Chapter 3

Julian was very pleased with my new submission.

"That's more like it. Chloe and I are just childhood friends. If I loved her, I would have married her long ago. Stop overthinking things."

Overthinking? What was the point of thinking at all? Everything was already ruined.

I told myself to endure just a little longer.

For my dad’s sake, I had to hold on.

If our baby were still here, maybe I wouldn't have been so resolute about leaving.

Julian bought the house, so I had no intention of clinging to it.

I packed my bags and moved into my apartment.

I didn't expect Julian to show up at my door that very night.

When I opened the door and saw him, I tried to slam it shut.

Julian forced his way in with his shoulder.

"Are you out of your mind? Why does your divorce agreement include asset division?!"

Hearing that, I laughed.

"Why? We're getting a divorce. Why shouldn't our assets be divided?"

"You actually want to divorce me?!"

"You actually thought I didn't?" I looked at him mockingly.

In this relationship, I had always been the one bending over backward.

He thought taking me to the courthouse would scare me into submission.

Now that he had read the fine print, panic finally set in.

In the split second our eyes met, I saw pure terror in Julian’s gaze.

"Julian, I'm only taking what's legally mine. I didn't drag your dirty laundry into court. You shouldn't come crawling back here—it looks pathetic, you know?"

"Fine... fine!"

Julian gritted his teeth. "Aren't you afraid I'll go straight to your father right now?"

He stood tall, a smug sneer spreading across his face.

"Go ahead."

In fact, I wished he would go find my dad.

A piece of trash like him didn't deserve to breathe anyway.

My response left Julian dumbfounded. "Are you so blinded by jealousy that you don't even care about your own dad anymore?!"

To this day, he still refused to believe my dad was dead.

On the day my dad died, Chloe leaked private photos of me all over Twitter.

She posted: "This is the homewrecker who stole my man and rigged the competition against me."

Clueless netizens swarmed my accounts, branding me a side chick who deserved to rot in hell.

My dad overheard other patients gossiping about it in the hospital, and that was how he found out about the internet witch-hunt.

He had a sudden heart attack from the shock.

By the time I rushed to the hospital, it was too late.

My dad held my hand with his last ounce of strength and said, "Sweetheart, get a divorce... Dad knows how much you've suffered."

He believed in me.

He knew his daughter would never do something so vile, but I never got the chance to prove it to the world before he closed his eyes.

Even after he died, trolls posted online saying he deserved it.

It was sickeningly ironic. Julian, my own husband, was still using my father to threaten me.

Yet total strangers on the internet knew my dad had passed away.

Wasn't that hilarious?

He never gave a damn about me—or my dad.

After handling the funeral arrangements, I reported Chloe’s account.

I submitted all the original design drafts and evidence to the competition committee.

Eventually, the official committee released a public statement:

[Riley Adams earned her finalist spot entirely on merit. Anyone questioning this is welcome to review the records at our headquarters.]

Right after, I posted my marriage certificate with Julian:

[Excuse me, which man did I supposedly steal from you? Is it this one?]