Chapter 2

Summer froze on the spot.

In the past, whenever she threw around threats of breaking up or divorcing, I would panic and bend over backward to cater to her every whim.

She truly believed she had me wrapped around her little finger, that she could walk all over me forever.

But every man has his breaking point.

Threatening divorce over Julian again and again had worn me down to complete numbness.

Today, the fog finally cleared.

Even if she was the woman I once swore to grow old with, even if I had showered her with fortunes and proposed dozens of times before she finally said yes—none of it mattered. If she didn't love me, all my patience and sacrifices were completely in vain.

Her heart had only ever belonged to Julian.

Summer curled her lip in disgust. "Whatever! Just don't come crawling back on your knees begging me to take you back!"

She took two steps toward the door, then paused to throw another threat over her shoulder: "Even if you beg a hundred times, I won't forgive you!"

In the past, our fights always ended with me swallowing my pride and apologizing.

And even after I groveled to make things right, she would still berate me, calling me a spineless pushover.

Fine. Since she loved playing by the rules, I was going to follow them to the bitter end. I was done playing her games.

I stepped forward, pulled the door wide open, and looked her in the eye. "Take your boy toy and get out. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Summer kicked the door violently in frustration, grabbed Julian's arm, and stormed off.

Back at my desk, I called my private legal team right away.

I had built this company for Summer, but now that we were heading for a divorce, there was no way in hell I was letting my life's work stay in that parasite's hands.

I had my attorney draft an equity revocation agreement and sent it to Julian for an immediate signature.

A week passed. The only response I got was finding my number and my legal team blocked across every channel.

While I was strategizing my next move, one of Summer's close friends showed up at my office.

She claimed Summer hadn't eaten in days, that her chronic gastritis was flaring up, and told me to cook her favorite chicken soup and go grovel for forgiveness.

I knew this was Summer's doing.

It was her indirect way of demanding I bend the knee.

Years ago, Julian had accidentally leaked confidential trade secrets to a competitor. It cost the firm a tenfold breach-of-contract penalty, ruined a multi-year partnership, and nearly drove us into bankruptcy.

The moment I reprimanded him, Summer blew the roof off the house, calling me a greedy capitalist pig who only knew how to exploit the working class.

She stayed out of the house for days on end, making me believe our marriage was over.

And like clockwork, her friends would pop up, updating me on how "miserable" Summer was, pressuring me to rush over, comfort her, and apologize.

Even though I had done nothing wrong, I slowly began to question myself—was I really being too harsh?

Until the day Summer heard a few female colleagues chatting casually with Julian, and she used my name to blacklist them across the entire industry.

That was the day I finally saw her true colors.

It was never about fairness. It was about her blind, disgusting favoritism toward Julian.

This time, I wasn't going to swallow my dignity to keep the peace.

After kicking her friend out, I called Summer directly and demanded the return of my company.

Summer exploded on the other end: "Ethan, I gave you a way out! Can you stop throwing tantrums? Can't you just let this go?!"

It was crystal clear: she was dead set on handing my company to Julian.

I didn't waste another breath. I hung up and dialed my lead corporate attorney.

My lawyer gave me a single, pointed piece of advice:

"During a marriage, a third-party interloper cannot legally claim marital assets. We need solid proof that Julian is having an affair with your wife."

I needed undeniable evidence that Julian was breaking up my marriage.

Just as I was preparing to track Julian down, he resurfaced on his own.

My assistant informed me that Summer and her crew were throwing a massive celebration for Julian at an exclusive private lounge downtown.

When I rushed inside the VIP suite, the crowd was chanting, egging Summer and Julian on to kiss.

Julian was plastered against Summer's side, his eyes gleaming with smug victory.

Then, my gaze caught on his right hand.

On his index finger sat an antique gold-and-jade signet ring.

My breath caught in my throat.

That was my late grandmother's heirloom ring—a gift she had personally placed in Summer's hands for her birthday!

How dare she give an heirloom from my deceased grandmother to her lover?!

Grandma had adored Summer when she was alive. She always said how hard it must be for a girl from a small town to make it in the big city. Every weekend, she would cook a feast and wait by the door for us to come home from work.

Grandma used to hold both our hands, softly wishing for a great-grandchild. She worried Summer would suffer the way she did in her youth, and only wanted to help carry the burden for us.

Yet Summer rejected her warmth time and time again, using work as an excuse.

On her deathbed, Grandma pulled the ring from her own finger, placed it into Summer's palm, and whispered for her to take care of herself, no matter how busy work got.

The old woman loved her with all her heart.

And now, that priceless heirloom was being casually twirled around Julian's filthy finger.