In Kieran Chase's eyes, I was not his wife. I was a non-performing asset waiting to be liquidated.

When I got sick and asked for help, he became impatient. He said, "This is a minor problem. You can handle it on your own. No need to tell anyone."

When I broke down in tears, he reprimanded me. "Losing emotional control shows weakness. It exposes the fragility of our alliance. I'll have the PR team teach you emotional management."

Even when I called for help after a car accident, he hung up. "Nothing about you is important enough to interrupt a transaction worth hundreds of millions."

I spent seven days in the ICU fighting for my life.

On my first day home, I found Kieran leaning over another woman, his voice suddenly soft and coaxing as he convinced her to take her medicine.

He opened his mouth to explain. I smiled bitterly and handed him the papers I'd prepared long ago. My tone mirrored his perfectly.

"Mr. Chase, regarding our marriage project, the return on investment is unacceptably low after comprehensive evaluation. I'm formally proposing we terminate our cooperation.

"Here's the divorce agreement. Sign it."

Kieran Chase stood up and glanced at the agreement without taking it.

"Where have you been for the past two months?

"Scott said he couldn't reach you by phone or text. Next time you disappear, remember to report it to me."

Not a word of concern. Just another one of Kieran's random scoldings.

Honestly, after all these years, this was the first time looking at Kieran's face made me feel disgusted.

Since he would not take it, I did not force him. I casually set the papers on the coffee table.

"Mr. Chase, if there are no objections, then just sign it."

I lowered my eyes and glanced at the girl sitting in the wheelchair beside him.

My body felt too weak to even summon the energy for angry questions. I walked around her, planning to go upstairs and rest.

Perhaps my calm reaction was too abnormal. For once in his life, Kieran actually offered me an explanation.

"This is my friend's younger sister. He asked me to look after her. For convenience, I brought her home to stay. I explained it in a text message before. You probably didn't see it…

"What happened to your hand?"

Kieran suddenly changed topics. Only then did I follow his gaze downward.

Without the divorce agreement covering it, my right hand was exposed under the lights.

My hand was thin and pale, the wrist wrapped in gauze and the back mottled with bruises from the IV catheter they had left in during resuscitation.

"Are you sick?"

He seemed to have found the root of my abnormal behavior. He called me by my full name.

It did not sound like concern. It sounded more like a supervisor reprimanding a subordinate.

"Joanna Candor, don't make emotional decisions when you're ill. Take the agreement back."

I was already used to this. I paused for a moment but did not even turn my head. I went straight upstairs.

Before I could even close the door, my body's extreme weakness made me lean against the wall and slowly collapse to the floor. The dizziness was severe.

From downstairs, Leona Hostler's soft, gentle voice drifted to my ears.

"Kieran, is she angry with me? Maybe... you should just send me back. Living alone is just a bit inconvenient, but I can manage."

Kieran leaned down and coaxed her. "How could that be? You can stay here with peace of mind. That's just how her personality is. In a couple days, she'll be fine on her own.

"Come on, take your medicine. The water temperature is just right. It won't be bitter. I prepared some candy for you."

Kieran's voice was not loud, but it carried a warmth he had never shown me. I could even imagine his expression at that moment, the gentleness and attentiveness I had begged for a thousand times.

Yet it was generously given to another strange woman.

A sharp wave of nausea surged up from my stomach. I quickly covered my mouth and dry heaved several times, but nothing came up. Only the bitter taste of bile burned my throat.

I suppose he was not born cold after all. He just did not love me.

I wanted to laugh at my own stupidity and naivety.

After walking through death's door, I still harbored some pathetic fantasy about this marriage.

Downstairs, Kieran's warm yet cruel voice continued to drift up intermittently. Each word felt like salt poured into my bloody wounds.

My phone buzzed. It had fallen to the floor at some point. I could not focus on the caller ID on the screen. My hands shook as I answered.

A lazy, magnetic male voice came through with a teasing lilt. "It's rare for you to text me after getting married. What's this about? Want to have an affair with me?"

I coughed lightly twice, my voice somewhat weak. "Sure. Though 'affair' isn't quite right. I'm getting divorced.

"Name your price. I'll keep you."

The man on the other end of the line paused, then laughed with even more amusement. His voice carried undisguised interest and provocation.

"Give me your address. I'll come pick you up."

The next morning, Kieran glanced at the empty seat beside him and spoke to the housekeeper.

"Wynnie, tell her to come down for breakfast."

Wynnie Marks lifted her slightly bowed head, looking confused.

"Mrs. Chase left early this morning. She took her suitcase with her."

Kieran's hand froze mid-air, spoon suspended. "She left?"

"Kieran, maybe you should just send me back. Joanna must be angry, that's why she..."

Kieran cut off Leona with a cold expression.

"She's thrown tantrums and run away from home before. After a few days cooling off outside, she'll come back.

"Don't worry about her. Just eat your breakfast."

As he finished speaking, Kieran pushed a cup of warm milk toward Leona. She lowered her head and took a couple sips, her face full of contentment.

Kieran picked up his spoon again, preparing to continue eating. But unbidden images kept flashing through his mind.

My face from yesterday, pale to the point of transparency. My cold and decisive words. That divorce agreement sitting on the coffee table.

"Tch." Kieran made a barely audible sound. His appetite vanished instantly.

He stood up, his movements were slightly more abrupt than usual.

"Clear it away and have the car ready. I'm going to the office."

Meanwhile, having barely left the hospital, I found myself being rushed back by Maverick Tiller. My condition had been too poor. Forcing myself to check out early backfired when I burned with fever until I lost consciousness in his car.

Half dreaming, half awake, I vaguely felt someone massaging the bruises on my right hand.

"A car accident? What do you mean they issued three critical condition notices? Are these the aftereffects?”

"The abdominal wound is infected. I'll step out and have the nurse prioritize the antibiotics and dressing change.”

"Turn the air conditioning up higher. Where's the IV warmer?”

…

I fought to open my eyes and caught only a glimpse of anxious ones staring back at me.

"Joanna?”

"I'm here. Keep sleeping. You'll feel better when you wake up."

He took my cold right hand in his. Warmth spread from his palm. I was too feverish to recognize who he was anymore.

I only thought his hand felt so warm.

Beep beep beep.

This was the eighth call Kieran had made. Still no answer.

In the past when I threw tantrums, it never took more than two or three calls. Kieran never even had to say a kind word before I came running back eagerly.

"Scott, go check..."

Before Kieran could finish, someone from the secretary's office knocked, bringing in a visitor.

"Mr. Chase, Mr. Wells over here insists on seeing you. He says... he's here on behalf of your wife."

James Wells adjusted his glasses and introduced himself.

"Mr. Chase, I've been retained by Ms. Joanna Candor. I'm here to discuss the divorce proceedings."

Kieran froze for two seconds. He let out a derisive laugh, a smile crossing his face as if to say "of course."

"Mr. Wells, is this another one of Joanna's new tricks? Where is she?

"I'm very busy. I don't have time to play along with her running away from home games. Have her move back as soon as possible.

"Leona's personality is sensitive. She keeps worrying that this whole thing will set back her recovery. When Joanna comes back, tell her to apologize to Leona properly."

His tone was dismissive, as if discussing an unreasonable child throwing a tantrum.

James remained silent for a moment before opening his briefcase and withdrawing a document.

"Ms. Candor instructed me that if you didn't believe her, you could review this."

It was not the divorce agreement but a printed official statement.

"According to Ms. Candor's wishes, her capital management firm and all its affiliated companies officially released this statement through official channels to the media and all business partners at ten o'clock this morning.

"It formally notifies the public that Ms. Joanna Candor has initiated divorce proceedings with you."

The smile on Kieran's face shattered instantly. His pupils contracted sharply.

The document was stamped with an official seal, undeniably legitimate. This was the method he excelled at and preferred above all others.

Only now did Kieran realize something. I was not joking.

I truly wanted to divorce him.

"Joanna, this is the fifth time Mr. Chase has invited you to meet and discuss things this week.

"You're still not going to see him?"

I took the glass of warm water Maverick handed me and swallowed the pills in one gulp.

"See him? And then what?

"Watch him scrutinize me like I'm a quarterly report? Listen to him 'analyze' our nonsense marriage like it's a project post-mortem? Then work with him while he kindly plans to 'process' our divorce agreement?

"That robotic, businesslike attitude of his makes me sick. I'm not going to humiliate myself by throwing myself at him anymore."

I set down the glass and took a deep breath.

"Anyway, there's no avoiding Friday's reception.

"When the time comes, we'll sign whatever needs signing and sever whatever needs severing. One clean break. He can go his way, I'll go mine.

"He can be Mr. Chase. I'll be Ms. Candor."

The sunlight warming my skin made me drowsy. Just before closing the bedroom door, I pulled a bank card from my bag and handed it to Maverick.

"No PIN. Five million dollars."

Maverick froze, staring at the closed door. A soft laugh escaped him, his murmur barely audible.

"She really is treating me like a kept man."

On the day of the reception, the banquet hall's air was thick with the ostentatious blend of champagne and perfume. Since this was my first public appearance after announcing the divorce, I held a glass of champagne and made polite conversation with various family friends and elders.

Kieran cut through the crowd and walked straight toward me.

"Joanna, we need to talk." His tone was slightly gentler than usual.

I looked up.

How things had changed. Now it was my turn to appraise him like merchandise.

"Mr. Chase, what is it?"

Kieran seemed to choke on the formality. After a moment of silence, his assistant, Scott Hudson, stepped forward with a velvet box and presented it to me. Inside lay a dazzling gemstone necklace.

"Before, I neglected you."

Kieran's tone was somewhat stiff. He clearly was not accustomed to apologizing or making concessions.

"This is a small token. As for the divorce, perhaps we could reconsider..."

I looked at Kieran.

I could not figure out what was going through his mind. Perhaps for the sake of his business empire, he was not ready to give up such an excellent "marriage partner"?

The divorce was definitely happening. But from a business perspective, even with a divorce, there was no need to make things too ugly.

No point fighting him when there was money on the table.

While I hesitated, a soft voice suddenly interjected with perfectly calibrated surprise and familiarity.

"Kieran, so this necklace was meant for Joanna. If I'd known, I would have let her choose first."

Leona wheeled herself over, her gaze falling on the necklace with an air of regret and coquettishness. Around her neck hung what was clearly another piece from the same collection.

"A few days ago, I said I didn't like its design. Too simple, I thought. But seeing it today, it suddenly looks so beautiful. I really can't bear to part with it."

She reached out and tugged lightly on Kieran's sleeve.

Kieran's brow furrowed slightly. He glanced at me, then at Leona in her wheelchair.

His tone recovered its usual matter-of-fact quality, as if he were mediating some trivial dispute.

"Joanna, Leona wants it after all. I still have business with the Hostler family. Let her have this one. Whatever style you prefer, I'll have my assistant..."

I let out a derisive laugh, though my face showed no anger whatsoever.

"Mr. Chase, I appreciate the sentiment. As for the gift? I, Joanna Candor, am not so desperate that I need to fight over someone else's leftovers."

My gaze swept pointedly over Kieran himself, my tone casual and cutting.

"Besides, once a gift is given, what sense does it make to take it back? Mr. Chase, you've been in business for so many years. Don't you understand even this basic principle?

"Since you're deliberately trying to humiliate me, I don't think we have anything more to discuss."

I deliberately raised my voice so everyone present could hear clearly.

"I'll notify my lawyer. We'll pick a date for me to file for divorce from you, Mr. Chase."

Crash!

Even the champagne glass I held "accidentally" shattered at Kieran's feet, splashing filth across his shoes.

"Sorry, my hand slipped. Some people are just too disgusting."