The peace lasted until the afternoon, when it was shattered once again.

"Come to the study."

At 2:00 pm, Vanessa pushed open my bedroom door, dropped those words, and left.

When I entered the study, Dylan was curled up in the armchair by the window, playing on his phone. The moment he saw me, he deliberately nudged closer to Vanessa.

Vanessa sat upright behind her desk.

"I need you to sign the paperwork and transfer the deed to the lakefront mansion in Northridge to Dylan."

I looked down, my eyes skimming the address on the documents.

No. 17, Crestwood Park.

It was the first property we had chosen together before we got married. I vividly remembered that day, her fingers tightly interlaced with mine.

"Mason, this will be our home from now on," she said. "When we're old and gray, we'll sit out in the yard and soak up the sun together. Doesn't that sound nice?"

For that house, I personally oversaw eight months of renovations. I even planted climbing roses along the courtyard walls until they were completely covered.

But later on, every time Vanessa brought home a new lover, she would ruthlessly sever another bond we shared, casually giving away our memories to someone else.

In that brief moment of distraction, the tip of the pen nicked my index finger, and a tiny bead of blood welled up.

Vanessa, who had been leaning back in her chair, immediately bolted forward.

She caught my wrist, pulled my finger to her lips, and took that drop of blood into her mouth.

Then, she opened a drawer, found a Band-Aid, and kept her head down as she carefully wrapped it around my finger.

Even after it was on, she didn't let go right away.

Holding onto my fingertips, she pushed the document toward me. "Now that you're patched up, get this signed. Dylan loves the view over there. You barely ever go anyway, so just let him have it.

"It's just a house. Don't worry. You'll always be my husband," she assured me.

I looked down at the Band-Aid she had wrapped so carefully around my finger.

I picked up the pen again and signed my name without a second thought.

"There. Take it."

Dylan let out a soft chuckle by the window.

Without giving him so much as a glance, I turned to leave.

"Wait."

Vanessa reached out and caught me by the chin. "Are you sure you're not upset?"

She seemed to be searching my eyes for something.

Her jaw clenched tightly.

"You're getting more compliant these days. You'd better keep being this sensible," warned Vanessa.

"Unless there's anything else, I'm going back to bed to catch up on some sleep. I didn't rest well last night," I said.

She released me, and I walked toward the door without a second thought.

Just as I was about to step out, a woman's blazer was draped over my shoulders. Vanessa's hand lingered on my shoulder for a brief moment.

"The AC is freezing in here. Keep the blazer on. If you get sick, I'll be the one who has to deal with it."

She paused, then added, "The kitchen is making your favorite fish and chips tonight. I'll have dinner with you, so make sure you come downstairs."

"Got it."

I left the study with her blazer over my shoulders.

But as I passed the hallway, I took it off and casually draped it over the railing.

When I returned to my room, my phone lit up with a screenshot of a wire transfer from my mother-in-law, Evelyn Sinclair.

It was a cool 100 million dollars.

Right after, she sent another text message.

"Does my foolish daughter still think she's being considerate? And that she's the ultimate catch for a wife?"

I calmly replied, "Pretty much."

That evening, I started packing my suitcase.

The money Evelyn had lost to me through our wagers had been trickling steadily into my account.

Seven lovers meant seven massive payouts, plus the extra compensation package for the mansion at Crestwood Park.

The balance in my bank account was more than enough for me to start an entirely new life in a place where Vanessa didn't exist.

I folded a few everyday clothes and packed them neatly into the suitcase.

Not a single item she had bought me made it in there.

Just then, the bedroom door was pushed open.

Vanessa walked into the room, her eyes falling on the open suitcase on the floor.

"Look at you, all packed up and ready to go. And here I thought I was going to surprise you. Don't pack too much. It gets cold over in Iridia. I'll take you shopping for new clothes once we land."

She came up behind me, wrapped her arms around my waist, and rested her chin on my shoulder. She even reached for a sweater nearby and tossed it into my suitcase for me.

"Oh, by the way, Dylan mentioned he really wants to see the Northern Lights. I figured we'd let him tag along on this trip."

Her voice deepened.

"There's plenty of room in my private jet. He won't be in your way at all. Don't be petty about this. It'll just make things awkward for everyone."

My hands paused over the clothes I was folding.

It was our third wedding anniversary, and Vanessa was planning to take another man with us to watch the Northern Lights in Iridia.

That was the same attitude she had when she first brought someone home, and it had happened right here in this very room.

Back then, Vanessa had come home reeking of perfume.

With bloodshot eyes, I hurled her clothes onto the floor and demanded that she explain herself at the top of my lungs.

However, she had simply tugged at her collar in frustration.

"It's just harmless fun. What's the big deal if I mess around a little? I'm still standing right here with you, aren't I? No one else is ever going to take your place as my husband. Can you stop throwing a tantrum and ruining things for everybody?"

That night, I cried all night long and shredded every single photo we had taken together at Crestwood Park.

After that, there was a second incident, then a third.

Until six months ago, when Evelyn approached me.

For the sake of those growing payouts, I forced myself to keep playing the role of her emotionless, forgiving husband.

But now, she wanted to take this absurd farce tens of thousands of feet into the air.

Vanessa's arms tightened slightly around me.

"How long are you going to keep sulking? I've already pushed back two major meetings just to take you to Iridia for our anniversary. I'm giving you plenty of respect here. If you keep being so petty, you're just being ungrateful."

When I spoke, there wasn't a hint of resentment in my voice.

"I never said I wouldn't go. I was just thinking about how cold it gets over there."

Vanessa loosened her arms slightly. She walked around to face me and frowned as she studied my face.

"Still throwing a fit, are we?"

Just then, Dylan's voice drifted in from the hallway, calling Vanessa's name in a sweet, cloying tone.

She straightened her clothes and prepared to check on him.

As she reached the doorway, she turned back around, strode over to me, and planted a gentle kiss on my forehead.

"Be good. Get your passport and documents ready. Dylan and I are staying at a hotel tonight. The flight is scheduled for 3:00 pm tomorrow. I'll meet you at the airport. Don't be late."

Her tone softened just a fraction as her fingers slid through my hair.

With that, she turned on her heel and headed toward the room next door.

I quietly watched her disappear through the doorway.

"I hope the two of you have a wonderful time," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Then, I pulled out my phone and sent Evelyn one final message.

"Mom, this is the last time. Our bet ends here. I've received all the money, so thank you. I'm leaving tomorrow."

My phone buzzed twice in response.

"Alright. I've got a private jet all set up for you. You can board immediately. Mason, take good care of yourself from now on."

I set the phone down and stared out the window at the darkening sky.

At 3:00 pm the next day, Vanessa would be waiting for me on the tarmac.

But I would make sure that long before that, I would vanish from this house entirely.

"Goodbye forever."

The next morning, Vanessa took Dylan out to the mall.

The moment the front door clicked shut, the entire mansion fell into a dead, suffocating silence.

I stood in the entryway, waiting until I was sure her car had driven away before I hurried back upstairs, where my suitcase was packed and ready to go.

I placed the divorce agreement I had printed in advance right in the center of the dining table, then set my wedding ring on top of the first page.

Then, I popped the SIM card out of my phone and tossed both the card and the phone onto the nightstand.

Lugging my suitcase downstairs, I slipped into a pair of comfortable sneakers and walked right out the front door.

Our housekeeper, Sharon Brooks, stood at the end of the hallway, watching me leave, a helpless look in her eyes.

I gave her a slight, polite nod.

"I'm leaving. There's something for her on the dining table. Make sure she gets it when she comes back," I instructed.

On the way to the airport, I lowered the taxi window.

By noon, Vanessa pushed open the door, her arms piled high with shopping bags. Her first instinct was to head to the dining room.

The table was set with freshly prepared food, and right in the middle sat a plate of fish and chips—my favorite.

The lazy, casual smile on her face gradually faded.

"Where is he?" asked Vanessa.

Sharon handed her the divorce agreement and the ring from the dining table, and Vanessa snatched the papers out of her hand.

With a cold, dismissive scoff, she tossed the papers back onto the table.

"Oh, so he wants to play this game again?"

She pulled out her phone and dialed my number.

My phone was off.

And even when she called again, it was still off.

Realizing something was off, Dylan crept closer, his voice laced with caution. "Vanessa, do you think Mason might actually mean it this time?"

Vanessa ignored him entirely, her voice cold as she turned to the butler.

"Run a check on his credit cards right now. Find out which hotel he's checked into, and then freeze every single one of his accounts!"

She bent down, scooped up the wedding band, and squeezed it so hard that her knuckles turned white.

"Look at you, getting brave enough to dodge my calls. Fine, Mason. Let's see how long you can keep up this stubborn little act when you're left without a single penny to your name."

A thick, heavy stack of bank statements slammed violently onto the coffee table as Evelyn strode into the living room.

"Mom? What are you doing here?" asked Vanessa. "I bet Mason ran straight to you to cry and complain, didn't he? That's just how he is. Don't worry. The second his pockets run dry, he'll come crawling right back to me."

Evelyn stood rooted to her spot, staring coldly at her own daughter.

"Run dry?" she scoffed.

"Just three hours ago, I transferred the final payment into his personal bank account. Counting the previous six payments, the total comes to 700 million dollars. Not only that, but I also arranged for a private jet to take him abroad."

Vanessa's expression stiffened.

"What are you talking about? He doesn't care about the petty allowance you threw at him."

Evelyn walked over to the coffee table and began flipping through the bank statements one by one, spreading them out for Vanessa to see.

Every single statement was stamped with the date, a specific dollar amount, and a note attached to the transfer.

"Payment for the first affair. 100 million dollars.

"Payment for the second affair. 100 million dollars."

The third affair had its own transfer, too, and the payments continued all the way to the seventh and most recent one.

Dylan was so frightened that he shrank into the corner of the room.

Meanwhile, Vanessa kept her eyes glued to the bank statements. "T-This is impossible…"

Evelyn's voice was stone-cold.

"Did you honestly think he put up with you bringing those pathetic little flings into his home time after time because he was hopelessly in love with you? Stop flattering yourself, Vanessa.

"Six months ago, I made a bet with him. I bet that deep down, you were still a responsible wife, and sooner or later, you would come back to your senses. But look at you. You made me lose spectacularly.

"Vanessa, in his eyes, you stopped being a partner worth relying on the very first time you brought another man home."

Vanessa's lips trembled despite herself.

Evelyn bent over, picked up the ring that had fallen to the floor, and placed it right next to the seven bank statements.

"To him, you were just a bet."