Chapter 3

I crossed my arms, a faint smile playing on my lips, but my eyes were brimming with coldness.

“Why are you talking out here? Is it something others can’t hear?”

They exchanged a glance, unsure if their conversation had been overheard.

Compared to Julian’s panic, Chloe quickly regained her composure.

She walked over intimately and linked her arm through mine.

“Oh, we were just talking about you, silly! I was asking Julian what you like these days because I wanted to get you a gift.”

I pulled Chloe’s hand away, forcing a polite, business-like smile.

“Still calling him Julian, huh? You two are still so close.”

Both their faces stiffened. I continued,

“No need for you to trouble yourself with gifts. Julian and I have everything we need now.”

I’d vaguely heard about Chloe’s life abroad; it hadn't been easy.

Driven by a desire for shared misery, I looked up at Julian, giving him no quarter.

“Julian, you and Chloe were quite the match in high school. But maybe you shouldn’t be too close now, I might get jealous.”

I said I might get jealous, but my cold demeanor sent a chill down Julian’s spine.

The ride home was silent. Julian’s phone kept buzzing.

I was starting to get annoyed by it. I asked,

“Aren’t you going to reply? What if Chloe has something important to tell you?”

The moment her name left my lips, Julian slammed on the brakes.

He shot me an irritated glance and then turned off his phone.

“I told you, there’s nothing going on between us. Didn’t I just explain it to you?”

His defense was weak and pale. I bit my lower lip, my mind already calculating divorce.

After that, their relationship completely froze. We didn’t even argue anymore.

Although he was the one who confessed, I clearly knew I was the one always chasing.

Every cold war ended with me making the first move to reconcile.

Julian would just brush me off with gifts, as if presents could solve everything.

But he forgot that it was my connections and family that had lifted him to heights he could never have reached on his own.

Perhaps Julian had truly loved me once, but that love letter signaled that I was never his first priority.

I felt too little love, and I didn't want to trap myself in fantasies.

But at night, getting lost in memories made it hard to breathe. My body felt off.

I selectively ignored it and went to work as usual the next day.

For several days, Julian didn't come home. I knew but paid it no mind, dedicating my energy to the company's new project.

It was only when I finally decided to take a night off and came home for dinner that Mr. Davies asked,

“It’s getting cold lately. Sir hasn’t been home for days. I wonder if he has enough clothes at the office. Madam, would you like to send some to him?”

This cold war had lasted too long, and everyone else in the house was a little anxious.

Perhaps Mr. Davies just couldn’t stand the current atmosphere and was offering a kind suggestion.

I’d been stressed with many things recently, and my emotions felt a little out of control.

My cool voice turned sharp, piercing through anyone who didn't align with my mood.

“If you’re so worried, go find him yourself. I probably even know where he is. Do you need me to tell you?”

Mr. Davies had been hired during my high school years because my parents were busy with the company.

Before, in our home, Mr. Davies always prioritized my feelings.

But after Julian and I got married, Mr. Davies gradually began to prioritize Julian.

I stared at the dishes in front of me, most of which were Julian’s favorites.

It wasn't just Mr. Davies; the housekeeper was the same.

Clothes and daily meals were first discussed with Julian. The home décor was arranged according to his preferences.

Everything that was mine was slowly being eroded, swallowed up.

I took a deep breath, my eyes sharp as I swept them over Mr. Davies.

“Find the design blueprints I made for the house before. Arrange everything according to those.”

Mr. Davies hesitated, wanting to speak, but then forced a smile.

“Madam, that’s a huge project, and we should discuss it with Sir first…”

I stared at her, expressionless.

Mr. Davies fell silent, no longer speaking, and immediately ordered someone to find the blueprints.

I went to the company and focused solely on organizing the project proposal, not noticing anyone had entered.

When I finally took a breather, I looked up to see Julian, whom I hadn't seen in days.

I pretended he wasn’t there, standing up to ask my secretary why she’d let someone in without my permission.

Julian stepped forward and grabbed my hand. After days apart, his first words were an accusation:

“Why are you redecorating the house? Are you planning to divorce me? All because of that love letter?”

He sighed in exasperation, accusing me:

“You’re getting more and more selfish. You weren’t like this before.”

At his words, my heart suddenly tightened. I exhaled, scrutinizing him.

“And you? Haven’t *you* changed?”

“Also, it’s my house. I don’t need you telling me what to do.”

Julian hated it when I talked about money.

Every time I brought it up, he felt like a failure, inferior to me.

I knew this, which is why I often avoided such topics and only praised Julian when we were out.

But with too much praise, not only did outsiders think I relied entirely on Julian, even Julian himself couldn’t distinguish reality.

Julian was provoked by my words, his grip unconsciously tightening on my wrist.

Pain shot through my wrist. I pressed my lips together, ignoring his cold gaze, and pried his hand off.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been up to these past few days.”

Julian was speechless for a moment, then quickly found his voice.

“You never saw how hard I worked for the company before? Now I’ve just made one mistake, and you’re treating me like this?”

“Is it true that you only care about this company, and I’m nothing more than your obedient dog?”

My brows furrowed. I didn’t understand why he was feeling sorry for himself. I just said,

“If that’s what you want to think, I can’t help you.”

Then, remembering something, I scoffed,

“Are things settled with Chloe yet? Or are you just coming here to throw a tantrum? You know I’m not a forgiving person, right?”

Julian’s body stiffened. He denied it flatly:

“I’m not.”

It was such a flimsy denial.

My phone vibrated in my hand. I glanced down, then dismissively replied to him,

“Yes, you’re right. It’s just harmonious, loving help between classmates and friends.”