Today was my birthday, and someone kept kicking the front gate of my mansion.

As soon as I opened the door, my wife rushed out and threw herself into the arms of a pale-faced man.

“Baby, I’ll come back to you later. You’re the one I love the most. Don’t overthink, okay?”

My heart sank, and I instinctively wanted to step forward.

But my wife slammed the door shut and shouted, “Don’t come out! Celebrate your birthday by yourself. I’m not coming home tonight!”

The pretty boy outside kept kicking the door, cursing loudly:

“What’s so great about a birthday? Emily is mine! If you keep holding onto her, I’ll find someone to cut you down!”

Locked inside the mansion by my own wife, I suddenly felt like the original husband who had to live in the shadows.

I was filled with despair. After donating bone marrow to my wife, my body had become extremely weak, forcing me to go abroad for recovery.

In those two years, I missed my promotion. Fortunately, through relentless effort, I expanded overseas markets and secured global shares, ready to reinvest back home.

Just as my assistant delivered partnership files, the man called me.

“I advise you to leave Emily Parker right away. Miller Corporation is not to be messed with.”

“Emily and I are planning to have children. If you don’t want to raise my kid, then get divorced immediately!”

So shameless—snatching someone’s wife and speaking with such righteousness?

I tapped the partnership list at hand. At the very bottom ranked none other than Miller Corporation…

…

The phone screen glowed. My fingertip lingered over the send button for two seconds, then I pressed it.

“Come back and sign the divorce papers. I’m done wasting time.”

The confirmation message popped up just as dawn crept through the window.

The birthday cake still sat on the table inside the mansion, its candles covered in a thin layer of dust.

Emily’s reply came quickly: “Wait for me at home. We’ll talk face-to-face.”

I didn’t respond. Instead, I turned toward the study.

On the desk lay two documents. On the left was the draft divorce agreement from the lawyer.

In the asset division section, I deliberately struck out the company shares that should have belonged to me, keeping only the ownership of my pharmaceutical patent.

On the right was a file compiled by my subordinates on Jason Miller. In the photo, the pale-faced man smirked arrogantly, but the word “illegitimate child” stood out sharply in the dossier.

He was the hidden son of Miller Corporation’s chairman, someone who couldn’t even get close to core business. His only bargaining chip was to marry upward into power.

My fingertip tapped on the words “Emily Parker’s IPO plan,” and I sneered.

Before I went abroad for treatment, I had authorized my team’s pharmaceutical patent to Emily’s company, which helped her small firm secure a foothold in the industry. Now the company was about to go public.

Jason wasn’t in it for love. He was only after influence in his family, hoping to ride on the IPO wave to gain a voice in Miller Corporation.

By noon the next day, I finally heard the sound of keys turning in the lock.

Emily pushed open the door, her face still flushed. But the moment she saw me, whatever warmth she carried instantly vanished.

She dropped onto the sofa, her tone sharp and unyielding:

“I already told Jason, I’m not getting divorced.”

“Divorce is between you and me,” I leaned back in the chair, staring at her misplaced confidence. “Since when do outsiders get a vote?”

Her fingers tightened around the strap of her purse, but she stayed defiant:

“Don’t be childish! The IPO is around the corner. If we divorce now, the stock price and partnerships will collapse. Can you handle that responsibility?”

“Responsibility?” I suddenly stood, pressing my temple with my thumb.

My body still ached from the surgery, but the absurdity of this conversation hurt even more.

“Who begged me to authorize the patent? Who cheated with another man while I was overseas recovering? And now you lecture me about responsibility?”

My words caught her off guard. She faltered, but quickly glared back at me, raising her voice:

“Even if we divorce, don’t you dare think of taking the patent! That’s the blood and sweat of the entire company!”

“My team developed that patent. Your company is only in partnership,” I tossed the authorization papers on the table in front of her.

“Don’t use ‘blood and sweat’ as moral blackmail. You know perfectly well whose work it is.”

Emily’s expression shifted at last, panic flickering in her eyes. She inched closer, her tone suddenly softer:

“Just wait until after the IPO, okay? By then I’ll compensate you—any amount you want.”

“I don’t need it.” My interruption was cold as ice.

“The marriage ends. Sign the agreement, or I’ll take it to court.”

Emily slammed the table and shot up, ready to explode, when her phone suddenly rang.

Glancing at the screen, her face softened instantly. She answered in a syrupy tone:

“Baby, what’s wrong? Okay, I’ll come right away… No, I didn’t say much to him.”

Hanging up, she didn’t even spare me a glance. She snatched her purse and bolted for the door, the clatter of her heels fading down the hallway like a stinging slap across my face.

I drew a deep breath and began packing my suitcase—the mansion was suffocating, filled with nothing but bitterness.

Just as I dragged the suitcase to the door, my phone rang again. The caller ID showed Emily’s mother.

I hesitated, then answered, out of respect for the elder.

“Mrs. Parker, Emily and I are getting divorced.”

There was silence first. Then Mr. Parker’s indifferent voice came through:

“If there’s no love left, let it go. Better to part on good terms.”

But the next second, Mrs. Parker snatched the phone, her voice shrill and piercing:

“Will! If you’re a real man, don’t sabotage the IPO! That patent must stay with Emily—it’s her life! You can’t burn the bridge after crossing it!”

The words burn the bridge pounded in my head like a nail.

Clenching the phone, I spoke slowly:

“Mrs. Parker, Emily’s life was saved by my bone marrow. The patent is mine. You know very well who’s burning bridges here. This call is just to inform you.”

I hung up, opened the door with my suitcase, and froze.

A familiar black sedan was parked outside. My father, Richard Johnson, and my younger brother, Kevin Johnson, stood beside it. Kevin turned away awkwardly, while Richard’s face was like thunder.

The moment he saw me, he barked:

“Who told you to divorce Emily Parker?”

The suitcase wheels thudded against the steps. Before I could answer, his accusations rained down like hailstones, shattering two years of missed family longing in an instant.

My grip on the handle tightened. My voice dropped low:

“So you both already know?”

“So what if we do?” Richard stepped forward, jabbing a finger at my nose.

“What’s wrong with Emily? She’s rich, has status, and treats you well enough. Why the hell would you divorce her?”

“I don’t love her anymore. Her heart belongs to someone else.” I tried to stay calm, though my fingertips trembled.

“Divorce is the best choice for both of us.”

“Bullshit!” Richard roared, the sound rattling my eardrums.

“What will you get after divorce? Kevin and I are relying on her! If you leave her, what happens to us?”

“Relying on her?” I froze, turning to Kevin.

“What do you mean by that?”

Kevin scratched his head with a sheepish smile, sidling closer:

“Bro, think straight. Emily’s powerful now. The company’s about to go public. If you divorce her, how could you ever find someone better?”

“Dad’s nursing home costs a hundred thousand dollars a quarter. Emily’s been paying it all.

And I’m getting married soon—she even said this mansion would be my wedding gift…”

“So it’s all about money.” Something pressed hard against my chest, but I straightened my back.

“You don’t have to worry about money. I’ll cover Dad’s nursing home fees. And Kevin’s wedding house—I’ll handle it too.”

“You?” Richard sneered, his eyes full of contempt.

“I know your limits. You’ve spent the past two years overseas in recovery, earning nothing. Emily is this family’s lifeline! She hasn’t even demanded divorce, so why are you stirring trouble? Get back to her and live like a husband should!”

“Live like a husband?” My voice rose sharply, my body trembling with anger.

“She’s been cuddling other men, staying out all night. And you expect me to look the other way? You think I can live like that?”

“So what if you turn a blind eye? A man should know when to bend and when to stretch!” Richard’s face flushed red.

“If it weren’t for Emily these past two years, Kevin and I would’ve starved!”

“Helping you?” My eyes locked on his, and a thought struck me.

“My annual dividends from her company amount to at least two million. She didn’t give you any of that?”

Richard’s eyes flickered, but his voice hardened even more:

“I saved it for your brother! He’s in debt from his start-up and not married yet—of course we need to put money aside!”

“In debt from a start-up?” I snapped my gaze to Kevin. He’d once racked up debt from gambling.

“Tell me the truth—are you gambling again?”

Kevin’s face turned crimson, spreading down his neck. He waved his hands frantically:

“No, bro, don’t twist this! Dad and I are just telling you—don’t divorce! Otherwise our whole family will suffer!”

“Our family?” I looked at the two men before me, realizing how utterly foreign they’d become.

So during my two years abroad, Emily had already bought them off with money. For their own benefit, they had trampled on my dignity without hesitation.

When Kevin tried to grab my arm, I shoved him off coldly:

“Don’t call her your sister-in-law anymore. And don’t call me your brother—because I, Will Johnson, refuse to be disgraced like this.”

With that, I dragged my suitcase away and hailed a passing cab.

As the car door closed, I could still hear Richard cursing “unfilial bastard,” with Kevin sneering behind him, “doesn’t know what’s good for him.”

The taxi slowly pulled away from the mansion. Leaning against the window, I watched the streets recede, my eyes suddenly burning.

I had thought family would be my strongest support. But in my darkest hour, they sided with outsiders, delivering the cruelest cut.

The cab stopped at the Hilton Grand Hotel as dusk spread over its gleaming glass facade.

Dragging my suitcase inside, I was greeted by the smiling front desk clerk, who handed me my reservation slip:

“Mr. Johnson, your executive suite is ready. Would you like to check in now?”

I nodded, pulling a black card from my wallet.

“Charge the deposit to this.”

After processing, the clerk returned the card and room key. Just then, my personal phone buzzed three times.

Three text invitations to a banquet, all from the Lewis Pharmaceuticals Administration Office.

At the end, one line read: “A private car is waiting at the hotel entrance. Robert Lewis Sr. wishes to meet you.”

Holding the room key, I chuckled softly.

The Lewis family was the leader of the local pharmaceutical industry. They had tried to connect with me during my overseas expansion.

I didn’t expect them to reach out the moment I returned.

It would both ease my mind and open doors to new resources—saving me considerable effort.