“I heard they’ve been together since childhood. Seamus dotes on his wife—the gifts he gives her are incredibly expensive, and he’s absolutely loyal to her. He’s never had another woman.”
The club was noisy, the music deafening, but all the whispers seemed to point to the same conclusion:I have a good husband.
I stood at the door and saw him immediately—Seamus.
“Is he good to you?” someone asked.
“Yes,” Pera answered casually, almost lazily.
“He just bought me a yacht a few days ago. It was a birthday present. Every year he gives me something; last year it was an estate.”
Seamus hesitated before answering.
His voice was hoarse and restrained, tinged with resentment.
“That’s good,” he said. “As long as you’re happy.”
Pera smiled faintly.
“What’s wrong with you lately? Buying me gifts every day?” Her tone was gentle, with a hint of reproach.
“You always lose money at my casino. Do you really think I didn’t notice?”
She paused, then added casually, “What would Shirley think if she knew?”
She’s always been like this—knowing something was wrong, yet accepting it without a second thought, and afterwards even finding the leisure to mock me behind my back, as if my pain were nothing more than an aftertaste.
Years ago, when Sam publicly called off our engagement, it was Pera who rushed to the hospital under the guise of concern to tell my father, and he fainted on the spot.
Afterwards, she insisted it hadn’t been intentional, her innocence so carefully rehearsed that it appeared flawless.
That day, Pera and I argued until our voices were hoarse, but when Sam finally arrived, he didn’t ask a single question or offer a single word—he simply walked past me and stood beside her.
He blamed me. Pera said she didn’t mean it, that my father was unwell at the time.
That day, I cut off all contact with Sam and Pera.
Seamus had once become my only safe haven, my only salvation, and it was only now that I finally understood how wrong I had been—he was never my savior at all, but the one who had truly killed my father.
Just then, the door was pushed open so abruptly it nearly struck me, and Seamus froze as a flicker of shock crossed his eyes.
He demanded what I was doing there, and I replied calmly that I had only wanted to talk, that he seemed busy, and that we could speak later.
He pulled me into the bathroom and rushed through his explanation, claiming he was only discussing work with her and reminding me that he knew I didn’t like her.
I cut him off softly, telling him it was alright, that we would talk once he was done, and that I would wait for him at home.
A look of relief crossed his face.
He even instructed the butler to personally escort me home.
As soon as I stepped out of the club, the noise inside grew louder, some voices openly mocking.
I ignored them and walked straight out.
After the wedding, Seamus told me he didn’t want me to work.
He wanted me to be carefree and happy.I believed him.
So I never set foot in his world again.
And then there's Pella—
Now she's a powerful female CEO, running companies across multiple industries.
Just like today.
We're worlds apart.In ability.In power.I can no longer match her.
Seamus, this is exactly what you wanted, isn't it?
Back home, I made all the necessary preparations to disappear.
All that was left was to execute the plan that night.
And then—Pella appeared.
Her face was filled with undisguised mockery.
“Shirley,” she said lazily, “you’ll never compare to me. Neither in family nor in love.”
“So—now you understand?”
“Your husband married you for me. Not because of love.”
“Your ex-fiancé didn’t love you. Your husband doesn’t love you either.”
“You’re a loser, aren’t you?”
“Three years ago, I stole your fiancé.
“Now, I’m going to steal your husband.”
I didn’t answer.
I was leaving anyway.
Nothing she said could stir a ripple in my heart.
Seeing my indifference, she intensified—hitting my weak spot.
“You’re a coward,” she sneered.
“Your father gave way to my father on the road and died because of it, and you’re not even angry? It’s pathetic.”
She knew everything.
My anger finally erupted.
I grabbed my bag and threw it at her.
I didn’t even use much force.
She staggered backward—and then fell straight into the flower bed next to the trash can.
