She Got the Version of Him I Never Did

Julian Thorne's first love was back.

He not only settled her in the most secluded mansion in the hills overlooking New York,

but he also played the piano for her. That very piano he had sworn he would never touch again.

As he indulged her, letting her drink from his personal mug, I suddenly understood.

He wasn't born cold-hearted. He just wasn't warm to me.

Today was our fifth wedding anniversary.

I had canceled all my appointments and spent the day cooking all his favorite dishes.

At eight that evening, Julian called. His voice was as distant and cool as ever. "There's an urgent merger and acquisition deal at the office. I won't be home tonight. You should get some sleep."

He had chronic stomach issues, relying on medication to manage it.

I poured the warm soup, which I had kept simmering on the stove, into an insulated container and drove to Thorne Corp.

The lights in his executive office were off.

The assistant on duty saw me, his eyes darting away, stammering, unable to offer any coherent explanation.

I didn't press him. I turned and went downstairs, pulling up Julian's car's GPS location.

The red dot was stationary at a hillside estate outside New York.

It was one of Julian's private properties, one I'd never even visited.

The night wind was chilly. It took half an hour of driving winding roads to reach the destination.

The villa's front gate was ajar, spilling warm yellow light.

I pushed the door open, walked through the entryway, and the scene in the living room hit me, completely unprepared.

In front of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows stood a black Steinway grand piano.

Julian sat on the piano bench, his long fingers dancing across the black and white keys, producing a light, gentle melody.

I froze.

His right hand had been injured, once making it difficult even to hold a pen.

I'd spent a full year seeking out top doctors, massaging his hand with warm towels every night, painstakingly helping him with physical therapy.

He recovered, but afterwards, he refused to touch the piano again.

"Audrey," he'd said, "my hand hurts. I won't play anymore."

My heart ached for him, so I had the piano at home moved out and never brought it up again.

But now, his hand didn't seem to hurt at all.

Because the woman sitting beside him was watching him, a radiant smile on her face.

Serena Bell wore a silk slip dress, leaning lazily against the edge of the piano.

She casually picked up a glass of water from the piano and took a sip.

It was Julian's mug.

He was an extreme germaphobe, with territorial instincts that bordered on obsessive.

At home, if I accidentally used his cutlery, he would toss it directly into the trash.

Yet at this moment, not only was he not angry, but he stopped playing, naturally lifted his hand, and gently wiped the water from Serena's lip with his thumb.

"Drink slowly. No one is going to snatch it from you."

His voice was incredibly soft, filled with a level of indulgence and affection I had never heard directed at me.

The scene was blinding, stinging my eyes.

Julian and I had been married for five years.

He was always polite, distant, and restrained with me.

I thought he was just that kind of person, like a block of ice that couldn't be melted.

I believed that with enough patience, I could eventually warm him.

Now it seemed the ice had long melted, but it had turned into water in someone else's mug.

I took a deep breath, raised my hand, and knocked twice on the open doorframe.

"Excuse me."

The piano music stopped abruptly.

The two people near the sofa turned to look at me simultaneously.

Serena gasped, flinching back like a startled fawn.

Julian's face instantly darkened.

He instinctively stood up, shielding Serena behind him.

That protective posture, so practiced, sent a chill through me.

"How did you find this place?" He frowned, his tone full of accusation and displeasure.

I walked in, carrying the insulated container, and placed it on the coffee table.

"I came to bring you your stomach medicine. But it seems, Mr. Thorne, your appetite is doing quite well right now; you don't need this."

Julian's gaze swept over the container, a flicker of discomfort in his eyes, but it quickly returned to cold rigidity.

"Company matters finished early. Serena just got back to the country and is a bit unstable emotionally. I came to check on her."

"Emotionally unstable?" I tugged at the corner of my mouth, my gaze moving past him to Serena. "Does it require drinking from the same mug to cure? Which hospital prescribes that kind of remedy? I'd love to learn."

Serena bit her lower lip, her eyes instantly welling up.

"Audrey, please don't misunderstand. I was just thirsty and didn't realize I grabbed the wrong mug. There's nothing going on between Julian and me; it's completely innocent."

Her aggrieved, innocent act made me look like an irrational shrew.

I let out a cold laugh. "Completely innocent? A man and a woman, alone in a secluded villa late at night, playing piano and sharing drinks? You call that innocent? Ms. Bell, your definition of 'innocent' seems a little too flexible."

"Audrey Hayes!" Julian cut me off sharply. "Watch your tone. Serena has severe depression and can't handle stress."

"She can't handle stress, but I can?"

I met Julian's eyes, asking each word distinctly. "Today is our fifth wedding anniversary. You lied to me, saying you were working late at the office, only to be here playing therapist for her?"

Julian was silent for two seconds, then softened his tone slightly. "It's just an anniversary. We can celebrate later. Go home first; don't make a scene here."

A scene?

In his eyes, my coming to find my husband was "making a scene."

I looked at the piano, and suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of absurdity.

"Your hand wasn't able to play the piano anymore, was it?"

Julian's body stiffened, his fingers at his side curling slightly.

"Understood." I nodded, then swept the insulated container directly into the nearby trash can.

With a dull thud, the soup spilled all over the floor.

"It wasn't that you couldn't play; it's that you didn't want to play for me. Julian Thorne, you disgust me."

With that, I turned and walked away.

Julian strode after me, grabbing my wrist.

His grip was strong, squeezing my bones painfully.

"What's wrong with you?" he growled, suppressing his anger.

I violently shook off his hand, stepping back in disgust.

"Don't touch me. You're dirty."

I walked out of the villa without looking back.

The mountain wind blew against me, carrying the chill of late autumn, instantly piercing my thin coat.

I pulled open the car door and got in, gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white.

My stomach churned.

I pushed the car door open and squatted by the roadside, dry heaving.

Nothing came up but bitter stomach acid burning my throat.

Five years of marriage, over eighteen hundred days and nights, had turned into a complete joke tonight.

I'd always thought Julian was an emotionless person.

He didn't laugh loudly, didn't get angry, and even in bed, he maintained a precise rhythm and restraint.

I tolerated his aloofness, grew accustomed to his rules, and even changed my style of dress and daily habits to cater to his preferences.

I believed this was our way of being together.

It wasn't until tonight that I saw a vibrant side of him.

He would lie for a woman, play the piano for her, and glare at me because of a single tear from her.

The difference between love and indifference was so stark.

I didn't return to the house filled with Julian's presence. Instead, I drove to my small, older apartment, a bit run-down, that I'd bought in college.

It wasn't large, but every piece of furniture was hand-picked by me, filling it with a cozy and lived-in vibe.

As I opened the door, the scent of dust greeted me.

I didn't even turn on the lights, collapsing onto the sofa fully clothed, my eyes open until dawn.

The next morning, the sound of the lock turning echoed through the apartment.

Julian walked in.

He was wearing the same custom-tailored suit from yesterday, the creases still in the same place; clearly, he hadn't slept at home.

He carried a cake from my favorite bakery in the South End, his expression normal as he walked to the dining table and set it down.

"Get up and eat something."

His tone was so calm, as if nothing had happened last night.

I sat up, watching him coldly.

"How did you get in?"

"The password hasn't changed, so of course, I could get in." Julian unbuttoned his suit jacket, sat on the single armchair, and frowned slightly. "I can explain what happened last night."

"No need," I interrupted him. "I don't want to hear it."

Julian's face hardened a few shades.

"Audrey Hayes, can't you stop being so stubborn? Serena went through something overseas years ago; she has severe psychological trauma. She has no family or friends in this city. As a friend, it's perfectly reasonable for me to look after her."

"Friend?" I chewed on the word, finding it utterly ridiculous. "What kind of friend needs you to lie to your wife in the middle of the night to spend time with them? What kind of friend gets to drink from your mug? Julian, do you take me for a fool?"

"I already said, it was an accident!" His voice rose, tinged with irritation. "Do you have to cling to this trivial matter?"

Trivial matter.

In his eyes, deception and betrayal were just "trivial matters."

I suddenly felt exhausted, lacking the energy even to argue.

"Say whatever you want," I stood up, walked to the window, and pulled back the curtains, letting the glaring sunlight stream in. "Julian, let's get a divorce."

The room fell into an instant, heavy silence.

Julian stared at me, his gaze gradually turning sharp and icy.

"What did you say?"

"I said, divorce." I turned to face him, calmly meeting his eyes. "Let's end things amicably before it gets too ugly."

Julian abruptly stood up, his tall frame looming over me with an oppressive presence.

"Audrey Hayes, don't throw around the word 'divorce.' It's not funny."

"I'm not joking." I looked at his tense jawline. "I'll grant you your freedom. You can openly care for your severely depressed patient without needing to make excuses to lie to me anymore."

"Impossible!" Julian gritted his teeth.

He grabbed my shoulders, his grip so tight it felt like he might crush my bones.

"You want to divorce me over this misunderstanding? Audrey Hayes, what kind of tantrum are you throwing?"

I forcefully broke free from his grasp, stepping back two paces to create distance.

"Misunderstanding? Julian, can you look me in the eye and say you only have platonic feelings for Serena Bell?"

His thin lips were pressed tight; he said nothing.

Silence was the best answer.

I managed a sarcastic laugh.

"See? You can't even be bothered to lie to me anymore. If your heart belongs to someone else, why keep me tied to your side? Let me go, and let yourself go."

"I said, divorce is not an option." Julian took a deep breath, forcing down his anger. "Stay here for a while to cool down. I'll come pick you up when you've thought things through."

With that, he turned and strode out, his retreating figure exuding an undeniable forcefulness.

The loud bang of the door closing plunged the room back into silence.

I looked at the cake on the table and unhesitatingly threw it into the trash.

Cool down?

I was perfectly calm.

Calmer than any moment in the past five years.

The silent treatment had officially begun.

I didn't return to the villa, and Julian didn't come looking for me again.

He probably assumed that if he just ignored me for a few days, I'd be the one to back down and make peace, dutifully returning to his side, just like before.

After all, for five years, I was always the one to compromise first.

But not this time.

I poured all my energy into my company.

Apex Tech, a startup, was founded by me and a few seniors after college.

Years ago, our funding dried up, and we were on the brink of bankruptcy. It was Julian who stepped in with an investment, bringing the company back from the dead.

Now, Apex Tech was back on track and preparing for a new round of financing.

I was swamped with work every day, trying to numb myself with endless tasks.

Until Friday afternoon, when my assistant, Sarah, knocked on my office door.

"Ms. Hayes, have you seen the news?" Sarah handed me her tablet, her expression complicated.

The screen displayed an entertainment gossip headline.

"Thorne Corp. CEO Splurges on 'Tears of the Ocean' for a Mystery Woman."

The accompanying image was a blurred profile shot.

Julian, dressed in a custom black tuxedo, was leaning down to fasten a sparkling sapphire necklace around the woman's neck.

I'd recognize that woman's figure anywhere.

It was Serena Bell.

And that "Tears of the Ocean" necklace was an exhibit I'd looked at for a moment too long at a gala Julian and I attended last month.

I'd casually remarked that it was beautiful.

Julian, however, had coolly commented, "It's too flashy. It doesn't suit you."

It wasn't that it didn't suit me; it was that it didn't suit him to buy it for me.

Now, that flashy necklace adorned the neck of his long-cherished first love.

"Ms. Hayes, this..." Sarah looked at me cautiously.

"It's fine. You can go." I pushed the tablet back, my voice so calm it surprised even myself.

Did it hurt?

It felt like the pain had numbed me.

I opened my laptop, pulled up a divorce agreement I'd drafted long ago, filled in the date, and printed two copies.

If he wouldn't end things amicably, I'd make him.

At 3 PM, I took the agreement to Thorne Corp.

This time, I wasn't stopped downstairs. The receptionist respectfully called me "Mrs. Thorne" and let me pass directly.

I pushed open the door to the executive office. Julian was listening to an executive report.

Seeing me enter, he raised a hand, signaling the executive to leave.

Only the two of us remained in the office.

Julian leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on my face, seemingly assessing my state over the past few days.

"Have you come to your senses?" he asked nonchalantly, his tone carrying an arrogant certainty that he was in control.

I walked to his desk and slapped the divorce agreement down in front of him.

"Sign it. Let's get a divorce."

Julian's gaze landed on the bold black letters "DIVORCE AGREEMENT," and his face instantly darkened.

Without even looking at the contents, he picked it up and tore it in half right in front of me.

"I told you, no divorce."

The shredded paper was casually tossed into the wastebasket.

I expressionlessly opened my bag, took out another copy, and placed it before him.

"It's alright. I printed plenty."

Julian's eye twitched, and he tore it up again.

I kept taking them out.

He kept tearing them.

Until I produced the twelfth copy of the agreement.

Julian finally lost his patience, abruptly stood up, braced his hands on the desk, and glared at me.

"Audrey Hayes, are you ever going to stop? It's just a necklace; do you really need to make such a scene?"

"A necklace?" I laughed. "Julian, do you really think if you toss me a crumb of your patience, I should be grateful and continue being your perfect wife? You use my affection to fawn over another woman, and you expect me to applaud magnanimously?"

"I bought that necklace because Serena needs it for an important gala she's attending! She needs to make a good impression!"

"She needs to make a good impression, so you use something I admire to boost her image?" I met his gaze without backing down. "Julian, stop making excuses for your favoritism. Just sign it. It'll be better for everyone."

Julian clenched his jaw tightly, his chest heaving.

He looked at my resolute eyes, seemingly finally realizing that I wasn't playing hard to get.

I followed him, neither of us speaking, as we drove separately to the courthouse.

There weren't many people applying for divorce in the afternoon.

Soon, it was our turn.

The clerk checked our documents and, as per routine, asked, "Irreconcilable differences, confirm you want to divorce?"

"Confirmed," I answered without hesitation.

The clerk turned to Julian. "And you, sir? Are you sure?"

Julian sat in the chair, his jaw as rigid as iron.

He stared at the divorce petition in front of him, his pen hovering, never quite touching the paper.

Time ticked by, second by second.

The clerk grew a bit impatient. "Sir, if you haven't made up your mind, you can always go back and reconsider."

Julian suddenly flung his pen down and abruptly stood up.

The chair scraped against the floor with a harsh sound.

"I won't divorce."

He dropped those three cold words, then turned and walked out.

I froze for a second, then rage shot through me.

"Julian, what game are you playing!"

I grabbed my bag and chased after him, blocking his path.

"Are you insane? You signed the papers, you brought me here, and now, at the finish line, you're backing out?"

Julian looked down at me, his eyes as deep and lifeless as stagnant water.

"I changed my mind. Is that not allowed?"

His righteous attitude made me laugh in anger.

"Why? If you care about Serena so much, why won't you divorce me to make room for her? Keeping me as your legal wife, forcing her to be a mistress in the shadows her whole life. Is that your love for her?"

"Shut up." Julian roared, a vein throbbing faintly on his temple. "Serena and I don't have that kind of relationship. I promised to take care of you for life, and I won't break my word. The position of Mrs. Thorne can only be yours."

Take care of me for life?

That declaration, which once moved me to tears, now sounded utterly chilling.

"Your 'care' is treating me like a trophy wife, then pouring all your emotions and energy into another woman?" I looked at him coldly. "Julian, I don't need your pity. I'm divorcing you, no matter what."

I didn't bother with him anymore, turning to walk towards my car.

Since an amicable divorce wasn't possible, I would have to sue.

The next morning, I went straight to my lawyer and filed a divorce petition with the court.

I thought this would be a long, drawn-out battle.

But I underestimated Julian's methods, and I overestimated my own leverage.

On the third day after filing the lawsuit, Apex Tech ran into trouble.

The company's largest supplier suddenly announced a unilateral termination of our contract. Immediately after, two investment firms that had agreed to fund us simultaneously pulled out, and even the bank froze our loan facility.

In just one day, the company's funding completely dried up.

My partners were frantic, calling me one after another.

"Ms. Hayes, what's going on? The supplier is even willing to pay the breach of contract penalty; they're determined to cut ties with us!"

"The investors said they received a 'message from above' and couldn't fund us anymore."

I sat in my office, looking at the continually flashing red numbers on my computer screen, feeling a chill run through me.

In this industry, only one person had such immense power and could precisely squeeze Apex Tech's lifeline.

Julian.

He didn't even bother to conceal his actions, openly telling me: he could crush me as easily as an ant.

I grabbed my car keys and sped all the way to Thorne Corp.

This time, I didn't knock; I pushed open the door to the executive office directly.

Julian was sitting behind his large desk, a cup of coffee in his hand, casually reading a document.

Seeing me rush in, out of breath, he didn't even lift an eyelid.

"Julian, you're despicable!" I charged to his desk, slamming my hands on the surface. "How dare you mess with my company?"

Julian put down his coffee cup, leaned back slightly, and looked at me calmly.

"I merely reclaimed the resources I once provided. You know perfectly well whose help Apex Tech owes its success to."

His voice was devoid of emotion, yet every word stung.

Yes, Apex Tech had survived back then because of Thorne Corp.'s investment.

Over the years, many partners had given us preferential treatment out of respect for Julian.

I thought my career was something I had built through my own hard work and struggle, but it had always been under his wing.

He could take it all back at any time.

"What do you want?" I asked, gritting my teeth.

"Withdraw the lawsuit," Julian said, his long fingers lightly tapping the desk. "Then move back home. As long as you're obedient, Apex Tech will be back to normal tomorrow."

He looked at me as if I were a pet throwing a tantrum.

Cut off my food supply, and I'd surely return to my cage.

I glared at him, my fingernails digging deep into my palms, using the pain to maintain the last shred of my sanity.

"What if I don't?"

Julian let out a faint laugh, but his eyes were chillingly cold.

"Then Apex Tech won't survive this week. Your partners, those seniors who started the company with you, will be saddled with massive debts and never recover. Audrey Hayes, can you bear to drag them down with you?"

He knew me too well.

He knew I was loyal, knew I couldn't sacrifice others' hard work for my own marital problems.

He had me completely trapped.

My chest felt like it was stuffed with waterlogged cotton, making it hard to breathe.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and when I opened them again, only the dead calm of compromise remained.

"Fine, I'll withdraw the lawsuit," I heard my voice, hoarse and unfamiliar. "I'll move back today."

A flicker of satisfaction crossed Julian's eyes.

"That's better, isn't it?" He stood up, walked over to me, and reached out to touch my hair.

I turned my head, avoiding his touch.

His hand froze in mid-air, his face slightly darkened.

"Don't touch me," I said coldly. "Julian, you won. But I'm telling you, you've only kept a shell."

I moved back into the hillside villa.

The moment I stepped through the front door, that suffocating sense of oppression washed over me again.

The piano in the living room was still in its original spot, silently mocking my helplessness.

I didn't take my luggage into the master bedroom. Instead, I walked directly to the most secluded guest room on the first floor.

Julian followed me. Seeing my actions, his brows immediately furrowed.

"What are you doing?"

"Sleeping," I pushed my suitcase into a corner, then turned to face him. "Mr. Thorne, you only asked me to move back; you didn't specify which bed I had to sleep in, did you?"

Julian's face was so dark it looked like it could drip ink.

He strode over, grabbed my wrist, and tried to pull me out.

"Go back to the master bedroom! What would it look like if a married couple slept in separate rooms?"

"Is there any dignity left between us?" I struggled against his grip, glaring at him coldly. "That bed is full of your disgusting lies; I find it repulsive. If you're unhappy, you're welcome to bankrupt Apex Tech right now!"

Julian's actions froze.

He looked at the undisguised disgust and resolve in my eyes, his jawline clenched to the extreme.

They stood there, locked in a stalemate, for a full minute.

Finally, he roughly flung my hand away and scoffed.

"Suit yourself."

He turned and strode off, his retreating back radiating furious irritation.

I locked the guest room door, then slid down the doorframe, collapsing onto the floor, completely drained.

First round, I had lost completely.

But I knew this was only a temporary compromise.

Over the next few days, Julian and I lived under the same roof but existed in two separate worlds.

I left early and returned late, trying to avoid him.

When we occasionally met in the dining room, I treated him as if he were thin air, not even sparing him a glance.

Julian tried to mend things in his usual condescending way.

He would have his assistant send expensive jewelry, have the kitchen prepare my favorite dishes, and even knock on the guest room door at night.

But my response was always a locked door and icy silence.

He was accustomed to my obedience. Faced with my unyielding attitude, his patience was rapidly running out.

And I wasn't idle either.

I returned to the company and called a meeting with a few key partners.

"I plan to bring in new investment firms, dilute Thorne Corp.'s shares, and gradually strip Thorne Corp. of its control over Apex Tech."

I pushed a detailed financing plan in front of them.

The conference room fell silent.

The partners exchanged glances; no one reached for the plan.

"Audrey," Michael, the eldest senior, rubbed his hands, looking troubled, "actually, Mr. Thorne has already reinstated the cooperation, and the funds are in place. To provoke him now would be too risky."

"That's right," another partner chimed in. "Thorne Corp.'s resources are unparalleled. Besides, husband and wife make up in bed. Since Mr. Thorne is willing to compromise, you shouldn't be too stubborn."

I looked at their evasive eyes, a wave of sadness washing over me.

"He's not compromising; he's using you to threaten me." I took a deep breath, trying to make them understand the gravity of the situation. "As long as Thorne Corp. is involved, Apex Tech will always be his puppet. Today he can cut off our funding; tomorrow he can kick us out!"

"It's not that serious, is it?" Michael forced a dry laugh. "What man doesn't have a few flings? Mr. Thorne is just playing around. As long as he hasn't committed a cardinal sin, you can just turn a blind eye. It's not worth jeopardizing the company over this."

Turn a blind eye.

So, in their eyes, my dignity and boundaries were worthless in the face of profit.

I looked at this group of comrades who had once stayed up all night coding with me, eaten instant noodles, and vowed to build a great business. Suddenly, they felt utterly foreign.

Our paths diverged.

I retrieved the plan and stood up.

"Since we disagree, I won't force it." I looked at them calmly. "I will sell all my shares and withdraw from Apex Tech."

The conference room instantly erupted.

"Audrey, are you crazy? This is your life's work!"

"If you leave, what will happen to the company?"

I ignored their pleas and accusations, turning to walk out of the conference room.

What if it was my life's work?

If this hard-earned achievement became the shackles Julian used to trap me, I'd rather destroy it with my own hands.

I would sever all ties to him, leaving him completely and cleanly.

Once the decision to leave Apex Tech was made, I acted quickly.

I didn't contact any industry magnates who had connections with Julian. Instead, I secretly reached out to several out-of-state venture capital firms and competitors.

My shares were tempting, but taking them on meant potentially offending Julian, so negotiations were not smooth.

To expedite the sale, I proactively lowered the price, seeking only a swift resolution.

Half a month later, I finally reached an agreement with a conglomerate from Hong Kong.

On the day of signing, the Hong Kong representative looked at me, somewhat puzzled.

"Ms. Hayes, Apex Tech's momentum is excellent right now. You're cashing out at this price, which is a significant loss."

I signed my name, capped my pen, and smiled faintly.

"Some things are more important than money."

Like freedom, like a bottom line that could no longer be manipulated.

The moment the funds were transferred, I let out a long sigh of relief.

I returned to Apex Tech one last time, placing the share transfer agreement in front of my partners.

They looked at the official seals on the document, their faces turning pale.

"Audrey Hayes, you actually sold your shares? You sold us out to outsiders!" Michael, the senior partner, angrily pointed at me.

"I gave you a choice; you chose Julian," I said, calmly looking at their angry faces. "Now I'm out. You can rest easy clinging to Thorne Corp.'s leg. I wish you all the best."

I didn't take a single thing from the company, only my personal laptop.

Stepping out of the office building, the sunlight was a bit dazzling.

I glanced back at the "Apex Tech" logo atop the building, feeling no regret, only liberation.

Now, between Julian and me, only a marriage certificate remained.

I found a quiet coffee shop, preparing to call my lawyer to restart the divorce proceedings.

Just as my coffee arrived, the chair opposite me was pulled out.

A pungent scent of perfume wafted over.

I looked up and saw Serena Bell.

Today she was dressed in a Chanel haute couture suit, her makeup flawless, completely devoid of the helpless, depressed patient appearance she'd worn that night.

"Audrey Hayes, you certainly have a lot of free time on your hands," Serena said, taking off her sunglasses, looking down at me with blatant provocation in her eyes.

I took a sip of my coffee, not even sparing her a direct glance.

"Ms. Bell, what can I do for you? If you're here to discuss your condition, there's a psychiatric hospital around the corner to your left; it's more suitable for you."

Serena's face stiffened for a moment, then she let out a cold laugh.

"You don't need to be so sharp-tongued with me. I came here today to ask you, when exactly are you going to divorce Julian? Don't you feel ashamed monopolizing the position of Mrs. Thorne?"

I put down my coffee cup and looked at her with interest.

"No, I don't feel ashamed. After all, I'm legitimate, protected by law. As for you, running here in broad daylight to make demands, what's wrong? Did Julian not satisfy you last night, leaving you feeling frustrated?"

"You!" Serena's chest heaved with anger, and she gritted her teeth. "Julian spent the whole night with me! He doesn't love you at all, so why are you clinging to him so shamelessly?"

"Is that so?" I chuckled lightly, my tone full of mockery. "Then you'd better try harder to get him to sign the divorce papers soon, instead of just sitting on it. After all, he's the one who refused to sign, even threatening my company to make me move back. If you've got the guts, get him to come to court with me today."

Serena's face turned from green to pale as I hit a nerve.

She glared at me, then suddenly started laughing, her smile twisted with a cruel triumph.

"Audrey Hayes, you're truly pathetic. Do you really think Julian won't divorce you because he can't bear to let you go?"

She leaned forward, lowering her voice.

"Do you really think a privileged golden boy like him would take an interest in an orphan like you, who had nothing? Do you think your meeting, his salvation of you back then, were all mere coincidences?"

I frowned slightly, a bad premonition rising in my gut.

"What do you mean?"

Serena looked at me, her eyes glinting with malice.

"Want to know? Then beg me."

I looked at her smug, petty face, and my disgust reached its peak.

"If you don't want to say, then don't. It'll just choke you."

I stood up, picked up my bag, and prepared to leave.

"Audrey Hayes, stop right there!" Serena cried out, scrambling up to block me. "Don't you want to know how your brother, Ryan Hayes, really died?"

At the mention of that name, my steps froze.

My blood seemed to turn to ice.