The wind was biting at the entrance of the courthouse.

Savannah Johnson had just stepped outside when she saw Hendrick Cook slip into his black Maybach without turning his head or so much as cast a glance in her direction.

She walked down the sidewalk, the cold wind slicing into her heart like a thousand paper cuts.

A sharp screech sounded behind her.

Before she could react, she felt a great impact propelling her to the ground, sizzling pain crawling across her kneecaps and palms.

When Savannah looked up, she saw one of Hendrick's close friends alight from the car. "Shit! We ran into her!"

"Who cares?" someone from behind answered, poking him. "They're practically divorced, and it doesn't look like Ricky will back out this time."

Savannah pressed a hand to the ground, trying to stand, but her knees gave out beneath her. Through her messy strands of hair falling over her face, she saw the rear window of the Maybach roll halfway down.

Hendrick's cold, sculpted profile flickered in and out of the shadows.

"Ricky!" someone called out, running over. "Should we send Savannah to the hospital or head straight to the gathering?"

The air stilled at that moment, and Savannah fixed her gaze on that window. For some reason, even breathing hurt.

"To the gathering."

Hendrick's unfeeling response flowed out the window, then to her heart, prickling it without mercy. The Maybach sped off, its exhaust blowing straight into her face.

Savannah gritted her teeth and slowly pulled herself up, limping as she made her way home.

Every step sent a sharp, stabbing pain through her knees, but it was nothing compared to the gaping, bloodied hole in her chest.

Once she finally limped through the door, the first thing she did was start packing. She dug out every piece of proof that showed she had ever loved him.

The jewelry he casually tossed at her without a second thought; the lighter he used, which she had secretly kept; the 999 paper stars she folded for him by hand…

One by one, she threw them all into the trash. Until, buried deep in the back of a drawer, she found a brown envelope.

This wasn't the first time Savannah had seen it, but her fingers still trembled as she opened it again.

It was a pile of love letters from Hendrick to her.

"I see you've brought me breakfast again this morning. I bet you didn't know I got up at 5:00 am just to watch from my window how you sneakily place the lunchbox."

"Your handwriting in those love letters is horrible, by the way, but I've kept them. When our 50th wedding anniversary comes around, let's have a good laugh about it."

"You looked gorgeous in that red dress today. I wish no one else could see how beautiful you are."

"This is the third year you've been chasing after me. Frankly, I almost said 'yes' to you. But then… I realized I should wait a little longer. To be honest, I love the feeling of you pursuing me."

Every single word stabbed Savannah's heart painfully.

If she hadn't accidentally come across these love letters just a few days ago, she never would've believed that Hendrick, the man who had been so cold and indifferent to her all these years, had actually liked her all along.

The first time she met him was at the university entrance ceremony. Speaking as the student representative, he was as noble as the moon in the sky.

She fell hard for him at just one glance.

Many people tried to pursue Hendrick, but Savannah was the most persistent among all.

She brought him breakfast, even though he never ate it. She memorized his entire class schedule and pretended to run into him by chance.

She had even climbed over the dormitory gate after curfew to buy medicine for him when he got injured playing basketball. In the end, she broke her wrist.

For four years—1460 days—she followed him like she was his shadow, until she finally reached for that moon.

Even after they got together, he remained cold and distant, never once offering the warmth or enthusiasm she craved. In fact, she was the one who had initiated the marriage.

Despite all, she accepted it all willingly, savoring every bittersweet moment in their relationship.

However, just three years into their marriage, he had filed for divorce 99 times.

The first time was because her cooking was too salty. He had said, "You can't even get such a simple thing right."

The second time was because she wore a dress he disliked.

…

The 98th time was because Savannah had accidentally sent Hendrick an extra goodnight text, breaking his rule that she could only message him ten times a day.

Every time, she would beg him desperately not to go through with the divorce.

The 99th time, she had knelt on the study floor all night before he finally agreed not to file a divorce petition.

That night, she accidentally discovered a brown envelope locked away in the safe. Inside were love letters, all of them written by Hendrick, starting from the very first year she had begun pursuing him.

So, he had liked her all along.

All those times he brought up divorce were just to watch her cry and beg him to stay. He enjoyed being loved, but he treated her sincerity like a toy for his amusement.

The next morning, he brought up divorce for the 100th time. His reason? She ate a cookie in his car and left a few crumbs.

Savannah looked at the man she had loved for years and suddenly felt as if he were a stranger.

This time, she didn't want to be a pawn in his game anymore. This time, she wouldn't give him what he wanted. There would be no more begging or tears.

This time, they were truly over.

Savannah wiped away her tears and continued packing. Halfway through, though, she realized her mother's necklace was missing.

It was a worn silver chain, old and simple, but it was the only thing her mother had left her.

Savannah tore through the entire walk-in closet and even checked under the bed, but the silver necklace had vanished.

Sitting on the floor, she subconsciously clenched the hem of her shirt. Aside from her, the only person who had been in the study was Hendrick.

Then, she remembered what she had overheard outside the courthouse earlier—the location of tonight's gathering.

She bit her lip, grabbed her coat, and walked out the door.

Outside the private lounge of the club, laughter could already be heard through the thick door.

"I bet five days! Savannah won't last five before she comes crawling back, begging Ricky to take her back!"

"You're being generous. Everyone knows Savannah can't live without Ricky. My bet is three days!"

"Mine's 24 hours, then! Didn't she beg Ricky all night on his study floor last time?"

"What's your bet, Ricky?"

The private lounge fell silent.

Hendrick sat at the center of it all, his long fingers wrapped around a glass of whiskey, his gaze unreadable.

Just as he was about to speak, the door burst open.

Savannah strode in. "I bet a lifetime," she said, each word clear and sharp.

As soon as Savannah's words fell, a gentle voice buried them. "Sorry for being late."

Chantelle Stone walked in with her clicking heels. All eyes were on her.

She wrapped her arm around Hendrick's with a smile and intimately leaned against his shoulder.

Savannah quickly shut her eyes at their intimate display.

Chantelle had grown up with Hendrick, and she had been a ghost-like presence, haunting the couple and infiltrating their life since the start of their relationship.

Not once had he set a boundary with her. Instead, he indulged her every time she crossed one.

Of course, Savannah had suspected that Hendrick and Chantelle had been a thing. When she came across those love letters, however, she had a painful realization that Chantelle was merely a tool used to fuel her jealousy.

He simply adored watching Savannah burn with envy for him.

It was only then that Hendrick noticed Savannah standing at the door. He furrowed his eyebrows, asking, "What are you doing here?"

Savannah's grip tightened around her bag handle, and she belatedly realized he hadn't heard a word she had said.

"My necklace at home is missing," she said, staring at him. "I'm here to ask if you've seen it."

He was noticeably taken aback before his gaze darkened, clearly dissatisfied. "You're here just for that?"

"Yeah? Why else did you think I'd come?" she countered with a question.

Hendrick's expression immediately dimmed, and Savannah was all too familiar with what it conveyed. Every time she strayed from his script, he wore the same unamused expression, just like he did now.

"Are we thinking about the same necklace?" Chantelle suddenly chimed in. "I mentioned that I liked it previously, and Ricky decided to give it to me."

She then tilted her head, looking innocent. "But then, when I got home, I realized I'd accidentally lost it…"

A buzz pierced through Savannah's head at the moment, and blood instantly rushed to her head. "Who gave you the right to give away my stuff?"

"It's just a necklace," Hendrick coldly remarked. "You're overreacting. If it bothers you that much, I'll just buy you ten more identical ones."

"That was my mother's keepsake!" Savannah shouted, though her voice trembled with grief.

The private lounge plunged into another silence.

Though initially stunned, Hendrick quickly resumed his usual aloofness. "Well, it's gone now, so what do you expect me to do? You're blowing this way out of proportion."

Savannah was so furious that she bit down on her lip until the taste of iron seeped into her mouth.

That was her late mother's keepsake, and he dared to think she was throwing a tantrum for nothing. Was that his twisted way of loving her?

Knowing the necklace was irrecoverable, Savannah turned on her heels and walked away, sparing herself the breakdown that loomed just seconds ahead.

Then came the squeak of the leather seat as Hendrick rose to his feet. "That's it for tonight. Let's go."

He went after her.

As Savannah walked out of the club, the night wind stung her pink-flushed cheeks. She kept her head down and walked quickly, not wanting anyone to see her red-rimmed eyes.

Suddenly, a loud creak sounded above her. Before she could react, someone behind her shouted, "Watch out!"

When Savannah looked up, she saw a huge billboard falling straight toward her. In a flash, Hendrick lunged toward her.

However, just as their eyes met, he suddenly changed direction and threw himself over Chantelle to shield her instead.

Following a bang, excruciating pain and deep sadness spread over Savannah. Hendrick was willing to risk her life like that, just to keep his feelings for her a secret. How ironic.

When she woke up, all she saw was a pale white ceiling. She turned her head slowly, her neck aching, and saw an empty hospital room.

At that moment, a nurse pushed open the door and walked in with fresh bandages.

"You're up," the nurse said. "You've been out for two days. Lucky for you, it's just a mild concussion."

"Who sent me to the hospital?" Savannah asked hoarsely, her throat dry.

"Your husband, of course." The nurse adjusted the IV drip, continuing, "You were covered in blood when they brought you in, and he was frantic. He almost tore the whole hospital apart."

She paused, then added with a puzzled look, "Strangely, though, when the doctor said you'd wake up soon, he rushed off, said he had something urgent to take care of. Odd, isn't it?"

Savannah closed her eyes, a bitter smile crawling across her lips.

No, it wasn't odd. Hendrick would rather risk her life than show his true feelings, after all.

Hendrick was a no-show at the hospital for the following days. It wasn't until Savannah was preparing her discharge that she finally saw him.

He and Chantelle stood at her ward's door. She clung to his arm, her complexion rosy and visibly healthy.

"You're healing so fast, Savannah. Unlike me, I've always been sickly since I was a kid. I just had a little cold, but Ricky freaked out and insisted on dragging me here for a checkup," Chantelle said with a playful pout.

Meanwhile, Savannah calmly packed her bag, not lifting her head once.

Hendrick's gaze lingered on her face, as though searching for a trace of emotion.

Suddenly, he said, "I thought I'd come pick you up while we're here. Elle's place is undergoing a renovation, so she'll be moving in with us for the next few days."

"Oh." Savannah zipped her bag, nonchalantly replying, "Sure."

Once the one-month divorce waiting period was over, they would have nothing to do with each other. Who he wanted to live with after that was none of her business.

At her indifference, Hendrick's expression darkened instantly.

Back at the villa, he acted all close and affectionate with Chantelle right in front of Savannah. No matter how much he tried to get a reaction, Savannah stayed completely unmoved.

At dinner, he fed Chantelle food, while Savannah chewed mechanically, the food tasting like cardboard.

Suddenly, Chantelle let out a scream. She scratched her arm and mumbled, "It's so itchy…"

Savannah looked up and saw large red rashes spreading across Chantelle's neck. Her breathing grew shallow and fast.

Immediately, Hendrick picked her up and shouted, "Call the doctor!"

Soon, their private doctor arrived. Chantelle was diagnosed with a peanut allergy.

Hendrick's face grew stormy as he called the servant over, interrogating, "How many times have I reminded you? Elle is allergic to peanuts! Why was there peanut butter in our dinner?"

The servant, Sammy Larson, lowered her head, nervously twisting the edge of her apron, eyes flickering toward Savannah.

"Mrs. Cook made me do it… I'm sorry, Mr. Cook. I was just taking an order…"

Savannah jumped up in shock, and her chair scraped loudly against the floor. "When did I ever—"

"Please don't deny it, Mrs. Cook," Sammy interrupted, her voice raised. "You said it yourself, you couldn't stand Ms. Stone moving in. You were jealous of how Mr. Cook treats her, so you told us to teach her a lesson."

"Savannah."

Then came Hendrick's cold-plunged voice. He stepped forward, each step echoing sharply on the marble floor.

"Since the day at the courthouse, you've been quiet—and I thought you'd finally learned. But I never expected you'd be scheming against Elle instead!"

He looked down at her, his gaze sharp enough to pierce through her thoughts.

Savannah was just about to speak in her defense when she suddenly froze. She saw it—a faint, fleeting smile tugging at the corner of Hendrick's lips. It vanished almost instantly, but it had been real.

"Since you had the audacity to trigger Elle's allergy," he said as he turned to the wine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of strong liquor, "You should know how it feels, too."

The bottom of the glass bottle made a crisp sound as it hit the table.

A chill swept through Savannah, her back pressed against the cold wall. He knew she was allergic to alcohol—he had always known.

Two bodyguards pinned her shoulders from both sides, their rough fingers digging painfully into her skin. The liquor burned like fire as it was forced down her throat, scorching its way from her mouth to her stomach.

She coughed violently, tears oozing out from her eyes, but they still made her drink over half the bottle.

Soon, the familiar stinging sensation spread from deep within her skin. Red rashes bloomed across her neck and arms. Her breathing grew labored, and the world around her blurred into a haze.

Just before everything faded to black, the last thing she saw was Hendrick standing against the light, wearing an almost imperceptible smile.

He was actually smiling.

When she woke again, the bedroom was dimly lit by only a single warm wall lamp.

Hendrick sat at the edge of the bed, his long fingers flipping through a document. He looked up when he heard her stir.

"You're up," he said, closing the file. His tone was calm as if he were merely commenting on the weather. "Don't do it again."

Savannah forced herself to sit up, her throat burning with pain. She looked at the calm expression on his face, so much softer now.

Suddenly, it all made sense. The realization crushed her.

It was never about Chantelle's allergy because he didn't care about that at all. What he cared about was her recent indifference. What he desired was watching her jealous, unraveling for him.

As written in the letters locked away in that safe, he loved seeing her lose her mind over him; loved watching her spiral and become irrational…

Unfortunately, for Hendrick, Savannah wasn't about to continue this game with him.

In another 15 days, they would officially be divorced. By then, they would have nothing to do with each other.