On the day of our fifth wedding anniversary, I received a transfer of 99.99 million dollar from my husband, Griffin Beckham. I should have been happy to see this transfer, but "Quincy" wasn’t my name. It was Griffin's first love.

A few seconds later, the transfer was reversed. He sent a voice message, casually saying, "Wrong number."

At that moment, my mother was lying in the hospital and the surgery fees were still unbelievable. I've begged him countless times, but he always said we were short on funds and I had to wait.

I couldn't take it anymore and dialed the number, "Didn't you say you had no money? The doctor said my mom's going to die if she doesn't have surgery soon!"

He was silent for a moment, then his voice was calm, "It's different. Your mom can hold on for a few more days, but tomorrow is Quincy's birthday and she's got her eye on a rare bag."

"What kind of bag is worth a life!?"

"Suzy, are you ever going to stop?" His tone suddenly became harsher, "Quincy got heart disease because I married you, what's wrong with me buying her a gift! Besides, look at yourself, always look so sloppy, what's the difference between you and a nanny? How can I not compare you to Quincy?"

The call ended abruptly.

Meanwhile, his first love updated her social media. [So-called favoritism is basically where a man's heart is, wherever his money is.]

Griffin liked and commented, [You deserve it.]

I smiled. Since his love had a price tag and my sincerity wasn’t even worth the money needed to save a life. Then this kind of man was better off without.

The notification of the transfer being withdrawn popped up just as I hung up the doctor's call demanding payment.

I was about to send a message to question him, but Griffin's voice message appeared first, "Transferred to the wrong person."

Those words pierced my heart with precision and I finally couldn't help but dial the number.

"Where's the money? Griffin, where's my mother's surgery fee?!"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, followed by Griffin's impatient voice, "You're at it again. Didn't I tell you, the company's cash flow..."

"Griffin, you just transferred 99.99 million to Quincy." I interrupted him, each word seeming to be squeezed out from between clenched teeth.

The other end of the line fell silent instantly, even the breathing seemed to soften.

“That was her birthday present.” After a long silence, he finally spoke. “I promised her a long time ago.”

“My mother’s life isn’t worth as much as a birthday present?”

“Suzy!” he interrupted sharply. “Don’t compare things like that. Why did Quincy get heart disease? If I hadn’t married you back then…”

“You were the one who pursued me back then!” I cried out. “You were the one who knelt down and proposed!”

Memories flooded back unexpectedly. Five years ago, Griffin’s heart and eyes were filled with nothing but me. He would suspend an international conference and fly back when I had menstrual cramps, just to personally brew a bowl of brown sugar ginger tea.

He would use his connections to bring in a top-notch team of experts when my mother suffered a sudden heart attack. He would go through a thunderstorm, traveling thousands of miles by helicopter to arrive before midnight to celebrate my birthday with me.

Back then, his eyes shone with light when he looked at me. But that light was extinguished after his first love, Quincy, returned to Crosswood.

First, there were endless phone calls late at night; then, the unfamiliar scent of perfume on his collar; and finally, he openly accompanied her to various events, without any attempt to hide it.

“Look at yourself now,” Griffin’s voice pulled me back to reality, cold and harsh. “You’re always so slovenly, no different from a nanny. How can you compare to Quincy.”

I looked down at myself. I was truly pathetic, but who gave me this pathetic state?

Six months ago, my mother urgently needed surgery, but the surgeon was unexpectedly replaced by Quincy. During the surgery, Quincy received a phone call and simply left the operating room. My mother’s condition worsened that night, requiring a heart transplant.

I went to confront Quincy, but Griffin vehemently protected her, only telling me she was in a bad mood and then the matter was dropped.

"So what?" My thoughts returned and I asked through gritted teeth, "So you took the money meant for my mom's life-saving treatment and used it to buy her a bag?"

"Your mom can wait two more days. That limited edition bag Quincy had her eye on will be gone if I don't buy it tomorrow," he said coldly.

Before I could say anything more, the call abruptly ended.

My phone screen was still lit; there was a new update on my Instagram. Quincy posted a photo of a high-end restaurant with floor-to-ceiling windows in the background, two wine glasses on the table.

The caption read, [Those who are favored are fearless. It proves that a man's heart is where his money is.]

Griffin liked it instantly and commented, [You deserve it.]

I stared at that comment for a long time, then liked it and replied below, [May you two be locked in forever.]

Then, I pulled up the number at the bottom of my contacts. The call connected quickly.

"I agree to go abroad with you and join your company."

"On the condition that I need 800,000 dollar for his life-saving treatment and that I make sure Griffin is penniless within a month."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before a voice said, "Deal. The money will be in your account in ten minutes. I'll pick you up in seven days."

After hanging up, I dialed my lawyer again, "Mr. Lawrence, draft a divorce agreement for me. I want a divorce."

Less than a minute after the call ended, 800,000 dollar was deposited. Watching my mother being smoothly wheeled into the operating room, I leaned against the wall and let out a long sigh of relief for the first time.

My phone vibrated at that moment; it was an unknown number.

As soon as I answered, a young boy’s panicked voice came from the other end, “Is this Spencer’s sister? Come to the South District bar quickly! Something’s happened to him. Someone has accused him of harassment and molestation.”

My vision blurred and I almost dropped my phone. “Who is he harassing? Spencer couldn’t possibly...”

“It’s true! Spencer said that woman’s name is Quincy...”

I couldn’t hear the rest; my ears were ringing. I hung up and rushed into the elevator. I called Griffin over a dozen times along the way, but no one answered.

But when I arrived at the bar, I witnessed a heartbreaking scene. Griffin was gently comforting Quincy, his arm around her shoulder. Quincy leaned against him, her eyes red and swollen, looking utterly terrified.

Hearing footsteps, she looked up and a fleeting, almost defiant smile flashed in her eyes as she met my gaze.

“Suzy!” Spencer’s eyes instantly turned red when he saw me. “I didn’t do it, I really didn’t touch her, she framed me...” Before he could finish, Griffin’s bodyguard covered his mouth.

“Suzy, you really have surprised me.” Griffin’s voice followed, filled with undisguised anger and disgust.

“Just because I didn’t pay you immediately after your mother’s surgery, you instructed your own brother to use such despicable means to retaliate against her? How could you be so vicious!”

Instructed? Me, vicious? My blood rushed to my head. Looking at the man I’d shared a bed with for five years, he felt utterly estranged.

“Griffin, I didn’t ask Spencer to do anything. My mother just went into the operating room, I...”

“Enough!” he shouted sharply, not wanting to listen at all.

“A waiter witnessed it firsthand, the evidence is conclusive. I called you here only to inform you that the lawyer is preparing the materials. Spencer must pay the price for his actions!”

My heart felt like it had been stabbed by a dull knife. Looking at his resolute gesture in protecting Quincy, I suddenly felt that the past five years had been a ridiculous joke.

At this moment, Quincy, who had been sobbing quietly, suddenly tugged at Griffin’s sleeve.

“Griffin, please don’t be like this,” she choked, her voice filled with reluctance. “Spencer is, after all, your brother in law. I don’t want you two to hurt your relationship because of me. But, I’m really scared…”

She looked at me timidly, tears falling again, “If Suzy and Spencer are willing to kneel down and apologize to me in front of everyone, admitting their mistakes, I can forgive them and not pursue the matter.”

These words further solidified the accusation that Spencer had harassed her and that I had instigated him. A murmur rippled through the crowd, countless gazes piercing like needles.

Griffin looked at Quincy, his eyes softening instantly, filled with heartache, but when he turned back to me, his expression returned to its icy coldness.

“Did you hear that? Quincy is kind and willing to let you off the hook.” He stared at me, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Hurry up and do as she said!”

“I did nothing wrong, what’s there to apologize for!” Spencer roared, his eyes bloodshot. “You blind man, Griffin, this woman framed me. Suzy, don’t listen to them!”

“Shut up!” Griffin glared at Spencer, then fixed his gaze on me. “Suzy, do you want your brother to bear the charge of indecent assault, ruining his future, or do you want to apologize? The choice is yours.”

A moment of silence followed. Griffin looked at me quietly, his face expressionless. I knew what he was waiting for. He was waiting for me to bow my head, waiting for me to admit defeat, waiting for me to personally shatter the last vestiges of my dignity.

"Griffin," I heard my own voice, terribly dry, "is it... that if I apologize, you promise you won't pursue Spencer anymore?"

Griffin nodded. Spencer was about to rush forward when Griffin's men grabbed him, their eyes bloodshot as they shook their heads at me.

I released my grip, my knees buckled and I slammed heavily to the ground. A moment of silence followed, then a murmur of discussion erupted.

"My god, Mrs. Beckham really knelt before that woman?"

"Huh? I heard Mr. Beckham has always had his first love in his heart, looks like it's true..."

"No wonder, the main character kneeling before the mistress."

Quincy seemed uneasy amidst the murmurs; she gently tugged at Griffin's sleeve.

"Griffin, it's alright, everyone's watching, I... I forgive them, please let her get up."

Griffin's expression softened slightly, his gaze returning to me, but still carrying a lingering coldness.

"Quincy is soft-hearted, let's just let this go, but don't let it happen again and don't have any more inappropriate thoughts." His words were pointed, a clear warning.

I didn't answer, but simply stood up, my legs numb. Spencer immediately helped me up, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped me. We didn't look at the two people again and walked out of the bar amidst a chorus of pity and mockery.

On the way, Spencer's eyes were red, his fists clenched so tightly they cracked. "Suzy, why did you..."

"Mom's in the hospital having surgery," I interrupted him. "Just a few more days and this will never happen again."

He froze, looking at my face, swallowing the rest of his words and wiped his eyes heavily.

When we arrived at the hospital, my mother was just being wheeled out of the operating room. The doctor said it went smoothly and she just needed to be observed. I had just breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall to catch my breath, when I heard a familiar voice from the other end of the corridor.

Griffin and Quincy had also come to the hospital. Griffin saw me first, his brows immediately furrowing and he walked over in a few steps.

"The surgery?" he asked.

"I paid for it."

"Where did the money come from?" he pressed, his tone dripping with undisguised suspicion and disdain. "Eight hundred thousand, who gave it to you?"

"It's none of your business."

"None of my business?" Griffin took a step forward. "Suzy, I don't care how you got the money, but if I find out you've had any improper thoughts or damaged the Beckham Family's reputation, I won't let you off the hook."

I looked up at him, suddenly feeling utterly hopeless, "Griffin, do you think that without you I should die, or that I should steal and rob?"

He frowned.

"The money is clean; I borrowed it. As for who I borrowed it from, you don't deserve to know. Also, I don't want to wear the title of Mrs. Beckham for another day. I'll give you the divorce papers as soon as possible."

"You want a divorce?" Griffin's voice suddenly rose, drawing the attention of a nurse nearby.

He lowered his voice, but his words were sharp and menacing. "Suzy, do you think divorce is something you can just decide to do? I don't agree. You'll never be able to shake off the title of Mrs. Beckham for the rest of your life."

"I've said it many times, Quincy and I are just friends. If you keep causing trouble, don't blame me for being impolite."

Quincy then approached, speaking softly, "Griffin, don't be like this… Suzy is probably just too sad."

She turned to me and smiled. "By the way, Suzy, tomorrow is my birthday. I'm having a small party in Landing Hotel. Tomorrow is also your and Griffin's wedding anniversary. Come along, just to give me face."

Looking at her innocent face, my stomach churned. "I'm busy."

"You must come," Griffin commanded coldly, brooking no refusal. "With things going on like this tonight, people are bound to have second thoughts about Quincy. If anyone asks tomorrow, you can clear things up for her."

I looked at him and to ensure a smooth departure, I finally suppressed all my emotions and forced out a single word, "Okay."