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.

"Well, if it isn’t Victoria Dean, the great dancer herself. Since you’re here, why not give us a performance before you leave?"

I didn’t recognize the man in front of me, but it was obvious that he was just one of Julian’s pawns sent to humiliate me.

"Move," I said coldly, my expression hardened.

"Oh, look at that attitude." The man sized me up as if I were a product on display. "Still think you’re the rising star of the dance world? You do know, don’t you? You’ve already been blacklisted from the industry."

His words knocked the breath out of me, leaving me feeling like I’d plunged into icy water.

"Julian," I said, turning to him. "Is he telling the truth?"

Julian swirled the wine in his glass, his gaze distant and cold. "This is your punishment for what you did wrong."

I couldn’t hold back anymore and pressed him. "What did I do wrong? What could possibly justify you ruining my career and cutting off all my opportunities? Julian Ford, answer me!"

His lips tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "You know very well what you did."

Averil laughed softly. "Victoria, I’m performing tonight. Since your reputation hasn’t been great lately, why not dance too? There are plenty of influential people here. Maybe someone will take an interest in you."

I stared at Averil, my gaze unflinching until her smile faded.

"Julian," she said, shrinking behind him. "Victoria looks so scary."

Julian patted her hand, his eyes fixed on me. "Victoria, didn’t you want to cozy up to the right people? There are several entertainment executives here tonight. This is your chance. Why not make the most of it?"

I took in a sharp breath, unable to recognize the man standing before me.

I thought back to the year Julian first started his business. He was desperate for seed money, and without it, he would have missed a golden opportunity.

I had secretly taken a job dancing at a nightclub to make quick cash, but when Julian found out, he’d rather sell his blood than let me expose myself like that.

"You know how jealous I am," he had said back then. "I can’t stand the thought of any man looking at you, even for a second."

He had loved me so fiercely back then. We spent nights wrapped in each other’s arms in that tiny, run-down apartment, finding joy in the simplest things—even sharing a single apple felt like a feast.

And now? He seemed indifferent, almost eager, to push me toward other men.

My voice came out dry and hoarse, barely recognizable. "Alright, as you wish."

I pushed past the person blocking my way and headed toward a director I had once worked with.

"Look, Victoria’s still limping. Could she really be injured?"

"Ignore her. She’s faking it."

Julian’s voice, filled with arrogance and disdain, blended seamlessly with the mocking laughter around me, creating a suffocating web of humiliation.

I forced myself to reach the director, but before I could even greet him, he quickly stepped aside, avoiding me like the plague.

I froze, knowing there was no point in asking.

But I couldn’t accept it.

I had always been known as one of the most hardworking dancers in the industry. My low-key and professional demeanor had earned me a solid reputation.

So many people had once begged me for collaborations, making grand promises. I refused to believe that all my accomplishments could be completely erased by Julian’s words.

I dragged my injured leg forward, lowering myself to approach others I recognized in the crowd.

Yet every one of them avoided me as if I were poison. Some walked away the moment they spotted me, while others sided with Averil, mocking me openly.

I swallowed my pride and endured every insult, but by the time I had exhausted every option in the vast banquet hall, I finally realized just how pathetic I had become.

I was nothing more than a clown under the spotlight, put on display for everyone’s amusement.

They couldn’t resist stepping on me, mocking me.

And leading the charge was the man I had once believed I could entrust with my life.

Julian looked at me, his expression grim. "Victoria, haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough?"

Averil chimed in, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Julian, Victoria is my senior after all. Why not just let it go?"

He didn’t respond, but the tight furrow of his brows relaxed slightly.

"Let it go? No way!" someone shouted deliberately. "A dancer daring to put on airs—if word gets out, won’t it tarnish Mr. Ford’s reputation?"

"Exactly. Even if Mr. Ford doesn’t stoop to her level, she still needs to be taught a lesson. She has to learn what lines she shouldn’t cross."

"Victoria, drink this glass of liquor, and we’ll consider giving you another chance," one of Julian’s lackeys said, shoving a full glass of vodka into my hand. "What do you all think?"

The crowd erupted in enthusiastic agreement, their jeers echoing around me.

I turned to Julian and asked, "Is this what you want?"

There were three steps between Julian and me. He didn’t move forward, and I had no desire to close the gap.

I knew he was waiting for me to back down.

In every argument we’d ever had, I was always the first to surrender—not because he was right, but because I couldn’t forget the salvation he’d given me during my darkest times.

In front of him, I always felt a step lower, and I had been willing to tolerate his misplaced anger because of it.

Even when he flirted with Averil time and time again, even when he bought her a house to keep her hidden away, I pretended not to see.

But today, I couldn’t pretend anymore.

I asked again, “Forcing me to drink as an apology—is that what you want?”

Julian’s anger flashed across his face when I didn’t apologize as expected. "Yes, it is."

I shook my head with a bitter smile, staring at the vodka swirling in the glass.

He knew I was allergic to alcohol.

Yet, to defend Averil, he was willing to push me this far.

The boy who once couldn’t bear to see me get hurt had finally disappeared with time.

Crack.

It felt like I heard something shatter.

It was the ten years I had shared with Julian.

A phrase suddenly came to mind, “There’s no use crying over spilled milk.”

“Fine.”

I raised the glass and drank it all in one gulp, ignoring the hesitation flickering across Julian’s face.

The sharp burn of alcohol scorched my throat, making me cough until my face flushed red.

“Great drinking! Let’s pour her another glass!”

Someone tried to refill my glass, but Julian barked, “That’s enough,” shoving them aside.

Just as he took a step toward me, Averil latched onto his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"Julian," Averil said with a feigned tone of concern. "It seems like Victoria has shown enough sincerity. How about this? When I perform later, let her join me on stage."

She smiled innocently at me, pretending to consider my feelings.

"Of course, it might mean Victoria will have to take a supporting role as my backup dancer. What do you think?"

"Not happening."

The alcohol still burned in my stomach, and I could feel the heat rising rapidly under my skin.

"Averil, that stage is going to be live-streamed, isn’t it? Do you really want to use it to step on me? Or is it that you don’t have any confidence in your own abilities and can only rely on cheap tricks like this to feel relevant?"

After swallowing my pride for so long, I finally threw all caution aside, releasing my pent-up anger in one blow.

Averil clung to Julian’s arm, swaying it back and forth. "Julian, explain this to her. Victoria must be misunderstanding me."

Julian’s face darkened, and his voice carried nothing but disappointment.

"Victoria, if you still want to dance, you’ll get up on that stage, whether you want to or not. With your position, you should feel lucky to be dancing alongside Averil."

His words were a final ultimatum, shattering the last shred of affection I had left for him.

"Julian Ford, what am I to you? A toy? A source of amusement? Or just a prop to make you and Averil look good together? This game of pleasing you—I’m done playing."

I pulled off my wedding ring and hurled it back at him, watching as his face turned an ugly shade of blue.

Then, in front of the stunned crowd, I took the divorce papers out of my handbag and scattered them at Julian’s feet.

"Julian Ford, since you’re so eager to distance yourself from me, fine. As you wish. Sign these papers, and we’re done. From now on, we’re strangers. I wish you and Averil a lifetime together, and don’t ever show your faces in front of me again!"