Chapter 3

By that afternoon, with Marcus's help, I rented an apartment.

I didn't care about the location or the layout. I just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

It was 8:00 PM when I got back to the Vance estate.

The exhaustion of pregnancy made my back ache intensely, but I still cooked one last dinner.

All Julian's favorites.

For ten years, I knew his tastes better than my own.

Whatever the ending, I wanted a clean break for the sake of our fifteen-year history.

But Julian didn't return until 1:00 AM.

He smelled of the perfume Seraphina loved, with a glaring lipstick stain on his collar.

I watched him loosen his tie. His ring finger was bare.

At some point, he had stopped wearing his wedding band.

He saw the cold, untouched food on the table, and his brow furrowed. There was no warmth in his eyes, only deep annoyance.

"Playing the victim again? Do you really think this will make me back down?"

He tossed his coat onto the sofa and headed upstairs without a second glance.

"Julian," I called out, my voice surprisingly calm. "The divorce papers are on the table. Sign them."

He froze, then turned around, his eyes dripping with sarcasm.

"All because of an expired agreement? Luna, since when did you become so unreasonable?"

"Your father forced me into this marriage by using a life-saving favor. I had no choice."

"Seraphina has a weak heart. I just wanted to give her some security, a gesture of goodwill!"

Security? A gesture?

How laughable. Two simple phrases dismissed all my pain.

I finally understood. For ten years, the obstacle between us wasn't anything elsehe simply never loved me.

Fifteen years ago, on a rainy night, his half-brothers were hunting him down. I hid him in my family's pool house for three days.

I secretly brought him food and medicine, nearly getting beaten to death myself by those thugs.

He had held my hand and promised, "Luna, once I take control of the Vance family, I will marry you in style."

He did take control, using ruthless corporate means.

But he "married" me with nothing but a cold, calculating prenuptial agreement.

"Julian," I said, holding my belly as I stood up. "So you do remember that you owe me your life."

He paused, then sneered.

"Oh, so you want to settle the score now? Fine. Name your price. How much do you want?"

Name your price.

I laughed bitterly. The last warm corner of my heart turned to ash.

"No need, Julian. I'm truly done with this marriage."

"I want to see the signed divorce papers on the living room table by 9:00 AM tomorrow."

I squeezed out every ounce of strength to keep my voice steady. Without waiting for his reaction, I turned and went upstairs.

Behind me, the sound of glass shattering echoed, followed by his furious, out-of-control roar: "Luna! You'd better not regret this!"

Regret?

My only regret was opening that pool house door fifteen years ago.