My husband, Alex Carter, is a top AI engineer. He one day gets drugged by a new intern at his company, and one night of chaos follows. He calls me the next morning, his voice hoarse from a hangover and filled with unfamiliar panic.

"Em, I messed up. But don't worry. I gave her enough money to disappear from this city."

After ten years together, I believe it is just a momentary lapse in judgment. Six months later, Alex's company suffers the worst cyber attack in its history, with core data hanging by a thread.

I rush back from a fragrance exhibition in Astral, only to witness a scene at the data center entrance that sends me into shock. Alex stands outside the tightly sealed door, his face showing a weariness and guilt I have never seen before.

The doctor says that the intern, Brooke Anderson, is three months pregnant and has spent 72 hours with him in the high-radiation server room. Now, she shows signs of miscarriage.

Later, Brooke gives birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The entire Carter family is ecstatic.

I remove the wedding ring that has accompanied me for ten years, my fingertips turning ice cold. I dial the number saved with only one letter "S" and say, "Mr. Sullivan, I accept the collaboration you proposed last time."

A low, soft laugh comes from the other end of the line.

"Ms. Emma Shaw, that's a wise decision."

Alex seized my hand, his burning palm damp with perspiration. "Em, three months ago, her grandmother was dying. She was desperate when she begged me for help.

"That night, I'd just finished entertaining clients, and I'd had too much to drink. I never imagined…

"But you can relax, she'll never be welcomed into the Carter family. Your position is secure."

The hospital room door suddenly burst open, and Brooke appeared, wearing an oversized hospital gown. She collapsed to her knees before me, tears flowing freely. "Ms. Shaw, please let the babies live! I want nothing else!"

Alex turned to me, his tone almost begging. "Em, you've always been the most level-headed one between us. The babies are innocent."

I fixed my gaze on him, my senses assaulted by the cheap gardenia perfume emanating from Brooke, making me nauseated.

I smiled coldly. "Alex, either we divorce, or you make her vanish along with those complications she's carrying."

"I refuse to divorce!" Alex's eyes reddened as he clutched me desperately. "Em, but I... I must take responsibility for her."

Despite my ultimatum, Brooke gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The entire Carter family celebrated joyously.

I removed the wedding ring that had been with me for ten years, my fingertips turning ice cold. I dialed the number saved under a single letter "S".

"Mr. Sullivan, I accept the collaboration you mentioned before."

A low, quiet chuckle came from the other end of the line.

"Ms. Emma Shaw, you've made a very wise decision."

…

I stood at the end of the VIP maternity center hallway, nails digging deep into my palms. Even the expensive aromatherapy couldn't mask the cloying scent of milk in the air, mingled with Brooke's cheap gardenia-scented perfume.

I had worked with fragrances my entire life. At this moment, these two scents combined like a blade cutting through my nerves. I watched Alex's parents beam with joy through the glass, each holding a swaddled baby.

And Alex, that perpetually calm and composed man who claimed AI code was more reliable than human emotions, was gazing down with a tenderness I'd never seen before. He gently kissed his daughter's forehead.

How ironic. They looked like the perfect family of four. I was the unwelcome intruder.

Alex looked up and saw me, his smile freezing instantly. "Em, you... you finally came down from the mountain."

I remained silent. Alex's mother, Victoria Carter, shot me a sideways glance as she held her newborn grandson. Her tone was colder than the hallway's air conditioning.

"So you know the way back after all? Have you gone astray from all that fragrance mixing up in the mountains? Living away from the world, are you planning to become some kind of hermit?"

"It's good that you're back." Alex's father, George Carter, tried to smooth things over, though his eyes never left the infant girl in his arms.

"The children are almost a month old. You're Alex's wife, so you should help organize things."

Only then did Victoria soften her expression. "The children's status needs to be formalized. You and Alex should discuss it.

"Don't worry. The Carter family isn't unreasonable. As long as you know your place, the position of Mrs. Carter will always be yours."

I looked at the condescending charity written across their faces, nodded, and uttered a single word.

"Fine."

After the older couple returned the children and left, Alex's phone rang. He glanced at me and walked to the nearby balcony to answer it.

Only Brooke and I remained in the hospital room. She looked healthy and radiant, her face glowing from motherhood, and even her hair was perfectly styled. Clearly, the Carter family had spared no expense over these past few months.

"Ms. Shaw," she began timidly, much like a startled deer. "I know I was wrong, and I'll accept whatever punishment you give me. Just please don't be angry with Mr. Carter anymore.

"You're the only one in his heart. While you weren't home, he had the housekeeper clean your fragrance studio every day, afraid it would gather dust."

"Brooke." I cut her off, my voice cold as ice. "You don't need to put on an act for me. The money Alex gave you initially was enough to buy a luxury home in any major city and live lavishly for life.

"You could have disappeared completely, yet you chose to show up three months later with your grandmother's critical illness notice, seeking out a man who had 'too much to drink'?

"Brooke, don't think I can't smell your little scheme."

The color drained from her face instantly, turning pale. Suddenly, Brooke grabbed one of the babies from the bed and thrust it toward me.

That warm, soft bundle, heavy with the smell of milk, made my entire body stiffen as it hit my chest. The next second, she released her grip. The child slipped through the gap between us, falling straight toward the floor.

Heart-wrenching cries instantly pierced my eardrums. Alex rushed in like a whirlwind and shoved me aside.

I staggered back against the wall, watching him cradle the child with the care of someone protecting a priceless treasure. He turned to look at me, his eyes filled with crushing disappointment and fury. He said nothing, yet it felt like he'd said everything.

Brooke sobbed breathlessly beside him. "Mr. Carter, I just wanted Ms. Shaw to hold the baby. I wanted her to love our children, but she..."

Alex's voice turned icy cold. "Emma, Brooke is being discharged tomorrow. Since you can't tolerate the children, you should move to the villa in the western suburbs for now."

I bit down hard on my lower lip until I tasted blood before releasing it. I had packed light for my mountain retreat, and now everything fit into one small suitcase.

I sat alone in that villa, empty as a tomb, from nightfall until dawn. Perhaps it was better this way. At least I wouldn't have to witness their happy family of four and smell that nauseating mixture of scents.

Memories flooded back like an uncontrolled tide. Alex and I had met when we were nobody special. I had supported him through his journey from an unknown programmer to a leading figure in the field of AI. For ten years, we had been the soulmates everyone in our circle envied.

The first time, he was drugged by a business rival and slept with Brooke, who was just an intern then. He called me immediately, his voice shaking.

"Em, I was set up! I swear on my integrity that this was the only time! I've handled everything cleanly. She'll never appear before us again!"

I believed him. But Brooke appeared again just three months later, using her grandmother's medical emergency as an excuse to approach Alex. At the time, he happened to be drunk after entertaining clients.

The first time was an accident. But what about the second?

Later, when Alex's company faced a cyber attack, he locked himself in the server room for three days and nights. It was the pregnant Brooke who stayed by his side despite the high radiation danger.

A life-saving favor from the drug, plus the children in her belly, became two chains that Alex could never break free from. He kneeled before me, clinging to my legs and sobbing. I gave him one final choice.

"Alex, either we divorce, or you make her disappear."

"I won't divorce!" His eyes reddened like a trapped animal. "Em, I can't live without you! But... But I have to take responsibility for her..."

He wanted both me and to keep his responsibility. So I left for the mountain retreat, where I had a meditation room for fragrance work, surrounded by the purest pine and sandalwood.

Until Brooke gave birth, George repeatedly called and ordered me to return, threatening to revoke all the shares under my name.

Shaking off the memories, I pulled out my phone, and in the darkness, I pressed send.

It was the message I'd drafted long ago. "Let's get a divorce."

Less than ten minutes later, the villa's smart lock alarm sounded as it was forcibly opened. Alex burst in, his forehead covered in cold sweat. "Emma! I won't agree to a divorce!"

I sat quietly on the couch, watching his loss of control, and sighed softly. "Just let it go, Alex. I'm tired."

"I told you that she'll never affect our relationship or your position!" he said desperately.

Just then, his phone rang shrilly. Brooke's tearful voice came through clearly from the receiver.

"Mr. Carter! The baby has been crying since the earlier fall and now has a fever! The doctor says things are looking dangerous and that our child might need the PICU!"

Alex's expression stiffened instantly. He looked at me, then at his phone, his eyes filled with painful struggle.

Finally, he spoke with difficulty, "Em, I... I have to check on them..."

I watched his panicked fleeing figure and suddenly let out a low laugh. This was my marriage. Even a divorce negotiation had to give way to another woman and her children.

I smiled mockingly and said softly, "Go ahead. Your children need you."

Alex didn't even look back at me once. He fled in panic, the wind from his movement brushing across my face.

I sat alone in the darkness, neither turning on the lights nor crying. I knew Alex might never marry Brooke. But he would be called away by her again and again, because of those children.

I had blended over a thousand fragrances. Top notes, middle notes, base notes, each layer distinct yet harmoniously unified. But my life had been forcibly invaded by a discordant, cheap odor.

If I didn't divorce him, how long would I have to endure this contamination? A lifetime?

A familiar, needle-like pain twisted through my stomach. I curled up on the couch and opened my phone.

Brooke had posted a photo on her social media feed. Alex stood guard beside the incubator, his profile haggard, his expression showing a panic and anxiety I'd never seen on him before.

Her caption read, "With you here, I'm not afraid."

I laughed bitterly. I immediately had my lawyer draft the divorce papers. Then, I went to the office where the fragrance brand "Amme" that I had built from nothing was now one of the group's most profitable subsidiaries.

The HR director nearly spilled her coffee when she saw my resignation letter. "Ms. Shaw, you're resigning? Does Mr. Carter know?"

I smiled faintly. "He's swamped right now."

Seeing the flash of sympathy in her eyes, I knew the entire company was watching my embarrassment play out.

Back at the western suburbs villa, this place had once been our quiet retreat, somewhere we'd occasionally stay for peace. My small fragrance studio was still here.

While packing, I found a yellowed note tucked inside a book called "The History of Perfume". It was Alex's handwriting, youthful yet bold.

"Em, I don't know when you'll see this. By then, we should have several children, one who looks like you and one who looks like me.

"I love you, Emma. No matter what happens in the future, you're not allowed to abandon me."

Tears fell without warning onto the paper, blurring the ink. My stomach suddenly seized with violent pain, more intense than ever before. My vision went black, and I collapsed to the floor.

I woke to the sound of my phone ringing.

"Emma Shaw! What the heck do you think you're doing?" Alex's furious voice blasted through the receiver, making my ears ring. He rarely called me by my full name like this.

"Brooke has been careful and accommodating enough! I've told you countless times that she won't affect you! Why did you send her those vicious texts, cursing my children?"

I didn't even know what he was talking about. Vicious texts? I laughed until my stomach cramped. He didn't even ask if it was really me. He just decided I was guilty.

"Are you finished?" My voice was as calm as stagnant water.

My reaction caught him off guard, and his anger deflated slightly. "Next Sunday is the children's one-month celebration. You have to attend. Em, stop throwing tantrums, okay?"

"Fine."

After hanging up, I stared at the stars outside my window and suddenly felt that everything had lost its meaning.

…

On the day of the celebration, I arrived without makeup. Among the glittering guests dripping in jewelry, I looked like a misplaced ghost. Everyone watched me with pitying, curious, and gleeful looks.

In the center of the banquet hall, Brooke wore an eye-catching red gown. She nestled against Alex's side like a delicate bird, smiling like the true lady of the house.

Victoria saw me and frowned impatiently. "Since you're here, hold the children and share in the joy."

Alex brought his daughter to me, lowering his voice with a hint of pleading. "Em, about the texts, I won't pursue it anymore. I know you're upset.

"After today, I'll arrange for Brooke to go abroad. The children... The children will be registered under your name. I know you..."

He stopped, looking at me with complicated eyes. I knew what he wanted to say.

Years ago, when my laboratory caught fire in an accident, he came looking for me. I pushed him to safety and inhaled toxic chemical fumes, fundamentally damaging my body. The doctor said I would have great difficulty having children of my own for the rest of my life.

He had held me and sworn that the two of us would be enough for this lifetime. He wanted nothing else, only me. Now he was saying, "Isn't this the perfect solution?"

My heart felt like it was being burned by that fire all over again, the pain so intense that I could barely breathe. Just then, the baby girl in my arms suddenly began coughing violently. Her little face turned bright red before she spat up a mouthful of blood-tinged milk.

"Something's wrong with the baby!" someone screamed.

Brooke lunged toward me like a madwoman, her voice sharp enough to shatter glass. "Emma! If you have a problem, come at me! Why are you hurting my child?"

A sharp slap rang out. George had struck me himself.

The blow forced my head to the side, stars exploding before my eyes as I fell to the ground. My cheek burned with pain, and my mouth instantly filled with the metallic taste of blood.

Alex instinctively reached out to help me up. Just as his fingertips were about to touch my arm, the other child, the boy, suddenly let out a wail and vomited a large mouthful of fresh blood.

The scene erupted into complete chaos.

"Mr. Carter!" Brooke shrieked desperately, pushing between us like a magnet. "Our son! Please save our son!"

Alex's hand, reaching toward me, trembled violently in midair. I watched clearly as the struggle and guilt in his eyes were slowly devoured by panic and heartache.

Slowly, he pulled his hand back. He turned and picked up the vomiting boy.

…

In the hospital hallway, the smell of disinfectant was overwhelming. I stood lost in the sterile white maze. The divorce papers I'd prepared slipped from my coat pocket, fluttering to the ground.

Victoria's sharp eyes caught sight of them. She stepped forward, snatched them up, and after reading the contents, roughly threw them back at my face. The paper's edge cut my cheek, leaving a thin, stinging wound.

Her well-maintained face was filled with poisonous disgust. "You wicked woman! How has the Carter family wronged you all these years? Tell me!

"Alex argued with us countless times over your little perfume business, and we tolerated it! Now, you can't even accept two innocent children?

"Since you're so desperate to leave, then get out! Stop wasting everyone's time and holding Alex back!"

I silently bent down and picked up the dust-covered agreement. The PICU door opened, and Alex emerged with bloodshot eyes. "The children... They're saved."

He looked at me with eyes full of anger, as if I were his mortal enemy. "Emma, you've really gone too far this time."

Trembling, I held out the divorce papers to him. "Let's... end this."

His pupils contracted sharply as he stared at me intently. "Are you sure?"

"I'm tired." I held back my tears. "I'm afraid if I stay any longer, I don't know what else might happen."

"Fine! Just fine!" He snatched the agreement, pulled a pen from his pocket, and viciously signed his name. Then, he slammed the pen down, breaking it in half with a sharp crack.

"Emma, do as you wish!"

I returned to what had once been our marital home, the penthouse apartment called "Century Residence".

Pauline Sutton, our maid who had cared for me for years, rushed over in panic. "Ma'am! Your face..."

I looked around and noticed my beloved antique perfume organ from the living room was gone. Our large wedding portrait on the wall had disappeared. Even the limited edition perfume bottles I'd collected from around the world, once displayed in the entryway cabinet, had all but vanished.

This home had been stripped of every trace of me. Pauline wrung her hands nervously.

"Ms... Ms. Anderson came to live here during her pregnancy. She said the perfume scents made her dizzy, so Mr. Carter had everything kept away."

The door lock clicked open, and Alex walked in with Brooke. She leaned against him, and when she saw me, her face showed perfectly timed surprise.

"Ms. Shaw, what brings you here?"

Her tone suggested she was the lady of the house.

"Where are my things?" My voice shook as I stared at Alex.

Alex let out a cold laugh, pulling Brooke closer to him. "We're getting divorced anyway. Why do you care about this stuff?"

Brooke walked over with false concern, trying to take my hand. "Ms. Shaw, please don't blame Mr. Carter. It's because I was weak during my pregnancy and was afraid of damaging those precious things..."

"Don't touch me!" I jerked my hand away like I'd been burned.

She cried out in surprise, swooning backward with delicate fragility. Alex caught her swiftly, checking her anxiously from head to toe.

"Are you okay? Does anything hurt?"

Watching them together, nausea churned violently in my stomach. I turned and walked away.

Behind me came Alex's voice, laced with anger. "Emma! Stop right there!"

I didn't look back. I didn't want him to see how pathetic I looked in that moment.

Outside, a torrential downpour had begun. I wandered the streets aimlessly like a soulless puppet. The rain washed away the tears on my face, freezing and sharp.

After wandering for what felt like hours, a group of thugs cornered me in a dark alley.

"Well, well, if it isn't Ms. Shaw," the leader with a scarred face leered as he approached. "Someone paid us to take real good care of you."

He leaned closer, taking a deep sniff. "Smells good. The washed-up wife of a tech mogul really is something else."

Instinctively, I reached for my phone and dialed the number I knew by heart. The call connected immediately, but instead of relief, Alex's tender voice came through.

"Don't be afraid. It's just a nightmare. Go back to sleep."

He was saying this to Brooke.

"Alex! Help me!"

"Emma, I don't have time for your games right now."

The call was cut off abruptly. When I tried again, only the cold automated message of a phone was heard. Ice-cold rainwater mixed with desperate tears flowed into the corners of my mouth, bitter and salty.

"Go ahead, scream! You can scream your head off, but no one will come!"

The thug's grimy, oil-stained hand reached for the collar of my coat, his rough fingertips scraping across my collarbone. I squeezed my eyes shut, nails digging into my palms, feeling nothing but cold.