After completing the divorce procedures with Juan for the 99th time, Susan Laurent walked out of the City Hall.

She thought she would rush to her best friend's house, get drunk and vomit violently—just like she had done the first time Juan Parkston, her husband, filed for divorce. But then she remembered the doctor’s advice to take care of her health, so she simply made two cups of goji berries.

Returning home late at night to find Juan gone, she expected to spend the night scrolling through all his social media accounts, searching for any signs of infidelity—just like she had done the 33rd time he filed for divorce. But she was so exhausted, she slept straight through the night instead.

When the servant asked her what she wanted for breakfast, she assumed she would starve herself and lose ten pounds—just like she had the 66th time he filed for divorce. Instead, she ended up eating a table full of “Manhattan Banquet.”

On the seventh day after the divorce, she suddenly remembered she had forgotten to ask Juan for reconciliation.

Juan had once stipulated that if a cold war between them lasted more than three days without reconciliation, their relationship would be over. So, she thought, like she had done the 98th time, she would send Juan a “small essay” begging for reconciliation.

But Susan had barely sent him an emoji when Juan replied with a voice message, his tone languid, “We’ll talk about withdrawing the divorce application when we have time. I stained Ashley’s underwear. Buy her a pair. 36C.”

Susan suddenly thought it might not be so bad to forget about it altogether. So she deleted the essay. She decided not to withdraw the divorce application.

Soon, Juan sent another message, [Susan, don’t forget your other identity. You only have half an hour.]

Susan closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Besides being Juan’s wife, she was also his assistant. She had to do what her boss asked. Because it was her job.

At one o’clock in the morning, almost every lingerie store was closed. Susan ran several blocks and finally found Ashley’s size, but was caught in a sudden downpour.

On the way, she fell and arrived at the hotel in a miserable state, her knees bloodied and mangled.

When she arrived, Ashley wore a thin, revealing silk nightgown that clung to her fair skin, her eyes brimming with a sultry charm.

“Susan, please open the package before giving it to me. It’s all wet and filthy.”

She paused, “You don’t mind me calling you that, do you? After all, you’re Juan’s assistant, here to deliver the underwear. Public is public, private is private.”

A sardonic smile flickered in Susan’s eyes. Private was private... It seemed Ashley hadn’t forgotten that they had once been close friends. But three months ago, her best friend and her husband had ended up in the same bed.

Susan’s voice was hoarse, each word measured. “I don’t mind.”

She carefully opened the package, afraid the mud on her hands would dirty the underwear.

After receiving it, Ashley tore off the tag herself, but suddenly cried out, “That hurts!”

Her finger had been scratched by the sharp tag, leaving a shallow mark. Not even a drop of blood.

Juan, who had just been smoking on the balcony, immediately put out his cigarette and pulled her into an embrace, his eyes full of concern.

“How can you be so careless? Susan, how can you be an assistant? You didn’t even clean the tag? You got Ashley injured!”

Susan felt a sharp pain shoot through her knee, her breath catching in the throes of it. If Juan had just lowered his head, he would’ve seen the wound on her knee. But all he could see was the scratch on Ashley’s finger.

Juan frowned, his gaze filled with irritation and disappointment, “Can’t you even handle such a simple task?”

A thousand words caught in her throat, but Susan couldn’t speak. Juan’s anger at this moment wasn’t just disappointment in her work. Susan knew better than anyone else—He was disappointed in her as a person.

For years, she had clung to him like a lapdog, stifling him with resentment.

Susan had loved Juan since she was a child. She loved him so deeply that she gave up her pride for him and her affection was so obvious that everyone knew it.

She followed him through junior high and high school and studied hard to get into the same university. She announced to the world that she was his fiancée. Even though Juan never acknowledged it, she didn’t care. She was shameless enough to believe that she would marry him one day.

So, when Juan finally confessed his love, she felt as if all the fortune in the world had been poured into her lap. They dated, got engaged and got married...

Everyone said Susan had “everything she wanted.” She believed it too.

Until she caught Juan cheating for the first time—with a female university student. She had been hysterical, but Juan simply smoked a cigarette and casually mentioned “divorce.”

They went through with it, but it was Susan who regretted it.

She cried and begged him, “Can you just live a good life?”

Juan touched her face and nodded calmly, “Okay.”

But she grew increasingly suspicious. And Juan never failed to meet those suspicions.

The first time, the second time... until the 77th time, when Susan discovered Juan’s affair was with Ashley—her best friend from college.

That day, she ended her business trip early and rebooked a flight home overnight, just to see Juan sooner. But her plane nearly crashed. She narrowly escaped death, crouching in a corner of the airport trying to call Juan—but couldn’t reach him.

Braving the storm, she finally made it home, only to find her husband in bed with her best friend.

Amid the thunder, Ashley’s indifferent face suddenly became clear to Susan.

All the women Juan had cheated with bore at least five points of resemblance to Ashley. Perhaps Juan’s feelings for Ashley had been there far longer than she had realized.

That night, Susan had thrown a hysterical tantrum—but it was all in vain. The outcome never changed—She had taken the initiative to withdraw her divorce application.

And so, Juan and Ashley became increasingly blatant. He even asked Susan to personally deliver Ashley’s underwear.

She seemed to have gotten used to it. Faced with Juan’s questioning, she even professionally pulled a Band-Aid from her bag.

“Sorry, I’ll be more careful next time.”

Juan had once instructed Susan to always carry Band-Aids. But Juan himself rarely got hurt. She never understood why.

Until one day, Ashley bought Juan black coffee and scalded her hand. Juan immediately pulled a Band-Aid from Susan’s bag.

That was when Susan finally understood everything.

Juan carefully bandaged Ashley’s finger. Then he casually tossed Ashley’s used underwear over Susan’s head.

“Her hand is injured. Please help her wash it.”

Susan rushed into the bathroom in a panic. She clutched the damp underwear, staring at the evidence of Juan’s touch still on it. Her heart felt like it was being shredded apart, each breath heavy with pain.

Juan’s casual voice echoed from outside, “Wash it and hang it up, then you can leave. I’ll talk about canceling the divorce registration after I’m done with this. It depends on your performance.”

With her back to Juan, Susan finally closed her eyes, hot tears falling silently down her cheeks. No, there was no need to cancel it.

Juan, this time, I really want to divorce you.

After leaving the hotel, Susan did only two things. First, she submitted her resignation online.

Second, she called an old friend far away in a foreign country.

“Frank, you said before that if I had nowhere else to go, I could always come see you. Is that true?”

Frank’s voice was hoarse, but the excitement in it was unmistakable, “You’re always welcome.”

He paused, “But if you weren’t madly in love with Juan, why would you suddenly want to leave him?”

Susan smiled bitterly, “The cooling-off period for Juan and I still has 23 days left. Please buy me a plane ticket.”

Susan let out a sigh of relief after receiving the flight booking confirmation from Frank.

Frank and she had been childhood friends, practically sharing a pair of trousers and he had harbored a crush on her for many years.

After she decided to marry Juan, Frank confessed his love and even said he wanted to elope with her.

After Susan turned him down, he moved all the family businesses abroad. She had thought they would never see each other again. But she hadn't expected...

A glint of mockery flashed in Susan's eyes as she began packing her belongings. She had spent the entire night going through her things, only to discover, somewhat comically, that the only luggage she could take with her had nothing to do with Juan.

It didn’t even fill a 24-inch suitcase.

She marked a red circle on her calendar. On the 6th of next month—22 days later—she would finally obtain her divorce certificate.

Juan’s voice suddenly rang out, “The 6th? Isn’t that the day our divorce takes effect?”

Before Susan could respond, he sneered, unable to conceal his sarcasm, “What? Are you worried I’ll make you withdraw your divorce application before the 6th?”

Susan’s face paled and she was about to deny it.

Juan hurriedly turned and walked away due to a sudden call from Ashley.

Before leaving, he managed only to remind her, “Remember to come to the office today. I have something important to announce.”

Susan had originally planned to go to the company to finalize her resignation. But to her surprise, everyone there seemed genuinely delighted to see her.

“Susan, congratulations! Now that the special assistant, Mr. Randall is leaving, it’s your turn to take over his position, right?”

“Yes, our secretariat will be relying on you to look after us.”

“You’ve been with Mr. Parkston for so many years. If not for your contributions, you've certainly worked hard. If Mr. Parkston wasn’t so used to being taken care of by you, you would’ve been promoted long ago. How could you still be where you are today?”

Susan was a little stunned. Was Juan really talking about this?

She couldn’t help but smile, then quickly waved her hand, politely insisting it was baseless.

But she knew better than anyone else that, apart from the poached Mr. Randall, she was the only one with both the qualifications and capability to handle the position of Chief Secretary.

But what a shame—she was leaving.

At the morning meeting, Susan carefully prepared an 80-degree Americano with milk for Juan, adding six ice cubes.

Juan pushed open the door and entered. Always meticulous and unerring in his appearance, he even had a red rose pinned to his high-end black suit.

“Susan, come here,” Juan said calmly, waving her over. “While everyone’s here, I have an announcement to make today.”

Colleagues close to Susan were already winking at her.

Someone joked, “Susan, don’t forget to treat us to dinner.”

Looking at Juan’s serious and determined gaze, Susan couldn’t hide her embarrassment but mustered the courage to refuse,

“Mr. Parkston, you don’t need to give the supervisor position...”

“You know?” Juan raised an eyebrow slightly, interrupting her with a hint of surprise. “I’ve decided to give the position of supervisor of the secretarial office to Ashley. She’s new and doesn’t have much experience in the business. Please mentor her for the time being.”

Almost everyone was stunned. Susan felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over her head.

Ashley walked in, wearing ten-centimeter high heels and clutching a large bouquet of red roses.

“Please take good care of me, everyone,” she said triumphantly.

Everyone noticed the roses—identical to the one on Juan’s chest. All the congratulatory smiles around Susan instantly turned to shock, curiosity and suspicion.

Her phone beeped. In a certain company chat room, everyone was engaged in a heated discussion.

[What’s going on? Mr. Parkston isn’t promoting Susan? Aren’t they still married?]

[You don’t know, huh? Susan earned the title Mrs. Parkston by clinging to him. She’s been chasing after Mr. Parkston since they were kids, even when he started working—insisting on being his assistant. What man could put up with that?]

[I heard Susan’s divorcing Mr. Parkston because of Ashley?]

[Do you really believe she’ll go through with it? Everyone knows she’s fought with Mr. Parkston 98 times and every time she’d end up tearfully begging him to take her back.]

[Stop talking. Look who’s in the chat room.]

All discussion came to an abrupt halt.

At that moment, Susan felt utterly exposed—like she had been stripped bare and roasted on a scorching stove. She didn’t dare look up at Juan and simply stood there stiffly, forcing herself to sound professional.

“Yes, Mr. Parkston. I understand.”

Ashley stepped forward and intimately hooked her arm around Susan’s, speaking loudly in front of everyone, “Susan, go make me some coffee.”

She smiled sweetly, her voice edged with irony, “You should remember what I like to drink, right?”

Of course Susan remembered. After all, they had once been close friends.

A sardonic smile flickered in her eyes and Susan nodded almost mechanically, “I remember.”

Ashley smiled with satisfaction. “When it’s ready, send it to Mr. Parkston’s office. I just have some work to report to Mr. Parkston.”

She had just assumed the supervisory position and didn’t even understand the business yet. What work could she possibly report?

Susan soon figured out what kind of “work” Ashley meant. From inside the room, Ashley’s unbearable moans echoed. Peeking through the door—which had been deliberately left ajar—Susan saw Juan’s intense eyes as he pressed Ashley against the large office chair, kissing her fervently.

Ashley’s high heels had creased the leather of the chair. Susan couldn’t help but recall her first days as an assistant at Parkston’s.

She plopped down into her office chair. Juan, his face dark with anger, grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet.

“Susan, don’t bring your family affairs to work. Public matters are public, private ones are private. I hope you understand your place. I’m the president of Parkston Group. This isn’t the place for you to sit.”

Susan’s eyes reddened as she smiled faintly. So this was what Juan meant by separating public and private matters?

Leaving her brewed coffee at the door, Susan went straight to the HR department to submit a printed copy of her resignation letter.

The HR representative looked stunned. “Susan, are you really resigning? Does Mr. Parkston know?”

Susan replied calmly, “He’ll find out soon.”

Susan took the expedited resignation paperwork from HR and headed to Juan for his signature.

Before she could knock, Juan had already emerged, carrying Ashley in his arms and kicked the office door open.

“Call 120! Ashley is having an allergic reaction!” he shouted impatiently, his face grim.

Susan lost her balance, stumbled back two steps and struck her lower back against the corner of the table. The sharp pain caused a cold sweat to break out on her forehead, but Juan didn’t notice.

He simply commanded her, “Take off your shoes. Give Ashley your flats.”

Juan gently removed Ashley’s sky-high heels, being careful not to hurt her. Then he casually tossed the heels at Susan. The sharp heel grazed Susan’s arm. Her face turned pale and her heart throbbed.

“Juan, I can’t wear high heels.”

Susan had once broken her ankle while saving Juan. When he suddenly fainted, she rushed to protect the back of his head from hitting the floor. In the process, her own right foot had fractured. After she woke up, Juan had bought her an entire wall of flat shoes. His eyes had been solemn.

“Don’t hurt yourself anymore.”

From then on, she wore only flats.

She had worked hard to protect herself. But now, Juan was asking her to give them away—to Ashley.

A flicker of irony crossed her eyes and Susan shook her head slightly. “You know, my ankle…”

Juan interrupted, “That happened years ago. It still hasn’t healed?”

His brow furrowed, his voice edged with impatience. “Then don’t wear any shoes yet.”

Susan froze, disbelief clouding her expression.

Juan, clearly out of patience, waved his hand. “Hurry! Ashley’s condition can’t wait.”

His bodyguards shoved Susan onto the table and forcefully removed her flats. Barefoot on the cold floor, under everyone’s strange and curious glances, Susan felt as though a boulder was pressing down on her chest, suffocating her.

She didn’t know how long she had been sitting there. When she finally stood, staggering slightly, no one was around. No one had come to help her.

Clutching her resignation letter tightly, she hobbled off to find a pair of shoes.

The sun blazed overhead. The asphalt scorched her bare feet and blisters began to form. She was just about to pay for a pair when a familiar Lincoln pulled up beside her.

The door opened and Juan’s bodyguard tossed her inside.

“Sorry, ma’am. Mr. Parkston asked us to take you to the hospital.”

In the ward, Ashley’s face was swollen and flushed red, her eyes bloodshot. Juan sat on the sofa, his expression stony as he slowly rotated the Swiss watch on his wrist.

“Susan, apologize to Ashley.”

Susan frowned in confusion. “Why?”

“Juan, don’t be like this.” Ashley let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I took Susan’s position and I also stole her husband. I was wrong. I deserve to die. She put almonds in my coffee. I deserve it.”

Suddenly, she looked up—and with a loud slap, she hit herself across the face.

“Susan, I’m just a disgusting mistress. You want me dead. I understand. But I just can’t control my heart…” She gave a bitter smile and gently shook her head. “Don’t worry. From today on, I won’t see Mr. Parkston again.”

With that, she threw back the covers and got out of bed. Her soft, pale feet stepped into the flat shoes that had once belonged to Susan.

Juan’s strong hands gently held her feet.

“Lie down peacefully.” His voice was gentle, full of tenderness.

But when he turned to Susan, only cold indifference remained. “Susan, I never intended to give you the supervisor position. With your capabilities, you’re truly unfit.”

Susan looked up in shock, her face draining of color.

“You’re certainly good at taking care of me and you’re suited to being a good wife and mother, but do you really think you can manage an entire secretarial office? So Ashley wasn’t wrong in this matter.”

“As for what happened between her and me…” Juan scoffed, eyes brimming with mockery. “She’s already apologized to you. Shouldn’t you apologize for nearly killing her?”

Susan’s body turned cold. “I didn’t do it.”

Ashley, looking wounded, teetered slightly. “Susan, the coffee cup showed a high concentration of almonds. Besides you, my best friend, who else would know about my allergy?”

“I told you, I didn’t do it.” Susan closed her eyes, emphasizing each word.

“That’s enough.” Juan had had it. He seized Ashley’s wrist and slapped Susan across the face.

Susan’s ears rang from the blow.

Juan said coldly, “Ashley, you cared about sisterhood, but she nearly killed you.”

“I’m here now, so don’t be afraid. I’ll get justice for you.”

“Hit me!”

Ashley struck Susan again. Once, twice, three times… Susan was slapped herself ten times.

Her face became swollen and red, blood trickled from the corners of her mouth and the pain numbed both her body and her heart. Those ten slaps didn’t just teach her a cruel lesson—they handed justice to Ashley. And they shattered the last remnants of love Susan held for Juan.