"Oh my God, the way Ms. Simmons is looking at her boyfriend—it's practically dripping with love. She's so in love. This is literally a girl-boss CEO coming to life!"

"Yeah, I heard today is her boyfriend's birthday. During the day he made a wish that he wanted to watch a fireworks show, and Ms. Simmons threw down a million to make it happen. I'm so jealous."

"But I heard Ms. Simmons is already married…"

"So what? In rich families, holding the husband on the left and the lover on the right is totally normal. Besides, her husband is just a kept man. People like him only have money in their eyes and no love. He wouldn't care how many men Ms. Simmons has outside."

Lily and I could've been a fairy tale come to life.

She was the eldest legitimate daughter of the prestigious Simmons family. The family's future and only heir.

My family background was ordinary. I also had a mom who'd been bedridden for years and needed support.

Not long after we got together, I confessed my family's situation to her. I thought she'd be like everyone else—hearing about my bedridden mom, she'd feel like backing off.

But she didn't.

She just held my hand, eyes full of heartache for me. With a trembling voice, she said, "These years you've been so tired, haven't you? From now on, I'll be with you."

She told me, "Matthew, no matter where you go, no matter what you do, don't forget that I'm behind you."

Back then, a lot of people said meeting Lily was the luckiest thing in my life. Including me—I thought so too.

Back then, no one expected that a wedding I was looking forward to so much would not only brand me with a gold-digger label I couldn't tear off, but also drain away all the love she had for me.

Even now, I still remember. After I got that money, I rushed in a panic to pay for my mom's surgery. And my mom's attending doctor suddenly changed from the urgency of just moments before, speaking to me earnestly.

"Mr. Gilbert, your mother doesn't have any problems at all. Everything just now was Mrs. Simmons's test of you. She wanted to see whether you're actually qualified to be the Simmons family's son-in-law."

"She asked me to pass on that she's not very satisfied with your performance. If you want to continue sitting firmly in the position of the Simmons family's son-in-law, you'll need to work at it."

"Also, Mrs. Simmons will arrange a better medical team for your mother next, but she has one condition: she hopes you can keep your mouth shut about this matter."

Because of Aria Simmons's warnings—overt and covert—I didn't dare gamble with my mom's life. No matter how Lily misunderstood me, I never told her the truth.

But when I found out she was cheating, and there was an attractive, bright girl by her side, I still went crazy and started making a scene.

I grabbed her clothes, crying so hard I couldn't make a sound. Again and again I asked her humbly, "Lily, I'm begging you—can you not treat me like this?"

Facing my pleading, there wasn't the slightest softening on her icy face. She stiffly pried my hand open. Word by word, she said, "Matthew, on the day we got married, you raised your price on the spot and trampled my family's dignity under your feet. At that moment, in my heart, you were already dead."

"The you right now is nothing more than a woman I bought with money. What right do you have to demand anything of me?"

Later, she became even more unrestrained. The men around her were replaced again and again. The sleeping pills I kept in the nightstand emptied bottle after bottle in day after day of insomnia.

At this moment, I didn't have money to buy medicine. I could only turn around and go home. But when I reached the front door, I found the villa's main gate tightly shut, with not a bit of light inside.

I covered my stomach, which still faintly hurt, and with difficulty pressed the doorbell.

"Jasmine, are you there? Please help me open the door."

I clenched my teeth and shouted through the intercom.

The butler's cold voice crackled back. "Miss has just set a curfew. After ten o'clock, no one is allowed to enter or leave—including you. It's now 10:01. The curfew has passed. Sir, please don't make this difficult for us."

I touched the seventy dollars left in my pocket. A wave of bleakness washed over me.

I slowly lowered myself onto the front steps, clutching my stomach, hugging myself tight—trying to find some warmth.

But sitting there, I suddenly remembered my junior year of college. I'd finished my part-time job off-campus and rushed back, only to miss the dorm curfew. I was standing there, helpless, not knowing what to do—when Lily appeared like an angel descending from the sky. She brought me back to this villa and told me gently, "Matthew, the front door here is always open for you. This is your home. A place that belongs to you."

And now—I looked at what I'd once called home. It felt like a stranger's house.

I sat at the villa entrance all night. By the time Jasmine Lambert woke up and opened the door, my limbs had gone stiff and numb.

"Sir, why didn't you find somewhere to stay?" She rushed to help me up. "Hurry, come inside—you'll catch your death."

When her hand touched my frozen palm, she flinched. Something shifted in her eyes—pity, and something deeper.

She didn't say anything more. She hurried to the kitchen to make ginger soup.

These past three years, when everyone else despised me and cursed my name, only Jasmine believed in me. She'd told me once: "You're not the kind of man who's greedy for status. If you did what they say, you must have had no choice. I believe you."

Back then, we'd barely spent any time together—just the few visits I'd made before the wedding. But she was the one who chose to believe me. And Lily, who kept saying she loved me? She never did.

Funny, when you thought about it.

I finished the ginger soup and the breakfast Jasmine made, then went back to my room to wash up.

Just as I was about to rest, voices drifted through the door—a man's ingratiating tone, a woman's playful complaint.

"This is all your fault. Last night you didn't hold back at all—kept going and going. My waist is killing me."

"My fault. Want me to rub it for you?"

Lily's voice. That familiar, clear voice—except now it carried a happy, slightly hoarse lilt I barely recognized. When was the last time I'd heard her laugh like that?

My eyes landed on the divorce agreement sitting on the nightstand.

I got up, grabbed it, and walked out the door—only to find Lily and her lover, Simon Pruitt, locked in a passionate kiss in the hallway. His hand was sliding down her thigh.

"Sorry to interrupt," I said quietly. "I just need a few minutes."

The tenderness in Lily's eyes vanished the instant they landed on me, replaced by something sharp and cold. Simon stood beside her, arrogantly straightening his back, showing off the trail of red marks down his pale neck.

"Matthew—so you are home. I thought you missed curfew last night and had to sleep somewhere else."

I ignored his mockery.

I walked toward Lily.

"This is the divorce agreement I prepared. I'll pay back what I owe you. Every cent."

"Pay it back?" Lily's lips curved, but the smile never reached her eyes. "You don't even have a job. What are you going to use?"

So she knew. Three years without work, without income—she'd known all along.

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat. "How I pay it back is my business."

Before Lily could respond, Simon snatched the papers from my hand and started reading.

Then he burst out laughing.

"My God, look at all these typos! Matthew, where'd you find this lawyer? So unprofessional."

I didn't have money for a lawyer.

I'd typed this agreement myself last night, sitting in the doorway, copying an online template word by word.

"Have you made enough of a scene?" Lily's gaze dripped with contempt. "You think bringing up divorce will get my attention? Put away those pathetic little tricks."

She didn't give me a chance to respond.

She took Simon's hand and walked into her room.

Just like our wedding night—when I begged her to stay, and she walked into the study without looking back.

Once again, she shut me out.

But this time, I didn't knock.

I turned around and went back to my room.

After that, I started job hunting again.

This time, I didn't send resumes to companies.

I took a hotel housekeeping job. High pay, no background check.

Here, no one knew who I was.

No one would sneer and call me a gold digger.

Until half a month later.

I grabbed my cleaning supplies and headed toward Room 305, just like the supervisor instructed.

But when I pushed open the door, I froze.

"Well, well—isn't this the Simmons family's son-in-law? What, Ms. Simmons doesn't pay you enough? Is that why you're scrubbing hotel floors?"

"A hundred-year family fortune, and it still can't satisfy his appetite. Imagine what he'd do to an ordinary family—drain them dry."

"This is why you marry a good man. Someone like Simon—humble, strong, a real provider. Now that's who deserves to be the Simmons family's son-in-law."

The room erupted in mocking laughter.

Lily sat in the center, unsurprised by my presence. She toyed with Simon's fingers, eyes lowered, as if none of this had anything to do with her.

Simon soaked in their praise, smugness bleeding into his expression.

"Matthew, when I heard you worked here, I didn't believe it. But here you are." He pulled out the black card Lily had given him. "Short on cash? You should've said something. I can help."

His tone dripped with false generosity.

"Let's play a game, bro. Lily always says people shouldn't get something for nothing." He smirked. "One shot of liquor, ten thousand dollars. Fair, right?"

One shot, ten thousand.

Twenty-eight shots, and I could pay Lily back in full.

Then I could leave.

"Okay."

Lily's hand stilled. For once, she looked up at me.

Her eyes burned with something I couldn't name.

"For money, you'd really do anything." Her voice was cold, brittle. "If I gave you what you wanted—would you agree to anything?"

She sneered and pulled a divorce agreement from her pocket.

"Isn't this what you wanted? Spend one night with them, and I'll sign it."

The men in the private room stirred, their eyes crawling over me with naked hunger.

The blood drained from my face. I opened my mouth to refuse—

She signed her name without hesitation and threw the papers at me.

"If you want this divorce, Matthew, prove it."

Then she took Simon's arm and walked out without looking back.

Those sticky gazes made my whole body shudder.

"Lily, you can't do this to me—"

I lunged for the door, but someone yanked me back hard.

In the shifting shadows, the door slammed shut.

The last sliver of hallway light vanished.

Despair swallowed me whole.

I didn't even have room to resist.

The next morning, Lily's assistant knocked on her door.

A mocking smile curled her lips when she saw him rush in.

"Let me guess—he came crawling to you for help last night? I told you, the divorce was just a ploy to reel me back in—"

A breaking news alert cut across the TV.

"Last night at 10:15 p.m., a man surnamed Gilbert died at The Cloudview Hotel following an assault..."