Wendy was also staring at him. Her tone was light but firm as she repeated, "Let's get a divorce, Stanley. Do you like your birthday gift?"

Stanley didn't bat an eyelid. "You're asking for a divorce just because I didn't celebrate my birthday with you?"

"Jessica has returned, hasn't she?"

At the mention of Jessica, Stanley's thin lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Are you bothered by Jessica?"

Stanley, known as the youngest business prodigy alive, exuded an aura of power, wealth, and status. As he approached, Wendy instinctively stepped back, her slender back pressing against the cold wall.

Her vision went dark as Stanley leaned in. He propped one hand against the wall beside her, trapping her between his firm chest and the wall.

Looking down at her with his deep, striking eyes, Stanley sneered.

"Everyone in Hovendale knows Jessica was the one I intended to marry. Weren't you aware when you schemed to replace her and became Mrs. Hawk? You didn’t mind then, so why act all self-righteous now?"

Wendy's face turned pale.

Yes, Stanley had wanted to marry Jessica. If not for the accident that left him in a coma, how could Wendy have married him?

She would never forget the day he woke up. The disappointment and coldness in his eyes when he saw her was devastating.

Since then, they had lived in separate rooms. He never touched her.

He loved Jessica.

Wendy had always known this, but...

She gazed deeply at Stanley's face, the grown man overlapping in her mind with the young boy from years ago.

'Stanley, do you really not remember me?'

It turned out she had been standing in place all along, waiting for someone that no longer existed.

It was enough.

These three years were just her one-sided effort to cherish him.

Suppressing the ache in her heart, Wendy said softly, "Stanley, let's end this loveless marriage."

Stanley's brows arched sharply, and his deep, magnetic voice could be heard. "Loveless?"

He raised his hand, gripping her delicate chin, his thumb brushing against her crimson lips in a provocative motion. "Is that why? Are you asking for a divorce because of that? Do you want it that badly?"

Wendy's delicate face flushed red like a ripe berry, vibrant and tempting.

That wasn’t what she meant!

Yet his thumb lingered on her lips, pressing and toying with them. She hadn't expected such a composed and distinguished man to have such a teasing, roguish side.

Stanley was seeing Wendy up close for the first time. She usually dressed in monotonous black-and-white outfits, paired with oversized black-framed glasses, presenting herself like an old maid.

But up close, he realized her face was barely the size of his palm, and her delicate features exuded a quiet elegance beneath those glasses. Her dark pupils were stunningly beautiful.

Her lips were soft, their plush surface springing back with a subtle elasticity wherever his thumb pressed.

It stirred an unbidden thought.

Stanley’s gaze darkened. "I didn’t expect you to be so eager. You’re that desperate for a man, aren’t you?"

Slap!

Wendy raised her hand and slapped him across the face. Stanley’s handsome face tilted to the side from the impact.

Wendy’s fingers trembled with anger. She realized that loving someone too humbly only led to her dignity being trampled on. He had actually humiliated her.

Furious, she declared, "I know you’ve never stopped thinking about Jessica. Fine, I’ll fulfill your wishes and return Mrs. Hawk’s title to her!"

Stanley’s face instantly darkened, frosty and sullen. A man of his stature had never been slapped before—never!

His sharp gaze locked onto her. "Wendy, you married me when it was convenient for you, and now you want a divorce just because you feel like it. What do you take me for?"

Wendy let out a soft chuckle. "A plaything."

"What?"

Stanley’s expression stiffened.

Wendy forced herself to endure the pain in her heart and said what she knew would hurt him. "You’re just a toy I took from Jessica. I’m done playing, so I’m tossing you aside."

Stanley’s expression turned grim, his mood darkening to the point where it could drip with venom. "Fine! Wendy, you’re something else. Let’s divorce, but don’t come crying back to me, begging for reconciliation!"

He stormed upstairs, slamming the study door shut with a deafening bang.

Wendy felt as though all the strength had been drained from her body. Slowly, she slid down the wall, crouching on the carpet. Hugging her knees, she whispered to herself, 'Stanley, I won’t love you anymore.'

-

The next morning, Mathilda entered the study.

Stanley was seated at his desk, reviewing documents. He was a notorious workaholic.

"Sir," Mathilda greeted Stanley cautiously.

Stanley didn’t even look up. His icy aura hinted at his foul mood. It felt cold being around him.

Mathilda carefully placed a cup of coffee by his hand. "Sir, this coffee was made by Mrs. Hawk."

Stanley’s pen paused mid-air, his cold expression softening slightly.

Was she trying to make amends?

Truth be told, Wendy was an excellent wife. She cooked to his preferences, hand-washed his clothes, and meticulously managed his daily needs.

Stanley picked up the coffee, taking a sip. It was her coffee—the taste he liked.

But he was still angry.

She had slapped him last night, and he wasn’t about to let that go easily. A single cup of coffee wouldn’t suffice as an apology.

"Did she admit she was wrong?" Stanley asked.

Mathilda glanced at him hesitantly. "Sir, Mrs. Hawk has left."

Stanley froze, looking up at Mathilda.

She handed him a piece of paper. "Sir, Mrs. Hawk left this with her suitcase and asked me to give this to you before she left."

Stanley unfolded the paper. The words 'Divorce Agreement' caught his eye.

His expression darkened. He thought she was trying to reconcile.

Mathilda added cautiously, "Sir, Mrs. Hawk asked you to finish the coffee before signing the divorce papers."

Stanley glared at the coffee. "Throw it out! All of it!"

'Sir, you seemed to like the coffee just fine a moment ago. Why don't you anymore?' Mathilda thought to herself.

Without saying another word, she quickly left with the coffee.

Stanley’s face was a thunderstorm, his mood in turmoil. He skimmed through the divorce agreement. She wasn’t asking for a penny—she intended to leave with nothing.

Stanley scoffed coldly. It was bold of her to act like she didn’t need his money. How would a country girl like her survive without it?

It was then that his gaze landed on the reason for divorce, handwritten by Wendy herself.

"Due to my husband’s sexual dysfunction, he cannot fulfill his marital obligations."

Stanley froze, his handsome face turning completely dark.

'That damned woman!'

He grabbed his phone and dialed Wendy’s number.

The line connected, and Wendy’s voice came through clearly. "Hello?"

Stanley's thin lips curved into a frosty arc. "Wendy, get back here immediately!"

Wendy chuckled. "You expect me to come back just because you said so? We're divorced, Stanley. I'm not going to continue indulging you!"

Stanley clenched his jaw. "I'll give you a chance to rewrite the reason for divorce!"

Wendy's tone grew more playful.

"Did I write anything wrong? Stanley, it's been six months since you woke up, hasn't it? Yet, in these six months, you haven't even held my hand. You were in a coma for three years, and although you're physically healthy now, I have legitimate reasons to believe you've developed functional problems. You're not potent anymore! Better hurry to find an experienced naturopath. As our parting gift, I wish you an early recovery of your manhood!"

Stanley was rendered speechless. The veins on his forehead were visibly twitching.

This woman was out of control.

"Wendy, I'll make you regret this! You'll know what I'm capable of sooner or later!"

"Sorry, but you'll never get the chance!"

"Wendy!"

The call abruptly ended with two cold beeps. He hadn't even had time to explode in anger before hearing the disconnected tone.

'Wendy…!'

-

Wendy had already arrived at her best friend Cecelia Sunder's apartment. After she hung up the phone, Cecelia burst out laughing and gave her a big thumbs-up.

"Wendy, that was amazing! Stanley must be so furious, he's spitting blood right now."

Wendy reflected that she had been too humble in the past, which had allowed him to act superior to her for so long.

'Love yourself first. A woman must always prioritize self-love.'

"Three years ago, when Jessica learned Stanley went into a coma after the car accident, she immediately ran away. Now that he's awake, he's crawling back to her? What a joke! You're better off without a man like that," Cecelia commented.

Wendy unwrapped a candy and popped it into her mouth. The sweetness seemed to mask the bitterness in her heart. "That's how you tell if you're loved or not, Cecelia."

Those who were loved were fearless. Those who weren't lived in constant insecurity.

Cecelia noticed Wendy had already gone through a pile of candies. She pulled Wendy to her feet.

"Wendy, cheer up! When you give up one tree, you'll discover an entire forest waiting for you. Tonight, I'm booking eight male hosts to celebrate you becoming single!"

Wendy covered her forehead and laughed.

Cecelia suddenly snatched Wendy's black-rimmed glasses off her face, tossing them into the trash.

Wendy tried to retrieve them. "My glasses—"

Cecelia stopped her. "Wendy, you've been in academic research for too long, and you've gotten used to wearing these glasses. But you should take a page out of Jessica's book and doll yourself up."

Wendy thought about how her parents had always told her she was an ugly duckling while Jessica was a swan. It wasn't just her parents—Stanley must have thought the same. In his eyes, she was just an ugly duckling too.

Cecelia dragged Wendy to the door. "Come on, we're going shopping! Hair, nails, clothes—everything! I want Stanley and everyone else to see how stunning you can be!"

As they walked out, Cecelia suddenly remembered something. "Oh, Wendy, are you really not taking any money from Stanley after the divorce?"

"I have my own money," Wendy replied.

"Letting Jessica spend Stanley's money instead? Jessica says thank you!" Cecelia teased.

Wendy didn't know what to say to that.

"What about the card Stanley gave you?" Cecelia pressed.

Stanley was always generous and had given Wendy a premium black card. However, she had never used it.

Wendy pulled the black card out of her purse and winked playfully. "Today, I'll splurge—and let Stanley foot the bill."

-

That evening, at 1996 Bar.

1996 Bar was Hovendale's playground for the rich, where young heirs and the city's elites spent extravagantly. The music was never-ending, and the dance floor was wild.

In a luxurious and dimly lit booth, Stanley sat in the center of a leather sofa. Tonight, he had on a black shirt paired with black trousers. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms and a steel watch worth millions. His aristocratic, striking features made him the center of attention, drawing glances from countless women in the bar.

Beside him was his close friend, Benny Gondale—the heir of the Gondale family—and several other young elites.

Benny laughed. "Stanley, are you serious? Wendy wants a divorce?"

The others laughed along. "Everyone knows Wendy loves Stanley to the bone. When he was in a coma, she insisted on marrying him. There's no way she'd actually go through with a divorce."

"Let's bet on it. How long do you think Wendy can hold out before begging Stanley to take her back?"

Benny smirked. "I bet she can't even make it through tonight. She's probably already sent Stanley a message."

Stanley's chiseled features remained cold and sharp, his mood clearly sour. He pulled out his phone and opened WhatsApp to check their chat history.

The last message from Wendy was from last night. She had sent a photo of the broth with the caption, [Honey, even though your bone density is back to normal, you should still drink this broth regularly. Don't come home too late!]

As he scrolled up, he saw countless similar messages—all from Wendy. She messaged him every day.

He had never replied. Not once.

Today, the chat was silent.

Stanley felt a vague sense of irritation.

Ding!

A notification popped up.

"See? I told you—Wendy messaged you!" Benny immediately exclaimed.

Ding, ding, ding!

Several more notifications followed in quick succession.

The group burst out laughing. "We knew it—Wendy couldn't hold out! But we didn't expect her to cave so fast."

"Stanley, open them. Let's see how Wendy is begging you to reconcile," Benny urged.

Stanley's sharp eyebrows lifted slightly. Did she really send a message? If she regretted it so quickly, why did she make such a fuss this morning?

He tapped on the notifications, only to freeze.

Benny leaned over and read aloud, "Dear VVIP customer, your card ending in 0975 has been charged 800 dollars at Dazzling Nail Salon."

The group collectively frowned.

Stanley scrolled further.

2,000 dollars at Artistry Hair Salon.

86,000 dollars at Chanel.

240,000 dollars at Louis Vuitton.

There were no messages about reconciliations, only transaction notifications. The group fell silent, feeling like Wendy had slapped them all hard in the face.

Stanley's expression darkened and he slammed his phone onto the table. He didn't care how much money Wendy spent. What bothered him was that she had gone on a shopping spree right after their divorce. This woman was something else!

The once submissive Wendy, who had clung to him for three years, now seemed to have grown fangs.

"Stanley, what's Wendy up to? She's gone to do her nails and hair, and buy clothes. Is she trying to imitate Jessica?" Benny commented.

"Jessica is Hovendale's Red Rose. Wendy's just a country bumpkin. No matter how hard she tries, she'll only be a pale imitation."

"A swan is a swan. An ugly duckling will always be an ugly duckling."

Everyone laughed at Wendy.

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the bar. All eyes turned toward the entrance.

Someone gasped, "Look—an angel just walked in!"

Wendy arrived.

After finishing their shopping spree at the mall, Cecelia brought Wendy directly to 1996 Bar. Tonight, she was determined to throw a celebration party for Wendy.

Wendy hadn't expected to run into Stanley and his friends here, but she could hear their mocking remarks.

She recognized Benny and the others in the luxury booth. They were part of Stanley's circle, and Benny was Stanley's close friend. Back when Stanley had a whirlwind romance with Jessica, they were all fans of Jessica, with Benny even regarding her as Stanley's future wife.

Over the past three years, Wendy had never truly integrated into their group. None of them ever accepted her.

The labels they plastered on her were always the same: desperate substitute bride, ugly duckling, country bumpkin, and the like.

When a man didn't love you, his friends wouldn't respect you either.

Cecelia, already fuming, rolled up her sleeves, ready to confront them. "I'm going to tear their mouths apart!"

Wendy quickly held her back. "Cecelia, forget it! We're divorced now—there's no need to stoop to their level."

Seeing Wendy's calm and indifferent demeanor, Cecelia reluctantly held back her temper. Then, as more and more people began to notice Wendy and exclaimed, calling her an angel, Cecelia's mood improved. "Wendy, let's go. Time to party."

Cecelia dragged Wendy to another luxury booth and waved her hand grandly. "Bring all the male hosts from 1996 Bar over here!"

Meanwhile, back at Stanley's booth, Benny and the others continued to mock Wendy. That was when they felt an icy and sharp gaze fall upon them.

Looking up, they saw Stanley lazily lifting his cold gaze to glare at them.

His expression was chilling, displeased, and full of warning. The men stopped laughing, and they immediately shut up, not daring to speak ill of Wendy again.

Benny glanced at Stanley. Although Stanley had never paid much attention to Wendy, she had, after all, cared for him diligently for three years. It seemed Stanley still held some regard for that.

At that moment, the commotion around them grew louder.

"Wow, what a stunning angel!"

'An angel? Where?'

Following the direction of the crowd's gaze, Benny looked ahead and was instantly dumbfounded. "Holy crap, she really is an angel."

The other rich young men were equally astonished, their eyes glued to her. "When did such a stunning angel begin existing in Hovendale? How have we never seen her before?"

Benny nudged Stanley. "Stanley, look! It's an angel."

Stanley, who had no shortage of women around him, wasn't interested. He had seen all kinds of women—slim, curvy, and everything in between. He had no intention of looking, but Wendy's booth happened to be right across from theirs.

When Stanley glanced over, he saw Wendy.

Without her black-framed glasses and her usual dull, conservative attire, she revealed a delicate, fair face, her naturally exquisite bone structure, and ethereal beauty shining through. Her long, glossy black hair flowed gracefully over her shoulders, making her look like a true angel.

Stanley paused, staring at her for two full seconds.

Benny was excited. "Stanley, what do you think of the angel?"

Another rich young man chimed in, "Mr. Hawk probably doesn't think much of her. Mr. Hawk likes delicate beauties like Jessica, not cold, aloof angels."

"But look at her legs! Her legs are just as stunning as Jessica's."

Wendy was wearing a short, Chanel-inspired dress, shedding her usual conservative style and showing her legs for the first time.

Her legs were perfectly proportioned—slender yet shapely. Those were legs that could make any man's imagination run wild.

She looked just as good as Jessica.

Stanley stared at the 'angel' for a moment and couldn't shake the feeling that she looked familiar, as if he'd seen her somewhere before.

Just then, a line of male hosts walked in, all tall and handsome, forming a row in front of Wendy.

Cecelia grinned. "Wendy, make your pick of eight."

Deciding to indulge herself to celebrate her escape from the misery of marriage, Wendy smiled and pointed. "You, you, you... All of you stay."

Benny counted aloud. "One, two, three... Eight! She actually picked eight male hosts at once!"

The other rich young men laughed. "Why waste money? If the angel just asked, we'd serve her for free."

Everyone chuckled.

Ding!

Stanley's phone buzzed again with a notification. Picking it up, he glanced at it to see what Wendy had spent on this time.

[Dear VVIP user, your card ending in 0975 has been charged 500,000 dollars at 1996 Bar for eight male hosts.]

Stanley froze, staring at the words before raising his eyes toward the so-called angel across the room.

If that wasn't Wendy, who else could it be?

Stanley was speechless.

Eight male hosts surrounded Wendy, pouring drinks into her glass. "Let's play a drinking game."

Cecelia clapped happily. "Yes, let's play!"

In the first round, Wendy lost. One of the male hosts handed her a drink. "Please drink some."

Wendy took a sip, but the other male hosts protested. "Why drink his and not ours? We want to serve you too."

Surrounded by all the attention, Wendy found it impossible to keep up, overwhelmed by the 'sweet burden' of their pampering.

Stanley's eyes narrowed, his handsome features tensing into a grim expression. Without a word, he stood up and strode out.

Benny was taken aback. "Stanley? Where are you going?"

Wendy was about to take another drink when a large, strong hand reached over, grabbed her slender wrist, and pulled her up like she was a rag doll. Startled, she looked up to see Stanley's handsome face suddenly looming over her.

She froze for a second, then quickly tried to break free. "Stanley, let go of me!"

His face darkened and he dragged her away without a word.

Cecelia stood up. "Stanley, what are you doing? Let Wendy go!"

Benny and the others were completely stunned. They stared, dumbfounded, as if they had just misheard something.

"Wendy?"

"That angel is Wendy?"

"Is this the same ugly duckling Wendy we know?"

"She's actually stunning!"

As they watched Stanley drag Wendy away, her cold, ethereal beauty still lingering in their vision, Benny muttered, "Damn, Wendy, who no longer chases after Stanley, just turned into a full-blown angel!"

-

Stanley's grip was firm and unrelenting, like an iron shackle. No matter how much Wendy struggled, she couldn't break free.

His strides were long, forcing Wendy to stumble as she tried to keep up. "Stanley, let go of me!"

Finally, Stanley stopped and flung her backward. Wendy's slender frame collided against the cold wall behind her.

Before she could regain her balance, Stanley's tall figure loomed over her, pressing her against the wall.

His eyes burned with fury. "Wendy, do you think I'm dead, playing around like this?"