Three years into our marriage, Nigel Gilbert had sent me to the police station ten times. I'd sent him to the hospital eleven.

Because every time I slapped his precious first love, he called the cops.

And every time I got out, I'd fight with him until one of us ended up in the ER.

Then came the business trip to Dubai. He shielded me from a collapsing beam. I shielded him from shrapnel.

From our hospital beds, we reached across the aisle and held hands.

"No more fighting, babe."

"I'll send her away."

"Let's just... be good to each other. Okay?"

Looking at the bandages covering both our bodies, I tore up the divorce papers with trembling hands.

"One last try."

Shirley Henson was sent away in tears.

Every trace of her was scrubbed from his phone.

Nigel gritted through the pain and had my name tattooed over his heart.

"I swear, you won't regret this."

On our seventh anniversary, the police called and asked me to come in.

A married couple had reported that my company's products gave their child food poisoning.

The wife was Shirley Henson.

The husband was Nigel Gilbert.

He lit a cigarette.

"She and I have a three-year-old kid. That's the situation."

We'd been back together for four years.

The child was three.

His buddies told me I should be grateful he'd at least had the decency to hide it.

I pulled out the divorce agreement from four years ago.

"Then let's make it official."

...

Shirley left the station clutching her son, sobbing.

Because I'd shut her down so thoroughly she couldn't get a word out.

Against my legal expertise, she didn't stand a chance.

She cried out of sheer frustration.

Back at the house, I stormed through the front door. Nigel followed, frowning.

"Would it kill you to show a little decency? Bullying a mother and her child—what does that prove?"

"Bullying?"

I spun around.

"There is nothing wrong with my company's products. She obviously fed her own kid something he shouldn't have eaten and tried to pin it on me for a payout. You couldn't see that?

"So tell me—who's bullying who?"

Nigel's brow creased.

I stepped closer.

"You know exactly how clean my formulas are. And you still helped them file a report."

A cold laugh escaped me. I looked at him with nothing but contempt. "You really haven't changed at all."

He let out a breath.

"Chloe Simmons, you can be really heartless sometimes."

I froze.

"The kid is three years old. She's a first-time mother. Her child was hospitalized with food poisoning—of course she panicked.

"You couldn't show an ounce of compassion, fine. But you went after a single mom and tore her apart over a small mistake.

"You..."

His gaze swept over me.

Then his lips curled into something cruel.

"Oh, right. You'll never be a mother yourself, so I guess you wouldn't understand what it feels like to have a child."

I stared at him in disbelief.

The next second, my palm cracked across his face.

"Nigel Gilbert! Whose fault is it that I can't be a mother? You don't remember?"

Something flickered behind his eyes. He lowered his gaze, unable to meet mine.

I didn't let him look away.

"Back in college, you got drunk and picked a fight. They came at you with a broken bottle.

"I stepped in front of you. The glass went into my stomach. That's why I can't carry a child."

Guilt bled across his face.

My lips twisted into a bitter smile.

"If I'd known you started that fight because of Shirley Henson—because of those guys hitting on her—I never would have saved you. Not in a million years."

His throat bobbed.

"I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"You've said a lot of things you shouldn't have. Seven years' worth."

I looked at him.

"The truth is, you never took me seriously. You never took our marriage seriously.

"Otherwise, something like that would never have slipped out of your mouth.

"Have you ever said the wrong thing in front of Shirley?"

He went silent.

I answered for him. "No, right?"

"I..."

"Nigel."

I cut him off. "Stop making excuses.

"You never took it seriously, and that's that. Just like when I told you before that I was giving you one last chance."

My gaze dropped to his chest, where my name was tattooed.

I let out a cold laugh.

"You only ever paid lip service to cherishing our last chance."

"I already took things underground with her. What more do you want?"

I stared at him in disbelief.

He grew agitated.

"In these four years, have you ever seen a single trace of her or her son in our life together?

"No, right?"

I could barely process what I was hearing. "Nigel..."

"Enough, Chloe."

He frowned. "If you hadn't been so petty and unreasonable this time, you never would have found out. You wouldn't have damaged what we have. We could've lived out the rest of our lives just fine."

When a person reaches the peak of fury, they really do laugh.

The complaint filed against my company should have been a routine matter for the legal department. I didn't need to get involved personally.

But the phone number on the complaint looked familiar.

I recognized it as Shirley's.

So I looked into it myself.

And uncovered the tangled threads still connecting Nigel to her.

Nigel let out a sigh.

"Just pretend you didn't see any of this.

"Chloe, don't destroy the relationship we worked so hard to repair."

I laughed.

I slapped the divorce papers onto the table.

"If you truly valued this marriage, you never would have stayed in contact with her!"

"What the hell are you doing?"

The moment Nigel saw the words Divorce Agreement, his breath visibly caught.

"Take that away!"

He reached to tear the papers up, but I pressed my hands down hard, pinning them to the table.

"Nigel, I told you. Four years ago was our last chance."

"Chloe..."

"Three days."

I held his gaze. "Give me an answer."

"Chloe! Chloe!!"

I walked out without looking back. He didn't stop me.

He stood there alone, staring at the agreement.

His fingers trembled.

I waited two days.

Nigel didn't reach out. The messages I sent went unanswered.

I decided to go home and press him in person.

But the moment I reached the front door, I heard the clink of glasses and the hum of conversation from inside.

"Mr. Gilbert, it's the last day on that divorce agreement. You're really not going to do anything about it?"

"Do anything?"

Nigel scoffed. "She's the one being unreasonable! She's the one who owes me an explanation!"

What?

My hand froze on the door handle.

"We've been married seven years. I'll let the past go. Bringing Shirley home was out of line, I admit it, and I understand why she threw divorce papers at me.

"But these last four years, we've been more in love than any couple I know. Even when we fought, she never once threatened me with something like this."

Nigel waved the agreement in the air.

"Has it ever crossed her mind how much damage this little tantrum is doing to us?"

I clenched my jaw.

One of his friends glanced toward the doorway.

His breath hitched.

He chose not to say anything.

Instead, he asked another question.

"Mr. Gilbert, what if she's serious?"

"Serious?"

Nigel laughed. "We've put our lives on the line for each other. It's not that easy to walk away."

"Then why'd you go and have a kid with Shirley? I thought you'd actually turned over a new leaf."

Nigel clinked glasses with them.

"A love forged through life and death doesn't need the same careful tiptoeing as the beginning. We saved each other's lives. She and I are inseparable in this lifetime."

I drew a sharp breath.

My heartbeat quickened, driven by fury.

I closed the door quietly.

It was time to go the legal route.

While I had my team prepare the litigation materials, Nigel's message came through on the third day:

Instead of wasting time fighting with me, you should hurry up and compensate Shirley for her losses.

Right after that, he sent over a court summons.

It was a lawsuit filed by Shirley Henson.

She was accusing my company of food safety violations.

Claiming we had caused her child's food poisoning.

I hadn't expected that after I'd made her cry last time, she still refused to give up.

But that kind of persistence had to have someone backing it.

I called Nigel.

"You helped her file this?"

Nigel chuckled softly.

He said nothing.

The answer was obvious.

"What if I refuse to pay?"

"Sweetheart, think carefully. The ones showing up in court this time will be the legal team under my company."

My breath caught.

"Why be so stubborn about this? Just admit fault and be done with it."

I gripped my phone tighter.

"This company is a brand my grandfather built. A century of reputation. You want me to admit fault and destroy the brand image the Simmonses spent generations building?"

Nigel sighed.

"Do you really have to make things difficult for her and her child?"

"You're the ones making things difficult for me!"

I clenched my jaw.

"Shirley fed her own child something he shouldn't have eaten!"

Nigel was silent for a moment.

When he spoke again, his voice had gone cold.

"Then you're on your own."

The line went dead with a flat dial tone.

I stood there, gripping my phone.

Sheila Finch from the legal department looked at me with concern.

"Ms. Simmons, the Gilberts have already sent us a formal letter from their attorneys. Their team has never lost a case, domestic or international. We..."

I clenched my fist.

"We fight. And I'll be right there with you."

Sheila's eyes lit up.

On the day of the hearing, when I took my place as both defendant and lead counsel, Nigel visibly froze.

He had no idea I held a law license.

My phone buzzed once.

A message from him.

I ignored it.

I faced the Gilberts' legal team head-on.

Throughout the entire proceedings, Nigel's expression was grim.

He realized his lawyers weren't invincible after all.

And that I had been hiding my legal expertise all along.

When the court dismissed Shirley's claims, she broke down crying right there in the courtroom.

I shot Nigel a cold, thin smile.

His expression was unreadable.

It wasn't until the court adjourned and he ran into me at the door that he spoke.

His smile was loaded with meaning.

"Ms. Simmons. Far more impressive than I imagined."

"What, planning to file an appeal on behalf of your little canary?"

"No."

He smiled. "My wife is this talented. Why would I keep going against her?"

I stared at him, not understanding what he was getting at.

He was already turning to leave.

"Then I wish Ms. Simmons continued success."

I frowned. "What is he up to?"

That night, I stayed at the office and didn't go home.

I went through the warehouse inventory, checked every safety and fire system.

Made sure there wasn't a single vulnerability to exploit.

Only then did I let myself breathe.

Sheila walked out with me at the end of the night.

"Thank God you were here, Ms. Simmons. Otherwise those legal vultures would've bled our profits dry!"