At nine in the evening, Julian arrived with a bag of fruit.

"Victoria, I got you some cherries. Want to have some now?"

I tossed my phone at him. The screen displayed Averil’s latest post:

"I said I wanted sweet-and-sour cherries, and he ended up buying regular ones instead. Hilarious."

"Did she not want them, so you decided to throw them my way?"

Julian frowned. "Don’t be like this..."

He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around my waist in a familiar gesture. "Is this because I haven’t touched you for so long? Are you upset about that?"

I shoved him away with all my strength, then made a point of gagging a few times right in front of him.

Dark clouds gathered on his face. "Victoria Dean, that’s enough. Stop acting like this."

"Acting like what?" My heart ached, tears streaming down my face. "Do you have any idea how many hateful calls I’ve received? Do you know I’ve been blacklisted by every major dance troupe? My career is ruined! Julian Ford, what did I do wrong to deserve this?"

I’ve always been the quiet, mild-tempered type—in other words, easy to push around.

Julian used to playfully tug on my earlobe, his voice full of affection.

"Victoria, you’re so easy to bully. What would you do without me?"

I never once imagined he’d leave me behind.

Years ago, when my parents took their own lives under a cloud of scandal, the entire world turned its back on me.

Julian was the one who pulled me out of the mud.

He stood up to his family for me, and I still remember how he knelt in the rain for hours, defying their disapproval.

He took me far away from the pain and gave us a fresh start in a new city.

Even when I was at my lowest, broken and worthless, Julian didn’t give up on me

The hardest days were behind us, yet now I faced his betrayal.

“Let’s divorce,” I said, closing my eyes. “At least let me keep some dignity.”

"Victoria..." Julian pinched the bridge of his nose, looking weary. "This isn’t the first time you got insulted, so why are you acting so delicate now?"

My eyes flew open in disbelief, and I stared at him, stunned.

“What did you just say?”

Julian pressed his lips into a thin line, his expression dark. “When your parents committed suicide, the whole country was cursing you—”

“Get out!” I screamed, grabbing a cushion from the sofa and hurling it at him. “Get out!”

Julian looked utterly taken aback. He had never seen me so hysterical. After a moment of stunned silence, he stormed out, taking the bag of cherries with him.

“Don’t need my leftovers, huh? Fine. Let’s see how long you can hold out,” he snapped as he left.

Not even ten minutes later, Averil posted another update.

"First day in the new place—this décor is so tacky. What kind of tasteless guy thought this up?"

The photograph showed his upstairs apartment. The so-called "tacky décor" was all my work.

Julian even replied to her post, "Yeah, it’s pretty bad. Let’s tear it down and redo it."

I rubbed my sore eyes, my tears long dried.

A house could be redecorated. A partner could be replaced.

To him, I was nothing more than an old, discarded toy.

When yet another harassing phone call came through, I finally pulled out my SIM card and replaced it with the number I’d used during my overseas performances.

Back then, a prestigious international dance troupe had extended me an offer, but I had turned down the opportunity because I couldn’t bear to part with Julian.

Now, with my heart pounding, I nervously dialed the number that had contacted me back then. “Hello, is this Mr. Jason Yates?”

There was silence on the other end. If not for the faint sound of breathing, I would have thought the call had been disconnected.

Why wasn’t he speaking? Had he seen the trending news?

Clutching the phone tightly, my palms grew damp with sweat. “Mr. Yates, please listen to me. I didn’t do any of those things. I’ve tried to post a clarification, but my social media account has been taken over. Every time I create a new one, my post gets deleted within seconds. I…”

“Wait for me.”

A low, muffled male voice interrupted me. It sounded unexpectedly familiar but was completely different from the blond-haired Jason I remembered.

I froze. “You’re not Jason?”

“Wait for me,” the voice repeated before abruptly hanging up.

I stood there, bewildered, trying to make sense of what just happened. As I was still in a daze, a text message came through, "Taking off. Turning off my phone."

A few seconds later, another message arrived, "Wait for me to return. I’ll take you away."

Although his words were vague, they made his stance clear.

I exhaled in relief.

Over the next few days, I started packing my belongings and handling the necessary paperwork.

I didn’t have much—just one suitcase in total.

I left behind everything Julian had ever bought for me.

It wasn’t because I was virtuous, nor was it because I still had feelings for him.

He had cheated, leaving me utterly broken.

When my world crumbled, my parents died in disgrace, and I became a pariah hounded by those who blamed me for the children’s deaths, it was Julian who saved me.

I didn’t know how he convinced his father, but after that long night kneeling in the rain, he was cast out of the Ford family. At the same time, the relentless attacks against me online suddenly disappeared.

He gave me a new name, a new identity, and a new life.

He truly caught me as I was falling, staying by my side through the darkest of days.

For that alone, I couldn’t bring myself to hate him.

All I wanted now was for us to part on good terms.

After three days of silence, Julian showed up again.

"Have you come to your senses after taking some time to cool off?"

I nodded, calm and collected. "I have."

He misunderstood me, a smug arc lifting his brow.

"Good. That’s more like it, Victoria. Remember your place. If you behave, I’ll take care of you. But if you overstep your boundaries, I’ll make sure you’re left with nothing."

He delivered his threats, but when I stayed silent, his gaze wavered, a hint of confusion flickering in his eyes.

"Are you done talking?" I placed the divorce papers on the table. "If so, just sign them."

Julian’s gaze darkened as he stared at the document. His cold eyes turned even frostier. "Victoria, you’ve known about my relationship with Averil for a long time. Why couldn’t you, like before, just pretend nothing happened? Why not turn a blind eye and continue enjoying the comfort of being Mrs. Ford?

"Everything she has, you have too. And what she doesn’t have, I can give you. Victoria, you shouldn’t be so ungrateful."

I stared at Julian in shock, unable to believe those words had come out of his mouth.

I still remembered back in high school, when Julian found out his father had cheated. His mother discovered the affair, and the resulting chaos rocked the entire family.

Julian’s father shouted at his mother, "Men in my position are expected to have mistresses. I’m not divorcing you, so stop making a scene."

At fifteen, Julian had grabbed a baseball bat and shattered a porcelain vase next to his father. Amid the scattered shards, he said coldly, "A man without responsibility doesn’t deserve to be called a man. He might as well be a eunuch."

At that moment, I thought Julian was the coolest person in the world.

But now, fifteen years later, that once-principled boy had grown into the exact kind of man he had once despised.

The thirty-year-old Julian had become a mirror image of the father he loathed.

The realization made me sick to my stomach.

"Not a chance," I said, pushing the divorce papers closer to him again. "After the divorce, you can keep as many women as you like."

Julian stared at me for a long moment before finally picking up the papers between two fingers, his expression unreadable.

"You want a divorce? Fine. But don’t you think it’s time we settle the debt you owe me for all these years?"

I nodded and took out a bank card. "There’s one million dollars in this account. It’s more than enough to cover the cost of my living expenses over the years."

Julian’s brows furrowed as he looked at the card I had clearly prepared in advance. "One million dollars? Do you think that’s enough?"

"It’s enough." I met his gaze firmly. "I’ve kept track of every household expense. The records are in the study if you want to verify them. The luxury items and jewelry you bought me are all accounted for as well. The ones I used have already been depreciated and factored into the total.

"Julian Ford, I owe you nothing."

He was silent for so long that I thought he might refuse. But then, to my surprise, he let out a low chuckle.

"I was planning to take you to a charity gala tomorrow night. But since you don’t need me, let’s forget about it."

His gaze lingered on my face for a few seconds, as though he were searching for a hint of regret.

But he was destined to be disappointed.

My expression remained calm, devoid of any emotional fluctuation. "We’re in a secret marriage, Julian. The role of Mrs. Ford can be replaced anytime."

His lips pressed into a thin line before he tossed an invitation onto the table.

"Your name is on it. Come with me tomorrow night, and I’ll agree to the divorce."

I had no idea what Julian was trying to accomplish.

But I had no other choice but to agree.

When I changed into the gown Julian sent over and arrived at the venue, chauffeured by his driver, I realized I had underestimated his cruelty.

This wasn’t a private gala at all.

The red carpet was lined with media reporters and cameras, while fans holding flowers and banners screamed the names of their idols.

I barely had time to process it before someone noticed me.

"Look! Isn’t that the fake marriage fraudster?"

Ever since Julian used my account to post that forced apology, I’d been labeled as the "fake marriage fraudster."

I had seen countless insults online, but no amount of text could compare to the humiliation of hearing the taunts whispered directly in my ear.

"Victoria Dean, how do you even have the nerve to show your face here?"

"Look at her dress. Averil’s wearing white, and so is she. Typical attention-seeking move."

"Don’t even try to compare her to our idol, Averil. She’s not worthy!"

"Exactly. Averil’s dress is haute couture, straight off the runway, and hers? Looks like a two-year-old knockoff."

The vicious jeers flooded my ears. I tried to turn and escape, but a "staff member" grabbed my arm.

Looking up, I recognized him instantly—it was Hank, Julian’s bodyguard.

He smiled at me, his eyes glinting with malice.

"Miss Dean, Mr. Ford said you must enter the venue."

Hank was a distant relative of Averil. Last time at the hospital, he had purposely gripped me so hard that bruises bloomed all over my arm.

Julian had seen it but only gave a cursory reprimand. Now, he had unleashed him on me again.

The Julian who once cherished me like I was his whole world was long gone.

Bitterness welled up inside me, sharp and sour, but there was no escaping. Hank dragged me forward, half-pulling, half-shoving.

"Look at Victoria’s awkward walk! Doesn’t she look like a lame old mule?"

"She’s probably trying to crash the red carpet and got shut down by the bodyguard!"

"Victoria, you’re a trashy parasite!"

Before I could react, a sharp insult was followed by a sudden blow—a drink bottle hurtled toward me out of nowhere, hitting me squarely.

I tried to dodge, but Hank deliberately blocked my way, even shoving me toward the incoming bottle.

“Ah!” Purple grape juice splattered all over me, soaking my white gown and leaving it stained and blotchy.

"Ha! Doesn’t she look like she’s on her period?"

"Fake marriage fraudster, don’t you have any shame? Get out of here!"

"If I were you, I’d just jump off a building and be done with it. The thicker the skin, the cheaper the person!"

Amid the harsh laughter, I struggled to wrench free from Hank’s grip. "Let me go! I need to change!"

Hank gave me a mocking glance. "Sorry, but even if you’re barely breathing, you’re going into the venue tonight. Mr. Ford said if you want the divorce, you’ll get through tonight’s event first. Otherwise, you’ll face the consequences."

I froze in place.

Of course. How could I forget? Julian was now the rising star of the Harbor City elite.

And me? A woman whose very identity couldn’t even see the light of day—what leverage did I have to fight him?

I let out a bitter laugh. "Fine. Let go of me. I’ll walk myself."

Hank had no intention of making things easy. Not only did he refuse to let go, but he also quickened his pace, deliberately dragging me along.

Stumbling and disheveled, I was hauled through the venue, drawing more jeers and mocking stares with every step.

By the time we reached Julian, Hank had transformed back into his obedient and unassuming self.

Julian’s cold gaze swept over me, taking in my ruined dress. "What happened?"

I glared at him, seething with anger. "Why bother pretending? Isn’t this exactly what you wanted to see?"

His brow furrowed, just as a slender, pale arm reached out from behind, curling around his own.

"Victoria, I’m so sorry! It was one of my fans who spilled juice on you."

Averil, dressed in a flawless white couture gown, clung tightly to Julian’s side.

"She probably got upset seeing you wear a dress so similar to mine. Surely you wouldn’t mind, right, Victoria?"

In the past, her deliberate provocations would have ignited my anger.

But now, all I wanted was to leave.

"Julian Ford, you wanted me here. I showed up. You set me up for humiliation, and I endured it. You’ve made your point. Can I go now?"

Though framed as a question, I had no intention of waiting for his response.

I turned away, desperate to escape.

"Don’t leave."

Someone stepped into my path, blocking my way.