My wife, Chelsea Sloane, has always been an avid user of computers when it comes to work. But one day, she suddenly falls in love with the idea of using pen and paper.

In fact, she loves one particular black pen to the point that she refuses to let anyone touch it.

Unable to endure her twisted obsession over that pen, I decide to bring up divorce before her on our wedding anniversary.

Enraged, Chelsea points at me and yells, "Are you seriously getting a divorce over a pen?"

I reply coolly, "Yup. It's precisely that."

"You're being unreasonable, Alex!"

Chelsea Sloane's eyes were red with anger, her voice trembling. "I know you're controlling, and that's why I've bent over backward for you all these years since we got married. But now, you're divorcing me over a pen?"

Our two-year-old son, Nathan Larsson, started crying loudly, clutching at her clothes. She hugged him tightly, swallowing back a sob. "It's okay, darling. You're fine."

She turned to me, her eyes full of hurt and accusation. "If you have any conscience at all, you should comfort our son."

I ignored her, my face blank, and stood up. "You'll receive the divorce papers tomorrow. Sign them as soon as you can."

The guests exchanged glances, whispering among themselves.

"All this over a fountain pen? Has Alex lost his mind?"

"They were supposed to be a model couple in the industry. What went wrong?"

"Do you have to ask? Obviously, there's someone else…"

I didn't care about their gossip. I grabbed my coat and walked out. Panic crossed Chelsea's eyes as she watched me leave.

Her foster brother, Joseph Sloane, rushed over and grabbed my arm, yanking hard. "Hey, Alex! Chelsea has treated you so well over the years, but you're divorcing her over a pen?"

He steadied Chelsea, holding her partly in his arms and gently wiping away the tears at the corners of her eyes. Her best friend, Valerie Cooper, couldn't hold back anymore.

Pointing at me, she yelled, "How could you? You promised back then to love Chels forever! I was blind to trust a scumbag like you!"

The guests joined in, voices rising in accusation.

"Chels is such a good wife. You were lucky to have married her! How could you not cherish her?"

"Alex, this is overboard. Quick, apologize to Chelsea!"

"This is a redundant fight. Just make up and live in harmony, alright?"

Amid the chorus of outrage, Chelsea finally broke. She clutched Nathan and sobbed, her grief spilling out. Her father, Arthur Sloane, finally spoke with a solemn look.

"Alex, I watched you grow up and trust your character. What happened? Tell us. I'll handle it for you."

My mother-in-law, Margaret Benson, choked out, "Think about Nathan. He's only two! There's got to be a way around this!"

Chelsea lifted her tear-filled eyes, red-rimmed but hopeful, as she looked at me. Nathan wriggled out of her arms and tugged at both my and her hands, his voice trembling. "Mommy, Daddy, don't cry…"

Every guest was moved. Their eyes urged me to end this farce.

I pulled my hand back coldly without hesitation. "I'm done with this life. Divorce is not up for discussion."

Chelsea froze, tears streaming down her face. Just then, Joseph exploded and grabbed my collar, almost lifting me off the ground. "Damn it! You're really asking for death, aren't you?"

Nathan screamed in fright, crying even louder.

My neck turned red from his grip, but I couldn't help smirking. "What's the matter? I thought you and your sister never got along. Now, all of a sudden, you're so… protective."

I paused deliberately, my gaze sweeping over how he was holding Chelsea protectively. "Could it be…"

Joseph stiffened, a flash of panic crossing his eyes. Then, as if to hide something, he shouted, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Chelsea cooked for you, climbed mountains in the rain to pray for you, and risked her life giving birth to your child! She's never wronged you a single time!" Joseph shouted, shaking with anger.

"Mom and Dad treated you like their own! Without the Sloanes, you wouldn't even be here today, you ingrate! When your parents ended up in a coma from that accident, it was Chelsea who nursed them for a whole year.

"If your parents knew what you're doing now, they wouldn't ever forgive an ungrateful son like you!"

I slapped Joseph across the face. The sound was sharp and clear. "How dare you speak of my parents?"

"What did you hit him for?" Chelsea screamed, rushing forward.

She cupped Joseph's swollen face, tears falling. "Why can't he bring them up? I was the one who cared for your parents through the end! Where were you? What right do you have to hit Joseph?"

I clenched my fists, my eyes cold and unrepentant, even itching to strike again. Arthur trembled with anger, his voice low and bitter. "You're a scum through and through!"

The guests all turned cold, watching me with eyes full of disgust.

Chelsea refusing to sign the divorce papers was well within my expectations, but I didn't have time to waste. The next day, I went straight to Nathan's preschool to confront her.

I stood under the shade of a tree, my eyes fixed on the two of them. Joseph moved naturally, his gestures intimate, almost as if he were the child's father.

And the black fountain pen—sleek and ominous—was tucked into the pocket at the chest of Chelsea's dress. I pushed through the crowd and walked straight up to them.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her smile frozen in an unnatural curve.

I pulled out the divorce papers and presented them to her. "Sign."

Joseph snapped instantly. "This isn't the time and place for you to throw a tantrum! When are you going to stop?"

The other parents and teachers were stunned, staring at us in disbelief.

"Hey, isn't that Nathan's father? Forcing his wife to sign the divorce papers in public? That's ridiculous."

"Their kid is right there! Can't he just wait until they get home?"

"And to think he looked like a gentleman. He's so heartless."

A female teacher hurried over, trying to mediate the situation. "Mr. Larsson, why don't you discuss this privately with Mrs. Larsson? This isn't good for the child."

Another parent chimed in. "It's normal for couples to have conflicts. Why bring it to the school? Mrs. Larsson seems kind and easygoing. Why can't you just talk it out?"

"Right? Forcing a mother to sign divorce papers in front of her kid is cruel!"

"For the sake of the child, you should've taken the higher road. Things will all smooth over."

"Is it really worth escalating to this point?"

Amid all the voices, Chelsea's eyes turned red in a flash. "I just… like using a pen. Does it really have to come to divorce over something so trivial?"

Joseph's voice shot higher as he grabbed my collar. "Because of your ridiculous need to control everything, you drag this to Nathan's school and make everything ugly. Are you even a man? Apologize to Chelsea now!"

Every gaze was fixed on me, sharp as a thousand thorns. In their eyes, I was the unreasonable man tearing my family apart.

Chelsea sighed, almost giving in. Then, she flung herself into my arms. "Honey, let's not fight anymore. Can't we just live our lives in peace? We've been through too much to let a stupid pen come between us."

With her yielding like this, everyone assumed I would finally back off.

I stayed indifferent, nudging the divorce papers toward Chelsea. She went pale, trembling, and could hardly speak. "Honey… are you really leaving Nathan and me?"

She cried so pitifully that even the other parents couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

"Just admit there's another woman!" Joseph seethed.

I only shot him a glance. "So what if there is?"

A few of the fathers nearby had had enough and rolled up their sleeves, ready to step in. I, however, fixed my eyes on the pen in Chelsea's pocket and changed my tone.

"If you won't sign, fine. Just give me the pen."

Her expression froze, and she instinctively clutched it tighter.

Joseph suddenly kicked me to the ground, his eyes dripped with an intent to kill. "You control freak. She's given so much for you! You said you didn't like the sound of the piano, so she quit playing the one instrument she's loved for 20 years.

"You said you disliked spicy food, so she gave up her favorite dishes to eat bland meals with you. And now, you want to take away the one pen she likes using?"

I stood up, staring at him with a smirk. "Let me remind you that this is my family matter. Why are you so worked up?"

My words instantly set the surrounding parents off. "You're a sick, controlling freak! Your wife can't even use a pen?"

"You think you're a tyrant or something? Your wife has the freedom to use whatever she wants!"

"I say sign the papers! Mrs. Larsson, you don't need a man like him! The sooner you leave him, the better!"

One of the mothers was so agitated that her chest heaved up and down, her finger trembling as she pointed it at me. "A man like you should've been run over on the street. You don't deserve to live!"

I ignored everyone else, my gaze fixed on Chelsea's pale face. "Sign the papers or give me the pen."

Her body wavered, as if the weight of humiliation and pressure was about to crush her. Under the sympathetic and urging eyes of everyone around, she slowly stood up.

Joseph's expression shifted instantly. He lunged and grabbed her wrist just as she reached for her pocket. His eyes were wide with disbelief. "You're really going to give it to him?"

She didn't flinch, though. Her eyes held a trace of comfort, like she was trying to soothe the storm.

His grip loosened instantly, as if he was thinking, "Right. So what if he got the pen? What could he possibly discover?"

His tense body visibly relaxed, and an amused smile soon curved his lips.

Chelsea lowered her head and handed me the pen. "Here, take it. We'll end this once and for all, okay, honey? Let's go home."

Her voice was heavy with resignation and compromise.

Once I acquired the pen, I didn't linger and walked away. I had already given them plenty of chances.

At the anniversary dinner party, I gave Chelsea the choice to be honest and end things cleanly. Earlier, I had given her one last chance to sign the papers with dignity.

Alas, greed controlled them. They greedily wanted to maintain the facade while making me out to be a fool. They thought deceit and public opinion were enough to cover the truth forever, keeping me nailed to the pillar of shame.

Well, fine.

I pulled out my phone. The surveillance footage showed Chelsea staring at the pen, licking it with abandon. I looked at her flushed face and couldn't help but let out a cold laugh.

In five days, during the Sloane family's livestreamed press conference, I would stop holding back and expose them for who they truly were.

When that day came, I stepped into the Sloane Group conference hall with confidence, silencing the chatter instantly. Every eye in the room was fixed on me, gleaming with schadenfreude.

Arthur caught sight of me and snorted heavily.