Chapter 2
Charlotte Vance's POV
A buzzing sound exploded in my head. I stared at him in disbelief, wondering if my ears were playing tricks on me.
I snapped my head up, my voice hoarse. "What did you say?! Please say that again."
"Ms. Vance, what I mean is... this marriage certificate is a fake. There is absolutely no record of a registration for you and Mr. Julian Sterling in the City Hall database."
Zachary Ward looked at my face, which had turned instantly pale, and reluctantly continued,
"Furthermore, we found during our background check that Mr. Julian Sterling is already legally married. And his lawful wife is the popular starlet, Chloe Somerset."
I stared intently at the investigation report stamped by the City Hall.
The names "Julian Sterling" and "Chloe Somerset" printed side-by-side pierced my eyes.
On Valentine's Day seven years ago, Julian took me to a remote notary public office. He said that to avoid paparazzi, celebrities registered through a special channel rather than going through the public City Hall process.
That day, someone took our photo, someone stamped a document, and they even solemnly recited what sounded like vows.
...As it turned out, it was all a lie!
It was a seven-year-long scam, a meticulously planned conspiracy!
"Ms. Vance?" Mr. Ward called out with concern.
I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, the vulnerability in them had been replaced by a chilling, dead silence.
I grabbed the pen from the desk and signed my name on the inheritance confirmation document, my pen tip nearly ripping through the paper.
"I understand. Keep today's matters strictly confidential."
Half an hour later, at the VIP corridor of New York International Airport.
Wearing a black cap and a mask, I hid in the shadows at the end of the corridor.
Today was the day Julian Sterling was returning to the country after wrapping up his shoot with an overseas crew.
For seven years, whenever he returned, I would pick him up in person, rain or shine.
A commotion arose near the exit.
Julian Sterling, wearing a haute couture trench coat and sunglasses, walked out flanked by a crowd of bodyguards.
He was as handsome as ever—after all, he was a perfect masterpiece sculpted by seven years of my blood, sweat, and tears.
Right then, a petite figure dashed out from the corridor on the other side, like a graceful butterfly, throwing herself straight into Julian's arms.
It was Chloe Somerset, "the Nation's Sweetheart," who had skyrocketed to fame with her pure, sensible, and frugal persona.
Instead of pushing her away, Julian expertly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.
He lowered his head, pulled down his mask, and kissed Chloe passionately in a blind spot of the bustling VIP corridor.
Chloe stood on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck, smiling like a cat that had successfully stolen a treat.
Standing behind a pillar ten meters away, my blood ran ice-cold.
My stomach churned violently, a wave of physical revulsion surging up my throat.
*Bzzz—*
The phone in my pocket suddenly vibrated.
I pulled it out mechanically. The screen flashed with "Hubby". Tapping it open, it was a ten-second voice message.
Julian's deep, affectionate, and slightly weary voice rang in my ear. "Charlotte, I just landed. I miss you so much. The crew has absolutely exhausted me these past few months. I pushed back tonight's celebratory banquet and I'm heading straight home now. I just want to hold my only baby. Wait for me."
Up ahead, Julian tucked his phone back into his pocket with a smile right after sending the message. He leaned in to whisper intimately into Chloe's ear, making her coyly punch his chest.
I gripped my phone so hard my knuckles turned a stark, terrifying white.
A single tear fell onto the screen, shattering into countless droplets.
I didn't rush out to confront them, nor did I break down and cry on the spot.
I just stood there quietly, watching the backs of that wretched couple as they walked away in each other's arms, my eyes growing colder and sharper by the second, like blades dipped in poison.