Chapter 1
After my boyfriend died saving the billionaire CEO Tristan Fu, my severe depression relapsed.
To fulfill the promise I made to him—to stay alive and live well—
I accepted Tristan's marriage proposal.
After our wedding, he tried to mimic my late boyfriend, watching over me around the clock.
In my dazed state of mind, I often fooled myself into thinking I was living happily with my boyfriend again.
Three years into our marriage, Tristan's first love, Kelly Zhang, returned.
He spent hundreds of millions backing Kelly, desperate to turn her into a massive superstar.
Anyone who dared to upset Kelly was swiftly erased from New York's elite circles.
He went so far as to protect Kelly's pristine public image that when the paparazzi caught a glimpse of me,
he didn't blink an eye as he declared to the cameras, "Yulia is just a personal assistant I handpicked for Kelly."
Overnight, I became the laughingstock of the city.
Everyone mocked me for clinging to the Fu family so desperately that I was willing to swallow my pride and work as Kelly's humble assistant.
I said nothing.
Because in that moment, I realized with absolute clarity: Tristan was not the man who loved me.
Since that was the case, it was finally time for me to walk away.
I went straight to Tristan's mother.
"Are you certain you want a divorce?"
Mrs. Fu took an elegant sip of her coffee and set the porcelain cup down. Her haughty gaze swept over me from head to toe,
dripping with sheer disdain.
She had always looked down on me. She still did.
"Yes."
My voice was calm and steady. "I remember you telling me that if I ever agreed to a divorce, you had the power to make it happen quietly. I turned you down back then, but now I've changed my mind. I want to finalize this divorce from Tristan as soon as possible. How long will it take?"
"A month," she answered indifferently, looking as if she wanted to say more.
I cut in before she could speak. "Don't worry. Once I sign those papers, I won't take a single cent from your family."
A flicker of surprise broke through Mrs. Fu's icy composure.
Without another word, I stood up and walked out.
The moment my heels stepped beyond the grand gates of the Fu estate, a wave of profound relief washed over my chest for the first time in three years.
I tapped my phone screen to wake it. A bright, smiling boy filled the lock screen.
Julian, if only you hadn't jumped into that water to save him back then...
If you hadn't, wouldn't we be the ones living happily together right now?
Still, it's okay. Everything is finally coming to an end.
Bitterness and heartache tightened in my throat. I drew in a deep, steadying breath, shut off the screen,
and strode forward.
Just a few steps down the private driveway, the sharp screech of tires broke the silence. I looked up to see a sleek black Maybach pulling smoothly up to the estate gates.
The passenger door clicked open, and a pair of designer heels stepped out.
It was Kelly.
She gracefully rounded the hood and looped her arm intimately through Tristan's.
The two of them walked side by side, sharing an easy, laughing conversation.
My entire body froze. The blood in my veins turned to ice.
In truth...
Right after Julian died saving him, Tristan had treated me with absolute devotion.
He used to stay by my side every waking hour, doing everything he could to coax a smile onto my face whenever grief consumed me.
To protect me, he had even defied his family's orders, brushed aside everyone's objections, and married an ordinary woman who offered zero status or wealth to his empire.
On my birthday, he lit up the entire city skyline with private fireworks.
That night, beneath the canopy of blazing colors, standing at the pinnacle of the city, he held out a diamond ring and asked me to marry him.
He had said, "Yulia, I know losing Julian shattered you. From now on, let me take his place and care for you. Just give me a chance, Yulia."
When he was trying to love me, even the slightest furrow of my brow made him panic.
Yet somehow, without my noticing, everything changed.
His demeanor toward me grew colder by the day. Financial markets, investments, and portfolio gains were the only things he ever talked about, topics I knew nothing about.
He began to look down on my simple hobbies with visible irritation. He would scoff, "Yulia, you're Mrs. Fu now. Stop obsessing over these cheap, lowbrow interests. As your husband, watching you indulge in them makes me feel cheapened."
When those words left his mouth that afternoon, I froze for a long, long time.
I failed to keep the promise I made to Julian—never to lose myself in any relationship. Desperate to close the growing chasm between us,
I began clumsily trying to please him.
I memorized his tastes, studied obscure, dense business texts just to have something in common with him.
Yet every time I tried to start a conversation,
he would cut me off with blatant impatience.
He would say, "Yulia, some things are bred in the bone. Either you belong in this world or you don't. This clumsy imitation only makes you look pathetic."
To this day, I could never forget the dead look in his eyes when he said that.
Nor could I forget the sharp, tearing agony in my chest.
Still, a small part of me refused to let go.
I told myself he was born a high-society prince; it was only natural for him to be emotionally detached.
Until Kelly suddenly returned from abroad.
Until I watched him—a man who famously despised the media—break his own golden rules to sit for joint interviews just for her, letting her openly flirt with him on camera.
Around Kelly, Tristan was no longer an unyielding glacier.
His gaze followed her with boundless warmth and tenderness.
The tabloids called them a match made in heaven, the golden couple.
And throughout this entire spectacle, I was quietly stripped of my already unacknowledged title as his wife, reduced to nothing more than an invisible prop.
Leaving was the only choice I had left.
I forced myself to tear my eyes away from the picture-perfect couple just a few yards away, turning on my heel to walk off.
Suddenly, a sweet, breathy voice called out from behind.