Chapter 2

My ankle was swollen badly, but I didn't go to the hospital. Instead, I dragged my injured leg back to that cold, empty house.

That night, James didn't come home and didn't see the message I sent him.

Calmly, I pulled out my suitcase and packed up my belongings one by one. There really wasn't much—over these years, I'd barely bought any decent clothes, trying to save money to help him start his business. As for those cheap gifts he occasionally gave me, I didn't take a single one. I threw them all in the trash.

Early the next morning, I went to the company with my printed resignation letter and divorce papers.

When James saw me, his tone was impatient."Why are you here? Doesn't your leg hurt? Why aren't you resting at home instead of running around?"

Before I could say anything, his phone rang. The name "Vivian" flashed on the screen.

James answered, his tone instantly softening. "Vivian, don't cry, take your time... What? The cat ran out when you opened the door?"

A woman's sobbing could be heard faintly from the other end.

James grabbed his car keys while comforting her: "Okay, okay, don't worry, whatever you do, don't go looking by yourself. I'll be right there. I'll help you find it, we'll definitely find it."

After hanging up, he grabbed his coat and rushed toward the door.

A wave of absurd sadness washed over me.

My ankle was puffed up like a balloon, each step bringing searing pain, yet he didn't give a hoot. But Vivian had just lost a cat, and he was all set to ditch everything at the firm to play rescue team.

"James, I need to talk to you." I forced down my disgust and stopped him, handing him the two documents. "Sign these."

He impatiently pushed my hand away, glanced at the resignation letter on top, and sneered, "Sophie, what's your game now? Threatening me with resignation at a time like this? Vivian's cat is missing. She's in a real state right now. Are you trying to send her over the edge?"

The divorce papers were underneath.

James didn't even look at the content, clearly having lost all patience.

In his eyes, this was just another one of my "attention-seeking tricks" to stop him from seeing Vivian.

"Fine, you want me to sign? I'll sign everything! Just get out of my way! A cat is also a life—how can you be so heartless?"

With a dramatic flourish, he signed both documents, pressing so hard he nearly tore through the paper, as if venting his anger at my unreasonableness.

Without even glancing at me, he brushed past and strode out of the office, off to rescue a cat that was apparently more important than his wife.

In that moment, he didn't even take the divorce papers he'd just signed, completely unaware that he'd just signed away our marriage.

The office fell quiet again. Watching his hurried departure, I felt nothing but absurdity.

I'm Sophie Smith, the only daughter of New York Circle's richest man, Robert Smith, and the sole heir to Smith Group.

Years ago, I was brainwashed by the idea of "true love above all," thinking arranged marriages were just business deals and that only a guy with nothing could offer real love. To prove this ridiculous theory, I hid my identity, broke ties with my loving father, ran away from home, and married James when he had absolutely nothing.

I lived with him in a basement, chowed down on cheap grub with him. I used the business smarts I'd picked up growing up in the Smith clan. I even sneaked around using my savings to help him rope in investors and snag clients.

And what did I get?

All my devotion meant less to him than Vivian's cat.

I picked up the now-valid divorce papers and walked out of Brown Tower.

Standing in the cold wind on the street, looking at this city I'd poured so much into, I finally dialed the number I'd blocked for eight years.

The call was answered instantly. My father's aged but excited voice came through, cautiously hopeful: "Sophie? Is that you?"

Hearing that familiar voice, all the composure I'd maintained through the night crumbled. My eyes welled up, my voice trembling:

"Dad... I want to come home."