Chapter 1

My wife was mentally impaired. I stood by her side for six years, never leaving her, caring for her devotedly. Then, suddenly, she wasn't impaired anymore.

It turned out her first love was back, and she wanted me to step aside for him.

"You've had it good, haven't you? Living off my family for so long, you've milked us dry. Now it's time for you to go!"

"Be smart and walk away, and I won't hold it against you. But if you cause any trouble, I have a thousand ways to make your life miserable!"

Her eyes were clear, and she smiled as she threatened me.

I didn't argue. I readily agreed to her demands, even wishing them a lifetime of happiness.

Genevieve froze, but I smiled.

She had no idea I'd been waiting for this day for a long, long time!

"Sign this divorce agreement immediately!"

Perhaps because she had only just recovered, and her position wasn't entirely secure yet, Genevieve had specifically added a clause at the end of the agreement: "Officially effective one year from now."

"Don't get the wrong idea. This isn't for me." Her eyes flickered. "You've always relied on the Sinclair family's support. I'm giving you a year to prepare yourself. After that, don't ever bother me again."

I couldn't help but find her words ridiculous.

Her true intention couldn't have been clearer: she didn't want to be branded as ungrateful.

After all, I had cared for her for six long years while she had the mind of a child.

If she abandoned me the moment she recovered, it would definitely damage her reputation.

In short, it wouldn't help her ascend to power and become the head of the Sinclair empire.

That's why she insisted on us maintaining our marriage for another year.

I had to admire her incredible nerve and audacity.

My parents, however, urged me not to argue with Genevieve. They told me to use this year to win her heart back.

"Wealthy people often have affairs, Spencer," they said. "As long as they don't bring anyone home, just pretend you don't see anything they do outside."

"Spencer, why are you making this so difficult? As long as you stay by Genevieve's side, once she's done playing around, she'll come back to you eventually," they tried to convince me.

I just sneered and shook my head. "Mom, Dad, the gap between us is too wide. Her heart was never truly mine. Would you two want to live this kind of life?"

"Mom, Dad, you've really disappointed me."

If Genevieve had ever cared for me, this divorce agreement would never have appeared before me.

Back then, when Genevieve was fighting for control of the family corporation, she was unfortunately ambushed. A car accident left her mentally impaired, her IQ regressed to that of a five-year-old.

After that, from among the many eligible heirs, she chose me, an ordinary man from a humble background, to be her husband-in-name-only.

Though it was merely a contract, I still devoted myself to caring for her for six years. But now it seemed, perhaps, it was all part of her elaborate plan.

The competition for the Sinclair Group's heir was fierce, but in the end, it was she, the seemingly ignorant "fool," who played the long game and became the biggest winner.

Now that she'd achieved her goal, she naturally had no need to continue this charade with me, an outsider from a lesser family.

The night before she took control of Sinclair Inc., she changed into a designer gown, looking regal and distant.

Every movement she made seemed to announce that everything was under her control.

She coldly called my name: "Spencer Thorne."

It was that one call that made me realize I could no longer see the innocent girl who used to shyly grab my shirt and sweetly call me "brother."

Perhaps Genevieve was afraid I'd cling to her. Even though she was the one who stipulated I could only leave after a year, she kept warning me not to covet what wasn't mine.

And so, I, her titular husband, was forced to watch Genevieve parade her "first love" in front of me every single day.

When Asher Hayes moved into Genevieve's mansion, every corner of the house was adorned with festive decorations, as if they were about to have a wedding.

Genevieve, true to the corporate powerhouse she was, generously paid for all sorts of expensive custom suits and luxury sports cars for Asher.

It made me recall my own wedding to Genevieve.

Because she was mentally impaired back then and understood nothing, our wedding was rushed and incredibly simple.

She used to cry and tell me she would become really strong so no one could bully her big brother.

But now, she was the one bullying me.

And now, Genevieve, worried Asher would be bullied by outsiders, showered him with endless affection in public.

Anyone unaware would assume he was Genevieve's legitimate husband.

But it didn't really make a difference. My status as "husband" was just an empty title anyway.

To put it harshly, I was just her unpaid caretaker for six years.