It was early morning and Nora Bishop had just woken up to find her husband watering the plants in the sunroom.

Damien Penn, with his sensitive allergies, had always hated the flowers she kept around. He used to say that no matter how much money she had, she was still born to be tending to plants.

Back when they first moved in together, he once lost his temper after a failed business call and dumped all her potted plants in the trash, cursing them as “bad luck.”

Later on, when Hadley remarked that beautiful women deserved beautiful flowers, Damien signed up for a floral design course. Every holiday, he personally arranged flower bouquets just for her.

Today, he set the watering can aside and walked toward Nora, his long legs moving with ease.

“You slept in today,” he said lightly. “I already watered the flowers for you.”

Then, smiling, he revealed a single tulip he had broken off and held it out to her. “Here. Your favorite.”

Even in plain loungewear, Damien looked effortlessly handsome as he leaned closer.

Nora took the tulip with a calm expression. “Thanks,” she said simply.

The truth was—Hadley was the one who liked tulips.

Nora had told Damien countless times that flowers could be appreciated while they were still rooted in the soil. But he never listened. Instead, he insisted on cutting them, wrapping them in expensive paper and delivering them to Hadley.

Even though she had already made up her mind, Nora still felt the twist of pain in her chest. She held the divorce papers tightly and forced herself to stay composed.

“There’s an urgent contract I need you to sign,” she said.

Damien frowned slightly, clearly unimpressed by her reaction. She was, as always, emotionless. A workaholic.

“How many times have I told you not to bring work home?” he said.

Nora’s fingers tightened around the flower stem.

“Only one. I promise,” she said quietly.

And it would be the last.

Damien sighed, took the folder and flipped it open. But before he could scan the details, Nora casually turned to the last page and covered the content with her hand.

“I’ve reviewed it already,” she said. “There’s no problem. Just sign.”

He didn’t question it. Nora had always been meticulous when it came to business. Besides, she looked like her usual self—cold, efficient, uninterested in anything but results. Annoyed, he grabbed a pen and signed without another word.

“Nora, seriously—you’ve got to stop living like this,” Damien said. “You need to learn to relax, go out, take care of yourself. Be more lively…like Hadley.”

“You won’t have to worry about any of that soon,” she reply quietly.

Soon, there wouldn’t be a Nora Bishop to worry about.

Normally, she would’ve argued—maybe said something about the company being in a critical phase, that she had responsibilities.

But not today.

Damien softened, misreading her silence. “Good. You’re both daughters of the Bishop Family. You shouldn’t have let Hadley outshine you.”

Then, almost like an afterthought, he added, “By the way, my birthday party this year’s will be on the new yacht. Don’t make scene.”

Nora was dumfounded. She’d nearly drowned once. Since then, she’d always been seasick, always afraid of water. But to Damien, that fear was nothing more than her ‘making a scene’.

Hadley, on the other hand, constantly posted bikini-clad beach photos online. Her dream, she’d said once, was to have her prince charming pick her up on a yacht.

Nora gave a faint, bitter smile.

She’d loved this man for eight years. But now, the goodbye felt long overdue.

Damien’s phone rang. Instantly, his expression softened—sickeningly sweet. He walked out onto the balcony to answer, lowering his voice as if that might hide the affection in it.

Still, Nora heard him.

“Hey, Hadley… no, I’m not going into the office today. I’m spending the day with you…”

Nora turned and walked upstairs. She wasn’t watching her step and hit the corner of the coffee table hard. A sharp pain shot up her foot.

She bit down on her lip. Her mouth filled with the taste of blood, but she kept walking.

By the time she reached the bedroom, she was soaked in sweat. Her toe was swollen and purple. In the mirror, her face looked pale, almost ghostlike.

She forced a crooked smile.

On the desk lay her notebook, the one she carried everywhere. Inside, she’d recorded 99 times Damien had hurt her—emotionally, silently, without ever raising a hand.

She picked up her pen and added the last line.

[100th. Divorce.]

Then she set the pen down and wiped her tears away.

This was the last time she shed tears for Damien Penn.

Among the hundred heartbreaks, Hadley’s name showed up the most.

Hadley Bishop—Nora’s younger sister. The adopted daughter of the Bishop Family. And the only person Nora had ever truly loved with her whole heart.

Nora and Damien had met back in college. At the time, Damien’s startup was tanking fast and Nora had just found out the truth: she was the Bishop Family’s biological daughter. Not Hadley.

Her birth parents had said all the right things—how sorry they were, how they wished they’d found her sooner. But in the same breath, they made excuses for Hadley.

“Nora, you grew up tough. You’re used to hardship. But Hadley… she wouldn’t survive a day in the life you lived.”

“You’ll both be our daughters from now on, but Hadley’s been sheltered her whole life. Let's keep the whole identity switch just between us, okay?”

So even though Nora was the real daughter, she was never acknowledged publicly. No grand homecoming, no family photos, no warm welcome. She might as well have been a secret lovechild.

Still, she agreed to it. Swallowed her pride and even begged her parents to invest in Damien’s business.

Her mother sighed, clearly annoyed. “You just got back and already asking for money? Who is this guy to us anyway?”

Then, after a moment’s pause, her tone shifted. “Well… you’re old enough now. If you like him that much, maybe just marry him.”

Damien’s jaw clenched, the veins in his forehead bulging. His voice was unreadable. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s get married.”

It wasn’t until much later, when Nora accidentally saw the messages between him and Hadley, that she realized the truth.

Damien had always been in love with Hadley.

But Hadley had bigger dreams back then. She was chasing someone with more power, more money—some rich heir with a yacht and a penthouse view. She didn’t even glance at Damien.

While Damien had his own agenda. He needed an investor. A way to get him to a new world. And she was his way out. She was nothing for him but a tool.

Back then, Nora didn’t want to understand what desperation looked like on a man like Damien. 

But this time? She would be the one making the choice.

She slipped off her wedding ring—the plain silver band she’d worn for five years. It still bore both their surnames engraved inside.

She placed it in a gift box, along with the divorce papers and the notebook—scheduled to be delivered on Damien’s birthday.

She was sure he’d be surprised.

Then, with trembling fingers, Nora dialed a number she’d buried long ago.

It rang once. Twice. Then someone picked up.

A familiar voice.

She closed her eyes and whispered, voice hoarse, “Kane… in ten days, there will be no more Nora Bishop. You once said you’d take me away. Does that offer still stand?”

The line went quiet for a long time. Just when Nora thought he wouldn’t answer at all, Kane finally spoke.

“Nora Bishop, you should know—anyone who dares to play me doesn’t stay alive for long.”

There was a pause, then he added, sharper this time,

“Don’t come testing me just because you think I’m still hung up on you. You really think I won’t change?”

For the first time in years, a faint smile touched Nora’s lips.

Kane Goode had been her childhood best friend. He’d fought his way up from nothing with sheer brilliance and ruthless determination, becoming a powerhouse in both domestic and international business. The man was a legend now—a mogul with steel in his veins.

Growing up, he had doted on Nora endlessly, confessed his love more times than she could count.

But then Damien showed up, like some storm out of nowhere. And once Nora laid eyes on him, she couldn’t see anything else—not even Kane.

She’d chosen Damien. And that choice had shattered Kane.

He left the country. Built a life overseas. But before he left, he told her, “If you ever change your mind, I’ll still be here.”

Now, Nora asked softly, “So… did you change?”

Kane’s voice dropped, gravelly and hoarse, “If I had, I wouldn’t have picked up this call.”

There was a pause, heavy with years of silence, before his voice hardened, sharp with pain. “It’s been eight years, Nora. Eight damn years you left me hanging. You don’t get to regret it now. Ten days. If I don’t see you at our old spot by then, I’ll make sure Damien and the entire Bishop Family burn with their empire.”

Nora hadn’t expected it—after all these years, the one who hadn’t changed… was Kane.

Tough words, always. But underneath that, no one had ever protected her like he did.

She tossed the single tulip into the trash and gathered herself before heading to the office.

A crowd had gathered outside her office door. Her assistant stood in front of her awkwardly, trying to block her from entering.

Nora peered past them and saw Hadley curled up in Damien’s arms inside her office, acting like she owned the place.

“This couch is ugly and stiff. I want a new one—real leather, soft and comfortable. And what’s with the lighting in here? These pendant lamps are depressing. Everything needs to go.”

Damien’s voice was warm, indulgent. “Whatever you want, Hadley. We can tear the place down and start from scratch if it makes you happy.”

Hadley wandered over to a landscape painting on the wall and reached out to touch it. “Who painted this? God, it’s hideous.”

Crash!

The painting hit the floor with a loud shatter. The frame broke, glass scattering everywhere.

Hadley screamed and Damien quickly pulled her into his arms, shielding her with a worried look on his face. “Leave it, Hadley!” he shouted as she moved to pick up the shattered pieces. “Are you okay? You didn’t get hurt, did you?” he asked, checking her over.

“Gosh! Isn’t that Nora’s painting? What if she gets mad?” she asked, eyes glistening with tears.

Damien’s voice turned cold, laced with indifference. “She was always into that useless artsy crap. Nothing we can do now that it’s ruined. What matters is that you’re okay.”

Nora clenched her jaw so hard it ached just to keep herself from crying out.

She was all business—always had been. She’d poured everything she had into helping Damien build his own empire. She gave him her time, her knowledge, her faith.

Back then, he’d treated her like she was his whole world. He knew she hated soft beds, so he had a foldable firm sofa custom-made just for her. He built her a solid redwood desk.

That painting on the wall? She painted it herself on their first wedding anniversary.

At the time, Damien had said the artwork was too bold for him—but that it suited her and insisted it be hung in her office.

Now… he called it crap.

The realization hit her like a punch. Eight years. Eight years she gave him—and all of it was a waste.

Nora curled her fingers into fists, turned to leave quietly before she lost control.

But Hadley spotted her.

“Is that you, Nora?”

For the first time in nearly eight years, Nora stepped into her office and felt like a stranger.

The heavy stench of perfume in the air nearly made her gag, yet Damien looked utterly intoxicated by it.

Funny—he used to complain when she added even a hint of fabric softener to his laundry, saying the scent was “too much.”

Hadley tugged Nora’s hand with a practiced pout. “Nora, my fans are obsessed with the girlboss aesthetic lately. I’m kinda have to work here and borrow your office for a while. You… won’t be mad, right?”

Damien scratched his nose and added lightly, “Hadley’s a top influencer now—over a million followers. Don’t be stingy, Nora. Support her brand a little.”

Stingy?

Had she ever asked for anything from Hadley to be called that?

“We can always carve out a desk for you in the secretary pool,” Damien offered casually. Like she was some intern, not the company’s executive director.

Hadley could have rented her own high-end office space—but instead, she claimed Nora’s. And he let her.

All these years building this company with him, Nora had taken barely more than an employee’s paycheck. She never asked for equity. Never claimed her share of the dividends.

And now? Not even the office she loved was hers to keep.

Hadley blinked innocently, her voice soft and sweet. “Can I have it just for a few days? I couldn’t find any place better than your office.”

Nora pulled her hand away and forced a smile. “Use it as long as you want.”

It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be needing it much longer anyway.

Hadley squealed in delight. “You’re right, Damien! Nora really let me have it!”

She never acted like Damien’s sister-in-law. And Damien never allowed Nora to call him “honey” outside the house.

He once said, “People might think it’s unprofessional for a married couple to work together.”

So Nora complied. She avoided him in public, tiptoed around appearances—just like he wanted.

Which was why most people didn’t even know they’d been married for years.

To the outside world, Damien was still the perfect, eligible bachelor.

Now, he looked at Hadley like she hung the stars. “Of course she did. It’s because you’re so radiant, it’s hard to turn down your request, Hadley.”

Nora remembered the day she came back to the Bishop Family. Hadley had smashed everything within reach, screamed at her to leave.

Her parents just looked at Nora with disappointment, telling her to be patient with her sister… be more understanding since she’s the older one.

Later, Hadley learned to fake sweetness. A few sugary words, a flutter of lashes—and the whole house adored her.

Then they started saying Nora’s too stiff and tell he to be more like Hadley.

But no matter what Nora did, she never seemed to be enough.

Hadley just had to stand there and everyone would praise her—telling how beautiful, radiant and perfect she was.

And Damien was always the first in line.

“This room is too cold and sterile,” Hadley announced. “We need color. Fresh flowers, bright ones!”

Damien nodded. “Great idea. The sunroom’s overflowing with them anyway. Just bring them in from the house.”

They walked out side by side, leaving Nora alone in what used to be her office.

She took a step and hissed in pain—glass shards had pierced through her shoes. Blood soaked into the carpet with every step.

A single tear slipped down her cheek, vanishing into the fibers below.

She began cleaning. Quiet, methodical, like peeling herself away from a life she no longer belonged to.

She deleted the photo of her and Damien from her desktop background.

Tossed out his favorite tea she used to stock just for him.

Removed the neatly ironed dress shirts she always kept in the cabinet in case he needed a change.

And finally, the photo frame on her desk—flipped face-down since that morning. Their wedding photo.

Her assistant came in just as she finished packing the last box, stunned at the contents. “Miss Bishop… you’re throwing all this away?”

Nora’s foot throbbed with every heartbeat. But she barely felt it anymore.

She gave a tired nod. “Don’t tell Mr. Penn. Just throw it out. As far away as possible.”