Their sheer audacity left me speechless.

If I handed over my parents' pension and home, how could I ever face them again? I'd be unworthy of the name 'son.'

I clenched my fist, shaking off my father-in-law's grasping hand.

"Just because you don't value me doesn't mean I'm worthless."

I turned and walked away without looking back.

Behind me, the Hensons erupted.

"Ungrateful wretch! Selfish to the core! We only asked for a pension and a house! No wonder my daughter is dumping you!"

"My daughter is a swan, and you're just the toad she was unlucky enough to land on!"

"Good riddance!"

"Caroline will marry into high society now. You can rot in the dirt!"

Her relatives piled on, their words dripping venom. They cursed me as trash who didn't know his place. Mocked my average looks and lack of fortune.

The injustice burned. Over the years, I'd supported them without hesitation. Lent money I knew I'd never see again. Treated my in-laws like my own flesh and blood—the best food, finest wine, new clothes for every holiday. Never missed a single occasion.

When they were hospitalized after a car accident, Caroline was "too busy" on a business trip to care. My parents and I sat by their bedsides for a month, scrubbing floors and spoon-feeding them.

I'd foolishly thought five years of care would earn their respect.

Wrong. It wasn't just Caroline who looked down on me. The entire family believed I'd punched above my weight, that I was lucky just to be in their presence. No matter how much I gave, it would never be enough.

The drive to the courthouse was suffocating.

Caroline broke the silence. "What did you mean back there? 'Not necessarily that I'm someone nobody wants'?"

She scoffed. "You honestly think you can marry into a good family after this? Find someone better than me?"

Before I could answer, she laughed—sharp and mocking.

"Harrison, stop dreaming. Aside from 'emotional value,' what do you actually bring to the table?"

She looked out the window, bored. "I'll tell you the truth. All that 'goodness' you gave me? I got tired of it years ago."

I gripped the steering wheel tighter.

Even at the bitter end, she had to twist the knife.

I still remembered our wedding day. Caroline had looked into my eyes and said, In the whole world, only you are genuinely good to me. Everyone else has ulterior motives. I love you, and I will never get tired of you.

And now? The ink on the divorce papers wasn't even dry, and I was already nothing to her.

We returned to the apartment to finalize the separation.

The moment we walked in, Caroline marched to the living room wall. She ripped our wedding photos down, smashed the frames, and burned the prints in a metal bin.

"Harrison. Delete everything involving me." Her tone was cold, imperious. "I don't want any traces left behind."

She looked at me like I was a stranger. An employee she was firing.

"Okay."

I didn't fight her. I took out my phone and began the purge. WeChat, QQ, phone number—deleted. Every photo with her face—trashed.

As the storage bar cleared, I stared at the screen. I expected pain. Instead, a weight lifted off my chest.

It was over.

Caroline snatched my phone, scrolling through to make sure I hadn't hidden anything. Satisfied, she zipped up her suitcase and dragged it toward the door.

At the threshold, she paused.

"Harry."

Her voice softened—the nickname she hadn't used in months.

I looked up. Despite everything, a lump formed in my throat.

"People have to look out for themselves, don't they?" Her eyes held no guilt. "Don't blame me. Blame yourself. You're just... not exciting enough. Not outstanding."

With that, Caroline Henson walked out of my life.

I listened to her footsteps fade down the hallway. Light. Bouncy. She was already surging with excitement, eager to call that second-generation heir from the Manhattan elite circle she'd been bragging about.

I walked to the window and looked down.

Her best friend was waiting at the curb. Beside her, a man leaned against a luxury car—slicked-back hair, arrogant smirk.

He leaned against a car worth millions, a Rolex glinting on his wrist. Every inch of him screamed old money.

"Caroline!" her best friend called out, waving. "Congratulations on the divorce! You've finally escaped that sea of misery!"

She gestured to the man beside her. "This is my husband's close friend, Finn Sullivan. He told me he has a thing for women like you."

Caroline's cheeks flushed pink. Her gaze swept over him, and greed ignited in her eyes.

Finn's lips curved into a charming smile. He opened the rear door with practiced elegance. "Hop in, Princess."

"You certainly know how to charm a girl." She flashed her most captivating smile and slid into the leather seat.

I watched the entire scene from the upstairs window.

As the car sped away, a nagging familiarity tugged at me. I'd seen that man before. Trusting my gut, I sent the photo I'd snapped to an old classmate—an Interpol officer.

Is this the fugitive you guys are hunting?