After I signed the paperwork and gave my consent, they immediately arranged for the cremation.

After my parents divorced, Dad never remarried. My grandparents were very old, so I didn't want to upset them with such devastating news.

While waiting, I suddenly received a screenshot that a coworker had forwarded. Warren had posted on Instagram again, showing off two three-day tickets to a theme park.

I tapped into the search function and saw that his page was completely blank. He had blocked me.

A new message popped up on my screen, and it read, "Julian, did you know Ms. Lavigne is away with Warren on a trip?"

My grip on the phone tightened.

The sender wasn't concerned about me at all. They were simply provoking me on Warren's behalf.

I had long since grown used to such taunts. All it took was a single remark from Warren, and someone would step forward to test the waters for him.

I put away my phone and took the urn with Dad's ashes in it. Then, I went to the courthouse to submit the divorce paperwork.

Cara had signed the divorce agreement last month. When I handed it to her, she hadn't hesitated at all. With a few swift strokes, she signed her name.

Watching her hurriedly scrawl it on top of the line, I couldn't help but remind her, "Aren't you going to take a look at its contents first before signing?"

She had set down her pen, handed the agreement back to me, and replied with a hint of impatience. "No need. I trust you."

Then again, she used to be an extremely meticulous person. No matter how thoroughly I prepared something, she would personally review it again.

Warren, however, was the exception. She never verified any of the documents he submitted.

I had expressed my dissatisfaction before, but she had answered in a tone that left no room for argument. "These documents are complicated. It's better if I double-check them myself to avoid mistakes."

"What about Warren?" I had asked.

She had laughed lightly and replied, "He's my assistant. Naturally, I trust his work."

For a while, I thought she had changed. It wasn't until I saw her skillfully prepare three project plans for Warren that I understood—she didn't actually trust me.

She simply had something she deemed more important at that time than reviewing the agreement.

Since the divorce application had been submitted a month ago, the waiting period had already been fulfilled.

After verifying the documents, the staff member handed me a form. "Where's the wife? The divorce won't take effect until she signs it."

After thinking for a moment, I pulled up Cara's flight information and explained, "She's taken her new lover on a vacation."

The staff member froze for a second, and a trace of sympathy appeared in her eyes. "We have regulations. Even if the spouse can't be present, we still need to confirm their intention to divorce by phone."

I nodded and called Cara.

After three calls, she finally answered at the very last second.

She blared, "Julian, how do you still have the nerve to call me? If you don't delete those comments, apologize to Warren, and stop causing trouble, then forget about claiming your father's body at the funeral home!"

This was her usual tactic whenever she was angry. Whenever I didn't cooperate as she wished, she resorted to threatening me.

Most of the time, it was because of Warren. As soon as he was unhappy, she automatically assumed I had done something to upset him. Without even asking for an explanation, she would demand that I apologize.

There had been one time when I fractured a bone and needed surgery. The doctor had said a family member had to sign the consent form. She had told me that if I didn't apologize, they could just amputate the limb and teach me a lesson.

Before I could even speak, the call was disconnected.

When I tried calling again, her phone was already powered off.

I gestured toward the phone. "That should be enough to confirm her intention to divorce, right?"

The staff member nodded, stamped the paperwork, archived it, and proceeded with the formalities.

I sat holding the urn for 20 minutes. Many people looked at me with sympathy, and I tightened my arms around the urn.

The next second, Cara unexpectedly called me on her own. "You're not at the office. Where are you?"

My gaze instinctively shifted toward the divorce counter.

Seeing that I remained silent, she didn't press the question. Clearly, she didn't truly care where I was.

She continued speaking on her own. "Go to Warren's place and feed his goldfish. While you're there, clean up the apartment for him."

Warren's hesitant voice came through the receiver before I could speak.

"Maybe we shouldn't trouble Julian. He's usually pretty busy. I can just hire a cleaning service to come over."

Cara was absolutely unconcerned.

She went on, "If he were really busy, he'd be at the office right now instead of scrolling through posts during work hours and leaving random comments just because he thinks he's contributed so much! He hasn't even apologized, and now he's throwing a tantrum because I scolded him."

I couldn't help clenching my fists.

It wasn't her efforts alone that built the company into the successful business it was today. I had contributed just as much, if not more, than she had.

Over the years, among all the projects we had, the ones that truly generated profits and turned things around had all been projects I secured.

Not only was she ungrateful, but she had also secretly stripped away my authority behind my back.

I had turned a blind eye to it because we were family. Yet, she showed no restraint whatsoever.

Not only had she promoted Warren over some even more qualified people, but she had also given him management authority beyond his rank and even personally defended him against criticism.

There was one time when Warren forgot to prepare a proposal, which led the client to become so furious that they nearly canceled the partnership. To protect Warren, Cara had shamelessly pinned the blame on me and forced me to take full responsibility.

"Julian, do you still not realize your mistake?" Cara asked coldly.

I nodded and said, "You're right. I was terribly wrong."

After ten years of marriage, I had failed to see her true colors sooner. I had wasted ten years draining myself emotionally. That indeed was a terrible mistake on my part.

Hearing my answer, Cara's tone softened somewhat. "Then hurry up and make up for it. After you feed the goldfish, clean the apartment. Make sure you do it by hand."

My clenched fist cracked audibly.

In a cold voice, I said, "I'm not going."

"What?" Cara's voice suddenly rose.

I didn't give her a chance to lose her temper, as I hung up immediately.

At the same time, a staff member handed me a receipt. "The paperwork is complete. There will be a three-day review period."

I nodded and accepted it.

Three days were more than enough time to take care of any loose ends. By then, Cara would probably have returned as well.

…

On the first day after returning, I held a simple funeral for Dad and posted an obituary on my social media.

I wrote, "I have lost another person who truly loved me."

After it was posted, quite a few people in the comments questioned it.

"Isn't this just another one of his tricks to get Ms. Lavigne's attention? That's really shameless. He's even using his own father's death to compete for affection."

Although they were technically employees under my management, most of them were close to Warren, and very few trusted me.

Back when Cara and I got married, Dad had opposed it. But because I insisted on marrying her, he eventually relented and agreed to the marriage.

During our ten years of marriage, Cara had never let go of that resentment. Not once had she accompanied me to have a meal with Dad. Even after receiving the customary monetary gift he gave her after we got married, she had never called him "Dad" out of appreciation.

I had tried explaining it to her many times, but she never listened.

It wasn't until I secretly overheard a conversation between her and Warren that I understood why she never warmed up to my dad. The reason she refused to acknowledge him wasn't because of any past disagreement.

She looked down on him. In her eyes, someone from such humble roots wasn't worthy of being her father-in-law.

But during video calls, she happily called Warren's father "Dad", and he was a construction worker.

Dad worked the same kind of labor-intensive job as he did. However, Cara treated him as if he were worthless and repulsive.

Even the room that should have been reserved for Dad had been converted into a storage room because she would rather fill it with clutter than let him stay there. As a result, every time he came to visit me, he had to stay in a motel.

Dad was the father-in-law to a CEO with a net worth in the millions. But when he came to visit his son and his daughter-in-law, he had to stay in cheap motels that only cost a few dozen dollars a night.

If I told people that, they probably wouldn't believe it.

Suddenly, a group of people arrived at the door. "Condolences for your father's passing."

They were relatives from my father's side of the family. There were several uncles, aunts, and cousins.

I nodded and poured them drinks.

"How come Cara isn't here for your dad's funeral?"

One of my aunts, Betty Fisher, was dressed in a bright, fashionable outfit and looked around curiously. When she didn't see Cara anywhere, she asked about it.

The others hadn't even glanced at Dad's memorial.

The blabbermouth Betty said, "Don't tell me it's really like everyone said. Are you really faking your dad's death to get attention? What a mess. No wonder Cara is closer to that assistant of hers. You're so useless. You can't even keep your own wife under control.

"What a shame. I was planning to have her introduce a match for my nephew, you know? Preferably an only daughter of a wealthy family."

She openly stated the purpose of her visit without the slightest restraint.

I clenched my fists.

In their eyes, only Cara's wealth and status mattered. They had never thought much of Dad or me. I had assumed that, at the very least, they would respect Dad out of family ties.

It turned out I had been deluding myself.

Pointing at the door, I said frigidly, "Get out."

They were stunned. Betty was about to put on airs as an elder, but I didn't give her the chance.

When none of them moved, I grabbed a wreath nearby and hurled it at them. "Get out! All of you, get out!"

I drove them all outside in one furious sweep and slammed the door shut amid their astonishment.

After cursing outside for a while, my relatives left.

I said, "Dad, I'm the only one here to see you off on your final journey. I hope you won't mind."

After tidying up the memorial hall, I took Dad's urn to the cemetery by myself and laid him to rest.

The next day, I went to the company to resign, my eyes bloodshot from staying up all night.

The moment I stepped into the HR office, I heard people discussing a new directive from Cara. She had instructed them to arrange a new office for Warren and to renovate it.

"Ms. Lavigne really spoils Warren. Not only is she giving him a private office, but she's even planning to get him a new house. I'm so jealous."

As they spoke, someone noticed me and hurriedly warned the others.

"Mr. Zane." The employee who had been speaking greeted me reluctantly with a grimace.

I handed over my resignation letter.

Ignoring their discussion, I calmly said, "I'm here to process my resignation."

The HR staff froze for a moment before instinctively rejecting it. "You need to initiate an OA application to resign."

I answered, "That's not necessary. I have authorization to resign directly. Ms. Lavigne signed this document that gives me permission."

I handed over the paperwork.

I had obtained it from Cara a month ago. I took the blame for Warren and accepted responsibility for the project's losses. In return, she gave me the right to resign directly and waived the non-competing clause.

"As long as you take the blame for Warren, I'll sign it," Cara had said.

While seated in her luxurious office chair, she had continued, "But can you really bear to resign? The company gives you one of the highest salaries in the industry. If you leave, do you think you'll ever find a position this good?

"Don't act out of anger. I'm only helping Warren because I feel sorry for him. If that's why you're upset, it's unnecessary."

What she didn't know was that this wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision. I had made up my mind to resign a long time ago.

The moment she promoted Warren over more senior employees to Executive Assistant and gave him authority to recruit staff beyond his role, I had already started planning my departure.

"Sign it. I'll take full responsibility," I said.

After confirming the document's authenticity, HR began processing my resignation.

Around me, people whispered.

"I've never heard Warren mention this document. Could this be another one of Julian's stunts for Ms. Lavigne's affection?"

"He sure has a lot of tricks. His dad's death didn't get Ms. Lavigne's attention, so he's using resignation as a threat now. What a schemer."

I paid no attention to them. I let them take photos and gossip about me in their private group chats. Once I received my resignation certificate, I left without looking back.

…

In the blink of an eye, three days passed by. Today was the day I was scheduled to receive my divorce decree. I went to the courthouse early that morning and obtained it without any trouble.

At the same time, I saw dozens of new posts Warren had uploaded. He must have unblocked me. All of his posts had been published over the past three days.

As I scrolled through them one by one, I realized that every place Cara had taken him was somewhere she had always promised to take me but never had.

The promises she once made to me were now being fulfilled for Warren. Even the angles of the photographs were the same ones she had specially learned for my sake.

Now, she was using them all on Warren.