For a brief moment, Jillian paused, caught between instinct and memory. Her grandmother had always insisted that she leave Casey's identity behind and live quietly as Jillian.

After considering it, she looked back at Leland and spoke with quiet confidence. "With you handling this, I do not think I need to rely on the name Dr. Hadley."

Taking a step closer, Leland studied her expression. "So you have that much faith in me?"

Without hesitation, she gave a sincere answer. "I do. You carry yourself like a true professional now. You have changed a lot."

Something unreadable flickered in Leland's gaze, but it disappeared just as quickly.

Out of nowhere, he asked a question that shifted the air between them. "Do you ever regret ending things with me?"

After a short pause to think, Jillian responded honestly, "I do."

For a split second, satisfaction formed on Leland's face, but it didn't last.

With calm bluntness, Jillian added, "I regret not ending it sooner. If I had, you might have become an exceptional lawyer much earlier."

The change in Leland's expression was immediate, and his face turned grim at once.

With visible irritation, he pulled out a contract and spoke in a clipped tone. "So your voice is back, and this is how you use it? Just to argue with me? Sign this. I'll be handling your case from now on."

Without a moment of hesitation, Jillian picked up the pen and wrote her name.

Once everything was settled, Leland insisted, in a stiff and formal manner, that he would drive her home as part of his responsibility.

Although she tried to decline at first, she eventually relented and got into his car.

By the time they reached Aurora Mansion, both of them stepped out.

As they stood outside, Leland caught the subtle tremor that ran through her.

Without asking, he removed his suit jacket and placed it over her shoulders with firm insistence. "You're already an adult. How is it that you still can't take proper care of yourself?"

Jillian reached to give it back, but Leland stopped her and adjusted it more securely around her. "Happy birthday."

Caught off guard, she paused before responding, clearly surprised that he remembered, "That's the first birthday greeting I have received today. Thank you."

Meanwhile, inside the mansion, Dennis stood near the floor-to-ceiling window on the first level, occupied with his work calls.

From where he stood, Dennis lifted his gaze and caught sight of an unfamiliar man escorting his wife home while placing a jacket over her shoulders.

Without a second thought, he ended the call and stepped outside, his expression already tightening with displeasure.

Just as Jillian was about to head inside, Leland noticed Dennis approaching from a distance.

With deliberate intent, Leland moved closer and rested a hand on Jillian's shoulder to stop her. Raising his voice on purpose, he added, "By the way, enjoy your upcoming single life."

Every word carried clearly across the space and reached Dennis without obstruction.

At once, a sharp gloom settled in his eyes.

Before Jillian could even react, Dennis had already closed the distance and reached her side.

Right in front of Leland, he seized the jacket from her shoulders and tossed it aside as if it meant nothing. Without warning, he lifted her over his shoulder and carried her back inside with ease.

Caught completely off guard, Jillian struggled against him the moment she realized it was Dennis, and in the chaos, her shoes slipped off.

Once Dennis finally set her down, Jillian didn't spare him a glance and immediately made her way toward the stairs.

With a swift motion, Dennis seized her and forced her back against the wall, his expression heavy with displeasure. "Telling another man that you're about to be single? Jillian, does our marriage mean nothing to you?"

A mocking laugh slipped from Jillian as she replied, "Then what was I supposed to feel when you were so close with Melany? And don't forget, I already said we are ending this marriage. So keep your distance."

Without hesitation, she shoved him away, and the lingering scent of another woman's perfume on him made her stomach turn.

After losing his balance for a brief second, Dennis regained his footing and moved toward her again with even greater force.

A chill settled in his eyes as he spoke. "You don't even have a divorce agreement. What exactly are you planning to use to leave me?"

"I don't need one," Jillian said with firm resolve.

The decision had already been made in her mind. If a mutual agreement was not possible, she would file for divorce and end it through legal means.

For a moment, Dennis fell silent as he tried to make sense of her words. Then realization dawned on him. "So you brought another man into this on purpose to provoke me, hoping I would agree to the divorce?"

The realization settled in his mind all at once.

All of this, just because of the patent, had driven her to push things this far.

Taking a slow step back, Dennis let a faint, mocking look cross his eyes. "Give up on that idea. Divorce is not going to happen."

Caught off guard, Jillian asked the question that had been weighing on her. "Why are you so determined to refuse it?"

Love clearly was not the reason. Then why was he holding on so tightly?

With a detached tone, Dennis gave a curt response. "That doesn't concern you."

Refusing to let it go, Jillian asked, "Is this about Melany? As long as I remain your wife in name, no one in the Miller family will question how you treat her, and no one will criticize her either. To everyone else, you appear devoted and loyal, taking care of a disabled childhood friend."

As her thoughts aligned, her conviction grew stronger. "You don't actually want this marriage. You just need someone to keep up appearances, do you not?"

Not a single word came from Dennis.

That quiet response spoke louder than any denial could have.

A chill spread across Jillian's face as her expression hardened. "Dennis, this is disgusting."

An unbearable ache tightened around her chest, dull yet suffocating, as if countless tiny needles were pressing into her.

With a strained voice, she forced out her question. "Do you really think any of this is fair to me?"

Remaining completely unreadable, Dennis leaned closer and brushed his fingers lightly against Jillian's cheek. "You were the one who insisted on becoming my wife. This is simply the reality you chose, so you'll have to accept it."

Jillian stared at him as a cold chill crept deep into her bones.

The man who had once sworn he would marry her was now standing in front of her, deliberately driving each word like a blade into her chest.

Dennis really was despicable. There was no softer way to put it.

Drawing on what little composure she had left, she knocked his outstretched hand aside. "Don't touch me," she said, her voice sharp as her expression hardened.

She turned without hesitation and headed upstairs. This place no longer felt like a home. She needed to leave.

But the moment she pushed open the master bedroom door, she froze. Melany was inside.

So that was the reason Dennis had come back. He had brought her here.

Jillian's eyes swept over Melany, stopping almost instantly at the necklace resting against her collarbone. It was exactly the same as the one Dennis had given her earlier that day.

A hollow, bitter laugh rose in her chest. He really had no shame, giving the same gift to two different women without a second thought.

The faint amusement vanished just as quickly. Her gaze dropped to Melany's hands, and her expression changed abruptly. Her eyes widened with alarm.

"What are you doing with my paper?" she demanded, rushing forward, only to come up short as her fingers closed on empty air.

Melany had already reversed her electric wheelchair, gliding back out of reach with practiced ease. A thin, mocking smile curved her lips. "So you wrote a research paper at fourteen," she said lightly. "And it was handwritten too."

She had studied physics abroad, just like Jillian, which was the only reason she had been able to impersonate the so-called mute girl without being exposed.

But she had chosen the field for appearances, drawn to the prestige rather than the work itself. In truth, she understood very little, and everything she had built rested on a lie. She could not make sense of the paper, but she understood one thing clearly. Dennis could never see it.

Fearing what Melany might do, Jillian forced herself to stay calm. She softened her tone, trying to reason with her. "You already have everything you wanted. That paper is old. It poses no threat to you. Just give it back."

It was the first piece of work her mother had guided her through. It had never been published, but its value to her had nothing to do with recognition. It was the last thing her mother had left behind.

Melany gave a quiet laugh, clearly enjoying herself. "If it means so little, why do you care so much?" she said. "Tell you what. Kneel and beg me. Maybe I'll consider giving it back."

"Don't push me," Jillian said through clenched teeth, her hands curling into fists.

Melany raised a brow, unimpressed. "Not willing to kneel? Then I suppose I'll just burn it." She pulled a lighter from her pocket, flipping it open with deliberate slowness.

"Don't!" Jillian cried out instinctively.

Fire. The memory hit her like a shock. When she was fourteen, she'd been caught in an accidental fire—and the smoke had damaged her throat, leaving her unable to speak.

Even now, the sight of flames made her chest tighten. But losing that paper… losing the last piece of her mother…

"I'll kneel," she said, her voice strained.

The steel pins in her knee made bending painful, each movement slow and deliberate.

She lowered herself gradually, but her attention never left Melany's hands, the paper, the lighter.

Then, in a sudden burst, she moved. She lunged forward, aiming for the paper.

Melany reacted instantly. The wheelchair jerked back with a sharp mechanical sound, putting distance between them in a split second.

"So you really do care about this worthless thing," Melany said, her voice turning cold. "Interesting. I happen to enjoy destroying what matters most to you."

She struck the lighter. The flame flared, catching the edge of the paper almost immediately. With a careless flick, she dropped it to the floor.

Jillian's breath caught as the fire spread, the sight sending a wave of dizziness through her.

The dry pages burned quickly. There was no time to hesitate.

Forcing herself to move despite the fear clawing at her, she rushed forward and stamped at the flames, biting down hard on her lip as panic surged through her.

By the time she put it out, half the pages were already gone, reduced to blackened fragments.

Melany let out a soft, amused laugh. "What a pity. It was almost completely destroyed."

Perhaps it was better this way. Even if Dennis saw it now, there would be nothing left for him to recognize.

Tears blurred Jillian's vision as she carefully gathered the fragile, charred remains. The last thing her mother had left her was ruined.

She wiped her tears roughly and lifted her head. The despair in her eyes faded, replaced by something colder, sharper. "So," she said quietly, "you enjoy destroying my things?"

Before Melany could react, Jillian surged forward, slamming the wheelchair back against the wall and wrenching the lighter from her hand.

She feared fire. But in that moment, anger drowned everything else.

Her hand trembled as she flicked the lighter on again, holding the flame to Melany's carefully styled hair, the same hair she spent so much time and money maintaining.

The ends caught almost at once.

"Help! Dennis, save me!" Trapped against the wall, unable to move, Melany screamed in panic, thrashing helplessly.

The noise brought Dennis running. He took in the scene in an instant, his expression turning dangerously dark. "What are you doing?"

He crossed the room in seconds and shoved Jillian aside. But it was already too late. A large section of Melany's hair had been scorched, leaving behind a burnt, acrid smell.

Melany clung to him, burying her face in his jacket as she sobbed uncontrollably. "She tried to burn me alive! Dennis, she set me on fire. I was terrified."

Jillian let the lighter fall from her hand. It hit the floor with a dull sound. Ignoring them both, she carefully placed the damaged pages into a small box.

When she finally looked up, she met Dennis's gaze. It was cold. Hateful.

She had only ever seen him like this once—when her leg was broken.

Back then, that ice-cold hatred had been aimed at the men who hurt her. Now, he was aiming it at her.

Her chest tightened painfully, as though something inside her was being crushed.

"She burned my things first," Jillian said, her voice flat, her face empty of expression.

But Dennis only frowned at her, as if she were saying something absurd. "Melany is terrified of fire," he said sharply. "How could she have done something like that?"

A hint of amusement slipped into Jillian's tone as she spoke. "You claim she's terrified of fire, yet she carries a lighter?"

With tears gathering in her eyes, Melany lifted her gaze toward him. "Dennis, how could I possibly keep something like that on me? You understand me better than anyone."

In truth, Melany had experienced a fire in her dormitory back in Cletolia shortly before graduation, but the incident had left her voice intact.

After discovering the situation between Dennis and Jillian, she used that past event to pretend to lose her voice so she could take Jillian's place.

To make the deception more believable, she even exposed her vocal cords to thick smoke on purpose and caused damage to them.

Because she knew Jillian had a fear of fire, she carefully mirrored that same fear whenever she was around Dennis.

Every detail had been planned with precision, and the story she built supported her act from every angle.

With everything arranged so perfectly, she was confident that no matter what Jillian said, Dennis would remain on her side.

That thought brought a faint curve to her lips, though it was barely noticeable.

At the same time, Dennis had already reached his own judgment.

To Dennis, Melany's voice had been ruined by an accidental fire, and since that day, she had avoided anything related to flames.

From his perspective, Jillian's claims sounded completely fabricated.

With a dismissive glance in Jillian's direction, he let out a scoff. "It's only a patent. Do you really need to push things this far?"

Upon hearing his response, Melany hid a faint smile at the corner of her lips.

Frustration welled up inside Jillian, and she could no longer hold it back. "So this is what you think of me?"

A colder edge slipped into his voice as Dennis answered, "You would do anything to get what you want. Was that not how you managed to marry me?"

In his mind, their marriage would never have happened if she hadn't influenced his grandfather.

A sharp ache spread through Jillian's chest as she realized how he truly saw her.

Tears gathered in her eyes, yet she forced herself to speak with defiance. "You were the one who promised that you would marry me first!"

Dennis's face hardened. He had only ever said that to Melany.

In a cold tone, he dismissed her claim. "Now you're trying to justify yourself? You're simply imagining things."

Those words hit Jillian so hard that she went completely still. By dismissing everything as her imagination, he erased every moment they had once shared.

When she met his gaze, no words came to her, and silence took over.

Sensing the conversation was moving toward a direction she dreaded, Melany stepped in before things could continue, casually saying that she didn't feel well.

Dennis supported her and led her downstairs so she could rest.

Left alone at last, Jillian lost the strength to remain upright and sank onto the bed.

At first, she meant to gather her belongings before leaving, but in the end, she only took the keepsake her mother had left her and walked away.

Carefully, she arranged the house keys, her bank cards, and the ring on the bedside table, and she left behind a short note.

Early the next morning, a servant rushed to inform Dennis and brought him to the master bedroom, pointing toward the bedside table. "Sir, Mrs. Miller must have left sometime after midnight. These were left behind."

Reaching for the note, Dennis unfolded it and read the message. "Since we are ending this marriage, it's better to part cleanly. I'm returning everything to you."

First she paraded another man to get a rise out of him. That failed, so now she was playing the separation card?

Tightening his grip on the note, Dennis gave nothing away, and his expression remained impossible to read.

Without another glance, he tucked it into a drawer and headed downstairs for breakfast.

By the time he arrived, Melany was already waiting at the dining table.

After the "scare" from the fire the night before, she had stayed overnight at Aurora Mansion instead of leaving.

Taking his seat, Dennis settled across from her in silence.

As if something had just come to mind, Melany looked at him and brought up a request. "Dennis, I heard you have Dr. Hadley's personal contact. Could you introduce me to him?"

A slight crease formed between his brows as he responded, "I'm not particularly close to him."

"Could you at least help me meet him? Dennis, I plan to pursue a doctorate, and I truly want Dr. Hadley to take me under his wing and guide me through my dissertation. I have always looked up to him!" Melany spoke in a gentle, pleading tone that carried a hint of insistence.

In reality, she didn't admire Dr. Hadley at all.

What she really wanted was to take advantage of his name, because his reputation would keep anyone from doubting her academic credentials.

With an air of indifference, Dennis gave a casual reply. "I'll let my assistant handle it and get in touch."

At one point, the Miller Group tried to bring Dr. Hadley in as their technical advisor. However, he turned them down without even showing up, and he only left behind a number they could contact.

According to what people said, Dr. Hadley was already in his fifties or sixties, and his personality leaned toward being traditional and inflexible.

**

Following her departure from Aurora Mansion, Jillian checked into a hotel for the time being.

Most days found herself at the law firm, and she focused on reaching out to witnesses while also arranging important communication records.

Outside of work, she spent her remaining hours searching for a place that would suit her needs.

On one particular day, she decided to dine at Crown Restaurant.

As she waited for her order to arrive, she signed in to Dr. Hadley's email account.

Handling technical inquiries through that email had become part of her routine.

After replying to several messages, her attention was caught by one sent by the Miller Group two days earlier.

"Dr. Hadley, our CEO, Mr. Miller, hopes to invite you to a dinner held in your honor. He wishes to personally thank you for the support you have given the Group throughout the years. We would like to ask if you might have time available in the near future."

Throughout these years, she placed the Miller Group's technical concerns first, and she assisted them through email whenever she could.

So now Dennis intended to thank her for that?

Earlier, Leland had urged her to handle everything in private, since reclaiming the patent remained her main priority.

Taking the matter to court would only drag things out and waste time.

Even before this, Jillian had already intended to meet Dennis, and now it was a good chance to do that.

Without hesitation, she sent a quick reply. "I'm free, so please let me know the time and location."

Not long after, a message came through. "Crown Restaurant, tonight at seven. Will that suit your schedule?"

By coincidence, she was already dining at that place, so she answered at once, "That works for me."

A moment later, the private room number was sent over.

Since there was still time left, she reached out to Leland and asked him to come along as her lawyer.

As she waited, she returned to her emails and continued working through them.

At the same time, Dennis had already booked the most extravagant private room at Crown Restaurant, and he made sure everything was arranged to leave a strong impression.

Soon, a knock sounded at the door.

Filled with anticipation, Melany pushed herself toward the entrance. "That should be Dr. Hadley."