Chapter 3

"Is Master Julian calling just to yell at me? Then I'm hanging up."

I dabbed my face with a tissue, my tone flat.

"I admit, making excuses and breaking the appointment was wrong, but that's no reason for you to disrespect Chloe."

"Right now, unblock both of us. Otherwise, our marriage is over."

My fingernails dug deep into my palm.

I truly hadn't expected Julian to be the one to propose divorce first, one day.

I was about to agree, but then Chloe's suggestive voice drifted from the background, as if she'd struck a pose and was asking Julian how it looked.

I felt a wave of nausea:

"Your muse is calling you, Master Julian. You two go wild with your art. As an outsider, I won't interfere."

"After all, I'm the only one with a filthy mind, and you two are perfectly pure."

Julian flew into a rage:

"We are!"

"Chloe is a low-income student. I just want to give her a chance to get exposure and earn money. What's wrong with me, her professor, helping her out? What are you making a fuss about?"

Chloe's voice grew closer on the phone, her soft, alluring breaths audible:

"Professor Julian, what do you think... about this pose?"

The next second, Julian seemed to pull the phone away, his tone infatuated:

"Yes... that's the feeling. You lie there, don't move, I'll be right there."

Then, he leaned closer to the microphone, his voice suddenly deepening:

"I'm giving you two days. Get your ass back from Paris immediately and rough-sculpt for us. Otherwise, whether it's at home or the Art Academy, I'll make sure you're out!"

The line went dead.

I realized how terribly wrong I had been.

Wrong to think that personally organizing an exhibition would somehow reign in his wild ways.

I should have guessed the outcome the moment Julian, without even looking, hastily signed our divorce papers.

After returning the phone to the manager, I left the exhibition early and, back at the hotel, checked my phone.

Countless missed calls and messages flooded in, all inquiring about Julian and Chloe's two-person sculpture.

The group had blown up my mentions, densely packed with people reserving sculptures, some even offering millions, tens of millions, with no upper limit.

The buyers were in a frenzy, demanding a definitive answer from me.

But I would get my divorce decree tomorrow. What answer was there to give?

With a few quick taps, I left the group and immediately sent my resignation to the Art Academy's HR department.

The message showed as 'read,' but there was no response.

I called, but the line was busy.

Puzzled, I started packing my luggage.

But just as I finished, the Dean of the Art Academy called.

He said the art entrance exam questions had been leaked, and someone had reported me for accepting bribes and compromising the fairness of the exams.

At that moment, many parents of students who failed the exams were causing a scene at the school gate.

For a second, I thought my mind had just short-circuited.

They were sensible words, yet I couldn't make sense of a single one.

"Dean Miller, could the student have reported the wrong person? I'm just a teaching assistant; I've never even been assigned to proctor an exam. How could I possibly have the ability to leak exam questions?"

But then the Dean sent me a three-page long accusation letter.

Reading the contents, my hands trembled with fear. I forgot to check out of my room and frantically bought a ticket back home.

When I rushed into the Dean's office, dusty and disheveled, I immediately demanded to confront the accuser.

Dean Miller said nothing, merely bringing out the witness: a close acquaintance of Chloe's, the student who claimed to have offered the bribe—Maya.

"Dean Miller, she's a close acquaintance of Chloe's. Chloe and I have deep-seated animosity; it's possible she's framing me."

"Enough!"

Julian suddenly pushed the door open, storming in and yelling at me without any verification:

"Framing? You just hate her and want to drag Chloe down!"

"Skylar! I thought you were just overly jealous, but still had professional ethics as a teacher. I never imagined you'd actually be corrupt!"

"Do you know how important the fairness of the art exams is? You're destroying the futures of other candidates! A selfish and greedy person like you doesn't deserve to be a teacher, and certainly doesn't deserve to be my wife!"

I instantly froze, my heart feeling as if it had been brutally split in half by an axe.

After a long moment, I managed to speak, my voice rough:

"Julian, in your eyes, am I the kind of person who would accept bribes from students?"

Julian stared at me coldly, his gaze filled with murderous hatred:

"Otherwise, what? The USB drive with my exam materials from my study is missing."

One sentence sealed everything.