My best friend and I were shopping for suitcases when we bumped into Cyrus' secretary.

She was browsing rings and smirked when she saw us.

"Ms. Key, hope you didn't fight with the CEO after our last encounter," she said with faux concern.

"Men have their careers, and we women should know our place. Wouldn't want to be replaced by someone younger and prettier, right?"

Her thinly veiled insults and hints about her relationship with Cyrus were infuriating.

Such provocation was intolerable.

Before my hot-headed friend could react, I stepped in and slapped the secretary hard.

"Pretty bold for a homewrecker," I snapped.

"What makes you think you can flaunt yourself in front of the wife?"

I noticed the secretary's affected manner and fleeting glances, sensing something was amiss.

Sure enough, footsteps approached from behind.

Just then, Cyrus appeared.

He checked his secretary's face and glared at me.

"Simon's spoiled you rotten," he growled.

My friend tried to explain, but Cyrus cut her off.

"Still defending her? I know what I saw."

"What's gotten into you two?"

His condescending tone made my blood boil.

If I could have taken him in a fight, I would have slapped him too.

My friend, even angrier, gripped my hand tightly.

"You don't get it, Cyrus!" she yelled.

"You used to notice my every mood. Now you're CEO, and you're blind to how I'm being treated!"

"Watch it," Cyrus warned.

My friend took a deep breath.

"Fine. Fire her, and I'll behave. Or don't – I know you've got plenty of secretaries."

Cyrus slapped her hand away hard.

"Enough with the jealousy," he snapped.

The blow left her hand swollen.

Cyrus seemed to regret it for a moment but said nothing.

"Keep this up, and we're getting divorced," he threatened before leaving with his secretary.

As they walked away, my friend collapsed into my arms, sobbing.

"He wasn't always like this," she choked out between tears.

My best friend and Cyrus have known each other longer.

They’ve been together since kindergarten and share a bond forged through life-threatening experiences.

Unable to retaliate directly against the Foster family, their enemies targeted Cyrus, who was still in kindergarten.

Disguised as servants, they abducted him.

My friend sensed something was wrong and insisted on going along.

En route, she realized the danger and secretly alerted the police using her smartwatch. The police tracked the watch's location and apprehended the kidnappers.

As a child, Cyrus was particularly clingy towards my friend.

As they grew older, he became less overt but started approaching her subtly.

He even secretly intercepted guys who wanted to confess to her.

Simon told me about this later.

I thought their relationship would be even more stable than mine and Simon's, given its storybook beginning.

I never imagined it would end like this.

We bought suitcases and returned to the Foster house.

The butler curiously asked what we were up to, but I brushed him off with a casual "We're going on a trip."

My family's legal team had already quietly drafted divorce papers for me. Since we both wanted a clean break, we weren’t planning to take any of his assets.

We married with nothing and would leave the same way, not taking even a cloud with us.

After signing the papers and leaving them on the table, we started packing.

We took what we could and arranged for our own butler to collect the rest.

By the time the Foster family's butler realized something was amiss, my friend and I were already out the door with our suitcases.

Before boarding the plane, we called our families to briefly explain our marital situation.

My friend and I get along so well because we come from similar backgrounds and are both the cherished daughters of our families.

I also have an older brother.

When my brother heard why I couldn't continue the marriage, he was furious.

"That scoundrel Simon! You’re right to leave him, sis. If you didn’t, you’d end up with a forest growing on your head," he exclaimed, referring to being cheated on.

He then suggested, "I manage a team of male models. There are plenty of good-looking, obedient guys. Since Simon likes to have 'female confidants,' we can arrange for some handsome companions on your trip..."

His wife immediately scolded him, "Don't corrupt your sister!"

However, the idea of the male models joining us wasn’t scrapped.

As soon as we landed, our phones were flooded with hundreds of calls from Simon and his brother.

I ignored them all and blocked their numbers.

After resting at the hotel for a night, my brother's model team arrived.

They ranged from "wolf-dog" types to "puppy" types, cool and aloof to charming and seductive.

Six or seven men, all as handsome as the Foster brothers, but with an added bonus: they were obedient.

They carried our bags, introduced us to local cuisine and attractions, and even acted as tour guides.

They were truly all-round talents.

Most importantly, they were sweet-talkers.

"Miss Yara, you should try this dish. If you don’t like it, I can cook for you during our trip."

"Miss Bella, you shouldn’t eat spicy food right now. I know a bit about medicine, and I sense you’re a bit irritable lately. If anything’s bothering you, please tell me..."

They were attentive and considerate, far superior to those two.

With such pampering, my anger, which had been at full blast, was reduced by at least 30%.