Chapter 3

I nodded without a word and turned to head upstairs.

"Wait!"

Julian called out suddenly.

"Could you clean yourself up outside before coming home next time?"

"Natalie can't stand the smell of blood. It makes her sick to her stomach."

I stopped dead on the stairs, turning back to cast a long look over the two of them.

Natalie shrank timidly behind Julian, looking terrified of me.

"Understood," I said quietly, turning around and continuing up the steps.

Julian didn't know.

The blood on my hem belonged to Gabe, his right-hand man.

A few nights later, in the middle of an overseas video conference, I went down to the kitchen to pour myself some coffee. The moment my fingers hit the light switch, the bright glare illuminated a disgusting scene—

Julian had Natalie pinned against the refrigerator door, their clothes pulled apart, tangled together in raw, messy heat.

The sudden light made Natalie gasp, burying her face into the crook of Julian's neck. Julian whipped his head around to glare at me, the guilt that once lingered in his eyes entirely gone.

All that remained was pure, irritated disgust.

"Get out!"

I didn't say a word, didn't even spare them a second glance.

I simply picked up the fresh pot of coffee, walked out of the kitchen, and softly pulled the door shut behind me.

Back in the study, my lieutenants on the other end of the screen were still waiting quietly for their orders.

"Too slow," I told them, my voice flat.

"Adjust the timeline. Finish everything within three days."

I glanced at the ownership breakdown of Julian's core shell companies lying on the desk, adding one final command:

"Rip out the rest of his roots. Burn them to ashes."

The night Julian’s last loyal henchman took his final breath, it was pouring rain.

Uncle Joe was in the living room, binding a deep, jagged gash on my forearm that nearly exposed the bone.

Julian walked down the stairs with his arm wrapped around Natalie. He looked past my gruesome wound with cold indifference, not even bothering with basic courtesy. Instead, he tossed a set of divorce papers onto the coffee table before me.

His voice dripped with impatience.

"Scarlett, let's get a divorce."

I didn't speak, sitting still until Uncle Joe finished tying off the bandage.

Only then did I speak softly.

"You said I would always be your only wife."

Julian sighed, pulling out a convenient, noble excuse.

"People change, Scarlett."

"I won't let my child grow up carrying the label of a bastard."

He leaned forward, gently sliding a pen toward my fingers.

"Just sign it."

"Don't worry. In my heart, you will always be my only wife."

Only then did I finally lift my eyes and truly look at him.

The gauze had come off Julian's face today. Jagged, purplish scars crossed his features, twisting the flesh into an ugly mess.

Ugh. Truly hideous.

It made my stomach churn.

Instead of taking the pen, I brought my hand back and slammed it across his jaw.

*Smack!*

Julian never expected me to hit him. The force sent his head snapping to the side.

"Scarlett, you—"

I didn't give him a single breath to recover. I stepped forward, grabbed him by the collar, yanked him close, and unleashed a barrage of ruthless slaps across both sides of his face.

*Smack! Smack! Smack!*

The sound was sharp, vicious, and relentless.

The fresh, fragile scar tissue that had barely knit together split wide open under my palms, blood instantly spraying outward.

Only when my hands were coated in his blood did I shove him back in disgust. Julian stumbled backward several steps, barely keeping his feet when Natalie rushed forward to catch him.

I took the wet towel Uncle Joe handed me, slowly wiping down my fingers and palms.

"For the past two weeks, I've tolerated you far too much."

"And now you want a divorce?"

Before the sentence finished, I flicked my wrist and hurled the bloodied towel straight into his ruined face.