Chapter 2

After firmly regaining control of my own company, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I headed home first, planning to pack up my belongings and make a clean break from Olivia.

But as soon as I opened the door, a musty smell assaulted my senses.

Olivia had been in the hospital for the latter part of her pregnancy, then went straight to a postpartum care center after giving birth. I had been away on business trips. This home probably hadn't been tidied in nearly half a year.

I was about to open a window to air things out when I suddenly tripped over something in the living room.

Looking down, I realized it was a large picture frame that had been tossed on the floor.

Picking it up, I saw it was the wedding photo Olivia and I had taken after getting engaged.

Come to think of it, it was Olivia who had insisted on going to the photo studio for a pre-wedding shoot back then.

She had me try on dozens of suits, never quite satisfied, spending an entire afternoon before finally choosing a white suit she liked.

Though it wasn't really my style, I accepted it happily, touched by how much effort Olivia had put into choosing it for me.

The earnestness in her eyes that day was still vivid in my memory.

Snapping back to the present, I wiped the dust off the frame, feeling confused.

I had always kept our wedding photo hanging in the bedroom. Why was it thrown on the living room floor?

It wasn't until I walked into the bedroom that I understood.

Above the headboard now hung a wedding photo of Olivia and Jack.

In the picture, a visibly pregnant Olivia was wrapped in Jack's arms, smiling like she had won the whole world.

And they were wearing the exact wedding dress and suit that Olivia had so carefully selected that day.

Suddenly it all made sense. No wonder Olivia wasn't satisfied no matter how many suits I tried on that afternoon. No wonder she ended up choosing a stark white suit that didn't suit me at all.

It was never meant for me in the first place.

Over the years, my skin had gotten quite tanned from all the business trips and time spent outdoors. A pure white suit looked odd and out of place on me.

But Jack, who had been cooped up in the office as Olivia's assistant, was pale and delicate. The white suit made him look like a prince charming straight out of a fairytale.

I let out a bitter laugh and started to pack up my things, planning to sell the house afterwards.

This apartment was originally prepared by my parents as our marital home. Since the marriage wasn't happening anymore, there was no point keeping it. Might as well sell it to ease the company's tight cash flow.

But when I opened the closet, my fists clenched involuntarily.

All my belongings were gone, replaced by Jack's dress shirts that he often wore.

I immediately messaged Olivia, demanding to know what happened to my clothes.

It was a good 15 minutes before she replied:

"Of course I threw them all out. Jack's old apartment was too far from the office, so I had him move in here."

"He's a germaphobe and couldn't use your things, so I got rid of them."

"Besides, you bought all that stuff with the salary I paid you. It was my money to begin with, so I can do whatever I want with it. I don't need your permission, do I?"

I had to admit, Olivia had always had a talent for twisted logic and self-justification.

Seeing I didn't respond, she sent another message:

"What, are you upset about losing your old junk?"

"I heard about what happened at the office this morning. If you quietly hand over the project to Jack, I'll buy you a new set of designer clothes. I'll even let you keep a storage room to rest in."

"No need," I replied curtly.

Before Olivia could type anything else, I blocked her on all messaging apps and called a junk collector to clear out everything in the apartment.

Then I listed the property for sale with a real estate agency and checked into a hotel.

Early the next morning, the junk collector transferred me some money.

Though he only paid 30 cents per pound as scrap, it still added up to a decent sum. Clearly Olivia had spared no expense in buying things for Jack, as if she wanted to give him the whole world.

I was about to get up and wash up when Olivia suddenly called.

"Lucas! Who gave you permission to sell our marital home?! Where are Jack and the baby supposed to live now?!"

"And what about all his designer suits and gaming consoles? Where did you throw them?!"

Olivia was so angry she could barely catch her breath.

I found it darkly amusing. My belongings could be tossed out without a second thought, but Jack's things were suddenly precious treasures.

"Oh, so you do remember it was supposed to be our marital home?" I replied calmly. "Since you've married Jack now, what's wrong with me selling it?"

"As for the stuff in the house, it's all been sold for scrap, of course."

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end. But Olivia quickly recovered, letting out a contemptuous laugh.

"Lucas, do you think selling the house means I'm out of options? Don't tell me you're trying to play hard to get, using these petty tricks to get my attention."

"Know your place. You're just a tool I hired to work for me. Don't go imagining things that will never happen!"

With that, Olivia hung up.

Almost simultaneously, Jack posted an update on social media. It was a photo of him signing purchase documents at a real estate office.

The caption read: "Finally have a place to call my own in this city."

Jack's assistant position at the company didn't pay much, and given his extravagant spending habits, there was no way he could afford to buy property on his own.

Obviously, Olivia had footed the bill, buying back the house I had just put on the market.

Jack's post was clearly meant to show off and rub it in my face.

But far from being upset, I could barely hold back my laughter.

Though housing prices had dropped in recent years, I had bought early enough that I still made a profit overall.

If anything, Olivia had essentially handed over all the company's earnings from the past two years to me.

And Jack was treating a depreciating asset like some precious treasure.

I treated myself to a lavish meal to celebrate for the first time in ages.

The business registration office also sent a text notifying me that the change in shareholding had been approved.

I was in high spirits as I prepared to go take over the company. But as soon as I walked through the doors, I ran into Olivia.

"What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be—"

Before I could finish, Olivia's palm connected sharply with my cheek.