Chapter 1

Lily, my husband Ethan's secretary, sent me a photo.

In the photo, my husband was sound asleep, covered with my coat.

The caption read: "Emma, Ethan had too much to drink. He's staying at my place tonight."

I stared at the photo for three seconds, then smiled.

With a light tap of my finger, I screenshotted the photo and chat record, then sent them both to the company's group chat of nearly a thousand employees.

"Congratulations to Lily on her successful promotion to CEO's wife."

Send. Power off. All in one smooth motion.

Two days later when I turned my phone back on, hundreds of missed calls nearly crashed it.

In the photo, my husband Ethan was sleeping peacefully, his profile pressed against the pure white hotel pillow.

I stared at that coat.

That morning before leaving, I'd personally helped Ethan put it on.

I smiled.

I didn't reply, just took a screenshot.

Then sent it to the company's thousand-person work group.

"Congratulations to Lily on her successful promotion to CEO's wife."

Then I turned off my phone.

The world went quiet.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the living room, the city lights merged into a silent ocean.

I walked to the wine cabinet and poured myself a glass of whiskey.

Today was our fifth wedding anniversary.

On the table sat the custom cake I'd picked up that afternoon.

Ethan had called in the afternoon, saying he had an important business dinner he couldn't skip.

He said he'd make it up to me when he got back later.

So this was his idea of "important business."

This was how he planned to "make it up to me."

I carried my glass and walked over to the cake.

The black swan held its head high, graceful and proud.

I reached out a finger and gave it a gentle push.

The swan toppled over, falling into the soft cream, its neck broken.

What a shame.

I drained my glass in one gulp, the burning liquid searing my throat.

Perfect.

This relationship that had lasted eight years, from campus to wedding dress, from nothing to company IPO.

It was time to end it.

I walked into the dressing room and pulled out the largest suitcase.

Started packing.

Mine, I'd take everything.

His, I'd leave nothing.

Including those matching couple outfits we'd bought together, the expensive jewelry he'd given me, all those mementos symbolizing every bit of our past.

One by one, I took them out and threw them into the trash bags beside me.

Like I was doing a complete decluttering.

Throughout this process, my heart remained completely calm.

No tears, no angry screaming.

Like a surgeon performing an incredibly composed operation on herself.

Cutting away the necrotic tissue.

Though it would hurt, it had to be done.

Two hours later, the suitcase was full.

Three large trash bags were piled beside it.

The 24-hour moving company I'd booked arrived promptly at 3 AM.

The workers silently and efficiently loaded my things onto the truck.

I took one last look at this home I'd personally decorated.

On the wall hung our wedding photo.

In it, I was smiling blissfully.

In it, Ethan's eyes were so tender they could drip water.

I walked over and took the photo down.

Then, I let go.

Crash.

The glass frame shattered across the floor.

I said to the movers: "Let's go."

The vehicle pulled out of the complex and merged into the city traffic.

I didn't look back.

My new place was an apartment I'd bought several months ago, keeping it empty all this time.

I'd told myself a woman always needs to leave herself an exit.

Now it seemed that decision was incredibly correct.

By the time I'd settled my luggage, dawn was breaking.

I took a hot shower, changed into clean pajamas, and lay down on the unfamiliar bed.

Not the slightest bit sleepy.

My mind began replaying the entire incident.

Lily.

Ethan's secretary, hired a year and a half ago.

Young, beautiful, elite university graduate, outstanding abilities.

That was how everyone in the company described her.

When I'd come to the office to bring Ethan lunch, she'd eagerly approach me, sweetly calling me "Emma."

She'd thoughtfully remember my preferences, brewing my favorite tea before I arrived.

She'd subtly display her work chemistry with Ethan in front of me.

For instance, Ethan would give her a look and she'd know which document to hand him.

Before Ethan finished a sentence, she could immediately complete it.

She'd tell me in a joking tone: "Emma, sometimes I feel like I understand Ethan even better than you do."

Back then, I'd just smile it off.

I figured a man's capable work assistant and his life's soulmate were two different tracks.

They didn't conflict.

Now it seemed I'd been naive.

Or rather, I'd been too confident.

So confident I'd overlooked all those telltale signs.

Like how Ethan kept coming home later and later.

Like the occasional unfamiliar perfume scent on him.

Like how he started reflexively countering some of my decisions using Lily's phrasing.

"Emma, your idea is too idealistic. Lily's proposal would be more practical."

"Lily said this project is too risky, we should wait and see."

Lily, Lily, Lily.

Her name appeared with increasing frequency.

And I'd actually kept treating it as normal "work communication."

Until that photo, like a sharp knife, punctured all the fake peace.

I closed my eyes, that photo surfacing in my mind again.

Ethan's sleeping face, my coat, and Lily's provocative caption.

Why did she dare do this?

She was certain I wouldn't make a scene.

She was certain I'd choose to swallow my grievances for the sake of Ethan's career, for the company's stability.

She was certain I'd find her privately, or find Ethan, cry, make a fuss, then accept an explanation of "just a mistake all men make."

Then she could continue lurking by Ethan's side as the victor, until she completely replaced me.

Unfortunately, she miscalculated.

I, Emma, never make losing deals.

Since you want war, I'll give you the grandest spectacle.

Let nearly a thousand people in the entire company witness your love.

I don't know when I finally fell asleep.

I only know this sleep was exceptionally deep.

No dreams.