A few days later, the Walsh Group held its anniversary gala, and the venue sat on the top-floor banquet hall of my club.

They specifically requested me to serve.

When I appeared in the banquet hall carrying a tray of drinks, almost everyone recognized me.

Mocking gazes pricked at me like needles.

I kept my eyes forward and tried to minimize my presence.

But they refused to let me off easily.

Brenna held a glass of champagne and deliberately bumped into me.

Red liquid instantly soaked the white shirt over my chest.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to." She apologized with her words, but her eyes held no remorse, only provocation.

I gripped the tray tightly and took a deep breath. "It's fine."

I refused to conflict with her on an occasion like this. It offered no benefit to my plans.

I turned to head backstage and change, but she blocked me again. "Dear sister, don't rush off. We haven't seen each other in so long. Let's chat."

She pulled me to the poolside where few people lingered.

The night breeze carried a chill.

"Michelle, do you hate me now?" She swirled her glass and smiled triumphantly. "Let me tell you, this is just the beginning. I'll take back everything you once had, one by one."

I looked at her and suddenly found it amusing. "Brenna, what makes you think those things ever belonged to you?"

Her smile stiffened. "Because I'm the biological daughter of the Walsh family! And you are nothing but an unwanted bastard!"

I could not hold back and slapped her across the face.

The crisp sound rang out sharply in the quiet night.

She clutched her cheek and stared at me in disbelief. "You dared to hit me?"

I sneered. "So what if I hit you? Say that again, and I'll throw you into this pool to feed the fish."

My glare must have terrified her, for she instinctively stepped back.

But soon she composed herself, her eyes turning venomous. "Good. Very good. Michelle, you asked for this."

With that, she suddenly screamed, "Help! Murder!"

At the same time, she fell backward and plunged straight into the pool behind her.

I stood frozen, my mind blank.

I never expected her to frame me with such a clumsy trick.

Almost instantly, Javier rushed over with a group of people.

He saw Brenna struggling in the water, jumped in without a word, and pulled her out.

Brenna clung to him, shivering. "Javier, it was her... she pushed me! She tried to kill me!"

Javier wrapped a towel around Brenna, looked up at me, his gaze cold enough to flay me alive. "Michelle, what do you have to say for yourself?"

I opened my mouth but realized explanation proved pointless.

Would it help?

Would he believe me?

I looked at Javier, the man I once thought would support me for life.

He held another woman and judged me with accusing eyes.

"Lock her in the storage room. No one releases her without my permission." He scooped Brenna into his arms and walked past me.

He did not even spare me another glance.

Two security guards grabbed my arms and dragged me away roughly.

In the cold, dark storage room, I curled up in the corner, shaking all over.

I lost track of time until the door finally opened.

Javier stood in the doorway, backlit so I could not make out his expression.

He approached and looked down at me. "Let's divorce."

I lifted my head and stared at his blurred outline.

Tears finally fell uncontrollably.

After loving him for so many years, this proved the reward. "Let's divorce."

It felt utterly ridiculous.

I wiped away the tears, stood up, and said, "Fine."

Early the next morning, Javier's people drove me to the entrance of the city hall.

Throughout the entire process, we exchanged no unnecessary words.

We acted like two complete strangers handling the most routine procedure.

The clerk proved an older woman who glanced at us, then at our documents. "Have you both thought this through? You look like a good match. Whatever misunderstanding you have, talking it out would help."

Javier tapped the table impatiently. "Can we hurry this up?"

The woman sighed and said no more, starting the paperwork.

Photos, forms, signatures.

My hand shook so badly I could barely hold the pen.

I had whispered Javier's name in my heart thousands of times and secretly written it countless times on paper.

Now I had to personally sever it from mine forever.

I watched Javier finish signing, toss the pen aside, lean back in his chair, and close his eyes.

His profile remained striking, but exhaustion and irritation etched between his brows.

I suddenly wanted to ask him if, in these three years, he had ever truly loved me even for a moment.

But the words reached my lips and I swallowed them back.

Why humiliate myself further.

It became my turn.

I took a deep breath, picked up the pen, and wrote my name stroke by stroke.

After the final stroke, all my strength drained away.

The clerk gathered the documents and picked up the red stamp.

Once it fell, nothing would tie us together anymore.

I stared fixedly at that stamp.

My heart felt gripped by a hand that squeezed tighter inch by inch.

I had loved him, truly and deeply.

But he had extinguished that love with his own hands.

Just as the stamp hovered about to fall.

Javier's phone rang suddenly.

The harsh ringtone proved jarring in the quiet room.

He answered irritably. "What is it? Don't you know I'm busy?"

Whatever the person on the other end said changed his expression instantly.

From annoyance to shock to utter disbelief.

His eyes snapped wide open and fixed on me as if seeing me for the first time.

"What did you say?" His voice trembled.

The caller replied briefly.

Javier's body jerked violently, and the phone slipped from his hand, crashing to the floor.

He seemed drained of all strength, his lips quivering but unable to form words.

The next second, Javier lunged forward like a madman. "Stop! Don't stamp it!"

The clerk froze with the stamp mid-air, staring at him in bewilderment.

Everyone in the hall turned to look at us.

The clerk jumped in fright and dropped the stamp on the table. "Sir, what are you doing? Don't be rash!"

Javier ignored her completely and stared fixedly at me, his eyes swirling with complex emotions.

Shock, regret, and even a trace of... panic?

I calmly pushed his hand away and said to the clerk, "Ma'am, please continue."

"Michelle!" He grabbed my wrist. "We're not getting divorced!"

"Why not?" I pulled free and looked at him coldly. "Javier, you were the one who asked for the divorce. Regretting it now doesn't seem a bit ridiculous?"

"I..." He opened his mouth as if to explain but found no starting point.

In the end, he could only repeat over and over, "We're not divorcing. Michelle, let me explain..."

I refused to waste more words on him and said directly to the clerk, "Please hurry. I'm in a rush."

The woman glanced at me, then at Javier who teetered on the edge of breakdown, her face full of hesitation. "Well... maybe you two should talk it over more?"

Amid the chaos, a younger clerk leaned in. "Clark, hasn't the stamp already been applied?"

He pointed at the papers on the table.

In the earlier commotion, the fallen stamp had landed perfectly on the divorce papers.

Javier followed his finger and froze completely.

The clerk handed us each a divorce paper. "You two, the procedure is complete."

I took mine and slipped it into my bag.

Then I turned decisively and walked away.

Just as I prepared to leave, a thud sounded behind me.

I looked back and saw Javier slump to the floor.

He tilted his head up at me, eyes red-rimmed. "Why?"

His voice rasped terribly, laced with endless despair and confusion. "Why did you hide it from me?"

I stopped and looked down at him. "Hide what from you? That my grandfather founded the Walsh Group, and Kaiden was just a student he sponsored? Or that the shares in my name were my inheritance from my grandfather, not charity from the Walsh family?"

His pupils contracted sharply.

I smiled. "Javier, I did try to tell you. Right after we married, I wanted to explain everything. But did you ever listen? Every time I mentioned my grandfather, you accused me of being ungrateful to the Walsh family, always clinging to a dead man. In your heart, the only thing that mattered was the Walsh family that could help you rise. You never truly respected me as the 'false heiress,' did you?"

Each word stabbed into his heart like a knife.

His face drained of color inch by inch.

Yes, he looked down on me.

That explained why, when Brenna returned, he sided with her without hesitation.

In his eyes, Brenna proved the legitimate Walsh heiress, the one who could bring him greater benefits.

While I remained nothing more than a disposable substitute.

Now he regretted it.

But regret offered no remedy in this world.

I withdrew my gaze and stopped looking at him. "Javier, from today on, we're even."

With that, I walked out of the city hall without looking back.

The sunlight outside shone brighter than ever.

And my new life officially began in that moment.