The doctor had advised Leyla to remain hospitalized for two full days, yet she insisted on checking out the very next morning and returned home immediately.

Driving back to the house, she saw that Shawn still had not come back.

Two days had passed without a word from him, not even a brief message.

Strangely, she did not feel shocked or even particularly hurt. Over the course of their two-year marriage, this pattern had repeated itself so often. Shawn never informed her of his plans or whereabouts.

Under the same roof, they existed more like distant tenants than husband and wife.

After stepping inside, Leyla prepared a simple meal for herself and took her medication as instructed. After that, she stretched out on the sofa, and drifted into sleep.

The sudden ring of the doorbell startled her awake. It took her a few seconds to gather herself. She pushed herself upright, walked slowly to the entrance, and opened the door.

There stood Corrine. The same woman who had been in the entertainment headline from earlier.

Leyla had previously only seen Corrine on television screens, renowned as an accomplished dancer. Seeing her in person was different. Corrine was even more striking up close.

She carried herself with the grace of a swan. Her features were refined and soft, yet beneath that gentleness lay a faint, almost undetectable edge of unfriendliness.

"Ms. Carter, hello. I'm Corrine Evans, Shawn's friend," Corrine said.

"I know," Leyla answered, looking up at Corrine. Her voice remained calm, revealing neither agitation nor submission.

"Please, come in, Miss Evans," Leyla added. It would have been discourteous to leave a visitor standing at the door.

Corrine accepted the invitation without hesitation and stepped inside.

Once they were in the living room, Leyla poured her a glass of water.

"I stopped by to return Shawn's watch. He left it at my apartment the other night. I tried reaching him earlier today, but he didn't pick up. Since he lives close by and I was already in the area, I figured I'd bring it over myself," Corrine explained.

She retrieved the watch from her handbag and set it gently on the coffee table. Her expression remained composed, her voice warm and polite. Yet each sentence felt deliberate.

Leyla had already guessed that Shawn had spent the night with Corrine. Still, without tangible evidence, she had been able to cling to a fragile sense of denial.

But Corrine's appearance at her doorstep, combined with those carefully chosen words, felt like an unmistakable challenge.

Leyla reached out and picked up the watch. She ran her fingers lightly over its surface. When she looked up again, she spoke even more calmly. "Thank you for bringing it over, Miss Evans. Shawn has always been absentminded. I've reminded him about it many times. He usually tells me that as long as I'm here, he won't lose anything permanently, so he never feels the need to be more careful."

Pausing for a second, she added, "It seems now he's caused inconvenience to someone outside the family. When he comes home, I'll make sure to speak with him so he doesn't trouble you again."

Corrine's smile almost froze. She clearly had not anticipated Leyla responding in that manner.

Before Corrine could recover and continue, Leyla gently signaled that the visit should end. "My stomach hasn't been great today, and I'm not feeling very well. I'm afraid I can't host you any longer, Miss Evans."

"That's fine. Please take care of yourself. I will take my leave now," Corrine replied as she stood up, flashing a composed smile once again.

Leyla escorted her to the door and watched as she walked away from the villa.

Only after she was a good distance from the house did Corrine wipe off the smile on her face.

Jealousy churned within her. In her mind, that mansion should have belonged to her. Instead, it was occupied by that useless housewife.

Of course, Shawn had gone to the airport to meet her for information about his parents' deaths. But throughout their encounter, his focus had remained entirely on the clues. He had shown no interest in how she had lived during the two years they had been apart.

After their conversation, he had driven her back to her apartment and prepared to leave immediately.

Refusing to let him walk away so easily, Corrine had intentionally spilled water on his hand. Forced to deal with it, Shawn had removed his watch and gone to the restroom to dry off. When he returned, he pressed her again for more details about his parents before leaving in haste, forgetting his watch behind.

Corrine found it difficult to accept that Shawn had truly married someone else. She could not reconcile the idea that a man like him would impulsively wed another woman simply because she had left the country.

Yet he actually had a wife now—the fragile, soft-spoken woman living in that mansion.

She had also heard that the marriage had been arranged personally by Garrett.

Regardless of who had arranged the union, Corrine was determined that Shawn would ultimately belong to her.

Her injured leg had ended her dancing career. Without Shawn, she would have no path back into the Evans family's favor.

After Corrine's departure, Leyla remained seated on the sofa, staring at the watch on her palm. It really was Shawn's. So he truly had been with Corrine.

Without warning, tears slid down her face. The sharp discomfort in her stomach, combined with the lingering soreness from the car accident, left her thoughts tangled and unfocused.

The doctor had cautioned her to rest and avoid emotional strain, yet her mind refused to quiet down.

She kept replaying the image of Shawn and Corrine together—how, in everyone's eyes, they seemed perfectly matched. In comparison, she felt like an intruder who had stepped into a place that was never meant to be hers. And soon, even the formal agreement that bound her to Shawn would come to an end.

Heartbroken, Leyla eventually drifted back to sleep. In her dream, her grandfather appeared before her, reminding her gently that no matter what life brought, she should always try to protect her happiness.

When Shawn came back that evening, he saw Leyla curled up asleep on the sofa. He approached quietly and stopped in front of her.

Although he hadn't made much noise, he had still ended up waking her.

When she opened her eyes and saw him, she hesitated briefly before sitting up. "You're home?"

The moment she spoke, she realized how strained her voice sounded.

Instead of responding, Shawn asked, "Why are you sleeping out here?"

He noticed she seemed slimmer than before. In just two days, she appeared noticeably worn down.

"I wasn't feeling well and must have fallen asleep. Are you hungry? I can make something for you," Leyla replied as she stood up.

Shawn reached out instinctively and caught her wrist to stop her. "No need. I already had dinner. If you're hungry, I can make you some pasta."

Cooking was not his strength, but pasta was one thing he could manage well.

Leyla noticed the fatigue on his face and almost declined. Yet a thought crossed her mind—soon, she would be gone. After that, she might never again have the chance to eat something he made.

Swallowing the words she initially wanted to say, she instead murmured, "Thank you."

Her stiff tone visibly unsettled Shawn. For reasons he could not explain, her formality felt quite off to him.

"Stay here," he said bluntly before turning toward the kitchen.

A short while later, he returned carrying a plate of spaghetti bolognese and placed it on the table in front of her.

Leyla was starving; she finished the pasta quickly.

As she prepared to gather the dishes, Shawn spoke again. "Leave it. Sit down. I need to talk to you." His voice was a little raspy.

Leyla clenched the fork briefly before setting it aside and following him back to the sofa.

Judging from the gravity in his expression and remembering Corrine's visit earlier, Leyla already knew what he intended to say.

Shawn studied her face. The redness around her eyes made her appear as though she had a bad rest.

A heavy silence followed. After nearly two minutes, Leyla asked, "Is this about the divorce?"

Shawn stiffened slightly at her directness before giving a small nod. "Yes."

Although Leyla had prepared herself for this moment, hearing the word aloud made the air feel thin in her lungs. A piercing ache spread through her chest, as though a knife had been driven straight through her heart.

He had been gone for two days without explanation. Not once had he thought to tell her where he was.

After her car accident, she had tried calling him over and over again, yet he never once returned her calls or asked whether she was safe.

It became painfully clear to her that, in Shawn's eyes, she was insignificant.

She gripped the sofa tightly with both hands. Drawing in a slow, steady breath, she forced herself to regain composure. Since she was going to leave anyway, she told herself she should do so with dignity. At the very least, she wanted Shawn to remember her as someone who did not beg, cling, or create unnecessary drama.

She made up her mind to step aside with dignity and allow Corrine to take her rightful place as his wife.

"When do you want us to go to the courthouse?" she asked.

Shawn observed her calm expression and, for reasons he could not articulate, felt a faint surge of annoyance. Nevertheless, he replied, "Within the next few days. I've already asked my attorney to prepare the divorce papers. You've been my wife in name for two years. I won't treat you unfairly. In addition to what's outlined in the prenup, I'll give you two hundred million dollars in cash. If you have other demands, you can make them."

It was indeed an extraordinarily generous offer.

Leyla did not answer immediately. Instead, she turned her face toward the window. Her eyes burned intensely.

After taking a moment to steady her emotions, she looked back at him. "I don't have any additional demands. I don't need the house either. After the divorce, I'll return to my hometown. As for money, I only need one hundred thousand dollars. I'm currently unemployed, and my savings are gone. Think of it as a loan. I'll repay you."

She had entered the marriage because she loved him. She was leaving because she knew she would never truly have his heart. Accepting his wealth felt unnecessary, even humiliating.

Shawn's jaw tightened slightly. "You can go back to your hometown if that's what you want. If you don't want this house, I'll have my lawyer calculate its value and add it to the settlement. It's something you're entitled to."

Leyla understood that this argument would accomplish nothing. The energy simply was not there anymore. "Just let me know when the papers are ready," she said quietly. "I'll move out as soon as possible."

"There's no hurry," Shawn replied. "I probably won't be staying here for a while anyway. You can remain in the mansion as long as you wish." With that, he rose to his feet and walked away.

As she watched him leave the room, the tears Leyla had been restraining broke out, streaming down her face.

Three days later, Leyla and Shawn appeared at the courthouse to begin the divorce process.

Then about a month later, Leyla received a phone call from Garfield Haywood, Shawn's attorney. Later that same afternoon, Garfield arrived at the mansion with the finalized divorce papers.

It was obvious that Shawn intended to move quickly; every detail had been arranged with precision.

Seated opposite Garfield, Leyla remained silent. Without asking a single question, she signed the documents.

Garfield blinked in surprise. "Mrs. Cooper, would you like to review what Mr. Cooper has allocated to you? Some of the properties listed will need to be converted into cash."

"There's no need," Leyla said, interrupting him calmly.

The truth was, the assets meant nothing to her. She had no interest in whatever Shawn was offering. Still, if accepting it would ease his conscience, she would not refuse.

Her indifference caught Garfield off guard, but he chose not to probe. It was not his role to question her motives; he was there simply to execute his client's instructions.

He then retrieved a bank card Shawn had entrusted to him and extended it toward her. "Mrs. Cooper, Mr. Cooper asked me to give you this card. The PIN is your birthday. The monetary settlement outlined in the agreement has already been deposited."

"Thank you, Garfield," she answered politely, yet she made no move to accept it.

After a brief hesitation, Garfield set the card down on the coffee table instead. "You're very gracious, Mrs. Cooper. The final appointment to complete the divorce is scheduled for Monday at nine a.m. Please make sure you arrive on time."

"I will," Leyla replied.

Once Garfield had left, Leyla immediately went online and booked a flight. She had no intention of returning to her hometown. Instead, she chose a place where no one recognized her, somewhere she could quietly give birth and begin again.

...

Early Monday morning, Leyla reached the courthouse ahead of schedule. At exactly nine o'clock, Shawn's car pulled up outside.

They went through the formalities required to legally dissolve their marriage. When it was over and they stepped out, Shawn said, "Let me drive you home."

"That won't be necessary. I can manage on my own," she said, meeting his eyes for what she knew would be the last time. "Remember to eat properly and look after yourself."

Her words sounded strangely formal to Shawn, and he responded with a restrained nod. After a moment, he asked, "What do you plan to do next? When are you leaving for your hometown?"

"In a few days. I need to go," Leyla said quietly. Before he could continue, she turned and walked away. She looked ahead, refusing to glance back, afraid that if she did, her resolve might falter.

Rather than heading straight to the mansion, Leyla stopped at the nearest bank. She withdrew one hundred thousand dollars from the card. Only after the transaction went through did she notice the remaining balance was staggering beyond anything she had expected.

When she returned to the mansion, Leyla went straight upstairs and began packing her things. After that, she placed the bank card on the desk in the study and left with her suitcase, heading directly for the airport.

...

Meanwhile, Shawn had gone back to the office and immersed himself in work. It was not until he finally had a moment to breathe that his phone lit up with an incoming call from Corrine.

He looked at her name flashing across the screen yet made no move to pick up.

For most of his life, he had accepted that his parents' fatal car accident had been nothing more than a tragic stroke of misfortune.

However, two years earlier, he uncovered evidence that changed everything. The car they had been in showed signs of tampering, and the traffic surveillance footage from that night had clearly been manipulated.

Even more disturbing was the fact that the driver identified as responsible for the collision had reportedly died twenty years earlier.

Shawn could not shake the feeling that his parents' deaths were far from accidental. From that point on, he began conducting an investigation of his own. Three months ago, he uncovered a possible link between the crash and an international criminal syndicate operating overseas.

He had spent years tracing fragments of information in secret and had only recently managed to detect the faintest trail connected to the organization. Still, it was nowhere near enough. He had no access to insiders, no knowledge of their contact channels, and the only direct clue tied to the case—the supposed culprit—was long dead.

What he never anticipated was discovering that Corrine had ties to one of the syndicate's intermediaries.

Even before she returned to the country, Corrine had been aware that Shawn was looking into the organization. She used that knowledge as leverage, pressuring him into agreeing to see her.

Through her, Shawn learned that the syndicate's leader operated under the alias Steph Griffiths. But she provided nothing else concrete.

At one point, he had wondered whether Corrine herself might somehow be linked to his parents' deaths. Yet the timeline made that nearly impossible; she had not even been born when the accident occurred.

Corrine explained that members of the syndicate were exceptionally careful. Whenever communication occurred, it was always initiated by them. She insisted that the liaison would eventually contact her again. She also made it clear she was willing to assist Shawn but only if he divorced Leyla.

After a full day of consideration, he accepted her condition.

He rationalized the decision by reminding himself that the marriage had never truly been his choice. Over the past two years, he believed he had developed no real feelings for Leyla. Their prenuptial agreement had already outlined divorce as a possible outcome; Corrine's demand simply offered a practical justification to proceed.

And yet, when the divorce became official, he was unsettled by an unexpected sense of loss that lingered.

Corrine's call continued ringing until it eventually disconnected on its own.

Shawn made no attempt to return it. Instead, he rose from his chair, took his car keys, and drove back to the mansion himself, choosing not to summon his driver.