I met her gaze, my voice as cold as ice. "You should address me as Mrs. Stark."

"Oh, I must have forgotten." Skylar feigned surprise, her hand fluttering to her mouth in a mockery of coyness. "But then again, you're on the brink of divorce. I suppose the title barely applies anymore, doesn't it?"

She was nothing more than an employee at the Stark Group, yet she stood before me with no trace of fear.

She knew my status was hanging by a thread, and she was eager to snatch it away.

"Roland," she snapped her fingers, "fetch the necklace. Anton just landed and will be here shortly. He's dying to see me draped in this little bauble."

The thought of my mother's necklace around her neck made my stomach churn, but I kept my composure for my father's sake.

"Skylar, every piece has its price. Name yours, and I'll pay in installments," I said.

She pouted, a grotesque parody of innocence. "But I promised Anton that I'd wear it to our candlelit dinner tonight. Why don't you come along and ask him yourself?"

"Meet him? Absolutely not!" My father's voice boomed from behind me.

He stormed over, grabbing my arm. "You're going to divorce him right now."

"Dad, wait!" I tugged at his sleeve. "The necklace, Dad. It's still with her."

"Forget about the necklace. Just come with me," he said, trying to take me away.

As I refused to move, he looked at me with deep frustration. "He's treating you like dirt and dragging our family through the mud. You can't possibly want to stay with him."

I avoided his gaze, my voice barely a whisper. "Dad, I need to talk to him."

He threw his hands up in exasperation. "There are plenty of fish in the sea! Why him?"

I looked down, a lump forming in my throat.

There were indeed plenty of fish, but Anton was the only one who had stolen my heart.

My father stormed off, leaving me to face Skylar's scorn alone.

Roland returned with the necklace, and Skylar smirked.

"Come with me."

I followed her out of the auction hall. Outside, I saw our car—the one we'd chosen together.

I'd favored white, but Anton had preferred black. He'd chosen white without a second thought.

I asked him why he hadn't chosen black since he traveled frequently. He had told me, "I'm buying this car to take you to places you like. It's your car, Erica. Your favorite color, your choice."

Skylar slithered into the car and sat next to Anton.

As I remained outside, he rolled down the window. The eyes that had once held galaxies of love now regarded me with arctic indifference.

...

"Anton," Skylar purred, "I finally got the necklace, but she wants it too. She's asking me to give it to her. What should I do?"

I stared at Anton. "It's my mother's heirloom."

He knew the hell I'd gone through after her death, the emptiness she'd left behind. All that remained of her was that necklace, found by someone amidst the wreckage of the car accident.

To my dad and I, the necklace was a souvenir of the time we had spent with my mom.

I saw Anton's pupils constrict for a moment, but in the next breath, he draped his arm around Skylar's shoulder. His voice was cold and distant as he said, "Since it's so important, why didn't you get it from the auction?"

My gaze fell to his hand. There was still a faint tan line on his ring finger.

"I don't have that kind of money," I admitted.

"That's your problem." Anton looked at me, his eyes as hard as stone. "If you had agreed to divorce me earlier, the compensation would have been enough to buy that necklace."

His words struck me like a dagger, twisting deep into my heart.

"So, you're helping Skylar get it just to force me into a divorce?" I asked, each word tasting like poison on my tongue. "Anton, how could you do this to me?"

"I have no feelings for you anymore, Erica," he replied.

...

That day, I left without the necklace.

Anton's last question echoed through my thoughts like a haunting refrain as I sat on the couch, staring at the coffee table and the paintings that adorned our living room. Each piece was a testament to the dreams we once shared.

'How could he suddenly fall for someone else?' I refused to believe it.

Even though Anton paraded Skylar around like a trophy, and everyone who knew us whispered about his newfound love, I couldn't bring myself to sign those divorce papers.

I wasn't ready to give up on us.

My eyes drifted to our photo on the table, and for a moment, I was transported back to when we first met.

We were just kids in high school. I was a studious overachiever, but he was a rebellious troublemaker who sat behind me, tugging at my braid.

I'd turn around, ready to scold him, but he'd just hand me a note.

[Erica, I like you. Do you want to give it a try?]

From that day forward, he was there every morning, waiting at my doorstep and walking me to and from school.

My parents found out first, and then word reached his parents.

Our families even have dinner together because of it.

"You're still students. You shouldn't be dating," said his mother. "You don't want to ruin Erica's future."

Anton nodded, agreeing outwardly, but under the table, his hand found mine.

...

In our senior year, my mother died suddenly in a car accident.

The vehicle was engulfed in flames, leaving nothing but charred remains.

My father aged overnight, his business crumbling under the weight of his grief. I was devastated and diagnosed with depression.

I couldn't go to school, and Anton took time off to be with me.

He patted my head and held me. "Erica, don't be sad. You still have your dad, and you still have me."

With his support, I slowly began to heal, managing to take the college entrance exam, though my scores suffered from the trauma.

To stay by my side, Anton gave up a better school, choosing a university in the same city.

I told him he was being foolish, but he just smiled, taking my hand in his. "What if you get noticed by another guy at college? I can't go to another city."

It was the first time he'd said something so sweet, making me blush and my heart race.

I gathered my courage and asked, "What do you see me as?"

Anton was taken aback, his ears turning red.

"Isn't my intention clear enough?"

He gazed at me and suddenly pulled me into his strong, warm embrace. "Erica, I like you. Will you let me protect you, forever?"

I melted into his arms, my mind drifting back to that day in senior year. He had looked at me with such earnest eyes, promising. I couldn't help but nod.

...

After graduating from college, I married Anton.

Our first year of marriage was marked by a challenge. A major virus outbreak swept through the country.

He was away on a business trip when the crisis hit, leaving me home alone. Pharmacies were stripped bare, and I watched the death toll rise on my phone each day, a cold dread settling in my stomach.

One night, a soft knock echoed through the silent apartment. I peeked through the peephole, and to my surprise, it was Anton standing outside.

He was panting like a guardian angel who had just descended from the heavens.

"How did you get back?" I asked.

He had been hundreds of kilometers away just that afternoon.

"I drove back," he said, his voice muffled through his thick mask. "Don't come out."

He pulled out a box of medicine from his coat and left it at the door. "Remember to take the medicine."

"Where are you going?" I asked, confusion swirling in my mind.

"I've got some things to do," he said hurriedly before disappearing into the night.

Later, I discovered he had driven for five straight hours with a high fever just to bring me that medicine.

He could have had it mailed, but he was worried it might get lost or stolen, or that I might fall ill without it.

I never doubted Anton's love for me.

Yet he had fallen for a new girl at his company.

He described her as innocent and pure, someone who stirred his protective instincts.

I investigated her, and indeed, she had an angelic face and a tragic background that tugged at the heartstrings of men.

But she had also used her background to manipulate many before him.

When I presented Anton with the evidence, he refused to believe me.

"Erica, you're just used to seeing deceit in the business world. You always think the worst of people," he accused.

He believed I wasn't as pure and kind as Skylar. But he forgot he had promised to always protect me.

...

When I first noticed him sharing daily updates with Skylar, alarm bells rang in my head.

When a man started sharing his everyday life with another woman, it meant he was more than just interested.

I gave him a warning, but he brushed it off, saying nothing was going on between them.

Later, when I looked through his chat history, I saw they were sharing what they had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, what flowers, birds, and fish they had seen, and which songs they liked.

Yet the last message in my pinned chat was from a month ago.

On my birthday, he received a text from Skylar.

Skylar: [Mr. Stark, my manager wants me to entertain Mr. West and drink with him. I'm scared.]

Anton left me alone to face the freshly lit candles and rushed to the hotel.

Until the candles burned out and the wax covered the cake, he still didn't come back.

The next day, when he returned, his collar was smeared with lipstick marks, and there were visible scratches on his neck.

He bitterly apologized to me, explaining, "She was drugged by that bastard. I had to go save her."

I couldn't understand how there could be so much helplessness in his voice. Rationally, I knew this man was no longer worth holding onto.