Chapter 3

Blood dripped down my thighs onto the asphalt road, drawing sideways glances from passersby.

But I was completely numb, walking step by step until darkness fell and I finally reached my front door.

The brightly lit room drove away the cold of the deep night.

I raised my already frozen fingers and entered the passcode, but was met with an error beep.

I gritted my teeth and entered the code again and again, the system repeatedly telling me it was wrong.

Finally, the maid, annoyed beyond patience, strode over and opened the door, saying coldly:

"Ma'am, stop trying. Until you apologize to sir, you can't use anything sir bought."

"This house was bought by sir. If you don't apologize, you can't come in."

She looked me up and down and sneered:

"If you ask me, just apologize already. What kind of status does Mr. Turner have? There are plenty of women out there waiting to take your place. Look at yourself—no family background, no looks. Over thirty and now you can't even have children..."

"He has another woman pregnant outside, and he still hasn't divorced you. He's already being good to you. What are you making a fuss about..."

I interrupted her softly:

"I won't go in. I just need to get one thing."

The maid choked, then said sarcastically:

"Everything you own was bought by Mr. Turner. What could possibly belong to you? You're not planning to steal Mr. Turner's jewelry and bags to sell, are you?"

I said calmly:

"I just want to get my medical test results. Is that not allowed?"

The maid rolled her eyes, went upstairs, and threw down a manila envelope at me.

I picked up the envelope and looked at the azoospermia report with Ethan's name on it, smiling silently.

This was the pre-marital medical examination report from when Ethan and I got married ten years ago.

The moment I received the test results, my feelings were mixed. I didn't know how to tell Ethan about this.

Proud as he was, how could he accept being a defective man?

How would his peers use this to suppress him?

But fortunately, the doctor told me a secret—my physiology was special. I could activate Ethan's inactive sperm and conceive.

"Miss Cole, Mr. Turner is truly blessed to marry you. You're the only person with such a special constitution I've ever encountered..."

I had thought I would bury this secret in my heart forever and never let Ethan know.

But I never imagined that one day, I would have to reveal this secret myself.

I took out the little change in my pocket, made more than a dozen copies of this document, and handed them to a courier.

Each copy had the address of a company hostile to Ethan and the private contact information of those CEOs.

I said softly:

"Please deliver these as quickly as possible. Just tell them this is a gift from Mrs. Turner. They'll definitely give you a generous tip."

Ethan, this is my final gift to you before I leave.

I hope you like it.

Leaving the marital home Ethan and I shared, I returned to the small studio apartment where we lived when we started our business ten years ago.

Back then we were dirt poor, living only in the most run-down rental in the urban village.

The environment was terrible, but we were happy then.

Too poor to afford anything but instant noodles, Ethan would lie and say he'd eaten well at business dinners, dumping both portions into my bowl.

And late at night I'd see him standing at the sink, drinking glass after glass of tap water to fill his stomach.

Our wedding ceremony was held in that shabby rental too.

No banquet, just a plain silver ring that cost less than a thousand dollars.

This place meant everything to me.

So even after we moved to a luxury villa worth a hundred thousand per square meter, I secretly bought that rental property, fantasizing that when Ethan and I grew old, we'd move back there to live.

I never imagined that one day, when my marriage to Ethan ended, I would return to where we first began.