On their seventh wedding anniversary, Kimberly Williams discovered a divorce agreement in Richard Munoz's nightstand drawer.

It was covered in scribbles and cross-outs, as if he'd agonized over the decision time and again.

[If I fall in love with someone else during the marriage, I voluntarily give up all my assets and leave with nothing. Here's the list of properties.]

He'd originally vowed to walk away penniless for her sake, but in the asset section, he'd crossed things out one by one.

First, he struck through the house he planned to give her, then changed the $50 million to $500,000.

Finally, in a ruthless scrawl, he added: [Better if Kimberly leaves with nothing. Can't help it. Lotta is pregnant.]

Kimberly Williams slumped onto the bed, stunned beyond belief.

Richard's signature on the divorce agreement was sharp and decisive, with no hint of hesitation. The document had been drafted seven years ago, right when they'd just gotten married.

Back then, he'd been willing to give up everything for her. But each year after that, he'd crossed out more assets.

Seven years later, she was the one expected to leave empty-handed.

Her phone buzzed suddenly with a text from Richard: [Unexpected business trip. Don't wait for me.]

She tried calling him, but his phone was already off.

Then a message from a friend popped up—a screenshot of a social media post by Lotta Anderson, the underprivileged student Kimberly had been sponsoring.

[Got praised today! To celebrate my first period without any leaks, Mr. CEO says we gotta party it up.]

The nine-photo grid showed Richard smiling warmly, tenderly fastening a stunning sapphire pendant around her neck. The post was geotagged at a romantic couple's hotel.

Kimberly's breath caught in her throat. He couldn't remember their seventh wedding anniversary, yet he'd gone out of his way to celebrate something as trivial as Lotta's period.

And that sapphire pendant? She'd spotted it at last week's auction. It was her family's heirloom and her mother's lost keepsake. She'd been about to bid when she learned her credit card had been frozen.

She had asked Richard why, and it had taken him forever to reply: [Don't waste money on useless junk like that.]

Clutching her bidder's paddle, she'd felt utterly lost in the auction hall. Finally, she'd decided to sell her graphic design portfolio to scrape together the funds.

But someone had phoned in a remote bid that blew everyone else out of the water. Kimberly had beaten herself up for weeks, hating that she couldn't preserve her mother's memento.

She'd never imagined the bidder was Richard himself. He knew how desperately she wanted it, yet he'd gifted it to Lotta.

Even on their anniversary, he'd lied about being buried in work while wining and dining the other woman.

And his gift for her? A divorce agreement that left her with nothing.

He'd been cheating for the entire seven years of their marriage, and she had been completely oblivious—even introducing Lotta to him.

Lotta was a poor college student Kimberly had sponsored. When she'd first visited to express her thanks, Richard had complained that she was invading their privacy and said he couldn't stand her.

"Some country girl with no manners, tracking mud all over my cashmere rug. If she doesn't ace her exams, cut her off—no more handouts."

Kimberly had teased him, telling him not to get petty and that the girl had a grateful heart. She'd never suspected a thing between them.

For seven years, everyone in their social circle knew Richard didn't play around; he only had eyes for Kimberly.

But the next time they met, Lotta had transformed into his personal assistant.

He'd explained it casually: "She's had a tough life. You've been helping her for years, so giving her a job is just me taking some weight off your shoulders."

Kimberly had brushed it off with a smile. But now, her hands trembled as she scrolled through Lotta's social media.

She remembered Lotta had always blocked her from viewing posts, but now the girl seemed eager to show off everything.

While Kimberly had been downing drinks to close a business deal for Richard and ending up in the ER with a bleeding ulcer, Lotta was using his credit card to buy her first Louis Vuitton bag.

While Kimberly cared for Richard's bedridden grandmother, changing bedpans and cleaning up messes, he was off on fake business trips, taking Lotta to perfume-blending workshops.

Lotta had even posted a rant: [Your wife is such a clingy type, calling you back for every little thing. Can't she survive without a man?]

Richard had commented below: [If she were half as independent as you, it'd save me a headache.]

But that day, Kimberly's mother died from cancer. Kimberly had cried until she was hoarse, frantically handling all the arrangements alone.

Richard had kept glancing at his phone, itching to leave—not for work, but to rush back to Lotta.

Every timeline matched perfectly. It hit Kimberly like a gut punch, leaving her breathless with pain. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, all dressed up, then at the cold dinner on the table. It all felt like a cruel joke.

After a long pause, she dialed a number she knew by heart but hadn't called in years.

"You still want to set me up with that illegitimate son from the Shaw family? As long as he doesn't mind that I'm divorced, I'll marry him."

If seven years of marriage only brought betrayal, she was done with it. Wiping away her tears, she geared up to contact a lawyer and draft her own divorce agreement.

Just then, her phone pinged with an anonymous text: [Come to Vista Mansion. I've got a show you'll want to see.]

The opulent mansion was easily worth ten million dollars.

Kimberly climbed the stairs, and through the slightly ajar door, she heard moans and heavy breathing. Two naked bodies were entwined on the bed.

"Easy there. My period's not quite over yet," Lotta whined.

Richard kissed her with a tenderness Kimberly had never seen from him. He croaked, "Don't worry, babe. I won't go all the way. Just wanna hold you."

Lotta pouted playfully. "What if you can't hold back? You'd have to go home to her for that, right?"

Annoyance flashed across Richard's face. "I don't even want to touch her. Aside from the bare minimum as a husband, just looking at her makes me feel disgusted."

Kimberly stumbled back, her heart throbbing with dense, stabbing pain.

Lotta sent her a voice message: [You heard that? He'd rather cuddle me during my period and do nothing than go back to you. Oh, and you probably didn't know. We had a baby once, but it was a miscarriage.]

Kimberly's heart went numb with agony.

How could she not know? That divorce agreement spelled it out. Richard wanted her out with nothing because Lotta was pregnant.

Kimberly texted back: [Fine by me.]

Kimberly went to a law firm and drew up a new divorce agreement, asking for a fair 50-50 split. If they went to court, Richard—as the one at fault—would lose even more.

But she didn't want to drag their marriage into a messy battle; she just wanted an out as quickly as possible.

Her top priority was getting him to sign it, so she texted Lotta again: [If you can get him to sign the divorce agreement, he's yours.]

Two days later, Richard came home, looking refreshed and satiated, but when he saw Kimberly, his demeanor shifted back to indifference. "What's up? You look wiped out."

Kimberly paused, then shook her head. "Nothing."

Just then, a delivery guy knocked. "Here are your anniversary flowers. Sorry for the delay—the blue roses were out of stock the other day. Happy anniversary!"

A huge bouquet of vibrant blue roses was thrust into Richard's arms. He froze, then turned with a guilty look. "Sorry, I forgot the other day was our..."

Kimberly gave him a cold stare. "Apologies after the fact are meaningless. Some things, once missed, are gone forever."

He reached for her hand, trying to placate her. "Come on, it's just a couple of days late. Don't give me the cold shoulder. Work's been crazy. I'll make it up to you."

She ignored him and set the flowers on the table. Richard blinked, any guilt evaporating. "Kimberly, this isn't like you."

She stopped, turning to him. "And what should I be like?"

Should she cater to his every whim, hang on his words, and thank him profusely for an empty promise?

"It's just an anniversary—not Christmas or anything. Does the formality really matter that much? Fine, forget it." He waved dismissively. "I'll make it right today. Get changed—we're going to the mall."

He headed downstairs, and her grievances welled up. But maybe it was best to clear the air.

As she stepped into the elevator, the lights suddenly went out. Her heart immediately leaped into her throat.

She pounded the alarm button, but nothing happened. In her desperation, she called Richard, but the line was busy.

A text came through: [Something came up. Hang tight at home.]

She froze, and right after, Lotta's text came: [My cramps are killing me, and he's coming over to comfort me. Looks like your anniversary plans are ruined again.]

Her claustrophobia kicked in. The elevator could drop at any moment.

Desperately, she texted Richard: [I'm stuck in the elevator! Call the building manager! I don't have their number!]

[Richard, save me! It's pitch black here! Please!]

Minutes passed with no response. A rumble echoed, and the elevator plunged. She screamed and blacked out.

Opening her eyes again, Kimberly found herself in the hospital.

"You awake?" A nurse adjusted her IV drip. "How are you feeling? You were so pale when they brought you in. Scared the heck out of us."

From the nurse, Kimberly learned that the building manager had rushed her to the ER and tried contacting Richard via the owners' group chat.

"She's a grown woman," he'd snapped. "Can't she handle a minor issue without bothering me?"

He had hung up without sending a single concerned text. He'd completely forgotten about her claustrophobia.

Bitterness surged through her as memories flooded back.

In high school, when bullies locked her in a dark storage room, it was Richard who'd smashed the door open, ignoring his bleeding hands as he held her close. "Kimbie, don't be scared. I've got you."

The next day, he'd beaten the bullies senseless. "She has claustrophobia, terrified of the dark! Do you realize locking her in there nearly sent her into shock?"

He'd gone berserk, earning himself in-school suspension, but it let the whole school know the orphaned Kimberly had someone watching her back.

When had he started forgetting? Kimberly pulled out the IV needle.

The nurse yelped, "Hey, don't remove that."

"I'm fine now," Kimberly said, shaking her head. "No need for the drip."

The nurse frowned. "Come on. Don't throw tantrums like that. You're gonna be a mom."

Kimberly stiffened, turning in disbelief. "A mom? Me?"

"We drew blood when you passed out," the nurse explained. "The doctor reviewed the labs personally. You're three months along. Didn't you notice anything?"

Kimberly's mind blanked out. The nurse's lips moved, but she heard nothing.

Why now, of all times, when she was planning to divorce him? She stumbled out of the room, torn about what to do with this unexpected pregnancy.

Just then, Richard hurried toward her. She stopped, but he blew right past like she was invisible, veering into a nearby room.

She paused, then followed instinctively. To her surprise, it was the gynecology department.

Minutes later, Lotta emerged with a report in hand, her eyes red and puffy. One after another, they headed to the stairwell.

"You heard the doctor," she sobbed. "After the miscarriage, my periods have been irregular and painful. Turns out it's a torn uterine lining. I... I might never have kids again."

"Don't worry," he soothed. "We'll have children. I still dream about the one you lost because of me."

"If our baby were still here, he'd be in elementary school now," she wept. "Promise me. You'll only have kids with me."

He pulled her into a hug, aching for her.

"Only with you, I promise."

"But what if Kimberly gets pregnant?"

He paused, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, but she pressed on. "Unless, after I get pregnant, you get a vasectomy for me."

Kimberly's heart clenched. She expected him to refuse and explode in anger.

But after a brief pause, he murmured, "Okay. Anything you want."