A sharp pain lanced through my chest.

I stared hard at the man in front of me. "Do you really feel that much for her?"

Finn didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed the back of my head harder, his kiss turning fiercer.

His fingers dug into my hair, like he wanted to crush me into his very bones, to swallow me whole.

His hot breath fanned my face.

The car door behind me was locked.

I had nowhere to go.

I could only close my eyes and endure an intimacy that wasn't meant for me.

When our lips finally parted, he whispered by my ear, still lost in a drunken fog.

"...Don't leave me."

I slowly closed my eyes. After a long silence, I took a document out of my bag and held it in front of him.

"If you really don't want me to leave, then sign this."

Finn looked at me with those blurry, drunken eyes.

I knew he was looking through me, seeing someone else.

But in the end, he signed his name on the paper.

"Once the divorce is finalized in a month, Finn, we’ll both be free."

I gave a sarcastic little laugh, staring at the signed divorce agreement in my hand, my mind a whirl of thoughts.

The moonlight spilled gently into the car, and suddenly I remembered the first time I met Finn.

It was in the Harvard Law library.

I’d just published a pretty controversial article in the Harvard Law Review, and a bunch of academic types were ganging up on me.

One of them even grabbed my wrist, hard.

Just when I felt like I was suffocating, a hand shot out and clamped down on that guy’s wrist, so tight I almost heard a bone crack.

"Starting a fight in the library? You trying to get expelled?"

A low, cold voice, sharp as a razor, cut through the air.

I looked up and met a pair of dark, intense eyes.

My heart gave a little flutter.

Later, I found out the man who’d stepped in was none other than my unseen rival.

Finn Cross.

From then on, I started making frequent "business trips" to New York.

I saw him in court, leaving Wall Street lawyers speechless.

I watched him smoke by the floor-to-ceiling windows of skyscrapers, a king surveying his domain.

I even started showing up at the private clubs he went to, but he never recognized me.

Until that night, I found Finn at a whiskey bar, completely wasted.

He gripped my wrist, his voice hoarse, "Why do you have to leave?"

I didn't understand what he meant, but before I could think, his lips were on mine.

That night, our skin touched, our breaths mingled.

His hands roamed over my body, setting every inch of me on fire.

The next morning, he woke up.

He stared at me, naked beside him, and the clothes scattered everywhere, for a long, silent moment.

"Let's get married. I'll take responsibility."

After a pause, I nodded.

Then I turned around and resigned as a partner at my firm.

I hid my identity as "Vicky," the legal eagle, and married him.

After we got married, he was always cold, rarely came home, and never shared my bed again.

The fire of that night felt like a dream I’d made up.

I thought it was just his nature, and I hoped I could warm his heart with gentleness.

Until one day, I found that photo in his study.

A girl in a red dress, standing by the Charles River in Cambridge, her smile so bright it stung my eyes.

The words on the back stabbed me like a knife:

"Since I can't marry you, it doesn't matter who I marry."

Later, I learned she was his first love, a famous ballet dancer.

Elena Rose.

After graduation, Elena chose to study in Europe and broke up with him.

All these years, he still couldn't forget her.

The reason he’d gotten so drunk that night was because he’d heard Elena had a new European boyfriend.

During our three years of marriage, I saw him toss the scarf I knitted for him into a corner.

I saw him throw the birthday present I’d carefully picked out into the junk room.

And I saw him, after hearing Elena was coming back to the country, dump me on the side of the road during an attack of acute gastroenteritis.

As I was collapsing, he told me to call my own ambulance before peeling out to rush to the airport to pick her up.

In that moment, my heart completely died.

I wasn't so desperate that I had to chase a man who wasn't mine.

Especially when his heart already belonged to someone else.

If that's the case, why not become Vicky again and let him and Elena finally be together?

After putting the divorce agreement in my bag, I drove back to Mount Pleasant.

After getting Finn into the master bedroom, I started packing, working through the night.

The next morning, Finn woke up, sober, and the first thing he saw was luggage everywhere.

He frowned slightly, his voice cool as he asked, "What are you doing?"

I was folding clothes. I paused for a second, then went on tidying up like nothing was wrong.

"Just packing away some seasonal clothes," I said casually.

Since we got married, I’d gotten used to handling these household chores.

As for Finn, he never paid any attention to what I did.

He didn't press it, just walked straight to the bathroom.

When I’d finished packing everything and was ready to leave, the doorbell rang.

Elena Rose stood outside, dressed in an ivory white suit, looking as elegant as a model straight out of a magazine.

"Hello, I'm an old friend of Finn's," she said with a gentle smile. "Is he home?"

Old friend. Right.

I let her in.

The moment Finn saw her, his eyes lit up. "What are you doing here?"

Elena handed him a thick legal document, her voice soft. "I'm getting a divorce, but things are a bit tricky. Can you help me?"

I glanced at the file.

It involved property division across US and Swiss nationalities, with over two million dollars in dispute.

It wasn’t just messy. It was a warzone.

Finn agreed without a second thought, even immediately calling his assistant to cancel all his appointments.

His law partner, Marcus, called him, shocked, asking why he’d take on a case he was bound to lose.

Finn just said, "I've got this."

I stood there, watching it all with cold eyes.

I knew this case was a long shot. It involved complicated European and American laws, and Finn, who always specialized in criminal cases, had never touched divorce law.

But he took it anyway.

Only because the client was Elena.

In the days that followed, Finn buried himself in the case files, practically living and breathing them.

Elena came over almost every day to "discuss the case."

Every day, a different fancy dessert, imported chocolates, beautiful flowers – he showered her with all the little attentive things I’d never gotten.

I was like an invisible person no one cared about, watching this man who felt both familiar and like a stranger, quietly packing up the things I wasn’t planning to take.

One afternoon, stressed out and hitting a wall, a colleague suggested he get help from "Vicky."

That legendary queen of civil litigation.

Finn, for the first time ever, actually went searching for her contact information.

He dialed the number.

My phone rang.

He called ten times.

No one answered.

He had no idea the person he was looking for was sitting right there in the living room.

A bitter taste filled my mouth.

Look at that. He didn't even have my number saved.

When I heard him say he was going to my old firm to ask around, I had to speak up, mentioning a few key legal points.

"How do you know this stuff?" he asked, surprised.

"I studied law too," I said lightly. "Seen plenty of cases like this."

Watching me talk so easily about it, Finn really looked at me for the first time, like he was seeing me in a new light.

But I just smiled and went back to my folding.

A few weeks later, he excitedly told me Elena’s case was won.

I just nodded coolly. "Congratulations."

Elena invited me to her ballet charity gala.

I wanted to say no, but Finn insisted I go with him.

He said, “You’ll love it. It’s important to her.”

At the gala, Elena’s manager, Alice, told me that Finn had never missed a single one of Elena’s performances over the years.

He always sent her favorite champagne roses.

I listened quietly as the final, ugly puzzle piece slid into place.

So that’s what all those "important meetings" and "urgent business trips" were really about.

In that moment, I truly understood where I stood with him.

Just a placeholder, easily ignored.

And now, he could finally, openly, pursue his true love.

And me?

I was done pretending.

It was time for me to start my new life.

In the following days, I started sorting out the division of assets.

According to New York state marriage laws, I was entitled to half of Finn’s assets acquired after the marriage.

But I only took the cash.

I gave up the mansion, the sports cars, the stocks – everything else.

Then I donated all the money to a children's cancer foundation.

Finn didn’t show up once.

Of course not. He was too busy playing knight-in-shining-suit for Elena.

So imagine my surprise when Elena herself asked to meet me—at a café near Central Park, no less.

"Victoria, can we talk?" Her tone was gentle, but I could hear she was testing the waters.

We sat across from each other, and Elena got straight to the point. "Are things okay between you and Finn?"

I took a sip of my latte and smiled faintly. "I'm moving out of New York tomorrow."

Hearing that, a flicker of poorly hidden joy crossed Elena's face.

"You're leaving? Is it because of me? Actually, Finn and I are ancient history—"

"Elena," I cut her off, looking her straight in the eye. "Even if you've moved on, he hasn't. He has all your performance videos on his phone. When he's drunk, your name is the only one he calls out. Every year on your birthday, he drinks himself into a stupor alone, until morning."

I put down my coffee cup, my voice frighteningly calm. "No matter how hard I try, I can't get into his heart. So, why keep up this ridiculous act?"

Elena was stunned. It took her a moment to process. "You... you're really getting a divorce?"

"It's all finalized. The cooling-off period ends tomorrow. From then on, Finn’s life has nothing to do with me."

I stood up to leave.

That should’ve been the end.

But fate had one more humiliation for me.

Just as I pushed the door open, a group of aggressive animal rights activists rushed towards us—they were holding signs saying "Elena Kills Innocent Animals," and they were extremely agitated.

My face changed.

I quickly locked the door again.

We were trapped in the café.

Elena frantically called Finn.

Ten minutes later, he rushed in, his suit all rumpled, looking like he’d run all the way.

Seeing Elena, he immediately said, "The only way is for you two to switch clothes. I'll take Elena out the back."

Elena turned to me, her eyes full of silent pleading.

I gave a bitter smile and took off my jacket, handing it to her.

Finn didn't even glance at me as he shielded Elena and left.

Seconds later, the protesters realized they’d been duped. They stormed in.

"That's not Elena! She's a fake!"

The angry crowd surrounded me.

Someone yanked my hair. Someone else threw hot coffee. I felt a boot slam into my ribs.

My body curled in on itself, trying to shield what I could.

It wasn’t until someone shouted “Cops are coming!” that they fled, leaving me bruised and burned on the floor.

Only a trembling waiter helped me up.

I dragged myself to the hospital, got my injuries treated, then went home to finish packing.

I was on the phone with the airline, confirming my flight, when Finn came back.

He heard me say "tomorrow morning's flight" and casually asked, "Taking a little trip?"

"Seeing some friends," I replied calmly.

He nodded. "Good, you should get out for a bit."

Then his eyes landed on my bandaged arm. “Damn, they really went after you. Sorry—I didn’t think it would get that bad.”

You didn't think?

Or you just didn't care?

I smiled faintly and didn't answer.

He walked away and disappeared into his study—probably texting Elena again, the door clicking shut like punctuation on our story.

Watching that door slowly close, I nodded to myself.

It was time.

The next morning, I got my divorce certificate.

When I got home, I ran into Finn, who was just about to leave.

"I need to tell you something," I said.

Finn glanced at his watch. "I don't have time right now, something urgent came up. Can we talk tonight?"

"Let's talk now," I said, pulling the divorce certificate from my bag and handing it to him.

He took it without looking, casually tossing it into a hall drawer. "Aren’t you going on vacation or something? No rush to come back. Enjoy yourself."

No rush?

There would be no coming back.

I dragged my suitcase out the mansion's front door.

In my heart, I said goodbye to him one last time.

Goodbye to these three demeaning years.

Goodbye, Finn.

The next time we meet, I won't be your wife.

I'll be your arch-enemy, Vicky.