Chapter 3

Ethan took my silence as submission. He helped Chloe to the sofa, then walked back to the bed, looking down at me.

"Audrey, I know you’re emotionally unstable right now after the miscarriage."

"But you can't go around treating everyone like they're your enemy."

He lectured me in his usual logical, cold tone.

"Chloe is about to start her internship at the company. It’s hard for a young girl just entering society."

"Give her the position of director for the New York project. It'll be good practice for her."

The New York project was something I had pulled all-nighters for, drinking countless cups of black coffee to secure. It held the core profit for the company's second half of the year.

With one casual sentence, he wanted to hand it over to a fresh graduate who couldn't even pass a basic interview.

I looked up at his arrogant face.

"Okay," I agreed, my voice completely flat.

Ethan was visibly stunned.

He hadn't expected me to agree so easily. All the arguments he had prepared died in his throat, replaced by an uncontrollable look of satisfaction.

"You’re finally growing up."

He even reached out, patting my hair with the haughty grace of a master rewarding a pet.

"This is what a good wife should be like."

"Once you’re discharged, I’ll put my work aside and take you to the Bahamas for a vacation."

"Don't worry about the baby. We can always have another one later."

Sitting on the sofa, Chloe watched Ethan’s gentle gesture toward me. She bit her lip secretly, then suddenly clutched her chest with a soft groan.

"Ethan, my chest feels so tight. I think I caught a cold on the rooftop the other day."

"Audrey just had a miscarriage, so she should really rest at home. Going to the beach might make her condition worse."

Ethan immediately pulled his hand back from my head and turned to Chloe.

"You're right. Audrey's body is too weak for long-distance travel."

"Once Chloe’s internship stabilizes, I’ll take you out."

He turned back to me, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"I won't be coming to the office for the next few days. Chloe is unwell, so I’ll stay at the apartment to take care of her."

"Get some good rest. If you need anything, call the nurse."

I didn't speak. My phone screen lit up.

It was a WhatsApp notification from Marcus, my lawyer.

"Ms. Vance, the asset liquidation is complete. We can pull the net at any time."

My fingers tapped on the screen, replying with four simple words.

"Wait till I'm out."

Seeing me staring at my phone, Ethan’s brow furrowed.

"I’m talking to you. Did you hear me?"

"I heard you."

I locked my phone screen.

My submissive attitude pleased Ethan immensely.

He tucked the blanket around me, his movements incredibly gentle.

As if he were the perfect, loving husband.

But looking at a strand of Chloe's curly hair stuck to his suit sleeve, another wave of nausea washed over me.

"I’m tired. I want to sleep."

I turned my back to him. Ethan said nothing and left the room with Chloe.

For the next few days, Ethan never showed up again. He didn't even call.

I took my medication on time and cooperated with the doctors, quietly watching the leaves turn yellow outside the window.

Maria, the nurse, looked at me several times, hesitating.

"Ms. Vance, your husband..."

"He’s dead to me," I interrupted. Maria gasped and didn't dare say another word.

On the day I was discharged, a light drizzle was falling.

I changed into my clothes and folded my hospital gown neatly on the bed.

My phone vibrated. A Snapchat message from Ethan popped up.

"Chloe got bullied at the office and is crying hysterically. I really can't leave her."

"Take a cab back yourself. Stay safe."

I looked at the message, not even feeling the desire to reply.

I handled the discharge paperwork myself and walked out of the hospital gates holding my duffel bag. The cold wind, mixed with rain, bit into my skin.

I hailed a cab and gave the driver my villa’s address.

The villa was paid for in full by me before our marriage.

The car stopped at the gates.

I paid the driver, carried my bag, and walked up to the front door to enter the passcode.

"Incorrect passcode," the mechanical voice chimed in the rain. I stared at the flashing red light on the digital lock.