Chapter 2

Ten years ago, Steve's offer to work in America was snatched away by someone else.

I couldn't bear to see him depressed, so I secretly created an exclusive overseas assignment plan just for him.

I not only helped him connect with the top American universities, but invested ten million to secure a professor position.

I paved his way with money at every turn, helping him build a world-class research team and become America's youngest external consultant.

Due to visa issues, I could only stay in this country three months each year before I had to leave.

For ten years, I traveled back and forth, exhausted.

Every year I prepared the materials needed for a marriage-based green card well in advance.

I reviewed every detail meticulously before submitting, but was rejected every single time.

Steve always comforted me:

"America's marriage green card review process is extremely strict, especially when the spouse is someone in a high-level technical position like me. Getting rejected is normal—we'll try again next year."

I always thought it was just my bad luck. Now I finally know—it was my pillow partner who fabricated everything.

I had even asked Mila before about how she got her green card, how she could stay here long-term with her child.

Every time, Mila would respond with a half-smile:

"Probably just my good luck?"

So that's how it was...

To say I wasn't heartbroken would be impossible.

Just after I hung up with my assistant, Steve's call came through.

I wanted to hear what else he had to say, so I answered.

The moment I picked up, I heard his scolding voice:

"Mila just found out you called to question me, and she's so upset she's crying. She says she wants to take David and withdraw from school to return home tonight. You've scared David to tears."

Over the phone, I could indeed hear Mila's sobbing and David's angry crying:

"Why do we have to leave?! I'm not going! This is my home! I won't let that bad woman come here!"

"Marta, if you're going to blame someone, blame me. Don't fight with Steve..."

Steve said to David and Mila in a gentle voice:

"As long as I'm here, no one can drive you away."

"I'll have her apologize to you now, okay? Marta, apologize to them."

I hung up directly.

I tore up all the visa documents and turned toward home.

This green card—I don't care about it anymore.

I hadn't walked far when Steve's car pulled up in front of me.

He rolled down the window and said:

"I knew you were angry. Fine, you don't have to apologize anymore. Really, why are you getting jealous over a widow and her child?"

"I came specially to pick you up. Get in."

I didn't bother saying anything and walked straight to the passenger side.

I opened the door to find Mila there.

She raised her eyebrows and said apologetically:

"Sorry, Marta. I'm not feeling well today, so I took the passenger seat. You can sit in back."

Steve looked at me nervously, opening his mouth to defend Mila.

After all, on any other day, I would have frowned and insisted on getting my rightful place in the passenger seat as the lady of the house.

But today, I said nothing and got in the back seat.

The visa center was eighteen kilometers from downtown—hard to catch a ride.

If he was willing to pick me up, I'd just treat him as a free driver.

Steve seemed surprised. His lips moved as he turned to say something to me.

Mila interrupted:

"Steve, the car behind us is honking. Let's go."

I closed my eyes. I don't know how long passed before the car stopped.

When I opened my eyes, we were parked outside a Michelin restaurant.

Seeing me frown, Steve smiled and said:

"Mila knows you're upset about the green card situation. She specially wants to treat you to dinner and apologize."

I said coldly:

"Not necessary. I want to go home."

But Steve pulled me out with a laugh.

"Be good. Mila and I will explain the marriage certificate situation to you properly."

I sat down expressionless.

The whole evening I just watched the three of them interact intimately.

I lost patience and said: "If you have something to say, say it now."

Steve said unhurriedly: "Let me add some red wine first."

Right after ordering, David suddenly knocked over the wine. Mila cried out in alarm.

Steve quickly said to me:

"Marta, I'll take David to the restroom to wipe off his clothes. Just wait for me."

Mila shot me a triumphant look, then pulled Steve away.

But I waited a full hour without seeing any sign of them.

Instead, the restaurant manager came over and said politely:

"Miss, we're closed now. Please settle your bill—that's $10,000 total."

I froze. The next second, Steve sent me a message:

"You insist on making things difficult for Mila and the child and refuse to apologize simply because I've spoiled you too much."

"Now I've frozen your card!"