Chapter 3

The next day, my lawyer finally handed me the divorce agreement he had prepared. I was ready to go find Liam and have him sign it.

I had just reached the door of his bedroom when voices drifted out from inside.

It was Vanessa’s voice, carrying a hint of barely concealed urgency.

“Mr. G is arriving in the city tomorrow. These next few days, we have to keep Clara locked up. We absolutely cannot let them meet.”

Liam laughed casually.

“What are you afraid of? She hasn’t touched her dance shoes in how many years now? Besides, that choreography plagiarism scandal back then—she didn’t even make it to the semifinals. These days, if anyone brings it up, she gets cursed as an opportunistic thief. No matter how much Mr. G admired her back then, he must’ve long grown sick of someone with such questionable character.”

The words “questionable character” slammed into my chest like a sledgehammer.

My entire body stiffened. I had to lean against the wall just to stay upright.

The memories surged back uncontrollably.

For that all-important selection competition, I had spent countless nights in the dance studio. The reflection in the mirror went from upright and proud to hunched and exhausted. Sweat soaked through one practice outfit after another. Every movement, every beat, was carved into my bones.

But the day after I submitted my choreography proposal, Vanessa came to me with reddened eyes, saying her concept had “accidentally overlapped” with mine. She begged me to withdraw, saying dance was her entire life and that she couldn’t afford even the slightest stain on her reputation.

I had always been serious about my work. That choreography was the crystallization of my blood and sweat—how could I just hand it over?

I refused her.

And then news broke online that I had plagiarized Vanessa. The backlash was immediate and vicious.

Fortunately, my mentor appreciated me and believed in me. She was willing to give me a chance, even under immense public pressure—allowing both of us to advance to the next round, letting us prove originality with our strength on stage.

Back then, I naïvely believed that such fairness would clear my name.

Who could have imagined that on the day of the competition, I would fall into an unnaturally deep sleep? By the time I struggled awake, the event was already over. I was ruled to have forfeited, and the label of “plagiarist” stuck to me like a stubborn bandage—impossible to tear off.

I didn’t even dare face my mentor, afraid of seeing disappointment in her eyes.

All these years, I thought it was just bad luck. That sudden, overwhelming drowsiness had ruined everything. When Liam later persuaded me to “return to the family and stop chasing unrealistic dance dreams,” I actually believed it was for my own good. I willingly put away my practice clothes and became the “well-behaved” wife he wanted.

But now, Vanessa’s words were like a key—unlocking Pandora’s box and exposing every buried truth to the light.

“You really were smart back then,” Vanessa said, her voice full of admiration.

“You secretly took her choreography drafts and gave them to me. And you slipped sleeping pills into her milk so she slept right through the semifinals. Otherwise, with her brilliance back then, how would I ever have had a chance?”

Liam chuckled softly, indulgence practically spilling from his tone.

“For you, that was nothing. I told you long ago—I’d clear every obstacle for you and make sure you stood firmly in the dance world.”

Boom—

My mind went completely blank. All I could hear was a deafening buzz.

So it wasn’t an accident.

Not coincidence.

But a meticulously planned conspiracy.

It was my husband who stole the work I’d stayed up nights creating and handed it to my sister.

It was my husband who drugged me at the most critical moment, robbing me of the chance to defend myself and condemning me to years of accusations.

And it was my husband who, under the guise of “doing it for my own good,” made me personally abandon the career I loved most.

I clenched my fists so hard my nails cut into my palms. The metallic taste of blood spread through my mouth, yet that pain was nothing compared to the agony crushing my heart.

I slid down the cold wall and sank to the floor.

Why did he do this?

He married me—yet for Vanessa, he destroyed my dreams, stained my name, and pushed me into the abyss. Did he really love her that much? Enough to deceive me, use me, and sacrifice everything I had?

If Vanessa was the one he loved, then why marry me?

Why make me play the role of a happy wife for seven years?

Why let me waste all my passion and hope inside this fake marriage?

The murmurs in the bedroom continued—those intimate, self-satisfied words. Each one was a poisoned thorn, stabbing into my heart, stirring hatred and despair into a violent storm.

I once thought that betrayal in marriage and the horrific deaths of my children were the ultimate forms of pain.

Only now did I realize I had lost far more than that.

I lost the dream I fought for.

The dignity I was proud of.

My clean, honest life.

The Clara who once shone on stage, who burned with passion for dance—she had already been murdered seven years ago, by Liam and Vanessa together.

I slowly lifted my head. Tears blurred my vision, yet a cold resolve gathered in my eyes. I stood up and calmly picked up the scattered divorce papers—my movements eerily steady.

Mr. G is coming, is he?

They thought that by locking me away, they could bury the truth forever. That Vanessa could climb upward by stepping on my corpse.

They were wrong.

Painfully wrong.

Liam. Vanessa.

What you owe me isn’t just a marriage, or three children.

You owe me my dreams.

My innocence.

Seven years of a life built on lies.

This debt—I will collect it, piece by piece, with interest.

And Mr. G’s arrival is not an obstacle you can use to stop me.

It is the beginning of my revenge.

After a while, I wiped away my tears, put on a face of complete ignorance, and knocked on the door. I mixed the divorce agreement in with some gift invoices and handed them to Liam for his signature.

Fortunately, Vanessa was clinging to him at the time. Everything went smoothly.

He didn’t even look before signing.