As if startled by my silence, a mist formed in Aurel’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Marina,” she said softly. “I didn’t know that just registering my fingerprint would upset you. I’ll ask Barly to delete it when I leave later.”

Then she turned to Barly with a gentle smile.

“Barly, I’ll wait outside tomorrow until you finish work and then we can eat together, okay? If I’m a little late getting back to the hospital, the patients might complain... but I don’t mind.”

I’ve always suspected that Aurel and I simply weren’t compatible. Every time we exchanged a few words, she ended up in tears.

And somehow, everyone always assumed I was the one bullying her.

This time was no different.

“No need to delete it,” Barly said sharply, shooting me an annoyed glance before getting up to wipe Aurel’s tears.

“I’m the one who registered her fingerprint. If you have a problem, take it up with me. Don’t vent it on an innocent person.”

He didn’t see it—but the “innocent person” he was defending had just tilted her head and shot me a smug, triumphant smile.

I licked my lips, then suddenly let out a laugh.

Across the office, I looked directly at Barly.

“You said you’ve always seen her as a younger sister. That’s why you’ve been so good to her all these years, right?”

He hesitated for a second before giving a small nod.

I nodded slowly back and finally asked the question that had been lodged in my chest for the past three years.

“After we got married, shouldn’t I at least be her half-sister-in-law? Has she ever called me that—not even once?”

“Have you ever asked her to change the way she addresses me?”

“Even on our wedding day, when the elders asked her to toast me, she got so drunk she couldn’t stand. You stayed with her the entire night… and left me alone on our wedding night.”

“I had no idea that the treatment for a half-sister ranks higher than that of a newlywed wife. If I’d known, maybe I would’ve gone out and found myself a half-brother, just to experience that kind of special care…”

“Marina Jones!”

Before I could finish, Barly snapped, his face darkening.

He turned back to comfort Aurel, who was now sobbing uncontrollably and shouting that she wanted to jump from the building to prove her innocence.

“If you can’t speak properly, then get out. Don’t come here just to be sarcastic.”

“A person with a filthy heart sees filth in everything.”

“Is that your answer to me?” I asked, frowning.

Sure, my words were laced with bitterness—but weren’t they the truth?

I slammed the office door behind me and stormed out.

The news reached Mrs. Hudson not long after. She called me specifically to deliver a lecture.

“Barly manages a massive company—he’s busy from morning to night, barely has time to eat. As his wife, instead of easing his burdens, you’re creating more for him. Can’t you even let him relax a little during his free time?”

“What’s wrong with me finding someone to keep him company and help him unwind?”

“You can't even fulfill the basic duties of a wife. What right do you have to object?”

My hands clenched at my sides and my heart turned even colder.

Back then, to help Aurel play the perfect victim, Barly had trampled all over my dignity. He dragged seven or eight men—strangers to me—before the elders and accused me of secretly having an abortion.

“Just sacrifice yourself this once,” he had said. “I’ll explain everything to the family later.”

I waited more than a month for that explanation.

What I got instead was a new wave of online smear campaigns.

I hung up the phone halfheartedly and collapsed onto the sofa, utterly drained.

My thoughts wandered to the past.

Barly and I had built everything from scratch. When I first met him, he was just a small business owner, running a modest company.

I joined his team, accompanied him to meetings, helped him win over clients. We often entertained late into the night, dealing with demanding CEOs and high-maintenance executives.

When the company hit a bottleneck and frustration weighed him down, he would invite me to walk with him by the river, just to talk it out.

Over time, our relationship deepened naturally and I began investing my own money into the company. Eventually, I acquired a 2% stake.

As the business grew, so did Barly’s wealth—and then he proposed. I accepted.

Three months before the wedding, he brought Aurel over from her hometown, saying it was to support her medical studies. To welcome her, he unilaterally decided to transfer my shares to her—without even discussing it with me.

That decision sparked our first major argument.

Looking back now, maybe that was the beginning of the cracks forming between us.

When I woke up, my face was damp with sweat and tears.

At some point, Barly had returned home. The sight of the suitcase I’d packed and left by the door infuriated him.

“What are you planning now?” he demanded. “Wasn’t the scene you caused at the company yesterday already enough? Now you’re stirring up more trouble?”

I splashed cold water on my face, then placed the spare front door key on the edge of the sink.

“I’m planning to move out for a while,” I said calmly. “Have you signed the divorce papers yet?”

“You seriously want a divorce?” His face darkened and his voice turned icy.

“All because of a fake medical report? I know it was fake. I don’t even care. I don’t look down on you.”

I didn’t answer.

It was absurd.

After eight years of being together, he didn’t even understand why I suddenly wanted a divorce.

After a moment, he spoke again.

“Did my mother call and say something to you? Just hold on a little longer. Aurel’s being evaluated for the ‘Most Beautiful Physician’ award right now. Once she wins, I’ll explain everything to the family for you.”

“No need.”

Once the divorce was finalized, I’d clear my name on my own.

If I really listened to him and waited like he asked, I’d probably end up hearing something like, “Let’s just forget it. People already believe it anyway.”

I knew Barly far too well.

My eyes drifted to the gift in his hand—a bottle of perfume from a niche foreign brand.

Barly let out a cold snort and tossed the gift at my feet.

“Aurel picked this out for you. She’s so much more thoughtful than you.”

I didn’t bend down to pick it up. Instead, I sneered.

That gesture? That gift?

He had the nerve to criticize me for lacking manners.

How ironic.

If I remembered correctly, this same perfume box appeared in one of Aurel’s instastory updates at the end of last month.

“Barly,” I said coolly, “you like to talk about manners. Have you ever seen someone give a sample as a gift? Have you ever seen someone throw a gift at another person’s feet?”

I casually used the umbrella by the door to lift the ribbon off the box, opened it and pulled out the tiny vial inside—0.2 milliliters.

“It’s already been used.”

Barly’s eyes flickered with guilt.

“The full-size version has a lighter scent,” he said quickly. “Aurel deals with patients all day, so a stronger fragrance wouldn’t be appropriate.”

I smiled.

I didn’t bother exposing his lie. I didn’t even open my phone to show him her old story post.

Before I left, I reminded him one last time.

“Just sign the papers already. Dragging it out any further is pointless.”

Almost as soon as I moved in with my best friend, Aurel posted a new story updates.

She even mentioned me by name—just to make sure I saw it.

[Why can’t good men ever find good women? If it were me, I wouldn’t let you struggle so hard between career and family.]

The photo she posted showed Barly, slightly tipsy, gazing blankly out of the floor-to-ceiling window at the city skyline.

For the next two weeks, her feed didn’t stop.

She gathered all the perfume samples from her apartment and gave them away to her coworkers and patients.

[Some people treat kindness like weeds. Others treat it like treasure.]

She and Barly had dinner together in his office, both of them wearing the newest Cartier couple's watches on their wrists.

[Everyone says we’re a perfect match and I’m getting so annoyed hearing it. If someone misunderstands, they’ll start causing trouble again.]

I stared at the photo carefully. The simple men’s ring that used to sit on Barly’s middle finger was now gone—only a faint indentation remained.

My best friend was so furious that she started cursing under her breath. She grabbed my phone and furiously typed out a long response.

[Who doesn’t know how to be sarcastic?]

Before she could hit send, I stopped her.

I was used to these kinds of story update posts. Ever since Aurel and I added each other, she had posted like clockwork—something small every three days, something dramatic every five.

“Do you think she’d dare mention me so openly?” I asked.

My best friend went pale.

I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when my relationship with Barly had started to shift. But by the time I noticed, every argument between us was soon followed by a new post from Aurel.

Once I confirmed her suspicions, my best friend let loose again—cursing Barly’s ancestors all the way back through history.

After staying at her place for about a month, just as I was preparing to officially file for divorce, Barly called.

He sent me an address, along with just four words.

[Come over. Let’s talk.]

I thought he had finally come to his senses and agreed to the divorce. I grabbed my bag and drove straight to the location.

But instead of discussing our marriage, he’d summoned me… to attend a dinner party on Aurel’s behalf.

“These are all Aurel’s former patients,” he said, glancing at the four girls sitting in the private room. His voice carried a trace of disdain.

“They wanted to treat her to a meal, but she’s too busy and doesn’t want to offend them. Could you go in for her?”

I looked at him in disbelief, feeling like a complete fool for even showing up.

“Absolutely not.”

I shook off his hand and turned to leave.

“I’m filing for divorce. From now on, the only thing left between us is splitting up our assets.”

Panic flared in his eyes. He reached out and grabbed my arm.

“Why are you always so harsh toward Aurel? What did she ever do to you? What about me? What have I done to deserve this from you?”

“Ever since you brought up divorce, you’ve either been cold or sarcastic. Now you won’t even sit down for a meal? Marina, why are you so damn stubborn? It’s just dinner. Eat a little, drink a little—it doesn’t cost you anything. I’ll wait for you outside and take you home afterward.”

“Is bringing up divorce all the time really that satisfying for you?”

“Let go!” I snapped.

He ignored my struggles and forcibly dragged me into the private room.

Before I could say a single word, he introduced me to the guests—on Aurel’s behalf—and then snatched my bag, turned on his heel and walked out.

He locked the door from the outside as he left.

Four women sat behind me, all staring with visible hostility. One of them, a small and delicate-looking girl, stood up and poured me a glass of wine.

“Dr. Grann,” she said, her voice dripping with resentment, “this glass is for you. Thank you for the medical report that made my fiancé dump me on our engagement day. I became the laughingstock of both our families. I still don’t have the courage to show my face in public.”

She downed the wine in one gulp.

The other three followed, rising to their feet and emptying their glasses just as swiftly.

A cold sweat crept down my spine. Something felt very wrong.

“I’m not Aurel,” I said quickly. “If you have something to say, wait until she gets here…”

Before I could finish, a sharp slap landed hard across my face.

It came from a tall, slim woman who’d been quietly standing in the corner. Her scream echoed through the room, shrill and hysterical.