Chapter 2

Charlotte POV

After that argument, we parted on bad terms.

Ethan didn't even come home anymore.

The only way I could know his whereabouts was through Sophie's talk show previews.

Under multiple blows, I made an extreme decision to drag them both to hell.

I compiled evidence of Ethan's suspected irregular operations during his startup period, as well as Sophie's use of charity funds for money laundering.

Planning to send it directly to the regulatory department.

But before I could click send on the email, Ethan made his move.

He not only froze all my supplementary cards.

He also used his connections to cut off the imported medicine supply for my grandmother in the ICU.

That was the last lifeline keeping Grandma alive.

The moment I learned the news, I broke down.

I didn't even notice the provocative post Sophie made on Ins.

I frantically dialed his number and screamed:

"Ethan Walker, you clearly know Grandma's surgery is this week!"

"You clearly know stopping the medicine will kill her!"

"How can you be so heartless?!"

But Ethan remained unmoved. The sound of papers rustling came through the phone, terrifyingly calm.

Only after I collapsed exhausted on the cold floor.

Did he speak casually:

"Charlotte, don't expect me to go easy on you."

"You know, Sophie's new show still needs a newsworthy guest."

"Tonight at eight, come to the station to record a clarification interview. As long as you perform well, the medicine will naturally be renewed."

In that moment, my heart suffocated like never before.

I couldn't even believe the cold-blooded man on the phone.

Was once the boy who ran through half the city in a snowstorm just to buy me a cake.

It was also in that moment I finally understood.

The Ethan who loved me had long been dead.

Dead in the decadence of fame and fortune.

For Grandma, I could only wipe my tears.

It was also that day, looking at my haggard self in the mirror.

I finally decided to end this marriage that had made me unrecognizable.

But what made me miserable was far from over.

Grandma's illness couldn't wait. I could only choose to compromise.

That night at eight, I appeared on time at the TV station's studio.

The moment the spotlight came on, I felt a moment of disorientation.

Once, I was a regular here.

When Ethan first took over the group's media division, countless all-nighters were spent with me in the corner of this studio, helping him revise scripts and supervising rehearsals.

Back then the staff respectfully called me Ms. Harper.

But now, I sat on a cold bench at the edge of the guest seats.

While Sophie sat in the main seat, wearing a pure white business suit with exquisite makeup.

The live broadcast began.

Sophie smiled warmly at the camera:

"Today we have a special guest. She was once Mr. Walker's capable assistant, but for various reasons, regrettably departed. Let's welcome Ms. Charlotte Harper."

She emphasized the words "regrettably departed" heavily.

Immediately after, a series of photos appeared on the big screen behind me.

They were candid photos of me without makeup from the past few years when I was exhausted, contrasted with Sophie's polished and retouched images.

Sophie pretended to be shocked and covered her mouth:

"I heard your mental state hasn't been very good recently, always imagining non-existent business disputes. Actually, Mr. Walker has always been very understanding toward you, even keeping a nominal position for you at the company."

"Look, this is the mental health fund Mr. Walker set up for you. As long as you're willing to cooperate with treatment..."

She took out a document and waved it in front of the camera.

That wasn't any fund document at all—it was clearly a mental evaluation application.

I jerked my head up to look at Ethan in the audience.

He sat in the first row, hands folded, watching all this coldly.

Tacitly agreeing that I was a lunatic.

My hand holding the microphone was trembling. I wanted to refute.

But a cold prompt came through my earpiece from the director:

"Ms. Harper, if you don't want the hospital to lose power, please answer according to the script."

That was Grandma's ventilator lifeline! There absolutely couldn't be a power outage!

I closed my eyes and swallowed my hatred.

Under the gaze of millions of viewers, I nodded mechanically:

"Yes... my mental state isn't good."

"I misunderstood Ms. Sophie."

"I... don't deserve Ethan Walker."

In that moment, the comments exploded.

The studio's big screen scrolled real-time viewer comments, each one cutting to the heart:

"OMG, so she's crazy? I knew there was no way Goddess Sophie could be a homewrecker."

"This woman looks abnormal. No wonder Mr. Walker dumped her."

"A mental patient coming out to attack people? Suggest sending her straight to the asylum, don't let her harm society!"

"Crowdfunding to send her in, I'll contribute five bucks!"

"I'll contribute ten bucks to cleanse Mr. Walker's eyes!"

That half-hour live broadcast felt like a lifetime.

The moment the director called cut, Sophie immediately dropped her compassionate facade.

She walked up to me and in a voice only we could hear, laughed contemptuously:

"Charlotte, you see, this is how public opinion works now."

"As long as I control the narrative, I can make black seem white."

"Mr. Walker values his reputation. Your so-called past affection is worthless compared to my ratings."

I walked out of the TV station in a daze.

The night wind was cold, making my bones ache.

I thought this was rock bottom.

As long as I could save Grandma, enduring some humiliation was nothing.

At least I still had Grandma.

But fate loves to torment the unfortunate.