On every holiday, Blake would surprise me with thoughtful gifts, eager to show me off to his friends.

When we were apart, he'd text "I miss you" countless times a day.

He'd also seethe with jealousy if anyone so much as looked at me, his eyes burning with rage.

Once, he told me, "Karen, do you know? My family is full of twisted monsters. You're the only one who's ever shown me what true love really is."

Blake's insecurities ran deep. He constantly needed reassurance, asking me over and over if I still loved him.

All I could do was hold him close each time, my heart heavy, until he finally drifted off to sleep in my arms.

I was certain we would stay like that forever.

So when he suddenly became distant, I was completely thrown off balance.

Myra was a recent university graduate.

The first time I heard her name was when Blake's secretary mentioned her. "The young women today have no creativity," she said. "Spilling coffee on the CEO? That's such an outdated cliché."

I laughed it off, thinking it was just some office drama.

But soon after, Myra was appointed as Blake's personal assistant, breaking all the usual rules.

Blake then began taking her horseback riding.

She didn't know how to ride, so he held her from behind, the two of them sharing a horse as they rode through the open fields.

She was completely unfamiliar with the ins and outs of the business world. Thus, Blake took the time to guide her patiently, even showing her how to make a cup of coffee.

One day, a disrespectful business partner cracked a crude joke at Myra's expense.

Blake, usually so composed, snapped in an instant. He ended up sending the man to the hospital.

Blake didn't even try to hide it. Everyone could see how he lavished attention on Myra.

By the time the rumors reached me, they were already attending public events hand-in-hand, exchanging kisses under the playful stares of onlookers.

As I looked at the photos people sent me, I lost my temper with Blake for the first time.

He just sat quietly in his executive chair, staring at me. His eyes seemed to suggest that I was being the unreasonable one here.

"Karen, you're almost 30. Why are you getting jealous of someone younger?

"Back when you were in your 20s, I treated you just the same, didn't I?"

In that moment, it felt like I had plunged into a freezing abyss.

That's when it finally dawned on me—Blake's love was always exclusive, but it was only ever for younger women.

I had already passed that stage.

I had planned to divorce him, but I soon found out I was pregnant.

With my child and family in mind, I chose to give our relationship one last try. I asked my father to arrange for Myra to be sent abroad.

As expected, the outcome was inevitable.

Nine years together, and I meant nothing to Blake.

I felt completely defeated.

My father asked for three days to sort things out.

With our relationship with the Sullivan family irreparably damaged, there was no longer a place for us in this country.

I used that time to schedule an abortion for the same day.

The love Blake and I once shared had disappeared, and there was no reason to carry his child any longer. After all, there would be no shortage of young women eager to have his children.

But when I met with the doctor, I found out that my gestational sac was too large. As such, I would need an induction procedure, which required hospitalization.

With only three days left in the city, I had no choice but to delay the procedure for now.

On my way back, I consulted a lawyer about divorce.

The moment they heard it was Blake's case, they all hesitated, pulling back immediately.

"Ms. Irving, Mr. Sullivan's company has a team of elite lawyers. We're afraid we're not equipped to handle this case."

I understood and didn't press them any further.

When Blake and I married, I chose to be a full-time housewife.

He insisted he didn't want me in the public eye, and, naively, I listened for five long years.

Now, all my connections were tied to him. Even if I wanted help, there was no one left to turn to.

But that was fine.

Once he brought Myra into the picture, divorce would be easy enough.

I quickly ran through a mental list of everything in the house.

I left behind the valuables, only taking a few seasonal clothes and my identification documents.

The exhaustion from the pregnancy weighed heavily on me. By the time I finished packing, it was late, and I ended up falling asleep on the couch.

The next morning, I was startled awake by the sound of the door opening.

I sprang up in panic.

To my shock, Blake had returned home.

And he was holding hands with a young woman—Myra.

She was stunning, her beauty even more mesmerizing in person than in the photos.

She held several luxury shopping bags, the diamonds on her heels gleaming so brightly they almost hurt my eyes.

It was clear she was already completely taken with him.

A heavy weight settled in my chest. I hadn't expected Blake to come back so quickly. Instinctively, I pressed my hand to my throat.

The suffocating sensation from before returned, and I felt a surge of fear toward Blake.

I swallowed hard and got up from the couch.

Blake guided Myra in front of me. With a smile on his face, he tenderly adjusted her hair before turning to me, his expression cold and distant.

"Karen, apologize to Myra."

I stood frozen, unable to process what I was hearing.

After everything—our broken marriage, him ruining my family's livelihood, and the fact that just yesterday he tried to strangle me—I thought I had already seen how cruel he could be.

But now, he was asking me to apologize to his mistress.

Noticing my stunned silence, Blake wasted no time. He gripped my chin hard, forcing my face to turn toward Myra.

"Did you hear me? I said apologize to Myra."

Blake was a businessman, and he knew exactly how to break someone from the inside. Even if that someone was his wife, the woman he once claimed to love.

Since stepping into the room, Myra hadn't even bothered to look at me.

She kept her eyes cast downward, her lips curled into a pout.

Without saying anything, she played the part of the wronged, helpless woman perfectly.

"Mr. Sullivan, there's no need for this. I know that our relationship isn't exactly respectable… It's only natural that she resents me."

But even as she spoke, I saw Myra roll her eyes and give me a sharp glare.

Noticing I wasn't reacting, she pulled on Blake's sleeve.

"Mr. Sullivan, I'm a little tired… Can I go rest now?"

Blake kissed Myra on the cheek, his voice soft and tender. "Alright, rest in the room."

Myra glanced at me with those wide eyes, her tone laced with doubt. "This is your home, so where am I supposed to rest?"

With that, Blake brazenly led her into our bedroom.

The message couldn't have been clearer.

I couldn't stop shaking. My teeth were clenched, and it took every ounce of self-control not to explode at them in fury.

I struggled to control my breathing as I watched Blake gently guide Myra into the room. Staring at his back, I spoke in a strained voice, "Blake, let's get a divorce.

"You shattered my dignity without a second thought and turned my parents' lifetime of hard work into rubble."

I looked at him, my eyes swollen and red, struggling to keep my composure. "It's all my fault. I was blind back then."

Blake raised an eyebrow at my words.

He stood before me, hands in his pockets, his striking face leaning in close to mine.

His expression was grim, a cryptic look in his eyes that I couldn't fully grasp.