I sat alone in the dark living room, waiting.

At 11:17 p.m., headlights swept across the windows.

Seconds later, the front door flew open.

Jiang Chen rushed inside.

He was still wearing the expensive suit from the celebration, but the confidence he had carried at the hotel was gone.

“Lin Khe.”

He hurried toward me.

“Why are you sitting in the dark?”

I looked at him calmly.

“Wasn’t I supposed to stay home?”

His expression froze.

He understood immediately.

“Khe Khe, about tonight—”

“Where is Bai Weiwei?”

He hesitated.

“I sent her home.”

I almost laughed.

A few hours earlier, she had been wearing my dress, holding my husband’s arm, and telling me to wait obediently at home.

Now that fifty billion was disappearing, suddenly he remembered who his wife was.

Jiang Chen sat beside me.

“Khe Khe, I made a mistake.”

He reached for my hand.

I moved it away.

His fingers stopped in midair.

“The party was full of investors and executives,” he explained quickly. “Weiwei handles the investment team, so I needed her beside me.”

“In my dress?”

His face changed.

“She said her dress was damaged.”

“And you gave her mine?”

Silence.

That silence told me everything.

I stood.

Jiang Chen immediately followed.

“Forget the dress. We can buy another one.”

I looked at him.

For the first time in five years, I wondered how I had ever loved this man enough to abandon my own career for him.

“You still don’t understand.”

“What?”

“The problem isn’t the dress.”

My voice remained quiet.

“The problem is that you believed everything belonging to me could be given away whenever it was convenient for you.”

His face stiffened.

I walked upstairs.

He followed me.

“Khe Khe, wait.”

I entered the bedroom and pulled a suitcase from the wardrobe.

His expression finally changed completely.

“What are you doing?”

“Packing.”

“Why?”

I turned toward him.

“Because I’m leaving.”

His face went pale.

“No.”

He grabbed the suitcase.

“We’re husband and wife. You can’t walk away because of one argument.”

“One argument?”

I stared at him.

“You publicly banned your wife from your company’s celebration.”

“You brought another woman wearing my clothes.”

“You told me I wasn’t worthy of entering.”

“And now you’re standing here because your investor withdrew fifty billion.”

Each sentence made his face darker.

Finally, he whispered:

“I didn’t know about your cousin.”

There it was.

Not regret.

Fear.

I smiled.

“Would you have treated me differently if you had known?”

Jiang Chen opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

His phone rang.

He looked at the screen.

Director Zhao.

The chairman of his company.

He answered immediately.

“Chairman Zhao—”

A furious voice exploded through the speaker.

“Jiang Chen! What exactly did you do?”

Jiang Chen turned away from me.

“Chairman, please give me some time. This is a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?”

The man almost shouted.

“The investment team has suspended the entire transaction! The board is calling an emergency meeting tomorrow morning!”

“I can fix it.”

“How?”

Jiang Chen looked at me.

“I’ll fix it.”

He hung up.

Then he walked toward me.

“Khe Khe.”

His voice had become almost gentle.

“Call your cousin.”

“No.”

Just one word.

His face tightened.

“I’m not asking you to beg him.”

“Good.”

“Just explain that tonight was a misunderstanding.”

“It wasn’t.”

His patience cracked.

“Lin Khe!”

I raised my eyes.

He stopped.

Perhaps he remembered what happened the last time he shouted at me.

He lowered his voice again.

“Do you understand how many people will lose money if this deal collapses?”

I looked at him steadily.

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“When you stopped me outside the hotel, you weren’t worried about humiliating me.”

“When Bai Weiwei wore my dress, you weren’t worried about our marriage.”

“But now that money is involved, suddenly you want me to think about everyone.”

He clenched his fists.

Before he could answer, headlights appeared outside again.

A black sedan stopped in front of the villa.

Jiang Chen frowned.

“Who is that?”

I closed my suitcase.

“My cousin.”

His head snapped toward me.

The doorbell rang.

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

Then Jiang Chen hurried downstairs.

I followed slowly.

When he opened the door, a tall man in a dark coat stood outside.

He looked to be in his early forties.

Calm.

Elegant.

Behind him stood two assistants.

Jiang Chen immediately straightened.

“Mr. Lin?”

The man didn’t even look at him.

His eyes went directly to me.

“Khe.”

That single word carried more warmth than anything my husband had said all evening.

I walked downstairs.

“Brother.”

Jiang Chen’s face changed.

The man stepped inside.

His gaze moved over my suitcase.

Then his expression hardened.

“Did he throw you out?”

“No.”

I looked at Jiang Chen.

“I decided to leave.”

My cousin nodded.

“Good.”

Jiang Chen forced a smile.

“Mr. Lin, I think there has been a misunderstanding.”

Only then did my cousin look at him.

“Which part?”

Jiang Chen swallowed.

“Tonight’s situation.”

“You mean the part where you prevented my cousin from entering a celebration funded by money she helped bring you?”

Jiang Chen froze.

“What?”

My cousin removed his gloves slowly.

“You thought my investment company chose your business because of your presentation?”

Jiang Chen’s face drained of color.

“The financial model was average.”

“The risk profile was high.”

“And three members of our committee initially voted against the deal.”

He paused.

“The reason I reconsidered was Lin Khe.”

Jiang Chen looked at me as though he had never seen me before.

I said nothing.

Five years earlier, when his company was drowning in debt, I had introduced suppliers.

I had found clients.

I had convinced people to give him another chance.

But eventually, Jiang Chen started believing every opportunity had appeared because he was extraordinary.

I allowed him to believe it.

That was my mistake.

My cousin continued.

“Your wife never asked me to invest because you were her husband.”

“She sent me your company’s data and asked me to judge it fairly.”

“Do you know what she said?”

Jiang Chen remained silent.

“She said you deserved one opportunity.”

My cousin’s eyes became colder.

“Apparently, she overestimated you.”

Jiang Chen suddenly turned toward me.

“Khe Khe, listen to me.”

I lifted my suitcase.

“There is nothing left to hear.”

He stepped in front of me.

“You can’t leave tonight.”

My cousin moved forward.

“You should move.”

Jiang Chen’s jaw tightened.

“This is between my wife and me.”

“Not anymore.”

I reached into my handbag.

There was one final thing I had prepared during the drive home.

I placed a document on the table.

Jiang Chen looked down.

His entire body stiffened.

A divorce agreement.

His lips parted.

“Lin Khe…”

“I’ve already signed it.”

He looked at the signature as though it were a death sentence.

Then suddenly he grabbed the papers.

“No.”

He tore them once.

Twice.

Again.

Pieces fell across the marble floor.

“You’re angry.”

His eyes were red.

“We’ll talk tomorrow.”

I watched the fragments settle between us.

Then I quietly opened my handbag again.

And took out another copy.

His face went blank.

“I expected that.”

My cousin almost smiled.

But before anyone could speak, Jiang Chen’s phone rang again.

This time, he answered immediately.

“What?”

His expression changed.

“What do you mean the board called an emergency vote?”

Silence.

Then his fingers began trembling.

“No.”

Another silence.

“You can’t remove me as general manager.”

My cousin glanced at his watch.

“It seems they can.”

Jiang Chen stared at him.

“You did this?”

“No.”

My cousin’s answer was calm.

“The board did.”

Then his assistant stepped forward and handed him a tablet.

My cousin glanced at the screen.

“Actually, there is another problem.”

Jiang Chen looked terrified.

“What problem?”

My cousin turned the tablet toward him.

On the screen were dozens of financial transfers.

Company accounts.

Consulting fees.

Payments approved through the executive office.

And beside several transactions was the same name.

Bai Weiwei.

Jiang Chen’s face turned completely white.

I frowned.

Because even I had never seen those records before.

My cousin looked at me.

“Khe, did you know about this?”

I shook my head.

“No.”

For the first time that night, his expression became truly serious.

“Then the investment withdrawal may be the smallest problem your husband has.”

Jiang Chen suddenly lunged for the tablet.

My cousin’s assistant stepped between them.

“Where did you get that?!”

Jiang Chen shouted.

Nobody answered.

Then my phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

I opened the message.

There was only one photograph.

Bai Weiwei standing at an airport departure gate.

Two suitcases beside her.

And beneath the photograph was a sentence:

She is leaving the country tonight.

I looked up at Jiang Chen.

His face told me everything.

Whatever Bai Weiwei had done, he knew at least part of it.

My cousin picked up my suitcase.

“Let’s go.”

I walked toward the door.

Behind me, Jiang Chen called my name.

This time, I didn’t stop.

But just before I stepped outside, another message arrived.

I looked at the screen.

And froze.

It was from Bai Weiwei.

Sister, if you really want to know why Jiang Chen married you five years ago, come to the airport alone.

Then a second message appeared.

Your marriage was never an accident.
:::