My Ex Begged, But I Married His Rival

Are you done making a scene, Chloe?

Julian wrapped his arm around Scarlett's shoulders, shielding her like she was some priceless treasure. He didn't even glance at the blisters forming on the back of my hand.

I just stood there, the searing pain on my skin pulsing through my entire arm.

Twelve years. I saved Julian's life from a gang of street thugs when I was only twelve. And now, I was standing in the back kitchen of his engagement party, cooking soup for another woman.

How pathetic. This recipe used to be exclusively his. Now, he called my cooking dirty and my love cheap.

He claimed it was just a business marriage. He promised he would divorce her and remarry me in two years, saying I could still be his woman in secret.

But looking at the burn on my hand, I tasted copper in my mouth.

I finally woke up. The special treatment he once gave me could be taken back at any second.

Chloe's POV

"Today's slow-cooked wild mushroom soup is specially made for my husband. He has a sensitive stomach, and this is the best comfort food for him."

Facing the camera, I wore my favorite linen apron and smiled as I lifted the lid of the pot.

Steam swirled up, carrying a rich, savory aroma through the kitchen.

The live chat on my TikTok stream instantly blew up.

"Another day of being jealous of Chloe and Mr. Vance!"

"Julian is so lucky to have a wife who cooks like a Michelin-star chef!"

"Today is their third anniversary, right? I bet Mr. Vance has a massive surprise waiting for her!"

Looking at the comments, I couldn't help but smile.

Yes, three years of marriage.

For today, I turned down all my brand deals. I spent the entire afternoon working in this high-tech, ten-million-dollar kitchen Julian had custom-built for me.

Julian Vance, the CEO of Vance Enterprises in New York, and my husband of three years. We kept our marriage private to protect his public image.

In the business world, they said Julian was ruthless, cold-blooded, and calculated.

But only I knew how incredibly sweet he could be.

If I casually mentioned wanting a pastry from a bakery across town, he would drive through a heavy rainstorm just to get it for me.

When my cooking failed, he would eat every last bite without even blinking, smiling and telling me I was improving.

He once told me, "Chloe, just focus on doing what you love. I'll handle everything else."

"That's all for tonight's stream, guys. I'm going to wait for my husband to come home now. Goodnight, everyone."

I ended the stream and looked at the clock on the wall.

11:00 PM.

I had reheated the dinner three times already. Julian still wasn't home.

He hadn't even sent a single text.

I picked up my phone to call him, but before I could dial, an Instagram notification popped up.

"BREAKING: Billionaire CEO Julian Vance Spotted on a Late-Night Date with Heiress Scarlett Sterling. Engagement Rumors Confirmed?"

My hand shook violently.

I tapped the link. At the top of the article was a high-definition paparazzi photo.

Inside a luxury Michelin-starred restaurant, Julian was wearing the custom Tom Ford suit I had personally ironed for him this morning. He was leaning in, cutting a steak for a beautiful woman.

His eyes were incredibly gentle, a look I thought he only gave to me.

That woman was Scarlett Sterling, the sole heiress to the Sterling Group.

Even more blinding was the massive pink diamond ring sparkling on Scarlett's finger.

I had seen the blueprint of that exact ring in Julian's study two weeks ago.

At the time, I thought it was my third-anniversary gift.

Turns out, it was an engagement ring for someone else.

The front door clicked open.

Julian walked in, bringing the cold night air with him.

He loosened his tie. When he saw me sitting motionless at the dining table, he frowned slightly.

"Why are you still up?"

He walked over and leaned down to kiss my forehead.

I jerked my head away, dodging him.

A heavy, sweet scent of rose perfume. Another woman's perfume. It hit my nose.

It made me want to throw up.

Julian's hand froze in mid-air, his expression darkening instantly. "Chloe, what are you throwing a tantrum for now?"

"What is going on with you and Scarlett Sterling?" I looked up at him, my eyes red and my voice trembling.

Julian paused for a second, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You saw the news?"

He pulled out a chair and sat down, his tone as casual as if he were talking about the weather.

"The company needs the Sterling family's backing for our new project. It's a strategic merger. A marriage of convenience. There are no feelings involved."

A marriage of convenience?

I let out a bitter laugh. "A marriage of convenience? Julian, we are legally married! You're going to marry someone else, so what am I to you?"

"Chloe, be reasonable."

He reached out to grab my hand, but I slapped it away.

"We don't need to actually break up. We just file for a paper divorce. Once the project stabilizes in two years, I'll end the marriage with her and we'll get married again."

He looked at me, his eyes filled with a patronizing tenderness.

"Just deal with it for two years. You can still live here. You'll still be my woman. I'll give you everything you want, except the title of Mrs. Vance for now."

I stared at him in absolute disbelief.

Twelve years of knowing him, three years of marriage.

He used to treat me like a princess. Now, he was asking me to be his hidden mistress.

"Julian, you want me to be your side piece?"

"Don't put it so dirtily," Julian's face turned completely cold. "I told you, you're the only one I love. Scarlett is just a business transaction. I won't touch her."

"What if I say no?" I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

Julian stood up, towering over me, his eyes ice-cold.

"Chloe, don't be childish. Without me, your TikTok account, your cooking studio. All of it would be shut down in a day."

"I am letting you know my decision, not asking for your permission."

With that, he turned and walked into the bathroom, not even glancing at the dinner I had spent all afternoon preparing.

The bathroom door slammed shut.

I collapsed back into my chair, staring at the cold food. Finally, my tears spilled over.

The love he gave me could indeed be taken back at any moment.

Chloe's POV

That night, Julian slept in the guest bedroom.

By the time I came downstairs the next morning, he was already gone.

On the kitchen island sat a stack of divorce papers and an black American Express card.

According to the documents, he was leaving me the penthouse, my studio, and several other properties.

His compensation was generous and neat.

But seeing his signature, "Julian Vance," at the bottom of the page only made my stomach turn.

I didn't sign it. I threw the entire file straight into the trash can.

For the next two weeks, Julian never came home.

He was using the silent treatment to force me into submission.

Meanwhile, on Instagram, the trending topics about him and Scarlett changed every single day.

#JulianAndScarlettYachtParty

#JulianVanceSplurgesMillionsOnFiancee

#ScarlettSterlingSoonToBeMrsVance

Every headline felt like a dull knife carving into my heart.

I forced myself to focus on work.

In the studio, my assistant, Penny, looked at my pale face with worry. "Chloe, are you okay? Maybe you should take a few days off."

"I'm fine," I forced a smile. "Did we prepare the ingredients for today's vegetable soup video?"

"Yes, it's been simmering on the stove for eight hours."

I habitually reached for a bowl to taste the broth.

Just then, the glass door of the studio was pushed open.

The sharp click of high heels echoed on the hardwood floor.

"So, this is Chloe Lynn's studio? Honestly, it's a bit cheap."

I looked up and saw Scarlett Sterling walking in, wearing sunglasses, flanked by a group of burly bodyguards.

She was dressed in head-to-toe Chanel couture, carrying a limited-edition Hermes bag. She looked like a walking billboard for luxury brands.

"What are you doing here?" I asked coldly.

Scarlett took off her sunglasses, scanning me from head to toe with a mocking sneer.

"Just wanted to see what Julian's little pet looks like in person."

She walked over to the stove, looking at the bubbling pot of soup, and pinched her nose in disgust.

"Smells like trash. Chloe, don't you know? Julian's tastes have changed. He only eats food prepared by three-star Michelin chefs now. He's sick of this garbage you make."

My fingers clenched tightly into my palms, my nails digging into my skin.

"Miss Sterling, this is my private studio. You are not welcome here. Please leave."

"Feisty, aren't we?" Scarlett sneered. Suddenly, she reached out and picked up the bowl of hot soup I had just poured.

"Let me taste what kind of magic soup kept Julian amused for so long."

But as soon as she lifted the bowl, she suddenly let go.

"Oops!"

The boiling liquid splashed directly onto the back of my hand, and the rest shattered on the floor.

The sound of breaking ceramic was deafening in the quiet studio.

"Ah!"

I gasped in agony. The back of my hand turned instantly red, blisters blooming on my skin.

"Chloe!" Penny cried out, rushing to grab ice water.

Scarlett, however, took two steps back, putting on a show of being terrified.

"Chloe! What is wrong with you? I just wanted to try your soup, and you threw it at me?"

"That's a lie! You dropped it on purpose!" Penny yelled angrily.

"What's going on here?"

A deep, cold voice came from the doorway.

My whole body went rigid. I looked up and saw Julian walking in with fast, angry strides.

The moment Scarlett saw him, her eyes welled up with tears. She threw herself into his arms.

"Julian, thank God you're here. I just wanted to visit Chloe and try her soup, but she suddenly snapped and threw the boiling soup at me. It almost burned my face..."

Julian's eyes swept over the broken mess on the floor, finally landing on me.

He saw my blistered, red hand. His eyes flickered with a brief moment of hesitation, but it was quickly replaced by cold disappointment.

"Are you done making a scene, Chloe?"

His voice was heavy with disgust.

"Scarlett came here out of goodwill, and this is how you treat her? Since when did you become so violent?"

I stared at him, my heart freezing over.

My hand was badly burned, my body trembling from the pain.

Yet, he didn't even ask if I was okay. He immediately declared me guilty.

"Are you blind, Julian? She threw it herself!" I choked out, my eyes burning with unshed tears.

"Enough!" Julian cut me off harshly. "Scarlett was raised in a gentle family. She would never do something so trashy. Stop lying, Chloe."

He wrapped his arm around Scarlett's shoulder, holding her like she was a fragile glass doll.

"If you don't sign the divorce papers, I have other ways to make you do it. Stop testing my patience."

With that, he guided Scarlett out of the studio without looking back.

I stood there, watching their retreating figures. Tears finally streamed down my face, dripping onto the shattered ceramic on the floor.

My hand burned like hell.

But it didn't compare to the pain in my chest.

Chloe's POV

My hand blistered badly. Penny cried as she applied soothing ointment to my skin.

"How could Mr. Vance do this... He used to freak out if you even nicked your finger with a paring knife."

I stared blankly at my bandaged hand.

Yes, the past.

Once, when a drop of hot oil splashed on my wrist, Julian had literally replaced every single pan in the kitchen with professional-grade safety gear.

Now, half a bowl of boiling soup was dumped on me, and his only concern was comforting another woman's fake trauma.

A man's love really could vanish overnight.

"It's fine. It'll heal," I pulled my hand back, my voice dangerously calm.

I thought that was the worst Julian could do.

But I underestimated how ruthless billionaires could be.

The next morning, I was woken up by Penny's frantic phone call.

"Chloe! Turn on your phone! Look at TikTok right now!"

My stomach dropped. I opened the app.

The number one trending search was a hashtag with my name:

#ChloeLynnPoisonPans

I tapped on it. It was a video posted by a massive product-testing influencer with millions of followers.

In the video, the influencer was crying, claiming that after using the co-branded non-stick pan I had heavily promoted on my channel, the chemical coating peeled off, causing her family to be hospitalized with severe food poisoning.

She showed medical reports and photos of the flaking pan.

The comment section was a war zone.

"I trusted you! You promoted toxic garbage just for a paycheck!"

"You should be in jail!"

"Cancel this greedy influencer!"

I went cold.

That non-stick pan was manufactured by a subsidiary of Vance Enterprises.

Julian had personally handed me the product, assuring me that the quality was top-notch and asking me to help boost their sales.

Because of my absolute trust in him, I had used my own reputation to vouch for it.

How could this happen?

I immediately called the brand's PR team, but the line was busy.

In desperation, I called Julian.

It rang for a long time before he finally answered. His voice was distant. "What is it?"

"What's going on with the non-stick pans? Why are people getting food poisoning from the coating?" I asked frantically.

Silence stretched over the line for a few seconds.

"There was a minor issue on the production line. The quality control check failed," Julian said flatly.

I felt like I had been hit by lightning. "You knew? You knew there was an issue and you didn't tell me? My followers are dragging me to hell right now!"

"Calm down, Chloe," Julian's voice carried a hint of annoyance. "Mistakes happen in business."

"Then what are we doing about it? The company needs to issue a recall and clear my name immediately!"

"No," Julian refused without hesitation.

"Why?!"

"I just transferred that subsidiary to Scarlett as part of her engagement gift," Julian said, his voice smooth and cold. "The Sterling Group is going public next week. They cannot have any negative press right now."

My breath caught in my throat. It felt like icy water was being poured down my spine.

"So... to protect Scarlett's reputation, you're making me take the fall?"

"You're just a food influencer. Post an apology, take a break from social media for a while, and this will blow over," Julian said, his tone dripping with casual arrogance. "I will compensate you tenfold for your financial losses. Just be a good girl and don't make trouble for me right now."

"Julian Vance!" I screamed. "That channel is my life's work! My reputation! How dare you ruin me just to protect her?!"

"I can do it because everything you have was given to you by me."

Julian's voice was ice.

"Get a grip on reality, Chloe. At 3:00 PM, my PR team will use your login credentials to post the apology. You better cooperate."

The line went dead.

I sat on the cold floor, clutching my phone.

Looking at the vile, hateful comments flooding my screen, my stomach suddenly churned.

I ran to the bathroom and threw up violently in the toilet.

I threw up until there was nothing left but bile and tears.

At 3:00 PM, my Instagram and TikTok accounts automatically posted a pre-written statement, taking full responsibility for the faulty pans and announcing my indefinite hiatus.

In an instant, I went from a beloved food creator to a pariah.

My sponsors pulled out, leaving me with millions of dollars in breach-of-contract fines.

I locked myself in the kitchen, mechanically chopping vegetables.

I wanted to make a simple pasta.

But when I put the food in my mouth, I froze.

Nothing.

No acidity, no sweetness, no saltiness. Nothing.

In a panic, I grabbed the salt shaker, poured a handful of salt into my palm, and licked it.

Still nothing.

The extreme trauma and absolute despair had taken away the most precious thing I possessed as a cook. My sense of taste.

I stared at the salt on my hands and began to laugh hysterically.

And as I laughed, my tears fell into the white grains.

Julian Vance, you won.

You didn't just kill my love. You destroyed my dreams and my entire life.

Chloe's POV

I don't even know how I survived that night.

The next day, I put on a thick layer of makeup to hide my ghost-like paleness and took a cab to the Vance Enterprises headquarters.

The door to the CEO's office was slightly open.

As I approached, I heard laughter from inside.

"Julian, this macaron is so sweet. Try a bite."

It was Scarlett's voice.

Then came Julian's low, indulgent chuckle. "I don't like sweets. You eat it."

"No, you have to try it."

I pushed the door open.

On the leather sofa, Scarlett was sitting on Julian's lap, holding a pink macaron to his lips.

Julian hadn't refused. He was holding her hand, taking a bite.

Hearing the door, they both turned.

Seeing me, Julian's brow furrowed. He pushed Scarlett off his lap and stood up, adjusting his suit jacket.

"What are you doing here? Who let you up?"

His voice was laced with irritation.

Looking at the crumbs on his lips, I felt incredibly sick.

"I'm here to discuss the breach of contract fees," I said, my voice empty of any emotion. "Because of your PR team's stunt, I am facing thirty million dollars in fines."

"It's just thirty million," Scarlett chimed in with a giggle, wiping her fingers with a silk handkerchief. "Julian spends more than that on a single sports car. Miss Lynn, coming here to beg for money is a bit embarrassing, don't you think?"

Julian looked at me coldly. "I told you, I'll take care of the money. Deal with the financial department directly. There's no need to come to my office and cause a scene."

"Cause a scene?" I let out a dry laugh. "Julian, you ruined my career, dragged my name through the mud, and you think I'm just causing a scene?"

"Chloe Lynn!" Julian's voice raised, his eyes sharp. "How much is that stupid social media account even worth? I can support you for the rest of your life easily! Do you really have to fight with me over such a trivial thing?"

A stupid account.

A trivial thing.

I looked at this man who was once my whole world. He looked so foreign now.

I thought he understood me.

I thought he understood my passion for cooking, the sleepless nights I spent developing recipes.

But to him, my dreams were just a cheap hobby that could be paid off.

"Julian, I lost my sense of taste."

I looked directly into his eyes.

Julian froze for a split second, then his scowl deepened. "What game are you playing now? Are you seriously making up a medical lie just to get me to retract the PR statement?"

He didn't believe me.

He actually thought I was lying.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"Believe whatever you want."

I pulled a document from my bag and slammed it onto his desk.

"These are the final divorce papers. I don't want a single penny of your assets. I'll figure out the thirty million on my own."

Julian's eyes locked onto the papers, his pupils shrinking.

"Chloe, have you lost your mind?!" Julian snatched the papers, ripped them in half, and hurled them onto the floor.

"Without me, how are you going to pay thirty million? By begging on the streets?!"

"I'd rather beg on the streets than stay here as your dirty secret!" I yelled back, refusing to back down.

Slap!

Julian slammed his hand onto the desk in fury, making his coffee cup rattle.

"Fine! Great! You've got guts, Chloe!"

He pointed toward the door, laughing in anger. "If you walk out that door today, don't you dare come back crawling to me. I won't help you even if you beg on your knees!"

Without a second thought, I turned and walked out.

"Julian, don't be mad. She just doesn't appreciate how good you are to her..." Scarlett's voice faded behind me.

I didn't look back.

Stepping out of the corporate building, the bright afternoon sun blinded me.

I didn't cry. My tears had run dry last night.

I went back to the penthouse we shared, packed only a few clothes, and left all the jewelry, designer bags, and even my wedding ring on the table.

When the heavy door clicked shut, I knew my twelve years with Julian Vance were officially over.

That night, I rented a cheap basement apartment in Queens.

I boiled some cheap pasta in plain water.

No salt. No oil.

I forced myself to swallow it.

But as I chewed, my tears slipped into the bowl.

I had no taste.

I could never make Julian's favorite soup again.

But that was fine. He didn't need it anymore.

Chloe's POV

Three days after I moved into the basement, Julian's assistant showed up at my door.

The suited assistant stood in the damp, smelly hallway of my building, looking at my thin, pale face with pity.

"Mrs. Vance, Julian wants you to come home."

"I'm not Mrs. Vance anymore," I said calmly. "The divorce papers have been mailed to his office."

The assistant sighed. "He ripped them up. He said if you just apologize and admit you were wrong, he'll clear your debt and help you reopen your studio."

I let out a cold laugh.

A slap in the face followed by a sweet treat. Julian really loved playing corporate mind games with me.

"Tell him I'd rather starve to death than take a single dollar of his money."

After the assistant left, I began looking for jobs.

But with the "toxic pan" scandal attached to my name, no company would hire me.

I even tried applying for dishwasher jobs at local diners, but the managers recognized me and kicked me out.

"We don't hire scammers here. Get lost!"

Standing on the busy New York streets, watching people pass by, I felt utterly powerless for the first time in my life.

Then, my phone rang. It was an unknown number.

"Miss Lynn, I hear you're desperate for cash."

The voice on the other end was familiar, arrogant and dripping with condescension.

It was Scarlett.

"What do you want?" I asked guardedly.

"Come to Club V888 tonight at 8:00 PM. If you show up, I'll give you a million dollars."

I wanted to hang up immediately, but the thought of the thirty million dollar debt made me squeeze my eyes shut. "Fine."

At 8:00 PM, I pushed open the heavy door to the VIP lounge at Club V888.

The room was dimly lit, filled with expensive cigar smoke and loud music.

Julian was sitting right in the center of the plush leather sofa, holding a glass of whiskey, looking relaxed and regal.

Scarlett was clinging to his arm, surrounded by several wealthy young heirs of New York.

The room went dead quiet when I walked in.

Julian's eyes landed on me. Seeing me in a cheap oversized t-shirt and worn jeans, looking noticeably thinner, his brow twitched slightly.

But he quickly masked it with cold mockery.

"Well, well. Did your pride run out that quickly?"

I ignored him and walked straight to Scarlett. "Why did you call me here?"

Scarlett giggled, pulling a check from her designer bag and slapping it on the table.

"Chloe, there's a million dollars right here. All you have to do is drop to your knees and drink this entire bottle of tequila, and the money is yours."

She pointed to a bottle of high-proof liquor on the table.

The rich kids around her laughed and cheered.

"Whoa, isn't this the proud Chloe Lynn? Look at her now."

"Julian, your ex-wife is really pathetic. Kneeling for just a million?"

"Scarlett, you're brutal!"

I stared at the check, my hands clenching into fists, my nails drawing blood from my palms.

I looked at Julian.

He swirled the whiskey in his glass, his eyes cold and detached, as if watching a stranger.

He wasn't going to stop her.

He was letting her humiliate me.

"What's wrong? Don't want it?" Scarlett mocked. "Then get the hell out and stop ruining our night."

I took a deep breath.

The thirty million dollar debt was a mountain crushing me. I had no other choice.

Slowly, I began to bend my knees.

But right before my knees could touch the dirty floor, Julian slammed his whiskey glass onto the ground.

Smash!

Glass shattered everywhere.

The lounge fell into dead silence.

Julian stood up abruptly, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me up with brute force.

"Chloe Lynn, have you lost all self-respect?!"

His eyes were bloodshot as he glared at me in fury.

"For a lousy million dollars, you're willing to throw away your dignity? Where is your pride?!"

My wrist hurt from his grip, but I only let out a broken laugh.

"Dignity? Julian, didn't you step on my dignity a long time ago?"

I yanked my hand out of his grip, my eyes entirely dead.

"Who are you to judge me? I am in this position because of you."

"Get her out of here!" Julian shouted at his bodyguards, frantically loosening his tie.

"Julian, what are you doing..." Scarlett complained, grabbing his sleeve.

"Shut up!" Julian snapped at her, his voice so cold that she instantly went quiet.

I was dragged out of the club by his bodyguards and thrown into the back of a black Maybach.

The car sped through the city, finally stopping in front of a secluded mansion in the suburbs.

This was the house we bought when we first got together.

I was shoved inside, and the heavy oak door slammed shut behind me, the lock clicking into place.

"Mr. Vance ordered that you are not to leave until you've cleared your head," the bodyguard's cold voice came from outside.

Looking at the empty, quiet house, I closed my eyes in despair.

He wasn't just ruining me. He was locking me up.

The mansion was huge, but it felt like a gilded cage.

I was locked there for a whole week. No phone, no internet, no TV.

The maid delivered three meals a day, but I barely touched them. Food meant nothing to me now. The extreme mental stress made me drop weight rapidly. My clothes hung loosely on my bony frame.

Every day, I just sat by the window, watching the sun rise and set, replaying the last twelve years in my mind.

At twelve, I saved his life.

At twenty, I ran away from my family to marry him when he had nothing.

At twenty-three, he became the billionaire CEO of Vance Enterprises, and he wanted me to be his hidden mistress.

Love is a losing game. I bet everything, and I lost down to my bones.

Chloe's POV

On the seventh evening, the heavy front door finally opened.

Julian walked in, bringing the chilly winter air with him. He was dressed in a pristine, custom-tailored black suit, looking as powerful and untouchable as ever. But when his eyes fell on me sitting on the carpet, looking like a skeleton, a flicker of pain and frustration crossed his face.

He quickly masked it, returning to his usual cold demeanor.

"Are you done throwing your tantrum?" He walked over, looking down at me, and tossed a document onto the table. "Sign this. Then we'll go get the divorce finalized."

I turned my head slowly, my eyes landing on the paper.

"I thought you ripped up the last copy because you didn't want to divorce," my voice was raspy, sounding like sandpaper.

"Chloe, don't be naive," Julian said, his tone brutally calm. "Next Wednesday is my engagement party with Scarlett. You need to accept reality. The title of Mrs. Vance belongs to her now."

My heart squeezed painfully, a sharp ache radiating through my chest.

"If you're getting engaged, why are you keeping me locked up here?" I looked up, my eyes bloodshot.

Julian knelt down, his fingers gripping my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Because I've designated you as the head chef for the engagement party."

My pupils dilated. I stared at him in utter horror.

He wanted me, his wife, to cook for his engagement party to another woman?

"Are you insane, Julian?" My voice finally cracked. "What do you think I am? How much more of my dignity do you need to crush before you're satisfied?!"

"What are you? A chef who once cooked for the Vance family, or a woman who needs to learn her place." Julian's eyes were merciless.

"Your assistant, Penny, and the rest of your studio staff. I have them blacklisted. If you don't make this dinner perfect, I'll make sure none of them ever find a job in New York again. They will be drowning in debt."

"You monster!" I raised my hand to slap him, but he caught my wrist mid-air.

"I'm just teaching you how the real world works," Julian said, throwing my hand back and standing up. "Chloe, if you behave, do this one last job, and prove you've let go of your obsession with being my wife, you can stay by my side. I'll make sure you live in luxury."

I trembled, staring at him for a long, long time.

So long that Julian actually looked away, unable to meet my gaze.

My eyes were completely dead.

The twelve years of love, adoration, and warmth had burned to ash in a single second.

I finally accepted that the boy who once carried me on his back for five miles in a rainstorm was dead. This man was a stranger.

"Fine," I said, my voice flat and lifeless. "I'll do it."

Julian blinked, clearly surprised by how quickly I agreed.

"Good. Sign the papers and prepare. Don't think about running away." He turned and walked out, his back cold and unyielding.

When the door locked, I didn't cry. My tears had dried up during the week of isolation. I picked up the pen and signed my name on the divorce papers. Each stroke felt like a cut through my past twelve years.

Over the next few days, I started eating again. I even asked the maid to bring in premium ingredients. The guards thought I had finally given up, so they relaxed their security.

I worked like a robot, making batch after batch of wild mushroom soup. But this time, I didn't use any of the rare, gut-healing herbs I used to source from all over the world.

I opened the pantry and dumped thousands of dollars worth of premium, health-boosting ingredients straight into the garbage.

Julian, you wanted me to cook? I'll cook. But from now on, your health, your stomach, and your life have absolutely nothing to do with me.

The following Wednesday, at the Waldorf Astoria in New York.

The engagement party of the century between Vance Enterprises and the Sterling Group had taken over the entire penthouse ballroom. Every powerful family in New York was there.

But in the kitchen, the atmosphere was tense.

I stood in a white chef's uniform, my hair tied back neatly, staring blankly at the prep station.

The other chefs looked at me with pity and whispered gossip.

Everyone knew I was Julian's secret wife, now forced to cook for his new bride. It was the ultimate humiliation.

"Miss Lynn, they are calling for the soup in the ballroom. Is the wild mushroom soup ready?" the head chef asked cautiously.

"Yes," I said quietly.

I sprinkled a bit of fresh parsley over the soup. It looked beautiful, but it lacked the rich, healing aroma it used to have.

Suddenly, the kitchen doors swung open.