Chapter 4

Before starting my next round of chemotherapy, the doctor ordered a series of scans.

As I walked out of the clinic, my entire body felt cold and exhausted.

But when I lifted my head, I bumped straight into Victoria.

She was wearing a perfectly tailored, incredibly expensive designer suit.

She looked as elegant, cold, and powerful as ever.

She marched over and grabbed my wrist tightly.

"Have you thrown your tantrum long enough?"

When I didn't reply, she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

Her tone softened slightly, but it was still demanding. "The will wasn't notarized, Julian. It’s not legally binding."

"Tristan has a congenital heart defect. I only wrote that to give him some security, to wish him well. It was just a gift."

What a pathetic, hollow excuse.

It was so ridiculous that my eyes filled with tears of disbelief.

I asked hoarsely, "To wish him well? You couldn't just buy him a charm? What about me, Victoria? What did I get?"

She choked on her words. I forcefully yanked my wrist out of her grip.

Years of suppressed agony and humiliation finally boiled over.

"Right after we got married, I was hospitalized for stomach bleeding. You ignored my calls, claiming you had to work late. But then Tristan posted photos of you taking him to Paris Fashion Week."

"On our anniversary, you told me you were traveling for a business conference. But I saw on his Instagram that you waited in line for three hours to buy him his favorite bubble tea."

"Every single time I had an oncology appointment, you were too busy. But you always had time to go to art exhibitions with him, buy him sports cars, and celebrate his birthday."

"Even when I was diagnosed with stage four cancer and lay dying, you chose to take him to Disneyland to watch the fireworks. Am I just some kind of joke to you?"

Every single memory felt like a knife twisting in my chest.

But saying them out loud made me realize the wound had finally scabbed over.

Victoria’s expression shattered. For the first time, panic crept into her eyes.

"You... you knew all of this?"

How tragic.

Until this very second, she actually believed she had hidden it perfectly.

I forced a smile, though tears ran down my face.

"I just chose not to speak up, Victoria. I’m not stupid."

"I pretended to be blind because I foolishly kept believing that the Victoria who loved me would eventually come back."

My fingernails dug so deep into my palms that they nearly drew blood.

My smile widened as I wiped the tears from my face.

"I kept lying to myself until I saw that will. Now, I can't do it anymore."

A flash of genuine guilt crossed her face.

It was the expression I had fantasized about seeing for years.

But it was far too late.

I looked her dead in the eye. "I have never spent a single dollar of your family's money, and I never will."

"If you have even an ounce of humanity left in you, sign the divorce papers."

With that, I walked right past her.

She reached out to grab my sleeve but stopped herself, not daring to touch me.

A week later, Mr. Henderson called to inform me that Victoria was refusing to sign the papers.

"Mr. Vance, if you insist on a divorce, we will have to take this to court."

"But Mrs. Sterling's legal team has made it clear that if you sue, they will drag this out indefinitely. They have unlimited resources."

Mr. Henderson sounded deeply concerned.

I knew Victoria could easily do that.

And I had nothing.

Mr. Henderson warned me that if she wanted to play dirty, the lawsuit could drag on for years.

I took a deep breath. "I refuse to spend my final days tied to her. I'll make her sign."

***