Chapter 1

Introduction:

I had been Ethan's wife for seven years.

I took care of him down to the smallest detail, stayed up with him through the agonizing nights when the world attacked him, and waited for him to introduce me to everyone.

Yet at the charity gala, Ethan said in front of the entire room, "I don't know this woman. She has nothing to do with me."

I'm done waiting. After seven long years, I'm closing this chapter myself.

Chloe's POV

That night's gala was held at the most bustling, high-end hotel in the city, with crystal chandeliers cascading all the way to the foot of the grand staircase.

I didn't have an invitation. I simply slipped through the front doors behind a group of familiar faces, keeping my head down.

All I wanted was to exchange a few words with him.

As the doors to the side hall opened, I spotted him instantly.

Ethan was surrounded by a circle of guests, holding a glass of wine, exchanging quiet laughter with those around him.

The cuffs of his black suit were pressed perfectly—ironed by my own hands.

The laughter and chatter across the room mysteriously dwindled.

One by one, the people surrounding him turned around, their eyes drifting from my washed-out, slightly faded dress all the way up to my face.

Ethan looked over. His gaze lingered on me for a single second before sliding away.

He didn't speak loudly, but it was just loud enough for everyone nearby to hear: "I don't know this woman. She has nothing to do with me."

I froze right where I stood.

When I squeezed through those doors, only one thought had crossed my mind: he would see me, walk over, and guide me to his side in front of everyone.

He didn't even move an inch.

The year the Vance family took him back, he had stood in the pouring rain outside the Vance estate all night long, enduring their punishments without complaint. Afterward, he made a promise to me: once he held power, he would welcome me into that world openly and honorably.

Over the years, he told me to "just wait a little longer"—words I had heard more than a hundred times.

I always thought that if I just held out a bit more, I would reach the end of the tunnel.

Now, he had long been in power, but the title he owed me to the outside world remained empty.

The crowd stepped back half a pace.

Someone scanned my shoes from head to toe.

A woman switched her wine glass to her other hand and backed away.

"Must be here to cause a scene," someone whispered.

Another woman's voice sharpened. "Dressed like that, she has the nerve to crash this place? Does she really think our circle is something she can just barge into?"

My face burned fiercely.

I stepped forward half a pace, my voice trembling. "I'm not here to cause a scene. I'm just here to say one thing to him."

I looked at Ethan again. "Ethan, look at me. Say something."

Ethan turned his head away, not even lifting an eyelid. "Get security to escort her out. Don't let her be an eyesore."

Two security guards pushed through the crowd, grabbing me by the arms on both sides.

I didn't break free.

I only lifted my head, hoping he would look back at me just once.

He didn't.

Holding his glass of wine, he was swallowed back into the crowd, resuming his quiet laughter with the guests.

The guards hauled me through the main entrance, shoved me into a car, and took me to the police station to file a report.

The questioning stretched into the dead of night until only the night-shift lamp remained lit in the precinct.

The officer looked up and saw me. His pen paused, and he let out a long sigh without saying a word.

I sat on the cold metal chair, my wrists numb from the handcuffs.

The man I was waiting for didn't make a single call.

The officer pushed the statement in front of me, telling me to sign. "Think carefully. Once you sign this, you'll have a record tonight. If they turn around and sue you for harassment later, this signature is their evidence."

I held the pen, hesitating for a long time.

I wasn't thinking about evidence.

I was thinking that if he had just come tonight, I wouldn't be signing this paper all by myself.

I said, "I'll sign. I didn't do anything shameful tonight."

The officer didn't try to dissuade me further, simply nudging the pen a little closer to my hand.

As dawn approached, I dialed his assistant's number.

It rang for a long time before someone picked up, their voice hushed.

The assistant said, "Miss Hayes, Mr. Vance is entertaining guests. He's very busy."

"Does he know I'm here?" I asked.

The assistant replied, "He doesn't know, and it's best he doesn't."

"Why?" I asked. "Seven years together... what right does he have—"

The assistant cut me off, a trace of exhaustion in his tone. "Miss Hayes, Mr. Vance is marrying the daughter of the Sterling family now. He doesn't want to hear a single word about you. Stop calling."

In the background, faint music and laughter from the hotel drifted through the line.

Surrounded by that noise, he wouldn't even spare me a single sentence.

The call disconnected.

Holding the phone, I sat on that cold metal chair for a very long time.

The Sterlings.

I held that name in my mind for a while before I dared to process it.

All these years, I had counted every door he had to open in that family, felt every constraint placed on his hands and feet, believing that once he took power, those doors would open for me one by one.

The doors had already opened.

He held power, and the title he owed the outside world had already been promised—promised to the woman sitting at the head table tonight.

Every glass of wine he poured tonight, every diplomatic pleasantry he uttered, was purely for that family's eyes.

The one he wanted to marry was never me.

An officer couldn't bear to watch any longer and poured me a cup of water, setting it by my hand. "It's not worth it, not for a man like that."

Cradling the cup, I nodded. "I know. But I waited seven years."

I remembered our years in the orphanage. He was the skinniest boy there, bullied by everyone, and I would break my own bread in half to share with him.

The day he was adopted back by his wealthy family, I hid behind a wall, watching him get into the car.

I had bet seven full years on his promise to "wait a little longer."

I had bet it on a man who had long reserved that place for someone else.

Slowly, I raised my hand and touched my face.

The heat that had burned there was now completely cold.

The officer looked at me and shook his head. "Go home."

I stood up and smoothed out my clothes.

When I walked out of the police station, daylight had already broken.

People walked by on the street, no one sparing me a second glance.

The next time I see him, he won't have to acknowledge me. I will end these seven years myself.