Chapter 2

"Send over that haute couture necklace. Chloe just got fired, she's really upset, she needs something to distract her."

"I was there for you during your severe depression. Are you really going to fuss over a necklace?"

Ethan's SnapChat lit up on the screen.

I stared at those words, my fingertips trembling.

He always did this, skillfully rewriting history, portraying himself as a long-suffering savior.

But he forgot why I had severe depression in the first place.

It was to secure investments for him.

I drank with investors until my stomach bled, ending up in the hospital for half a month.

It was to cover the financial collapse caused by his poor decisions.

I sold the heirlooms my grandmother left me, and for six months straight, I slept only three hours a day.

Now, he was taking the money I risked my life for, to comfort another woman.

I didn't reply, slamming my foot on the gas.

I turned the car around and drove towards the villa, our dream home we'd just gotten the keys to last month.

The moment I pushed open the door, the villa was brightly lit.

I froze in the entryway, my blood turning to ice instantly.

Chloe was wearing the wedding dress I'd finalized after thirteen rounds of revisions.

She stood in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling mirror.

Ethan was half-kneeling on the floor, carefully adjusting the hem of her skirt.

Hearing the door open, Chloe's eyes immediately welled up:

"Scarlett, please don't get the wrong idea."

"I was so upset about getting fired today. Ethan said this wedding dress was beautiful and told me to try it on to feel a moment of happiness…"

"I'll take it off right away."

She said she'd take it off, but her hands clutched the skirt tightly.

A tear splashed onto Ethan's hand.

Ethan immediately stood up, shielding her behind him:

"Scarlett, what are you doing back? Who are you glaring at with that sour face?"

"Chloe is already feeling down. Can you stop being so harsh and unforgiving?"

I looked at my cherished wedding dress, being trampled under her feet.

My voice was cold, like ice: "Take it off."

"Are you insane?!"

Ethan roared, lunging forward and grabbing my wrist.

"It's just a dress!"

"When we were at our lowest during the startup, I lived with you in a leaky basement and ate moldy bread."

"Now you're upset about lending a wedding dress to Chloe? Why are you suddenly so materialistic?"

Materialistic, huh? What a joke.