When I was eighteen, I accidentally took the wrong cold medicine, which triggered acute liver failure. I was lucky enough to survive thanks to a kind stranger who donated part of their liver.
Donor information was supposed to be strictly confidential, but since my family owned the hospital, I used some connections to find out who it was.
Before then, I only knew Ethan Walker as a top student who’d earned a special scholarship for his outstanding grades.
After learning the truth, I began pursuing him.
I chased Ethan for four years. He treated me well but always refused to be in a relationship.
Then, at our college graduation ceremony, he suddenly proposed to me in front of the entire student body.
Overjoyed and touched, I said yes immediately.
Ignoring my parents’ objections, I left New York with him and moved to Seattle to help him start his business.
I never imagined that the proposal I cherished so dearly was nothing but a petty move to spite the woman he truly loved.
It made the years I had devoted to him without regret seem like the act of a complete fool.
When Ethan graduated, he had nothing—not a penny to his name. But in just five years, he became one of Seattle’s rising tech stars.
He thought it was all thanks to his talent, not realizing that I had been feeding him resources from behind the scenes.
Now, without my support, I’d like to see how long it takes for his true colors to show.
When I returned home that day, I hadn’t even stepped through the door before I heard a crisp, bell-like laugh from inside.
A woman sat on Ethan’s lap, arms wrapped around his neck, laughing so hard she shook.
I stared at his hand resting possessively on her waist, my mind going blank.
In five years of marriage, apart from the routine marital duties in bed, Ethan had never touched me willingly.
I had thought he was simply reserved and shy.
Now I knew—it was just because he didn’t love me.
Faced with the woman he truly adored, he could be tender, clingy, and affectionate.
When they saw me, neither of them showed the slightest guilt.
Ethan said casually, “Perfect timing—you’re back. Go make dinner, we have a guest. Keep it light.”
He spoke to me like a servant giving orders, and I almost forgot that before we were married, I had been a pampered young lady who had never lifted a finger in the kitchen.
The woman on his lap smiled openly and greeted me. “Claire, it’s been a long time. Do you remember me?”
How could I not?
Isabella Reed, Columbia University’s beauty queen.
The dream girl of countless admirers.
And the untouchable “white moonlight” Ethan could never have—until now.
"Don’t get the wrong idea," Isabella said sweetly. "I had a bout of low blood sugar, and Ethan kindly carried me upstairs."
Just looking at the two of them made me feel sick. I ignored them and headed to the bedroom to grab my things and leave.
But when I opened the door, everything inside had changed.
All of my belongings were gone.
Even the bed had been replaced.
I glared at Ethan, my voice shaking with anger. “Do you have anything to say about this?”
"Isabella just got back from abroad. Her place isn’t ready yet, so she’s staying here for a few days. The guest room’s too small for her, so I moved your things there instead."
"You can share it with my mom."
She’s uncomfortable, so I’m the one who has to move out?
I sneered. “Did every hotel in Seattle shut down overnight?”
Isabella’s expression faltered. She bit her lip, eyes welling up with tears. “I didn’t mean to intrude. Ethan told me you wouldn’t mind, but I guess I should leave…”
Seeing her about to go, Ethan panicked.
"Claire Bennett, since when have you been so petty? Isabella’s just staying a few days—do you really have to be so sarcastic?"
"This is my home. I don’t agree to it."
"The house is mine. I decide who lives here. If you don’t like it, you can get out."
