I sat in the empty living room, cradling Dad's urn.

My phone screen lit up again. It was Eliza.

The ringtone blared for a long time, cut out, and then started up again.

I stared at her name as if it were a complete stranger's.

Finally, the ringing stopped.

A few seconds later, an audio message came through from one of her friends.

I tapped it. The background was noisy, and Leon's voice drifted through. "Just ignore him, Ms. Wood. You can't spoil him. The more you give in, the worse he gets."

Then came Eliza's cold tone. "Shawn, don't overthink this. The five-million-dollar ad campaign is only because Leon just joined the company. As my assistant, he needs this to build his authority.

"Reflect on yourself, and I expect the house to be spotless by tomorrow. Otherwise, you can forget about that one million dollars."

I listened with a blank face. My finger slid across the screen to save the audio.

Then I texted back. "See you at the courthouse tomorrow morning."

…

The next morning, I went to the courthouse.

The lobby was crowded with people from all walks of life, each there for a different reason.

I sat on a bench in the corner, clutching my queue ticket.

9:00 am.

9:30 am.

10:00 am.

Eliza never showed up.

I sent her a text. "I'm waiting for you at the courthouse."

It wasn't until almost noon that Eliza's other assistant, Cody Duncan, finally called.

"Mr. Hardy, Ms. Wood is in a meeting. She doesn't have time for your tantrums. She said you should stop acting like a child. Also, she's having dinner at home tonight. Make sure you prepare her favorite honey-glazed ribs."

With a sharp beep, the line went dead.

I stood in the middle of the noisy lobby, holding my phone as the glances from people around me pierced like needles.

A tantrum?

Dad was dead. His ashes were barely cold, and to her, I was just throwing a tantrum?

A surge of rage rushed from the soles of my feet to the top of my head, burning away every ounce of sanity.

I dialed back.

Cody answered, his voice dripping with impatience. "Mr. Hardy, I already told you—"

"Put Eliza on the phone!" I screamed into the receiver, my voice echoing so loudly that the entire lobby fell silent.

"Tell her if she doesn't take the call, I will jump from the top of the Wood Corp building right in front of her office window!"

Perhaps my tone carried too much finality, or maybe the threat of jumping spooked him. After a brief rustle of static, Eliza's voice came through.

It vibrated with suppressed fury. "Shawn Hardy, are you done losing your mind? Don't yell in a public place. Even if you don't care about your reputation, I care about mine!"

Hearing her voice actually calmed me down.

After that peak of pure rage, a chilling calm settled in.

"Eliza, I haven't lost my mind. I'm only asking you one thing. Are we getting a divorce or not?"

Eliza scoffed. "A divorce? On what grounds? Get real, Shawn. You live off my money, and I even paid for your dad's medical bills. Leon is just my assistant. He's better than you and more driven than you. Are you jealous of him?

"The position of my husband will always be yours, as long as you behave. Stop using divorce to threaten me. It doesn't work."

Her tone was utterly confident, as if she were absolutely certain I could never leave her.

Too bad for her, that Shawn was already dead.

I reached into my pocket and touched a crumpled bankbook. It was the last thing Dad left me.

There were 20 thousand dollars inside—everything he had managed to save by living frugally.

He used to say, "Shawn, if Eliza ever makes you feel miserable, take this money, buy a ticket, and come home."

I was miserable, but I couldn't go home anymore because my home was gone.

Eliza's voice cut back in. "If you just go home right now and apologize to Leon and tell him you were making everything up, I'll throw in another million dollars. Consider it… medical expenses for your dad."

I spoke right into the receiver, pronouncing every single word clearly. "Eliza, that's called funeral expenses. And I haven't settled the score with you for reversing the ransom money and getting Dad killed."

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

Eliza's voice spiked sharply. "What do you mean reversing the ransom? I just—"

Before she could finish, I cut her off. "You just wanted to break my spirit? Or did you just need to free up funds to pay for a photoshoot for your lover? Eliza, you disgust me."

With a sharp beep, I hung up.

This time, I blocked her number entirely.

The world finally fell silent.

I didn't return to that lifeless mansion. Instead, I took Dad's urn and drove to our old home on the outskirts of the city.

This cramped, rundown place, barely 500 square feet, was the only inheritance Dad left behind.

Yet, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace.

I placed Dad's urn on an old cabinet, right next to the only photo we had together.

In the picture, Dad was smiling warmly, and I was riding on his shoulders with a lollipop in my hand.

We were very poor back then, but we were happy.

"Dad, from now on, it's just the two of us here," I whispered, my tears hitting the dusty floor.

After tidying up the place, I called my lawyer, Zander Reilly. "Help me draft the paperwork. I want to file for divorce."

Right after I hung up, a sudden, heavy pounding rattled the front door.

"Shawn Hardy! Open the door!"

It was Eliza. She had actually tracked me down here.

"I know you're inside! Why are you hiding? You had the guts to hang up on me, but now you're afraid to face me? Open the door! Or I'll have someone tear it down!"

"Breaking and entering is a crime, Ms. Wood," I said coldly from inside.

Eliza didn't seem to expect me to stand my ground so firmly. "Shawn, stop pushing your luck when I'm trying to be nice.

"I came here to give you a chance. If you come back with me right now, we can just forget everything that happened. I'll arrange the best nursing home for your dad, hire the best caretakers—"

"Eliza."

I cut her off, my voice practically dripping with ice. "Do you not understand me? My dad is dead. You killed him. While you were busy taking photos with your assistant, he was beaten to death by kidnappers."

A deathly silence fell outside the door.

It took a long time before Eliza's voice drifted back in. It carried a faint tremor but mostly utter disbelief. "Y-You're making up stories again? You'd actually tell a lie like that just to win some sympathy? Shawn, you're a massive disappointment."

I leaned against the door and closed my eyes.

Disappointment?

Who was the real disappointment here?

"Go away," I spat.

"Shawn Hardy!"

"I said go away!"

I slammed my foot against the door, the loud crash making Eliza gasp on the other side.

"Take your hypocrisy and get out of my sight! If you don't leave right now, I'm calling the cops!"

It grew quiet outside.

After a few moments, the clicking of high heels started up again, fading further and further away.

About ten minutes later, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

It was Eliza.

"Tomorrow night is the Wood Corp anniversary gala. You will attend as my spouse. Once it's over, I'll agree to the divorce."

I stared at that text for ten whole minutes.

I replied with two words, "I'll go."

Setting the phone down, I looked at Dad's urn and gently traced the grain of the wood. "Dad, please wait just a little longer. I'm going to get you justice."

The next evening, the Wood family's car pulled up downstairs. It was Alex Baxter, Eliza's driver, who came to pick me up.

"Mr. Hardy, get in. Ms. Wood doesn't like to be kept waiting," he shouted through the open window, not even bothering to get out of the car.

I pulled open the door and sat in the back.

The car reeked of cigarette smoke. It was the specific brand Leon smoked.

When we arrived at the hotel, Eliza was already waiting for me in the lounge.

Seeing me in my cheap suit, she frowned, and her eyes were filled with instant disgust.

"You're wearing that?"

She tossed a garment bag over. "Change into this. Don't embarrass me."

It was a slim-cut white suit, but it wasn't my size.

I glanced at the collar tag. It was the brand Leon always wore, and it was his size.

"I'm not changing."

I threw the suit back onto the couch. "I'm here for a divorce, not a fashion show."

She sighed. "Fine, if you won't change, wear that. Just remember, once we're out there at the gala, keep your mouth shut."

…

The ballroom was brilliantly lit, but all I felt were the strange looks coming from the crowd.

"Isn't that Ms. Wood's husband? Why does he look like a tagalong?"

"Shh! You don't know? Her favorite right now is her assistant, Mr. Turner."

"Wow, Shawn is pathetic. How does he just take that?"

I stood in the corner, holding a glass with a completely blank expression.

Leon, however, clearly had no intention of leaving me alone.

Holding his glass, he strolled over with a few wealthy heirs in tow.

"Shawn, drinking all by yourself?"

He swirled his wine, a mocking smirk on his face. "I heard your dad is sick. Why aren't you at the hospital looking after him?"

A ripple of laughter echoed around them.

My knuckles turned white around my glass as I glared daggers at Leon. "Get lost."

The smile on Leon's face stiffened for a second before turning entirely malicious.

He leaned in and whispered at a volume only the two of us could hear, "Shawn, you still don't know, do you? I was the one who reversed the transaction with Eliza's phone.

"Man, I really didn't expect those kidnappers to be so sensitive. They actually killed your dad. Tsk tsk. I heard he died a horrible death. Every single bone was shattered. Do you think he was screaming your name before he died?"

The final string of sanity in my mind snapped. All my restraint and reason were reduced to ash in a split second.

I raised my hand and swung it at Leon's face with everything I had.

The force of the blow spun him right around. His glass flew from his hand, drenching him in red wine.

The music cut out.

Every single eye in the room locked onto us.

Leon clutched his cheek, staring at me in utter disbelief. Then, his eyes welled up, and tears streamed down his face instantly. "Shawn… why did you hit me?"