Chapter 4

Ever since uncovering Chloe's burner account, I found myself logging on every single day, watching their nauseatingly "sweet" moments unfold.

Soon, Chloe seemed to sense an unseen observer.

Her posts grew sharply pointed, dripping with targeted provocation.

One day, she shared an article analyzing modern relationships, captioning it:

"A connection between souls is infinitely more precious than mere mundane companionship."

The next day, she posted an aesthetic selfie, reflecting:

"A woman must never stop evolving, or she'll inevitably be discarded by the changing times."

Reading these blatant jabs, fury burned inside me, but on the surface, I remained completely unflappable.

I understood the psychology: the harder she tried to provoke me, the more desperate and insecure she truly was.

She craved the official title of wife. And I was going to ensure she never, ever got it.

Under this simmering tension, the night of Henry's annual charity gala finally arrived.

He personally picked out my evening gown, gently zipping it up from behind. Gazing at me through the full-length mirror, his eyes were filled with apparent awe.

"Brooke, you take my breath away," he whispered against my ear. "Tonight, you have to stay right by my side. You're my one and only rock."

Hearing "my one and only rock" spill from his lips was dripping with venomous irony.

I met his gaze in the mirror, offering a picture-perfect smile. "Of course. Supporting you is my duty as your wife."

I played the role of the devoted, supportive partner, nodding along to all his arrangements.

Yet behind his back, I hired a top-tier private investigator and secured ironclad forensic financial audits of the Vance Hope Foundation.

Every transaction, origin, and destination was laid out in brutal clarity.

Among the records were several massive sums moved from our joint marital accounts into the foundation under the guise of "personal donations," which were then promptly funneled straight into Chloe's private checking account.

Armed with the complete dossier, I met with my attorney, a renowned powerhouse in high-stakes divorce litigation.

She finished reviewing the final document, looked up, and met my gaze squarely.

"Mrs. Vance, candidly speaking, this extends far beyond standard charitable operations."

"This evidence clearly demonstrates the malicious dissipation and fraudulent transfer of marital assets. If you file, your chances of a decisive victory in court are exceptionally high."

I took a measured breath and looked her in the eye.

"Ms. Miller, winning the lawsuit is the least of what I want. I want him utterly ruined."

My attorney offered a subtle, knowing nod. "Understood. I will back you every step of the way."

Looking out the office window, my resolve hardened into stone.