His Love Was Plastic, But My Revenge Is Made of Steel

PROLOGUE

Doing the laundry, I found another pair of lace underwear in my husband s pocket.

Again.

Before I could even say a word, he just arched a single, challenging brow and handed me a plastic vase.

Go on, he said. Smash it.

It was so natural.

Just like every other time his cheating was exposed over the past seven years, this had become our routine.

My gaze drifted around the room, and a slow, cold realization dawned on me.

Everything in our home that could be broken had been replaced.

Plastic, stainless steel, shatterproof materials.

He was already accustomed to my hysteria.

He believed our marriage was like this plastic vase.

No matter how hard I tried, I could never truly break it.

But this time, I calmly placed the vase back on the table.

Let s get a divorce.

01

The moment he heard those three words, Elliot Thornton froze, then chuckled.

What s this? Throwing tantrums didn t work, so you re trying a new tactic?

Whose idea was this? One of your friends?

He seemed utterly convinced that I would never leave him.

So much so that even the mention of divorce was just another game to him.

Seeing my silence, Elliot pressed his temples and rose lazily from his chair, lighting a cigarette.

Fine. When? he asked.

In the brightly lit living room of our Pasadena house, his lean frame leaned against the wall, gradually dissolving into the rising white smoke. His cold eyes were fixed on the plastic vase, unblinking.

I hated when he smoked indoors, so he rarely did it.

I knew he was doing it on purpose.

To provoke me.

Perhaps he preferred the old way I handled his affairs

By smashing everything in the house to pieces.

Once I had vented, everything could supposedly go back to normal.

For the past seven years, that was how I had managed my emotions.

And that was how he had managed me.

But only today did I finally understand that a wound healing on the surface doesn't mean the tissue beneath has recovered.

My soul was already riddled with holes, a bloody mess, yet I had desperately tried to maintain this marriage that Elliot thought was unbreakable.

Was it worth it?

No marriage is unbreakable.

I calmly tossed the lace underwear into the trash and pulled the rest of the clothes from the washing machine.

A faint lipstick stain on the collar of his white shirt hadn't even washed out completely.

I clenched the fabric in my fist, turned to face Elliot, and said, each word a stone.

Today.

Elliot s expression showed a rare moment of stiffness, but it vanished as quickly as it came. He tapped the ash from his cigarette, his voice turning cold. Alright. I ll go change.

As he turned to leave, he didn't forget to give an order. Make sure you hang the laundry properly. You know I hate it when my clothes feel damp during the rainy season.

To him, a divorce was as trivial as doing the laundry.

He didn't take it seriously at all.

Even after we had finished the paperwork at the Los Angeles County Courthouse.

Standing outside, Elliot took a call and was in a hurry to leave.

He left me with only one sentence.

Six months. Is that enough time for you to come to your senses?

I didn t answer. I went home, put all the clothes from the washer into the dryer.

Then, I folded only my clothes, piece by piece, and packed them away.

I walked out of that home without a second glance.

Elliot didn't know.

I didn't need six months.

I had never been more clear-headed in my life.

02

The whole world knew I was desperately in love with Elliot Thornton.

It started when we were kids playing house. I would cry and throw a fit to be his only bride, even tattling to our parents, demanding they make him marry me with tears and snot running down my face.

When we were older, I became the unreasonable warrior by his side, intercepting every love letter sent his way.

Then, he fell for someone else.

A girl named Dahlia.

Because of my constant presence, she never accepted his confession.

I still remember the look on Elliot s face when he saw her holding hands with another man.

He was heartbroken. A kind of raw, devastating heartbreak I had never seen on him before.

That was also the first time Elliot ever got truly angry with me.

I had cautiously approached him, tugging at his sleeve, trying to comfort him.

Elliot, you still have me.

He violently threw my hand off. Vera, are you ever going to stop? Can you just leave me alone?

The force of his shove sent me stumbling backward. My head hit a tree trunk with a sickening crack. A huge gash opened up, and blood started pouring out.

That was also the first time I saw Elliot look so terrified.

Vera, are you okay? Does it hurt?

I gave him a wide, toothy grin, then brought my hand back from the wound. It was covered in blood.

But I still said, Don t worry, Elliot. I m fine.

Elliot stared at my blood-soaked hand in horror.

I forced myself to keep smiling. You re& you re not sad anymore, right?

His whole body went rigid. He gripped my hand tightly, his face a storm of complicated emotions.

He looked like he wanted to say something.

But before he could, I fainted.

I hate the sight of blood.

From that day on, Elliot was no longer as cold to me as before.

He gradually got used to me, his little shadow, following him everywhere.

Later, the Thornton family business was in trouble.

I begged, threatened, and manipulated my parents into liquidating nearly two million dollars in assets, and I poured every cent of it into Elliot s company, Thornton Tech.

During that dark period of his life, when everyone else avoided his family like the plague, I was the only one who stood firmly by his side.

When Elliot was drinking himself into oblivion for a project, to the point of stomach bleeding.

It was me who stepped up to take the drinks for him.

In a private room thick with the stench of smoke and expensive liquor, a group of pot-bellied, middle-aged men sneered at me. Ms. Monahan, if you want to drink for Mr. Thornton, that s fine. But you have to drink two for every one of his.

I downed two glasses without hesitation.

Elliot grabbed my hand. Don t.

The room erupted in laughter. Well, look at Ms. Monahan. A real doormat, isn t she?

How about this, one of them, a man with a sweaty bald head, slurred. Forget the drinks. You spend the night with us, and I ll give the project to Mr. Thornton. How about that?

You d do anything for him, wouldn t you ?

The bald man never got to finish his sentence.

Elliot, who had been slumped in his chair, shot up and smashed his fist into the man s nose.

One punch, two, three& I counted them carefully. For me, Elliot threw sixteen punches.

In that moment, he was like a god descending from the heavens to protect me.

Over the years, I ve forgotten many of the things I did for love of him.

But those sixteen punches he threw for me? I never forgot them.

That night, we were both taken to the police station.

He was squatting in a corner, his face bruised and bloody, when he suddenly spoke. Vera, maybe we should get married.

The certainty in his voice back then.

It was just like the certainty he had now, convinced I would never divorce him.

He believed that all he had to do was ask, and I would never refuse.

And the truth was, he was right.

03

I went back to my parents house.

My mom, her eyes still heavy with sleep, pulled open the door. The shock on her face was plain to see.

Vivi? What are you doing here so late?

I pushed my suitcase inside and put on a playful tone. Aren t you happy to see me, Mom?

It s not that& She stared at me, then at the suitcase. After you married Elliot, you never once spent a night away from home.

Last year, on my birthday, I asked you to stay over, just to talk. And what did my ungrateful daughter say? You said you had to go home and run Elliot s bathwater! You didn t want to make him wait.

And that other time, when Elliot was on a business trip and you broke your leg. I told you to stay in the hospital, but you insisted on hobbling back home to sleep, saying you were afraid he d find out you weren t there and worry about you!

And then there was the time&

I finally couldn't take it anymore and cut her off. Mom, stop.

She rolled her eyes and poked me sharply in the forehead. You can t even listen to it? Do you have any idea how many ridiculous things you ve done over the years?

You ve been like his little shadow since you were a kid, practically glued to his side!

Ashamed, I knelt and unzipped my suitcase.

It was only then that my mother seemed to truly see it. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

Don t tell me you ve run away from home.

Yes, I nodded, then dropped the bombshell as casually as I could. Elliot and I

Are divorced.

My mother froze, completely stunned by the news.

Just as I was pulling out my pajamas, ready to change.

Elliot s voice suddenly echoed from my mother s phone, which she d apparently just used to call him.

Mrs. Monahan? Elliot s voice was hoarse, a lazy tone barely concealing his irritation. Is something wrong?

My mother rushed to speak. Elliot, dear, Vivi is here with me.

My expression changed. I shot up, wanting to grab the phone from her hand.

But she was already speaking frantically.

Did you two have a fight? Oh, you know how it is with couples, you fight one minute and make up the next. You know Vivi has a fiery temper!

She loves you so much, how could she really want to divorce you? Just come over, say a few sweet things, and this will all be over!

My mom tried to hand the phone to me. Vivi, hurry, talk to him.

On the other end of the line, I heard a faint, almost imperceptible sound from Elliot, a soft groan.

My blood ran cold. The hand reaching for the phone froze in mid-air.

After seven years of sharing a bed with him, I knew better than anyone what that sound meant.

I heard the rustle of sheets. Elliot must have thought my mother had already passed the phone to me.

His voice, laced with post-coital satisfaction, drifted lazily through the speaker.

Vera. You regret it already?

He let out a low chuckle. The speakerphone broadcast his voice into every corner of the house.

I have to hand it to you, I m impressed. You didn t even last a single night.

I can t come get you right now. I m out of town on business. Just take a cab back home.

The click of a lighter. He was smoking again.

I could picture his expression perfectly.

Smug, arrogant, completely in control.

His words were like a king granting a pardon.

Be a good girl and wait for me at home. I ll consider coming back before the six-month waiting period is over to withdraw the petition with you.

04

Elliot hung up without waiting for a reply.

He hadn t even bothered to hear a single word from me.

Under the dim, yellow light of the foyer, my mother quickly turned away from me, her body trembling uncontrollably.

Her shaking shoulders, rising and falling, extinguished the flames of rage that had been building inside me.

I walked over and hugged her from behind. Mom, why did you have to call him?

My mother couldn t hold back her tears any longer. She choked out the words, her hands gripping my arms.

I did it for you, Vivi!

Every time you have a huge fight with him, you re the one who can t eat, can t sleep! You lose so much weight, and last time, you were so out of it you got hit by a car and broke your leg.

The doctor said if you had arrived any later, it wouldn t have just been a broken bone, it would have been&

She turned around and hugged me tightly, her voice firm.

Vivi, if you can t live without Elliot, then your father and I have no choice but to accept it.

All we can do is try to keep you from getting hurt, to be the glue that holds you two together whenever we can.

My mom wiped the tears from her eyes and gently pushed me toward the door. Alright, stop this nonsense. Just go home.

It ll all be fine once Elliot gets back from his trip.

She stood in the corner, half her face cloaked in shadow.

I could clearly see the storm of emotions on her face.

The humiliation of having to constantly tolerate Elliot.

The anger she was forced to suppress.

Her frustration with my weakness.

And& beneath it all, the heart-wrenching pain and love she had for me.

In that moment, I finally realized something.

In the grand, dramatic saga of my love for Elliot Thornton.

I wasn't the only one left bleeding.

My parents, the people who loved me most in this world, were bleeding too.

God, I was a fool.

To waste so many years of my life on a man so unworthy.

I squeezed my mother s hand, my voice steady and deliberate.

Mom, I m serious this time. I am divorcing Elliot for real.

05

I knew my mother didn t believe me.

After all, for so many years, I had loved Elliot with everything I had.

With all my strength.

To suddenly say I wanted a divorce& no one would believe it.

But still, she supported my decision.

When I said I wanted to learn the family business, she had my father arrange a position for me at the Monahan Corporation.

They were afraid I d cause trouble, so they didn t put me in a project team. Instead, I started in the administration department.

I figured acceptance takes time, so I didn t push for more and settled into my new role.

Ten days flew by.

Elliot returned from his business trip.

But our reunion took place at my father s company.

He was there with his assistant to discuss a potential partnership. I was assigned to bring them coffee. The moment I pushed open the conference room door, I saw her.

The woman sitting right next to Elliot.

She had dark hair and ruby-red lips. When she smiled, her eyes curved into little crescent moons.

As she spoke, she kept leaning closer to Elliot, practically melting into his side.

That familiar face. Even if she were reduced to ashes, I would never forget it.

It was her.

Dahlia Emerson.

The girl Elliot had almost been with.

So, this was the girl who had been keeping him company on his business trip.

I calmly placed the coffee cups on the table. Dahlia reached for one.

The scalding coffee instantly spilled across the back of her hand.

She yelped in pain.

Elliot shoved me aside, a vein throbbing in his temple. Vera, are you following me?

I clenched the empty coffee tray. No, I m not. You forgot, this is my family s com

Elliot s brow furrowed, cutting me off.

Don t bother explaining! I just got back, and here you are. What else could it be but stalking?

I already told you, if you just wait for me at home, I ll withdraw the divorce petition within the six-month period.

Do you really need to play all these games?

Looking at his entitled expression, I suddenly lost all energy to argue with him.

I let out a slow breath and shook my head. Think whatever you want.

I turned to leave, ignoring the cloying atmosphere between the two of them.

But Elliot s voice stopped me. Vera, stop embarrassing yourself and go home.

I had my assistant send my dirty laundry from the trip back to the house. Go and wash it.

That s what you re supposed to do. It s what you re good at.

In front of all these people, his cold, sharp gaze pinned me down, leaving me with no dignity.

If that was the case, then I didn t need to show him any mercy either.

I curved my lips into a cold, mocking smile.

Elliot, this is my family s company. I work here. How is that stalking?

You say I m good at doing laundry? And what are you good at? Cheating? Or maybe you re good at sleeping with your assistant? Or fooling around with college girls?

Elliot s eyes widened in disbelief. He pointed a finger at me. You !

I slapped his hand away.

We re already divorced.

Maybe you should ask your new girlfriend to do your laundry for you.

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