My wife, who had been terrified of dogs since childhood, suddenly adopted an Alaskan Malamute.

She ate and slept with it, and even called it her “precious baby.”

On the other hand, I held our crying, hungry daughter in my arms, begging Ava to breastfeed—but she gave our child’s milk to the dog instead.

I endured it again and again.

Until finally, at our wedding anniversary banquet, I stood up in front of all the guests and demanded she leave the marriage with nothing.

Everyone thought I was overreacting.

“All this just because she adopted a dog?”

“Yes,” I replied coldly. “Men shouldn’t raise cats. Women shouldn’t raise dogs. And she chose a male dog, of all things!”

My wife snapped on the spot. She grabbed the anniversary cake and smashed it into my face.

“A dog can guard the house and grow up with our daughter. And you want to throw me out over that?” she screamed, hysterical.

I wiped the cream off my face, glanced toward the special room she had renovated just for the dog, and sneered.

“If he’s that amazing, then fine. Once we’re divorced, you can call him your husband for all I care.”

——

“You bastard!” Ava shouted, her voice trembling with fury.

“I only fed Bailey the milk because I had a cold! I didn’t want to risk passing it to our baby, and I didn’t want it to go to waste. That’s why I gave it to the dog for a few days. You’ve held a grudge ever since?”

“Fine! I’ll feed her right now, in front of everyone!”

With that, she suddenly yanked at her neckline in front of all the guests, exposing a large area of pale skin.

“Ava! Stop this nonsense!” her father roared.

She was on the verge of revealing everything, but I remained unmoved.

Instead, I pulled out a divorce agreement I had prepared long ago.

“Sign it now,” I said flatly, “and you can still walk away with some dignity.”

Instantly, the room fell into awkward silence.

Everyone was staring at me with contempt and disbelief.

After all, I had only been able to finish school because of the Powell family's financial support.

Despite my humble background as an orphan, they welcomed me into their family—and even let their daughter marry me.

With the Powells’ help, I had everything I now owned.

And yet I was willing to throw away that wealth and that woman over a dog?

Even Ava herself looked confused.

She never expected the usually obedient man to suddenly turn into a different person.

“You scum!”

Her foster brother, Samuel, stormed over and spat directly in my face.

“You ungrateful bastard! Do you know how many rich suitors my sister rejected for you? She must’ve been blind to choose a nobody who crawled up from the mud!”

“My dad paid for your education, paved the way for your success. My sister married you and gave her whole heart to you. And now, just because she owns a dog, you want a divorce? Are you even human?”

“He’s right, Liam,” one guest chimed in.

“Nowadays, young people keeping pets is totally normal. You’re really getting a divorce over something so petty? Do you even realize how many people would kill to be in your shoes right now?”

Ava clutched my sleeve, tears brimming in her eyes, her voice soft enough to melt hearts.

“Honey, ever since we got married, I’ve never raised my voice at you. I’ve always gone along with whatever you wanted. Maybe I’ve been a bit emotional since giving birth. Maybe I’ve neglected you and the baby. But I can change.”

“My dad even said he was going to hand the entire company over to you this year. Can we please not get divorced?”

Her pitiful expression, so meek and submissive, instantly won everyone’s sympathy.

All eyes were on me, silently urging me to forgive her, to let this go.

But I suddenly flung her hand away, hard.

She stumbled backward and fell to the carpet.

“I don’t want it. I’m done playing with you.”

Ava looked up at me in disbelief, eyes shattered by betrayal.

“Liam… was everything between us a lie? Were you just using me all along?”

I gave a careless smile. “If that’s what you want to believe—sure. Let’s just say it was all a game.”

“You bastard!” Samuel completely lost it.

He grabbed an empty wine bottle from the table, smashed it against the edge, and pointed the jagged end straight at me.

“When you married my sister, what did you promise her? You said you’d love her for life. That you’d never let her down!”

“Who was it that got up at 4 a.m. to wait in line just because my sister was craving pan-fried buns from North City? Who knelt before the doctors, begging them to save her life during childbirth? Who nursed a high fever while cleaning up her postpartum bleeding?”

“She hasn’t even finished her breastfeeding phase, and now you show your true colors? You heartless animal! How can you live with yourself?”

I wouldn’t deny it. Everything he said—I did out of love. But that didn't change the fact that I wanted a divorce now.

Still, seeing how riled up Samuel was, I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“You never married yourself, yet you’re so obsessed with your foster sister’s business. What, don’t tell me the person you want to marry is your sister?”

“You’re disgusting!” Samuel’s face contorted with rage. “I just feel sorry for her, that’s all!”

He charged at me, aiming the broken bottle at my chest.

I sidestepped effortlessly, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it. The sharp edge of the porcelain now hovered just inches from his face.

“Sam! Stop!” Ava shrieked and grabbed a chili sauce bottle from the table, hurling it at me with all her might.

Smash!

Everyone in the room froze.

The broken glass sliced my cheek, and hot chili oil mixed with fresh blood burned like fire.

Through the blur of red, I saw Ava rush to Samuel, clutching his reddened wrist, panicked.

“Are you okay?” she asked anxiously.

Only after making sure Samuel wasn’t hurt did she finally turn to me. She pulled out tissues and tried to dab the blood from my face, her voice trembling with tears.

“Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t want things to get this ugly...”

“If you’re mad at me, hit me, scold me—but why humiliate Samuel like that in front of everyone?”

I was the one bleeding. But every guest in the room looked at me like I was the villain—the monster who pushed his innocent wife into desperation.

Apparently, I deserved it.

Clutching his wrist, Samuel’s eyes turned red as he whimpered to Ava, “Did you see it now, Sis? He can’t stand any other male around you. First it was Bailey, now it’s me.”

“For your sake, I’ll go. I’ll leave the country. I’ll never get in his way again!”

Ava was caught in the middle, torn. She turned back to me and finally spoke on my behalf.

“Your brother-in-law just lost his temper. Don’t hold it against him.”

Then she turned to me, eyes filled with one last shred of hope.

“If it’s about Bailey, I’ll send him away. Let’s move past this, okay?”

She looked up at me with a pitiful, submissive gaze, hoping I’d take the opportunity to back down gracefully.

But I responded coldly, “Done with your performance? Can you sign the divorce papers now?”

My ruthlessness only made her seem more aggrieved—more pitiful in everyone’s eyes.

Now, to them, I wasn’t just narrow-minded, I was a cold-blooded scumbag who couldn’t even tolerate a dog—or his brother-in-law.

“Liam!”

Ava's father, Ronald, trembled with fury, pointing at me with shaking fingers.

“What more do you want from my daughter? Do you want her to get down on her knees and beg you?”

“Back then, if Ava hadn’t knelt outside my study for a whole day and night, do you think I would’ve ever allowed her to marry you?”

“And now? My daughter can’t even raise a dog without worrying about your damn mood swings? What kind of twisted logic is that?!”

Ronald was rarely this angry.

Even if not for him, most would have shown some respect just for the sake of the Powell family’s reputation.

But I remained unmoved.

“I’ve said it already—Ava must leave this marriage with nothing. No discussion.”

Her tears finally broke free, spilling like a dam bursting. She looked at me in despair.

“Liam... is this because I gave birth to Zoe and my figure isn’t the same as before? You’ve grown tired of me, haven’t you? You found someone younger outside, didn’t you?”

“So what if I did?” I replied flatly, expressionless.

Smack!

A loud slap landed squarely on my face.

Chest heaving with fury, Ronald pointed toward the door. “Get out! You want a divorce? Fine! But it won’t be Ava who leaves with nothing—it’ll be you, you ungrateful bastard! My legal team will see to it!”

At that moment, a relative I was on decent terms with leaned in and whispered urgently, “Liam, the old man means business this time. You’re already in the wrong. If you don’t back down now, you’ll walk away with nothing.”

Any sensible person would weigh their options at this point. But I simply licked the metallic taste of blood off the corner of my lips and said, “Fine. See you in court.”

Without another word, I turned and walked out of the house, leaving behind a room full of stunned, judgmental stares.

Outside, a black van screeched to a halt.

Inside was Daphne, a former classmate of mine who now worked in media.

She took one look at the injury on my face and sighed.

“I’ve already contacted a private investigator I know,” she said quietly.

“If what you suspect turns out to be true, this is going to be huge. A complete media firestorm.”

She hesitated for a moment before asking, “But how did you even find out something like this?”

I looked at my reflection in the rearview mirror, at the jagged wound across my face, and said coldly, “My wife’s Alaskan Malamute.”

“A dog?” She blinked, confused. “Isn’t it normal to keep a dog? I have a golden retriever at home.”

“This dog...” I said slowly, voice low and cold, “...has a long surgical scar—starting from the back of the neck and running all the way down to its waist.”

“You mean... it had a major operation?” she asked, still puzzled.

I didn’t respond. Instead, I pulled out my phone and handed her a surveillance video.

In the footage, Ava was stepping out of the bathroom with a towel.

And that Alaskan Malamute was lying on the couch—legs spread, lazily smoking a cigarette.

Daphne gasped, instantly covering her mouth.

“Oh my God... Don’t tell me that dog is—”

A thick, eerie silence filled the car.

I clenched my teeth, fists trembling.

After all this time... I was finally going to expose the truth.

After meeting with the private investigator, I decided to return home to pack my things.

But just as I entered the neighborhood, a group of neighbors out on their evening walk began whispering and pointing.

“That’s him—the guy divorcing Ava over a dog. Tsk. Idiot.”

“He’s got a free ride with the Powell family and still doesn’t know how to play his cards. If it were me, I’d have sweet-talked Ava until the company was mine.”

“He’s gotten too full of himself. Thinks he can act tough now. What a fool.”

I ignored them and walked right past.

When I opened the front door, the rich aroma of home-cooked food wafted through the air.

The dining table was covered in beautifully prepared dishes—all my favorites.

I turned and saw the room where the dog had been kept now stood open. Bailey was gone.

On the other hand, Ava, wearing an apron and covered in sweat, was seated at the table, nursing our daughter.

“Honey, you’re back?” She looked up at me with a gentle smile.

“I already sent Bailey away. Look, I’m feeding Zoe now, and I cooked all your favorite dishes. Can we stop fighting, please?”

Since we got married, she rarely cooked for me. Even when I was sick and craving a bowl of her noodles, she’d just tell me to order takeout.

This feast... it was clearly her last-ditch effort to win me back.

But I didn’t even glance at the table.

“Save it for Bailey,” I said coldly, walking straight to the bedroom. “I’m just here to pack.”

“Liam!”

Ava stood up abruptly. Her voice cracked with tears and barely contained rage.