The voices of Julian and Eleanor blurred together in Chloe's ears. Every word was a needle prick. Scarlett's favorite foods. Scarlett's needs.

Chloe stood frozen. The opulent room, with its gold leaf and silk curtains, twisted before her eyes, morphing into a grotesque, gilded cage.

She remembered arriving here three years ago, her heart full of love for Julian, naively believing she could warm his.

But the day after their wedding, Scarlett had "unexpectedly" left New York under circumstances Chloe never fully understood. Julian had blamed her, beginning three years of a cold, silent war.

Chloe took a shallow breath, a final, desperate attempt. She walked toward him.

"Julian, can we talk?" Her voice was soft, but clear.

He finally looked up from his conversation with his mother, his brow furrowed with impatience. "I thought I made myself clear."

"I am your wife," Chloe said, summoning all her courage to meet his eyes.

A flicker of mockery crossed his face. He took a step closer, his tall frame shadowing her, and lowered his voice to a cruel whisper meant only for her.

"Wife? Chloe, don't forget how this marriage happened. If it weren't for what you did three years ago, do you think you'd be standing here?"

The accusation sent a chill through her entire body. In his mind, she would always be a manipulative, wicked woman.

Eleanor glided over, linking her arm with Julian's. She looked at Chloe with the air of a victor. "Chloe, a person should know their place. Don't cling to what isn't yours."

Chloe looked at the mother and son, at their identical expressions of cold disdain. A wave of physical nausea washed over her.

She didn't argue anymore. She just nodded, turned, and walked silently toward the grand staircase. Her back was straight, but each step felt like walking on knives.

Watching her go, Eleanor said to Julian, "You see? She's so ungrateful. Not even a hint of welcome for Scarlett's return."

Julian didn't reply. He just watched Chloe's figure disappear around the bend of the stairs, his brow tightening slightly, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes at her quiet compliance.

Chloe returned to the master bedroom, a space she had carefully curated for three years. Her favorite paintings hung on the walls. The books she read every night sat on the nightstand.

She didn't cry. She just stood there, silently looking around. Everything in this room was stained with her one-sided love and futile efforts.

She walked to the dressing room, opened her side of the closet, and began mechanically pulling out her clothes, placing them in a suitcase.

She didn't take the expensive gowns or the jewelry. Those were the shackles the Montgomerys had given her. She only packed a few simple, everyday clothes she had bought herself.

While clearing a drawer, her hand brushed against a velvet box. She opened it. Inside were their wedding rings.

She picked up the man's ring. In three years, Julian had never worn it for a single day. Its shine was a mockery.

She placed both rings back in the box and tossed it into the deepest corner of the drawer. It was the first thing she had done for herself in years.

After filling one suitcase, her phone rang. The screen displayed the name "Aden." Aden Lane, her best friend.

She answered, trying to keep her voice steady. "Aden?"

"Chloe? You don't sound right. Did the old witch give you hell again?" Aden's voice was sharp with concern.

Hearing her friend's voice, the dam Chloe had built inside her finally cracked. Her eyes welled up.

She walked to the window. Below in the garden, servants were already at work, following Eleanor's orders to arrange decorations for Scarlett's welcome.

Chloe took a deep breath. "Aden," she said into the phone, "I'm done. I'm ending it all."

There was a moment of silence on the other end, then Aden's unwavering support came through. "Good! Wait for me. I'm coming to get you right now. I'll stand by you no matter what."

Hanging up, Chloe felt the massive stone that had been crushing her for three years finally begin to shift. She knew leaving here meant losing everything, but she would gain her freedom.

For three years, she had avoided thinking about this possibility. But today, there was nothing left to hold onto.

She pulled out her phone again and found a number. It belonged to the most famous divorce lawyer in New York.

She sent a text.

"Hello, this is Chloe White. I need your help. As soon as possible."

After sending the text, Chloe clutched her phone like a lifeline. She stood at the window, her gaze fixed on the long, winding driveway of the estate.

Down below, Eleanor was directing the gardeners to rip out a patch of blue irises Chloe had planted herself. They were her mother's favorite flowers. They were being replaced with pink roses, Scarlett's favorite.

Seeing this, Chloe felt something inside her finally break. Whatever attachment she had left to this place disappeared completely.

She turned away from the scene, grabbed her single suitcase, and walked out of the master bedroom.

For three years, she had swallowed every insult. But today, she no longer needed their approval.

As she reached the top of the staircase, she came face to face with Eleanor, who was on her way up.

Eleanor saw the suitcase and a contemptuous smile spread across her face. "What's this? Finally have the decency to get out?"

Chloe stopped. For the first time, she didn't lower her head. She looked directly into Eleanor's eyes.

"Yes," she said calmly. "I'm leaving. I don't want to spend another second in this place."

Eleanor was taken aback by her unprecedented firmness, then her face flushed with anger. "What is this attitude? Chloe, don't you forget who gave you everything you have!"

A cold smile touched Chloe's lips. "You? The only thing you've given me is endless humiliation. As for what the Montgomery family has given me, I'll return every last cent."

"You... you ungrateful—" Eleanor sputtered, her face turning red with anger.

Her tirade was cut short by the screech of tires. A flashy red Ferrari drifted to a perfect stop in front of the mansion.

The driver's door swung open and a handsome, stylishly dressed young man emerged. He took off his sunglasses. It was Aden Lane.

Aden strode toward the front door, raising an eyebrow at the security guard who tried to stop him. "I'm here to pick up your former lady of the house." He emphasized the word "former."

Eleanor's expression darkened. She recognized Aden as the second son of the Lane family, a notorious playboy in New York's high society, and the one person who had never turned his back on Chloe.

Chloe ignored the furious Eleanor, pulled her suitcase, and descended the stairs one step at a time toward Aden.

When Aden saw her, his playful demeanor vanished. He rushed to meet her and took the suitcase from her hand. His voice was full of concern. "It's okay. I'm here."

Chloe nodded, a wave of relief washing over her. For the first time in three years, she felt a ray of hope.

She slid into the passenger seat of the Ferrari. Aden closed the door, shutting out the sound of Eleanor's shouting.

The car sped away. As he drove, Aden handed her a bottle of water.

"The lawyer is already handling it," he said. "I pulled some strings. The papers will be ready this afternoon. Are you sure you want to confront him at the airport?"

Chloe twisted the cap off and took a sip, her eyes firm. "I'm sure. I want to hand him this declaration of war in front of her."

Aden glanced at her determined profile and sighed. "Alright. Whatever you want to do, I've got your back."

The next afternoon, at JFK International Airport's VIP lounge, Julian anxiously watched the flight information display, waiting for Scarlett's plane to land.

He hadn't felt this mix of anticipation and nervousness in years. It reminded him of the feelings he had buried for three years and strengthened his belief that Scarlett was the one he had always wanted.

Finally, an announcement confirmed the arrival of her flight. Julian straightened his tie and walked briskly to the arrivals gate.

Soon, a woman in a white dress appeared in the crowd. She had reddish-brown curls and a slender frame. She looked pale, almost fragile. It was Scarlett Finch.

Julian immediately went to her, draping his suit jacket over her shoulders. His voice was softer than Chloe had ever heard it.

"Scarlett, welcome back."

Scarlett gave him a weak, teary-eyed smile. "Julian, I missed you so much. I thought I'd never see you again."

In the middle of this touching reunion, a cool voice cut through the air.

"Julian Montgomery."

Julian and Scarlett turned in unison. Standing not far away was Chloe. She was dressed in simple jeans and a white t-shirt, but she stood tall, radiating a powerful aura that was a world away from the meek woman in the mansion.

Chloe ignored Scarlett's shocked stare, walked directly up to Julian, and slapped a file against his chest.

"Sign it," she said. "And we're even."

On the cover, in bold letters, were the words: DIVORCE AGREEMENT.