Chapter 5

Charlotte POV

During the three days I handled Grandma's funeral, I disappeared.

There was no funeral service.

I went to the crematorium alone and watched Grandma turn into a small box.

Then I scattered her ashes in the river she loved most in life.

After doing all this, I returned to that villa.

I walked into the bedroom and started packing.

My clothes, gifts Ethan gave me.

Even our wedding photos—I threw everything into black garbage bags.

Only keeping Grandma's bankbook close to me.

At eight in the evening, Ethan came back.

He reeked of alcohol, obviously just coming from some party.

Seeing me sitting in the empty living room, he paused, frowning:

"Where have you been these past few days? Not answering calls either."

"Sophie said you called her that night? Didn't I tell you she was preparing for interviews, not to disturb her?"

He loosened his tie while complaining casually, his tone carrying a natural sense of reproach.

I sat on the sofa, quietly watching him.

Watching this face I'd loved for a full ten years.

At this moment, it felt terrifyingly unfamiliar.

"Ethan."

I spoke.

"Let's get divorced."

"I've already submitted the divorce registration. Whether you sign or not, it will go through the court process."

Ethan's movements paused, then he laughed mockingly and threw his tie on the sofa.

"This again? Charlotte, are you kidding me or what?"

"Still making a fuss three days later over a stupid award? How long are you going to keep this up?"

He obviously thought I was still angry about the live broadcast.

I took out the divorce agreement I'd already printed from my bag and placed it on the coffee table.

"I've already signed. I don't have any demands regarding property division."

"As long as you sign, I'll leave right now."

Ethan's eyes finally turned cold.

He picked up the agreement and glanced at it, as if he'd heard the funniest joke:

"Leave with nothing? Charlotte, are you insane?"

"Without me, where can you go?"

He didn't believe at all that I would really leave.

In his eyes, without him, Ethan Walker, I, Charlotte Harper, was like a dodder vine without water—couldn't survive three days.

"That's none of Mr. Walker's concern."

I stood up, picked up my already packed suitcase, and walked straight toward the door.

Ethan was enraged by my attitude.

He strode over and grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it felt like he wanted to crush my bones.

"Charlotte! Stop right there!"

"I'm giving you a way out and you're taking it! Don't be ungrateful!"

"Next week Sophie and I are going to the Maldives. You come too. Consider it my apology. Will that work?"

I looked down at my wrist, now red from his grip, and suddenly smiled.

"Mr. Walker, your apology is too valuable. I can't afford it."

"Also, let go."

"Otherwise, I'll call the police right now and report you for marital rape."

Ethan looked at me in disbelief, as if seeing me for the first time.

After a few seconds of standoff, he roughly let go of my hand, his face dark enough to drip water.

"Fine, impressive."

"Walk out that door and don't even think about coming back to beg me!"

"I want to see just how long you can keep this up."

I didn't look at him again. I pulled my suitcase and walked out the front door.

Sitting in the taxi, I took out my backup phone and dialed a number.

"Police?"

"Regarding evidence that Walker Group is suspected of using shell companies to launder money for a certain foundation, I've compiled everything."

"I want to file a real-name report that Sophie incited fans to cyberbully someone to death."

"All the evidence is on that USB drive."