Chapter 1

Harrison and I getting married was more like a performance.

We liked to show affection in public. The more affectionate we appeared, the more stable both our companies' stock prices remained.

At the same time, we tacitly turned a blind eye to each other's extramarital affairs. The more stable our relationship looked, the stronger our business alliance became.

I thought we would go on like this forever.

Until one day, Harrison suddenly humiliated me in public. He shook off my arm that was looped through his and said loudly, "Can you act with a little more dignity? This is a public place."

The media captured the moment, and it made the gossip headlines.

Soon, divorce rumors were flying everywhere.

He apologized to me in private.

But the second time, he pushed me down in front of a crowd and walked away.

The third time, he took my favorite diamond necklace and threw it in the trash, making a show of how repulsed he was by me.

Later, I found out he had a new girlfriend and was doing everything he could to humiliate me, just to give her a sense of security.

That night, he used the old trick again, placing a sapphire on my nightstand and asking if I liked it.

"Yes, I like it. Let's get a divorce. I'm tired."

I'd learned that trick too.

I hadn't expected that, along with the divorce papers, he'd also pull out a sapphire of exceptional purity and extraordinary value—more than twice the price of the one he'd bought at auction a while back. He introduced it to me with more seriousness than an auctioneer, detailing its origin, purity, and rarity.

Finally, he ventured, "You like it, don't you? This one's even more beautiful than the last."

Like so many times before, presenting a gift was the furthest he would go to make amends.

He wouldn't even say he was sorry. He just looked at me, full of hope, expecting me to give him the same satisfying answer I always had.

That way, we could go back to how things were, playing the part of that glamorous, business-union couple.

I answered, "Yes, I like it. Let's get a divorce. I'm tired."

He smiled, quickly saying, "Knew you'd like it. Well, get some rest. I still have to go out—"

He stopped mid-sentence, turning back in disbelief: "What did you just say?"

I knew he'd heard me. I just leaned back against the headboard and stared at him.

Until he asked, "Are you serious?"

I replied, "Is it because I'm in my pajamas that I don't seem dignified enough for this conversation?"

He frowned, thinking for a moment. "Is this your new way of pouting? Like those women who break up to show they're angry? Alexandra, don't be childish. Is marriage just about the two of us? I suggest you drop this before things get out of hand for everyone."

His phone rang. He answered, and his tone suddenly turned tender.

"You're such a scaredy-cat? Fine, next time I'll get you a smaller apartment, so you won't be so afraid living alone."

"Alright, hang on. I'll calm things down at home and be right there. Be good."

"Only giving me five minutes? Isn't that a bit much?"

Even so, five minutes later, he was out the door. He left only with: "Think it over carefully. Are you going to apologize to me for this ridiculous demand?"