Raelynn's lips curved upward as she read the statement online, a subtle yet unmistakably smug smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

The divorce proceedings seemed to have stabilized. Knowing Christian’s personality, there were unlikely to be any more twists ahead. For once, she felt at ease.

“You don't need to worry about the rest. I'll have Harvey transfer the money to you!” Her mood had elevated, and it showed in her sudden generosity.

But Lydia, usually obsessed with money, didn’t look so cheerful. “That’s it? But did you see what everyone’s saying in the comments? They’re dragging you through the mud, claiming you married him for the money, yet you walked away with nothing!”

“They couldn’t be more wrong. We both got exactly what we wanted,” Raelynn replied firmly, dismissing Lydia’s concerns.

This marriage had always been a transaction—a relationship of mutual benefit. Now it was over, and all she wanted was to reclaim the life that had once been her own.

With the divorce nearly settled, Raelynn shifted her focus. She immersed herself in preparing the antidote for Grandpa Hart and sourcing the surgical materials necessary for his operation. She barely had the bandwidth to care about anything else.

But others couldn’t sleep quite as soundly.

Selene, scolded relentlessly by her manager, placed a desperate call to Georgia. “Yunyun, you orchestrated this whole thing from start to finish. Now that I’m in trouble, you’ve got to help me!”

Christian’s retaliation had been vicious. He’d halted all her work opportunities. The sums owed for contract breaches alone were astronomical—she could sell herself ten times over and still not cover the damages.

But Georgia remained indifferent to Selene’s plight. She idly admired her freshly manicured nails as she spoke lazily, “Oh, my brother is just like that. Here’s an idea—do what Raelynn did and exploit his soft spot. Use his kindness to your advantage…”

Selene hesitated, unsure. “I’ll… I’ll try.”

Meanwhile, the Hart Group’s official statement, coupled with their PR efforts, quickly obliterated the online chatter. Not only that, Christian ended up earning a surprising wave of new fans. Devoted admirers flooded his social media feeds, urging him to celebrate singlehood with a selfie spree to “pamper the fans.”

Yet before the dust could settle, a new storm brewed.

A series of photos surfaced online, and the public's outcry erupted again.

Christian had just finished a meeting with the hospital heads under the Hart Group. Each of them confirmed the same discouraging news: there was no way to detoxify Grandpa Hart, no materials for the operation. Unless, of course, the elusive Laura could be persuaded to return...

Laura again.

Frustration throbbed at Christian’s temples. He was about to lose himself in his exasperation when his aide, Cade Kirk, rushed in breathlessly, his face pale. Before Cade could utter a word, Christian cut him off, voice sharp with impatience. “If it’s not about Laura or Harvey, don’t waste my time.”

Cade hesitated, faltered, then found his courage. “It’s… this.”

He avoided saying outright that his boss had been exposed online—caught in the midst of an alleged affair. Instead, he handed over the tablet for Christian to see for himself.

The photo staring back at him was damning. A man—strikingly recognizable despite the casual bathrobe—stood smoking on a hotel balcony. Behind him, a woman, similarly draped in a bathrobe, revealed a tantalizing glimpse of a bare shoulder. Their side profiles were clear, the intimacy undeniable from the angle.

It practically dripped with insinuation.

Christian scanned the image, recalling the source of the mess. It had to be from Morningstar Entertainment’s anniversary gala. He’d had a few too many drinks and gone to the penthouse to sober up. Someone had sent a woman to his room, but he’d thrown her out immediately without even seeing her clearly. Yet here he was, forcibly roped into yet another spectacle.

He scrolled through the comments. They were a cesspool of outrage and mockery. His jaw tightened. “Who posted this?”

Cade stood stiffly, clearly nervous. “Just a few small-time marketing accounts.”

Christian’s voice turned icy. “No backing? And those accounts dared to pull a stunt like this?”

“They’ve bought bots to amplify it. It looks like the same crowd that leaked the marriage certificate and agreement.” Cade’s voice wavered, thick with unease.

“Useless!” Christian snapped, tossing the tablet onto the desk with a sharp crack that reverberated through the room. The air around him seemed to darken with fury.

The evidence painted a picture all too clearly: this was Raelynn's doing. She wanted to drag him down, unwilling to relinquish her position as Mrs. Hart. This was her final, desperate gambit.

Sensing imminent danger, Cade made a hasty exit, muttering an excuse about other urgent matters. Once alone, Christian forced himself to breathe deeply, attempting to restore some semblance of calm. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number already burned into his memory.

Raelynn had been locked away in her work for days when she noticed that one of the herbs Harvey brought her was no longer suitable for Grandpa Hart’s condition. To avoid arousing suspicion, she decided to sneak into the Jones Pharma Group's exclusive supply lab at their Imperial Capital office and find the replacement herself.

Just as she was about to enter, her phone vibrated. She glanced around to ensure no one was watching before answering. Her tone brightened instantly, playful and teasing. “Darling, missing me already?”

The act couldn’t stop yet; the divorce wasn’t finalized. She had to keep up the pretense.

Christian, seething on the other end, launched straight into an attack. “Raelynn, I never thought you’d sink so low. For your goals, no tactic is off-limits. Did you think this stunt would make me fold?”

Raelynn blinked, thrown off. She thought he was still talking about the divorce. Eager to get it over with, she decided to play along. “Fine. You’re absolutely right. I don’t want to split up. I don’t want to leave you. As long as you agree not to divorce me, I’ll do anything to keep my spot as Mrs. Hart.”

The audacity of her words nearly sent Christian into a blind rage. He clenched the phone so tightly it threatened to crack. “You’re dreaming. Tomorrow—civil affairs office. The divorce will happen!”

Raelynn had just reached for the lab's heavy door when his command froze her mid-step. She instinctively refused, her voice adamant. “No!”

“I’m warning you, Raelynn. This is your last chance. Divorce. Immediately.”

As his tone sharpened, her mind shifted gears. His firmness hinted at no ulterior motive. Could this really be her golden ticket out? Her chance to rid herself of this man for good? She just had to be careful—neither too eager nor too dismissive. This was her moment to strike a final blow to his pride.

After a pause, she spoke cautiously. “You’re serious about filing?”

“Do I really need to say it twice?” The line went dead before she could respond.

The phone screen darkened—then lit up again with floods of messages from Harvey and Lydia. Curious, Raelynn opened them, skimming the texts. Her expression shifted from intrigue to cold fury with each sentence.

Harvey: “Boss, look at that green hat someone planted on your head!”

Lydia: “Big boss, do you want me to handle this mess for you?”

The accompanying screenshots told the whole story—a public humiliation of epic proportions. Knowing you’ve been betrayed is one thing; having the whole world gleefully rub it in your face is another.

Raelynn tightened her grip on her phone, her fingers curling with such force that the screen cracked audibly. But she didn’t stop there, pressing harder until the fractures spidered further across the glass. She imagined it wasn’t her phone but Christian’s infuriating, smug face taking the damage.

How dare he.