The Spencer Family didn’t waste any time. Their security guards threw me out like I was trash.
A couple of hours later, Jasmine texted me, [Joel’s just been released and he’s not in a good headspace. Don’t take it personally. I only asked you to apologize earlier to keep up appearances for the Spencer Family.]
[Once I’ve handled everything, I’ll come home tonight to apologize properly, okay? And I told you I’d get you a gift, so don’t be mad, husband.]
Yeah, right. This wasn’t about the Spencer Family—it never was. This whole thing was for me. She had spent three years faking affection and now, it was finally falling apart.
I sat at home, divorce papers laid out on the table, waiting for her. Midnight passed. No sign of her.
Instead, the internet exploded with news.
The CEO of Greer Group had shown up at the hospital with Joel. He wasn’t even seriously hurt, just a couple of scratches, but she had called in a full team of specialists, sparing no expense.
Millions spent for what?
And then there were the photos. The two of them, holding each other tight. Her face was soft, full of warmth and tenderness. A look I’d never seen her give me. Not once.
At dawn, I finally called her.
She answered, but it was like I wasn’t even there at first. She was busy giving orders to her secretary.
“Ms. Greer,” the secretary started nervously, “are you sure about transferring the overseas hotel to Mr. Sanford? That’ll cost the company hundreds of millions. Maybe reconsider?”
Jasmine’s voice was sharp. “No, do it. That’s the compensation I promised him. And draft another contract to transfer half the company’s shares to Joel.”
When she finally turned her attention to me, her tone was light, like nothing had happened.
“Nash? Sorry for making you wait. I’ll head home soon. Is there something you wanted to talk about?”
I glanced at the divorce agreement in front of me, my chest tight. But my voice came out steady. “No, it’s fine. Go ahead with your work. I won’t bother you.”
“Okay,” she said casually. “Just wait for me at home. I’ll be back soon.”
I didn’t wait. I signed the papers, packed my bags and walked out.
Then, I headed straight to the police station and asked them to dig up the letter of understanding. Once I had it, I made a copy and sent it to Jasmine.
The timing was perfect—she would get it right when I was boarding my flight.
I had stayed out for an entire day and night. She didn’t come home either. The countdown on my phone hit zero.
Right as I got on the plane, her texts started coming in.
[Nash, I had my assistant drop off your gift at home. Why aren’t you opening the door? Are you still upset?]
[Don’t be mad, okay? Be good. I’ll be back soon.]
I didn’t reply. Instead, I stared at Joel’s latest hospital post. The picture showed Jasmine gently feeding him fruit, her eyes full of affection I had never seen directed at me.
A notification buzzed—confirmation that our marriage had been canceled. I deleted her contact info without hesitation.
At the hospital, her secretary came rushing in, her face pale and panicked, holding a letter in her hand.
“Ms. Greer! We’ve got a problem! Mr. Schultz somehow got his hands on the letter of understanding you forged three years ago! I can’t reach him!”
