One day, shortly after I had experienced a miscarriage, Alan brought me a bowl of chicken soup—and a divorce agreement.

"Sophia's pregnant," he had said. "So let's just leave each other like mature adults do."

Chicken soup had never tasted so bitter in my life. I knew Sophia Mason—he had sponsored her education before.

She was also the one who caused my miscarriage.

I did not cry. I did not throw a fit. I just asked why.

He looked relieved. Then, he looked at me blankly. "The truth is I can't stand you over these seven years. Every time we lie together on our bed, I just can't help but be disgusted by what your body has gone through.

"I know you suffered that because of me. But I can't do it. I can't stop remembering how defiled it is.

"Our kid is gone. We owe each other nothing now—so let's end it here, right now."

So that was it, huh? Hilarious. He had no idea who the "defiled" one was—him.

Seven years ago, I inserted a memory chip into his brain to save him. And now, in three days' time, the chip will cease to function.

He will remember everything… and he will wish he were long dead.

Alan took my silence as an invitation to begin divorce negotiations.

"Don't worry about financial compensation. I won't let you leave empty-handed," he said. "I'll give you a car, the house, and half the money from our joint venture. You won't have to work for the rest of your life."

Oh, he planned to push me out of the company we built together.

A lump rose in my throat. I set the agreement aside. "I… I need time to think."

He frowned.

"Selena, please. Unlike you, Sophia hasn't been with anyone but me. That makes me responsible for her life. I'm her only one," he insisted. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be. I'd hate to see you as an enemy over this."

It was a threat.

I remembered our early days, when we had just started the business. A prospective client once tried to strong-arm me into reshaping a deal for his benefit. Alan smashed a beer bottle against the table the moment the man leaned in and lowered his voice.

This time, the figurative bottle was aimed at me.

"Don't worry. I'll sign it," I said. I did not tell him I meant something else. "At least have a meal with me the day after tomorrow, okay? It's our tenth wedding anniversary."

Alan looked startled. Then he sighed. "Why? There's no point."

He thought I was clinging to him.

"Look, I can't. I promised Sophia I'd take her to the OB-GYN for her checkup that day. But if that's what it takes for you to sign, I'll make time."

As if on cue, Sophia Mason called.

"Alan, my tummy feels funny. I think the baby misses their papa…" she cooed.

What baby? It was only two months along, barely formed.

Yet Alan's face softened at once. He spoke to her with open tenderness.

"Oh no, that won't do! I'll have a stern talk with them right away!" he joked.

He was ready to leave. He paused at the door and said, "Truth be told, Selena, she's the home I've always wanted."

He had said that before. He had said it to his family when he cut ties with them for rejecting me. He had grown up in comfort and luxury, yet for me, he had been willing to live in a rundown rented room.

"You're the home I want, Selena."

Now, I was the hell that had trapped him for years.

…

The soup had gone cold. I threw it, bowl and all, into the trash. Then I made two calls.

First, to my lawyer. I needed to secure my share of the company.

Second, to a moving company. I wanted every trace of Alan removed from the house.

He did not come home that night. Instead, Sophia sent me a photo. Alan stood topless, warming a cup of milk. A smear of lipstick marked his chest.

[Get a grip, darling. Your baby's gone. There's nothing tying you to him now, so how long will you keep simping for a man who doesn't want you? Look at him. He only shows his wild side with me. I'm the only one who can bring out that beast in him.]

[You? You forced a starving man to fast. Tsk. He was so deprived… he took me even after he knew I was pregnant.]

Once, messages like these would have sent me into a frenzy. I would have thrown out every sanitizer and antibacterial spray. I would have shredded his long-sleeved pajamas. I would have screamed at him, demanded to know why he treated me like I carried a disease. I would have asked myself why I chose this torment all those years ago.

I no longer asked. I took a screenshot and turned off my phone.

I knew my worth. Nebula Inc. had recently reached a valuation in the billions under our leadership. Our shared assets alone were worth at least two billion dollars. Among moguls and tycoons, our standing rivaled that of royalty.

I already had money and power.

The next day, I visited the lab where the memory chip had been developed.

Its history struck me as deeply ironic. The lead researcher, Kier Long, had once been a struggling student from a working-class background. Alan had rejected his application for sponsorship. At the time, our company had only just found its footing, and we could sponsor only a limited number of students.

Alan had chosen to sponsor Sophia instead, claiming he saw my younger self in her. He had claimed he could not turn his back on that.

I could not bring myself to let Kier's brilliance wither because of the circumstances of his birth, so I funded a research lab out of my own pocket and gave him a chance to build something of his own.

After that incident with Alan, Kier devoted himself to his work with relentless focus. Within a month, he created the memory chip. Meanwhile, Sophia spent that same month trying to get into Alan's pants.

"Ms. DeLisle, the chip will cease to function in less than forty-eight hours. The data I've gathered so far is not promising," Kier said, pushing his glasses up with a worried frown.

He handed me a report. "As I mentioned before, if we force the chip to operate beyond its extended lifespan, it will cause irreparable neural damage to Mr. Faust."

He expected me to panic. He still believed I was the same woman who would trade her soul to the Devil to save Alan's life.

How quaint. I had changed.

"I suppose we'll see what happens," I said, closing the report.

My tone caught him off guard.

"Uh, listen. I have a backup solution to—"

"That won't be necessary." I picked up my purse. "Just store the data."

I did not need to imagine what would happen once the chip began to fail. Alan would fall back into the same reckless patterns as before. This time, I would not follow him into ruin with an equally foolish choice.

Alan called me shortly afterward. He demanded that I attend this year's graduation ceremony at our alma mater, John Goldbook College.

"We've always attended together. I'm not interested in fueling rumors before we're even formally divorced."

Please. He only wanted to protect Sophia's reputation. If she appeared in public with a man who was still very much married, what would people say? She was a lecturer at the college, after all, though she owed that position entirely to Alan.

The problem was that rumors about the two of them had already spread. The gossip had long since taken hold.

Not that I intended to shatter the illusion Alan was trying to maintain. Things could spiral out of control if we were not careful.

…

Sophia was already on campus when I arrived. The moment she saw me, she masked every trace of malice and pressed a hand to her stomach in feigned anxiety. "S-Selena! You're here…"

She always delivered a D-lister's performance when she knew Alan was watching, careful to conceal her true nature. True to form, Alan sided with her every time.

I once told him Sophia had killed the baby by shoving me to the floor. He had accused me of exaggerating to frame her.

Now he stepped in front of her at once, shielding her with his body. "Don't cause a scene, Selena. You're supposed to be educated. Don't forget that."

I pressed my lips together. Another threat. How tiresome.

I pushed past him. "Excuse me. You're in my way."

Alan stared at me, stunned. He had not expected such composure. "Selena, what's—"

"That was all my fault, Selena!" Sophia cut in. "I've prepared a short clip as a surprise for you!"

I had no idea what she meant. The answer came when she took the stage as the emcee.

A video began to play.

She claimed it had been created with the help of generative AI and adapted from a real kidnapping case many years ago.

A young gold-digging woman had been lured abroad under false pretenses. A crime syndicate captured her. They subjected her to relentless abuse. The camera lingered on her face as she screamed, shrieked, and gasped in pain.

The video showed no explicit nudity, yet it horrified the entire hall.

The woman in the footage had my face.

Nebula had only just gone public when Alan was abducted. We could not risk negative coverage, so I kept the press out of it. Then we mobilized our international connections, poured in money, and enlisted help from local agencies.

The ordeal left Alan deeply traumatized. His physical injuries healed over time, but his mind did not. Nothing reached him. He attempted suicide again and again.

After we intervened in yet another attempt, Kier proposed using his experimental memory chip. It could rewrite the memory so nothing could trigger the original events while the chip remained in place.

However, the pain from that experience would still need proper healing so that Alan would no longer try to kill himself once the chip failed.

I had chosen to sacrifice more than I should have. I thought love might cure even this.

I was wrong. Once Alan believed I had endured that torment, he treated me as if I carried every disease in the world. He turned it into a weapon against me.

…

The video ended. Sophia scanned the crowd, yet her gaze lingered on me longer than on anyone else. "You see, just because someone appears alive does not mean they are not dead inside.

"Without dignity, the soul has already died, and all that remains is to cling to someone else like a parasite.

"I hope you all understand this lesson: never trade your dignity for anything. Protect your worth. Treat yourself with respect."

After the ceremony, Sophia returned to Alan. He frowned.

"That was too risky, Sophia," he said, concern edging his voice.

She met his gaze with practiced innocence. "I showed it because I admire Selena's mental strength. I wanted the students to have a strong woman as a role model."

She turned to me, her concern carefully staged. "I prepared that video a long time ago to motivate you, Selena. I want you to step out of that shadow as soon as possible, so you do not have to depend on others anymore."

Alan looked at her with open affection. "You're always too sweet for your own good, Sophia."

Then he fixed me with a pointed look. "She acted out of kindness. Don't put this on her."

I met his gaze with a cold stare. "Did it occur to you what consequences this video might have for me?"

"Who cares?" he snapped. "You can't hide the truth forever. People will find out sooner or later. Besides, Sophia already clarified that it was AI-generated. She didn't even name you. If anyone claims it's you, deny it instead of throwing a tantrum."

So any humiliation I felt was, in his view, self-inflicted.

I smiled. "I see. I hope you still believe that very soon."

He stared at me, baffled, as I walked away.

…

The internet seized on it faster than I expected. The controversy moved with an almost deliberate momentum.

Within an afternoon, my AI-generated likeness had been extracted from the video and inserted into several softcore pornographic clips.

It became a meme template and an emote. People began linking me to the woman in the footage, and sensational headlines soon followed.

I was dogpiled.

[No wonder the lady boss never had kids. A party that wild must have ruined her.]

[I feel bad for Mr. Faust. He's too handsome to have a wife like that.]

[AI? That's just a cover, isn't it? Does she even look tortured? She sounds like she's enjoying it.]

…

The stock market reacted. By the next day, the board of directors had placed me on forced leave.

Alan relayed the decision over the phone as if it were routine business. "You know how hard Nebula worked to get where it is today, Selena. We can't let it collapse because you failed to protect your reputation."

He seemed to have forgotten that none of this would have happened without Sophia.

"But don't worry. As long as you sign the agreement, I'll give you fair compensation."

I tightened my grip on the phone. "You mean you're pushing me out of Nebula under the excuse that I damaged the company's reputation. All this just to force me to sign the divorce papers."

He paused before answering, "It's more complicated than that… Sophia is a little naive and insecure. She can't stand the thought of us still working together. I just want to protect my home."

He had no idea that his ideal home life was running on borrowed time. Ten hours remained before the chip would fail.

Soon after, the media broke news of Alan accompanying Sophia to an OB-GYN for a pregnancy check-up.