The sigh on the other end of the line was heavy with regret. "Have you really thought this through? After all, you once gave up everything..."
I did.
Despite my parents' fierce opposition—even at the cost of severing ties with them—I had abandoned my career at its absolute zenith to marry into Harbor City.
Back then, John was a different man. To court me, he'd commuted between cities by helicopter every single day for three years. When the Weiss family disapproved, he stripped himself of his title as heir and followed me to Riverdale. Ignoring the ridicule of his peers, he worked construction, hauling steel pipes until his shoulders were raw, just to save enough for a diamond ring.
Even when I rejected his proposal and tried to break things off, he stood outside my apartment building for a year. Rain or shine, he waited—just to catch a single glimpse of me.
When I finally agreed to marry him and move to Harbor City, he bought a billion-dollar estate so I'd feel secure. When the tabloids branded me a gold digger, John stood before the cameras and declared to the world, "I was the one who begged her to marry me."
After the wedding, he treated me like royalty. I thought he was different. I thought happiness would last forever.
The illusion shattered on our fourth anniversary.
I'd spent days preparing Buddha Jumps Over the Wall—his favorite—and brought it to his office as a surprise. Instead of celebration, I walked in to find him and his secretary naked, entwined, kissing on the couch.
Something inside me snapped. I smashed everything in the office, screaming, demanding to know why.
He didn't flinch. He simply held the secretary behind him, watching me unravel with cold detachment. When I was too exhausted to cry, he slid a ten-million-dollar emerald bracelet onto my wrist.
"Michelle, isn't this what wealthy families are like?" His voice was devoid of warmth. "I thought you understood the terms when you married me."
He looked down at me, eyes hard. "You've cut ties with your parents and abandoned your career. Other than staying by my side, where else can you go?"
"Wake up. Do your job as Mrs. Weiss. I'll compensate you properly."
After that, depression swallowed me whole. The world faded into silent gray.
His mistresses came and went; eventually, I lost count. The "apology gifts" piled up until they filled an entire room. I went from agonizing heartbreak to sleepless nights, until finally—numbness.
Just when I'd gathered the resolve to divorce him, disaster struck my father's company. My father, a proud man with a failing heart, regarded that business as his life. To save him, I accepted my mother-in-law's deal: three more years at John's side.
I'd endured those three years. I should have left the moment the contract expired.
But recently, on our seventh anniversary, I let my guard down. Under the influence of alcohol, I mistook the current John for the man who used to love me. That night resulted in a pregnancy—a child now gone, lost to his cruelty.
"I've thought it through," I said into the phone, voice steady.
I hung up just as Faith walked toward me, a cup of freshly brewed tea in her hands.
"Michelle, I'm sorry." Her voice dripped with faux sweetness. "I came to apologize."
John had many mistresses, but few were like Faith. She wasn't just passing through—she wanted the crown.
I looked at her affected expression, fighting the urge to retch. "Save your acting. You don't need to waste energy scheming against me anymore. John and I are getting a divorce."
Tears instantly welled in her eyes. "That's not what I mean..."
John, who had followed her in, saw her tears and his expression darkened. He snatched the teacup from her hand, strode over, and gripped my jaw, forcing my head back.
I stared at the steam rising from the cup, panic seizing my chest.
"No..." My voice trembled as I clawed at his hand. "John, I've trained since I was six. My voice is my life! Please—"
He didn't let me finish.
"Michelle, Faith is pregnant." He tipped the cup. "This is my first child."
Scalding liquid poured down my throat, burning everything in its path.
"I won't allow you to upset her. I won't tolerate any risks to them."
