reached from behind and pulled her firmly against a solid chest.

Through the mirror, Ryland standing behind her appeared strikingly attractive. He had already changed, and the fresh scent of soap lingered on him. He looked completely refreshed, almost annoyingly so.

As she stared at him, he dipped his head, caught the black strap resting on her shoulder between his teeth, then released it so it snapped lightly back against her skin.

Warm breath brushed along her shoulder while he smiled with quiet satisfaction, like a fox that had just secured its catch.

"This won't do. It doesn't match your charm, your grace, or that deadly beauty of yours," he said.

Seeing how effortlessly he shifted between her and Jessica, as if juggling both meant nothing to him, Corinne finally lost control. She inhaled sharply, turned around in one swift motion, and struck him across the face.

The sharp sound echoed in the room. He took the slap without moving, and even Corinne paused, momentarily stunned by the force of her own hand.

Rather than stepping back, Ryland inclined his head, closing the distance until they were face to face. Amusement flickered in his eyes. There wasn't a trace of anger—if anything, he turned slightly and offered his other cheek. "Still cranky because it's that time of the month? Go on. Take another swing if it'll make you feel better."

Heat surged through Corinne so violently her vision nearly blurred. The sheer audacity of him set her blood on fire.

He'd clearly spent the night with Jessica, and now he had the nerve to face her as if nothing had happened.

Without a second thought, she swung again. This time, his hand snapped up, catching her wrist with effortless precision. Before she could pull away, he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a firm, deliberate kiss into her palm, sending a shiver racing through her.

"Come to think of it, a kiss works better—no bruised hand, and it might take the edge off," he said.

Then, just as quickly, something in his expression shifted. The lazy smile on his lips faltered, tightening almost imperceptibly. "Where's your ring?"

All at once, Corinne stiffened, her voice flat as she answered, "It's gone."

Trying to wrench her hand free, she pulled back hard, but his grip held firm, the resistance only dragging her forward until she collided squarely with his chest, earning a soft, amused chuckle from him.

"So that's what's got you worked up? Don't worry. I'll get you a better one," he smiled.

A low laugh rumbled from him, the vibration seeping into her as the distance between them vanished, their heartbeats nearly syncing as one.

Flirting moments like this weren't unusual between them. At times like this, Corinne almost let herself believe he was just as trapped in this marriage as she was—that somewhere beneath all the games, he felt something real, something reckless and impossible, the same way she did.

Now reality had stripped that fantasy bare and left only the sting of truth—every bit of it had been in her head.

Staying this way was something she refused to endure anymore.

"Ryland, we need to talk."

He paused for only a beat, let out an absent little hum for her to go on, then turned back to the closet as if the conversation could wait.

Before she could steady her thoughts, he returned carrying a light-blue skirt suit. He held it against her with an appraising look, clearly delighted by his own choice. "Put this on when we go to the family house. Grandma's going to adore it."

The family house? That was when it clicked for Corinne—it was Friday. The Becker family always gathered there for breakfast on the third Friday of every month.

By long-standing family custom, the younger generation was expected to arrive early and share the morning meal with the elders.

His grandmother had always been kind to her, and for the past three years, Corinne had quietly played her part.

Right then, though, a hard streak of defiance rose inside her. She tipped up her chin and refused without hesitation. "No."

A faint arch lifted one of his brows as he eased back half a step. "You don't like this one? Fine. I'll find you something else."

While speaking, he casually pulled open another cabinet, revealing rows of delicate, barely-there lingerie. "Or maybe slip into one of these instead. Just picture Grandma realizing her sweet, refined granddaughter-in-law could be this daring in private…"

"Ryland!" Heat rushed to Corinne's face in an instant, her cheeks burning a vivid, furious red.

Annoyance flared sharp and hot at being cornered like this. In one swift motion, she snatched the skirt suit from his hands, shoved it back into the closet, then folded her arms tightly across her chest, fixing him with a hard glare.

A bitter edge crept into her voice as she spoke, unable to hold it back. "Looks like you had a great time celebrating last night. Shouldn't you be taking Jessica instead? What exactly do you need me for?"

A brief pause locked his body in place. For the first time, his gaze slipped away from her, unfocused for a heartbeat. Then he crouched, retrieved the discarded outfit with deliberate care, and straightened. When his eyes lifted to hers again, something raw and smoldering flickered there.

"According to family rules, the only woman who returns with me is my wife. So what'll it be? Are you putting it on yourself, or do you want me to do it for you?" he said calmly.

Silence wrapped around Corinne, leaving her momentarily stunned.

What made it worse was the realization that she'd actually expected him to feel embarrassed. That was almost laughable. Shame simply didn't exist in his vocabulary.

Understanding exactly what kind of man she was dealing with, she knew dragging this out would only give him more chances to push her buttons. If she resisted any longer, he'd keep prodding, relentless, until she finally broke.

With a tight breath, she changed into the outfit, adjusted her makeup in the mirror, and shut herself off from him completely. Throughout the entire drive, not a single word passed her lips. Even as the car pulled into the sprawling family estate, she maintained that cold, unbroken silence.

Just as she reached for the door, his hand closed around her arm, stopping her.

"If you're not feeling well, we'll leave right after breakfast. At least try to look like you're in a good mood. Don't make them worry," he said.

A sharp, humorless laugh slipped out of Corinne. The concern in his eyes only made the whole scene feel that much more ridiculous.

All of this was just for show. He wanted her beside him so his family would feel reassured, and she had been stupid enough, all this time, to keep trying to play the flawless wife.

Not anymore. She was done with that for good.

Over the last three years, everything the Becker family had brought to the Nash family had been repaid—many times over.

With a hard tug, she yanked her hand out of his grasp, snapping, "Ryland, after breakfast, we're getting di—"

Before the word could leave her mouth, a few crisp knocks tapped against the car window and cut her off.

Raising her gaze, Corinne spotted Jessica already standing by the car, calm and effortlessly composed.

Jessica had on a flowing skirt paired with a plain white tee, yet the silk scarf wrapped around her waist stole all the attention, highlighting her slim curves with deliberate care.

The moment Corinne saw it, recognition struck. That scarf came from a luxury brand's next season collection, something ordinary customers could not buy. Only a handful of the brand's partners were given access to pieces like that. And Ryland was the brand's most important partner.

It was obvious enough who had put that on her.

"Ryland, Corinne, you're finally here. I've been waiting for ages," Jessica greeted them with a smooth smile, her presence natural and self-assured, as if she belonged here.

Then she tilted her head slightly and added in a light tone, "Corinne, don't misunderstand. It wasn't Ryland who asked me to come. Patricia heard I was back and said she missed me, so she invited me over. Try not to put Ryland in a difficult spot, alright?"

Patricia Becker, Ryland's mother, had always been fond of Jessica and once saw her as the perfect match for her son.

Then Corinne appeared and disrupted everything.

Even after Corinne became Ryland's wife, Patricia never distanced herself from Jessica and continued treating her like one of her own.

If Corinne hadn't seen through Jessica time and time again, she might have believed that gentle, harmless front.

A faint, cold laugh escaped Corinne. She pushed the thought of divorce aside for the moment and answered without hesitation, "Oh? If Patricia invited you, then why does my husband keep coming up in your explanation? Sounds more like you're making sure I get the wrong idea."

For a brief moment, Jessica froze, clearly not expecting that response. "I only meant to keep things from getting worse between you and Ryland. I didn't want rumors stirring up trouble."

A quiet scoff nearly slipped from Corinne. Jessica surely had a talent for hiding sharp intent behind soft words.

"If you're really so concerned about how things look, then why do you still act so close to him? Patricia never stops praising you for your manners and how well you understand boundaries. Interesting, though. After two years overseas funded by Ryland, all you've improved is this fragile little performance," Corinne sneered.

That remark stripped the pleasant look right off Jessica's face.

"Corinne, you went too far." With the tension rising, Ryland stepped in at last, his brows drawn together.

Jessica turned her gaze toward Ryland, slipping into that fragile, pitiful look she wore so naturally. "Ryland, I'm fine. I'll head inside first."

She moved toward the house, biting her lip just enough to appear hurt as she walked away.

Annoyance flared through Corinne. She spun to face Ryland with a sharp glare, sneering, "So now I'm the one who went too far?"

He exhaled quietly, as if dealing with something exhausting. "Mom's always treated her like one of us. Don't make a scene..."

That was the last straw. Corinne's restraint snapped completely. "Right. Family. Close enough that boundaries disappear whenever it suits you. That's your excuse? And where exactly do I fit into any of this?"

"Corinne!" Even for him, her words crossed a line. His expression hardened at once, and when he spoke her name, it came out tight and cold, his teeth clenched.

The authority in his voice pressed down on her like a heavy weight.

A brief flicker of unease passed through Corinne, yet she held her ground and didn't back down this time. At last, she said what she had been holding in, "Forget breakfast. Let's just get divorced now."

She moved to open the car door, but before she could, his hand struck against it and held it firmly shut.

Instead of replying, he leaned in and kissed her.

"You… damn it—mmph—"

Corinne's protest was swallowed when he pushed her back against the door and kissed her with sudden force, leaving no space for resistance.

The pressure of his lips made hers ache, and the way he held her felt almost suffocating, as if he wanted to pull her completely into him. Despite herself, the intensity left her weak.

Only after she stopped struggling did Ryland ease his hold. One hand remained braced against the car as he leaned closer, his voice dropping. "Satisfied?"

There was something softer in his gaze now, a warmth that made it hard to look away.

Corinne cursed her own weakness. Even now, her heart reacted to him. Frustrated, she turned her face aside.

The color rising in her cheeks and the heat at her ears seemed to amuse him. A faint smile touched his lips, and he leaned in to press another kiss near her ear before taking her hand and pulling her inside, ignoring her resistance.

It was as if he had not heard her mention divorce at all.

No matter how many times she fought him, Corinne always ended up losing, though in her mind, she had already imagined knocking Ryland down countless times.

When they stepped inside, Ryland's grandmother, Lucy Becker, was already seated with his parents at the dining table.

As soon as Corinne appeared, Lucy's face brightened. She drew Corinne into a warm conversation and kept her close for quite some time before finally letting her go.

They had just taken their seats when Jessica emerged from the kitchen, holding a bowl of freshly made soup. She placed it carefully in front of Lucy, her smile gentle and composed. "Lucy, I made this just for you. It's light and good for your stomach. Have a taste. If you like it, I'll make more for you next time."

Without missing a beat, Patricia spoke up. "Jessica came early this morning and spent more than an hour preparing that. She's always so considerate."

Her gaze then shifted toward Corinne, sharp and deliberate. "Unlike someone who arrives late and waits to be served."