Chapter 3

His assistant quickly stepped forward to explain: "Miss Sterling, you've misunderstood! Mr. Thorne had a bit of an accident this morning and injured his arm. He's been at the hospital getting his wounds treated, and his phone ran out of battery and turned off automatically, which is why he couldn't reply to your messages in time. Please, don't be angry!"

Upon hearing this, Chloe immediately panicked. She grabbed Julian's hand and indeed saw the white gauze peeking out from beneath his suit cuff.

Her tears instantly fell: "You're hurt? Why didn't you say anything sooner!"

Julian merely gently wiped away her tears: "Regardless, I promised to reply to your messages instantly. Not doing so is my fault and I should be punished."

Chloe cried even harder, burying her face in his chest: "How can you be so good to me…"

Julian embraced her, his voice so soft it could melt steel: "Because I love you, baby. Since I was wrong, how do you want to punish me?"

Chloe's tears turned into a smile, her eyes darted, and she pouted, pointing at the ground: "Then I want to ride on your back like a horse here!"

The assistant's face changed, and he was about to object, but Julian raised a hand to stop him.

He looked at her, his eyes filled with indulgence: "Must it be here?"

"It must be here!"

"Alright." Julian agreed without hesitation, and right there, in front of everyone, he humbled himself and got down on his hands and knees, saying softly, "Come on."

Chloe giggled happily, skillfully climbed onto his back, like a proud little princess.

And the business magnate, who dominated headlines in global financial news and whose word was absolute, was now willingly carrying his little princess on his back, crawling on the floor of the police station. There wasn't a hint of impatience on his face, only pure indulgence and affection.

The entire police station was utterly silent, no one daring to even breathe.

Only I clamped my hand over my mouth, tears streaming down like a burst dam.

If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it even if I died—that cold, emotionless Julian Thorne, whose eyes were only on his work, could have such a side!

Memories flooded back, carrying a suffocating bitterness.

Before marrying him, I had heard Julian Thorne's name.

The media exhausted every superlative to describe his dashing looks, his capability, his business acumen. He was the perfect heir; within a year of taking over the conglomerate, he propelled Thorne Industries to the top of the Forbes list.

His only flaw, perhaps, was his indifference to women, as if he were a machine built solely for work.

Yet, one fleeting glimpse at a banquet, his aloof, almost ascetic demeanor, his distinguished bearing, instantly captivated me. My heart could hold no one else.

So when my family proposed a business marriage, I agreed ecstatically.

My best friend at the time tried to persuade me: "Julian Thorne is great, but he's a heartless work machine. You won't find happiness in that marriage."

But I naively believed that if I was good enough, if I loved him enough, I could melt his cold heart someday.

What was the result?

On our wedding night, he coldly went through the motions, then emotionlessly told me: "I have no interest in romance or emotional attachments. Our marriage is purely for business. As long as you stay in your place, I will fulfill my marital duties and ensure you enjoy the prestige of being Mrs. Thorne for life. Don't expect anything more."

So, after we married, no matter how many times he ignored me or abandoned me for work, I endured it.

I told myself, he didn't love me, but he didn't love anyone else either. That was enough.

But until today, witnessing with my own eyes how he treasured Chloe, how he bowed his proud head for her, how he spoke the "I love you" that I yearned for three years but never received…

I could no longer deceive myself.

It wasn't that he was indifferent to women, or inherently cold; it was simply that the person he loved wasn't me, Elara Vance.

All my persistence and endurance had become an absolute joke.

I wiped away my tears, turned, and walked out of the County Clerk's Office. Then I took out my phone and dialed a number:

"Mr. Harrison, please prepare a divorce agreement for me."

The next day, I arrived at Thorne Industries headquarters with the freshly drawn-up divorce papers.

But the receptionist informed me: "Mrs. Thorne, Mr. Thorne hasn't been to the office in a long time."

My heart felt as though it had been pricked by a needle again.

Not been to the office in a long time?

Julian Thorne, the workaholic who once lived and worked at the company for a month straight for a project?

I swallowed the bitterness and asked, "Where did he go?"

The receptionist looked troubled and whispered, "He's accompanying Miss Sterling to a Sotheby's auction."

An auction…

I recalled the rumors: he would spare no expense to make his beloved smile.

I took a deep breath and drove to the auction house.

Inside the venue, there was a dazzling array of socialites and celebrities.

My eyes immediately found Julian Thorne sitting in the front row, and beside him, the delicate and lively Chloe Sterling.

The auctioneer was introducing the grand finale item, a blue diamond necklace rumored to have once belonged to a British queen. The starting bid was already exorbitant.