Chapter 1

Ethan once told me the faint aroma of food clinging to my skin was the scent he'd treasure for the rest of his life.

He sat on a cold bench outside my kitchen for an entire night, waiting for me to perfect a single sauce.

I thought that was love.

Then he gave away the winery I'd dreamed of my entire life to another woman during a global livestream, casually saying, "As long as you like it."

I made scenes. I went crazy. I threw away my dignity trying to win back his heart.

But when he didn't hesitate to carry his mistress out of a fire without even glancing back at me, I finally understood.

Once sincerity rots, it can never be mended.

That night, I made him one final dish. I called it "Oblivion."

Anna's POV

The glow from the kitchen fire illuminated my calm face.

The aroma of French slow-roasted squab filled the air. Black truffle juices sizzled softly under the high heat.

Today marked the day L'Éternité officially earned its third Michelin star. And my third wedding anniversary with Ethan.

For this celebration dinner, I'd turned down all media interviews and stood in the kitchen for six straight hours.

Ethan once said the thing he treasured most in this life was the faint scent of food on my skin.

He'd sat on a freezing bench outside my kitchen for an entire night, waiting for me to perfect a single sauce.

He'd spent a fortune building me the finest private kitchen in all of America.

"Miss Anna..." My assistant Lynn pushed open the kitchen door, her steps frantic. She clutched her tablet tightly, her eyes evasive.

"How long until he arrives?" I placed the final gold leaf garnish on the plate, my voice gentle.

Lynn bit her lip. Her eyes suddenly reddened as she handed over the tablet. "Mr. Sinclair... he probably won't make it."

On the screen was a livestream of a top-tier winery auction in Bordeaux, France.

At the center of the frame stood Ethan in a bespoke tailored suit, his posture impeccable, his handsome face wearing a casual smile.

He'd just bid one point five billion dollars for the legendary "Moonlight Winery."

That was my lifelong dream. I'd curled up in his arms countless times, describing how I'd buy that winery and use its grapes to create a signature sauce just for him. He'd kissed my forehead then, murmuring a promise. "I'll definitely buy it for you."

And now, before the eyes of the world, Ethan casually handed the ownership documents to a young woman beside him.

Her name was Chloe, a recently viral food blogger known for her innocent eyes and clumsy yet heartfelt cooking videos.

Chloe covered her mouth in excitement, stood on her tiptoes, and pressed a kiss to Ethan's cheek.

"Thank you, Ethan! I'll definitely use these grapes to make you the best wine ever!"

Ethan didn't pull away. Instead, he indulgently touched her hair and spoke casually into the camera. "As long as you like it."

The kitchen fell deathly silent.

Lynn watched me nervously.

A year ago, when Ethan was linked to an actress, I drove my car straight into hers.

Six months ago, when he was photographed on a yacht with a strange woman, I had people destroy that yacht the same night.

Everyone knew I loved Ethan intensely. Obsessively. Even madly.

I wouldn't allow anyone to touch him.

"Anna, PR is asking if we should handle that girl the usual way?" Lynn asked carefully, afraid I'd overturn this meticulously prepared dinner any second.

I stared quietly at Ethan's doting smile on the screen.

That smile once belonged only to me. Now he'd given away my dream, my treasured promise, so casually to another woman.

There was no hysterical screaming, no angry destruction. I just felt my heart squeezed by an invisible hand. The pain so extreme it turned into a strange numbness.

"No." My voice was eerily calm, calm enough to frighten Lynn.

I pulled out a chair and sat down, picking up my knife and fork to cut into the squab that had grown slightly cold. I placed it in my mouth.

The premium ingredients filled my mouth, but I tasted nothing. Each swallow felt like shredded glass scraping down my throat.

"Miss Anna..."

"Tell everyone to leave early. The restaurant will be closed tomorrow." I swallowed the last bite and picked up my napkin, dabbing my lips with perfect grace.

For two years, I'd made scenes, gone crazy, trampled all my dignity trying to keep this man's heart. But once sincerity rots, it can never be stitched back together.

I removed my Michelin chef's whites that symbolized my honor and tossed them casually over the chair.

I was tired. I didn't want to fight anymore.