After the Divorce, She Can Have It All

After completing the divorce procedures with Juan for the 99th time, Susan Laurent walked out of the City Hall.

She thought she would rush to her best friend's house, get drunk and vomit violently—just like she had done the first time Juan Parkston, her husband, filed for divorce. But then she remembered the doctor’s advice to take care of her health, so she simply made two cups of goji berries.

Returning home late at night to find Juan gone, she expected to spend the night scrolling through all his social media accounts, searching for any signs of infidelity—just like she had done the 33rd time he filed for divorce. But she was so exhausted, she slept straight through the night instead.

When the servant asked her what she wanted for breakfast, she assumed she would starve herself and lose ten pounds—just like she had the 66th time he filed for divorce. Instead, she ended up eating a table full of “Manhattan Banquet.”

On the seventh day after the divorce, she suddenly remembered she had forgotten to ask Juan for reconciliation.

Juan had once stipulated that if a cold war between them lasted more than three days without reconciliation, their relationship would be over. So, she thought, like she had done the 98th time, she would send Juan a “small essay” begging for reconciliation.

But Susan had barely sent him an emoji when Juan replied with a voice message, his tone languid, “We’ll talk about withdrawing the divorce application when we have time. I stained Ashley’s underwear. Buy her a pair. 36C.”

Susan suddenly thought it might not be so bad to forget about it altogether. So she deleted the essay. She decided not to withdraw the divorce application.

Soon, Juan sent another message, [Susan, don’t forget your other identity. You only have half an hour.]

Susan closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Besides being Juan’s wife, she was also his assistant. She had to do what her boss asked. Because it was her job.

At one o’clock in the morning, almost every lingerie store was closed. Susan ran several blocks and finally found Ashley’s size, but was caught in a sudden downpour.

On the way, she fell and arrived at the hotel in a miserable state, her knees bloodied and mangled.

When she arrived, Ashley wore a thin, revealing silk nightgown that clung to her fair skin, her eyes brimming with a sultry charm.

“Susan, please open the package before giving it to me. It’s all wet and filthy.”

She paused, “You don’t mind me calling you that, do you? After all, you’re Juan’s assistant, here to deliver the underwear. Public is public, private is private.”

A sardonic smile flickered in Susan’s eyes. Private was private... It seemed Ashley hadn’t forgotten that they had once been close friends. But three months ago, her best friend and her husband had ended up in the same bed.

Susan’s voice was hoarse, each word measured. “I don’t mind.”

She carefully opened the package, afraid the mud on her hands would dirty the underwear.

After receiving it, Ashley tore off the tag herself, but suddenly cried out, “That hurts!”

Her finger had been scratched by the sharp tag, leaving a shallow mark. Not even a drop of blood.

Juan, who had just been smoking on the balcony, immediately put out his cigarette and pulled her into an embrace, his eyes full of concern.

“How can you be so careless? Susan, how can you be an assistant? You didn’t even clean the tag? You got Ashley injured!”

Susan felt a sharp pain shoot through her knee, her breath catching in the throes of it. If Juan had just lowered his head, he would’ve seen the wound on her knee. But all he could see was the scratch on Ashley’s finger.

Juan frowned, his gaze filled with irritation and disappointment, “Can’t you even handle such a simple task?”

A thousand words caught in her throat, but Susan couldn’t speak. Juan’s anger at this moment wasn’t just disappointment in her work. Susan knew better than anyone else—He was disappointed in her as a person.

For years, she had clung to him like a lapdog, stifling him with resentment.

Susan had loved Juan since she was a child. She loved him so deeply that she gave up her pride for him and her affection was so obvious that everyone knew it.

She followed him through junior high and high school and studied hard to get into the same university. She announced to the world that she was his fiancée. Even though Juan never acknowledged it, she didn’t care. She was shameless enough to believe that she would marry him one day.

So, when Juan finally confessed his love, she felt as if all the fortune in the world had been poured into her lap. They dated, got engaged and got married...

Everyone said Susan had “everything she wanted.” She believed it too.

Until she caught Juan cheating for the first time—with a female university student. She had been hysterical, but Juan simply smoked a cigarette and casually mentioned “divorce.”

They went through with it, but it was Susan who regretted it.

She cried and begged him, “Can you just live a good life?”

Juan touched her face and nodded calmly, “Okay.”

But she grew increasingly suspicious. And Juan never failed to meet those suspicions.

The first time, the second time... until the 77th time, when Susan discovered Juan’s affair was with Ashley—her best friend from college.

That day, she ended her business trip early and rebooked a flight home overnight, just to see Juan sooner. But her plane nearly crashed. She narrowly escaped death, crouching in a corner of the airport trying to call Juan—but couldn’t reach him.

Braving the storm, she finally made it home, only to find her husband in bed with her best friend.

Amid the thunder, Ashley’s indifferent face suddenly became clear to Susan.

All the women Juan had cheated with bore at least five points of resemblance to Ashley. Perhaps Juan’s feelings for Ashley had been there far longer than she had realized.

That night, Susan had thrown a hysterical tantrum—but it was all in vain. The outcome never changed—She had taken the initiative to withdraw her divorce application.

And so, Juan and Ashley became increasingly blatant. He even asked Susan to personally deliver Ashley’s underwear.

She seemed to have gotten used to it. Faced with Juan’s questioning, she even professionally pulled a BandAid from her bag.

“Sorry, I’ll be more careful next time.”

Juan had once instructed Susan to always carry BandAids. But Juan himself rarely got hurt. She never understood why.

Until one day, Ashley bought Juan black coffee and scalded her hand. Juan immediately pulled a BandAid from Susan’s bag.

That was when Susan finally understood everything.

Juan carefully bandaged Ashley’s finger. Then he casually tossed Ashley’s used underwear over Susan’s head.

“Her hand is injured. Please help her wash it.”

Susan rushed into the bathroom in a panic. She clutched the damp underwear, staring at the evidence of Juan’s touch still on it. Her heart felt like it was being shredded apart, each breath heavy with pain.

Juan’s casual voice echoed from outside, “Wash it and hang it up, then you can leave. I’ll talk about canceling the divorce registration after I’m done with this. It depends on your performance.”

With her back to Juan, Susan finally closed her eyes, hot tears falling silently down her cheeks. No, there was no need to cancel it.

Juan, this time, I really want to divorce you.

After leaving the hotel, Susan did only two things. First, she submitted her resignation online.

Second, she called an old friend far away in a foreign country.

“Frank, you said before that if I had nowhere else to go, I could always come see you. Is that true?”

Frank’s voice was hoarse, but the excitement in it was unmistakable, “You’re always welcome.”

He paused, “But if you weren’t madly in love with Juan, why would you suddenly want to leave him?”

Susan smiled bitterly, “The coolingoff period for Juan and I still has 23 days left. Please buy me a plane ticket.”

Susan let out a sigh of relief after receiving the flight booking confirmation from Frank.

Frank and she had been childhood friends, practically sharing a pair of trousers and he had harbored a crush on her for many years.

After she decided to marry Juan, Frank confessed his love and even said he wanted to elope with her.

After Susan turned him down, he moved all the family businesses abroad. She had thought they would never see each other again. But she hadn't expected...

A glint of mockery flashed in Susan's eyes as she began packing her belongings. She had spent the entire night going through her things, only to discover, somewhat comically, that the only luggage she could take with her had nothing to do with Juan.

It didn’t even fill a 24inch suitcase.

She marked a red circle on her calendar. On the 6th of next month—22 days later—she would finally obtain her divorce certificate.

Juan’s voice suddenly rang out, “The 6th? Isn’t that the day our divorce takes effect?”

Before Susan could respond, he sneered, unable to conceal his sarcasm, “What? Are you worried I’ll make you withdraw your divorce application before the 6th?”

Susan’s face paled and she was about to deny it.

Juan hurriedly turned and walked away due to a sudden call from Ashley.

Before leaving, he managed only to remind her, “Remember to come to the office today. I have something important to announce.”

Susan had originally planned to go to the company to finalize her resignation. But to her surprise, everyone there seemed genuinely delighted to see her.

“Susan, congratulations! Now that the special assistant, Mr. Randall is leaving, it’s your turn to take over his position, right?”

“Yes, our secretariat will be relying on you to look after us.”

“You’ve been with Mr. Parkston for so many years. If not for your contributions, you've certainly worked hard. If Mr. Parkston wasn’t so used to being taken care of by you, you would’ve been promoted long ago. How could you still be where you are today?”

Susan was a little stunned. Was Juan really talking about this?

She couldn’t help but smile, then quickly waved her hand, politely insisting it was baseless.

But she knew better than anyone else that, apart from the poached Mr. Randall, she was the only one with both the qualifications and capability to handle the position of Chief Secretary.

But what a shame—she was leaving.

At the morning meeting, Susan carefully prepared an 80degree Americano with milk for Juan, adding six ice cubes.

Juan pushed open the door and entered. Always meticulous and unerring in his appearance, he even had a red rose pinned to his highend black suit.

“Susan, come here,” Juan said calmly, waving her over. “While everyone’s here, I have an announcement to make today.”

Colleagues close to Susan were already winking at her.

Someone joked, “Susan, don’t forget to treat us to dinner.”

Looking at Juan’s serious and determined gaze, Susan couldn’t hide her embarrassment but mustered the courage to refuse,

“Mr. Parkston, you don’t need to give the supervisor position...”

“You know?” Juan raised an eyebrow slightly, interrupting her with a hint of surprise. “I’ve decided to give the position of supervisor of the secretarial office to Ashley. She’s new and doesn’t have much experience in the business. Please mentor her for the time being.”

Almost everyone was stunned. Susan felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over her head.

Ashley walked in, wearing tencentimeter high heels and clutching a large bouquet of red roses.

“Please take good care of me, everyone,” she said triumphantly.

Everyone noticed the roses—identical to the one on Juan’s chest. All the congratulatory smiles around Susan instantly turned to shock, curiosity and suspicion.

Her phone beeped. In a certain company chat room, everyone was engaged in a heated discussion.

[What’s going on? Mr. Parkston isn’t promoting Susan? Aren’t they still married?]

[You don’t know, huh? Susan earned the title Mrs. Parkston by clinging to him. She’s been chasing after Mr. Parkston since they were kids, even when he started working—insisting on being his assistant. What man could put up with that?]

[I heard Susan’s divorcing Mr. Parkston because of Ashley?]

[Do you really believe she’ll go through with it? Everyone knows she’s fought with Mr. Parkston 98 times and every time she’d end up tearfully begging him to take her back.]

[Stop talking. Look who’s in the chat room.]

All discussion came to an abrupt halt.

At that moment, Susan felt utterly exposed—like she had been stripped bare and roasted on a scorching stove. She didn’t dare look up at Juan and simply stood there stiffly, forcing herself to sound professional.

“Yes, Mr. Parkston. I understand.”

Ashley stepped forward and intimately hooked her arm around Susan’s, speaking loudly in front of everyone, “Susan, go make me some coffee.”

She smiled sweetly, her voice edged with irony, “You should remember what I like to drink, right?”

Of course Susan remembered. After all, they had once been close friends.

A sardonic smile flickered in her eyes and Susan nodded almost mechanically, “I remember.”

Ashley smiled with satisfaction. “When it’s ready, send it to Mr. Parkston’s office. I just have some work to report to Mr. Parkston.”

She had just assumed the supervisory position and didn’t even understand the business yet. What work could she possibly report?

Susan soon figured out what kind of “work” Ashley meant. From inside the room, Ashley’s unbearable moans echoed. Peeking through the door—which had been deliberately left ajar—Susan saw Juan’s intense eyes as he pressed Ashley against the large office chair, kissing her fervently.

Ashley’s high heels had creased the leather of the chair. Susan couldn’t help but recall her first days as an assistant at Parkston’s.

She plopped down into her office chair. Juan, his face dark with anger, grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet.

“Susan, don’t bring your family affairs to work. Public matters are public, private ones are private. I hope you understand your place. I’m the president of Parkston Group. This isn’t the place for you to sit.”

Susan’s eyes reddened as she smiled faintly. So this was what Juan meant by separating public and private matters?

Leaving her brewed coffee at the door, Susan went straight to the HR department to submit a printed copy of her resignation letter.

The HR representative looked stunned. “Susan, are you really resigning? Does Mr. Parkston know?”

Susan replied calmly, “He’ll find out soon.”

Susan took the expedited resignation paperwork from HR and headed to Juan for his signature.

Before she could knock, Juan had already emerged, carrying Ashley in his arms and kicked the office door open.

“Call 120! Ashley is having an allergic reaction!” he shouted impatiently, his face grim.

Susan lost her balance, stumbled back two steps and struck her lower back against the corner of the table. The sharp pain caused a cold sweat to break out on her forehead, but Juan didn’t notice.

He simply commanded her, “Take off your shoes. Give Ashley your flats.”

Juan gently removed Ashley’s skyhigh heels, being careful not to hurt her. Then he casually tossed the heels at Susan. The sharp heel grazed Susan’s arm. Her face turned pale and her heart throbbed.

“Juan, I can’t wear high heels.”

Susan had once broken her ankle while saving Juan. When he suddenly fainted, she rushed to protect the back of his head from hitting the floor. In the process, her own right foot had fractured. After she woke up, Juan had bought her an entire wall of flat shoes. His eyes had been solemn.

“Don’t hurt yourself anymore.”

From then on, she wore only flats.

She had worked hard to protect herself. But now, Juan was asking her to give them away—to Ashley.

A flicker of irony crossed her eyes and Susan shook her head slightly. “You know, my ankle…”

Juan interrupted, “That happened years ago. It still hasn’t healed?”

His brow furrowed, his voice edged with impatience. “Then don’t wear any shoes yet.”

Susan froze, disbelief clouding her expression.

Juan, clearly out of patience, waved his hand. “Hurry! Ashley’s condition can’t wait.”

His bodyguards shoved Susan onto the table and forcefully removed her flats. Barefoot on the cold floor, under everyone’s strange and curious glances, Susan felt as though a boulder was pressing down on her chest, suffocating her.

She didn’t know how long she had been sitting there. When she finally stood, staggering slightly, no one was around. No one had come to help her.

Clutching her resignation letter tightly, she hobbled off to find a pair of shoes.

The sun blazed overhead. The asphalt scorched her bare feet and blisters began to form. She was just about to pay for a pair when a familiar Lincoln pulled up beside her.

The door opened and Juan’s bodyguard tossed her inside.

“Sorry, ma’am. Mr. Parkston asked us to take you to the hospital.”

In the ward, Ashley’s face was swollen and flushed red, her eyes bloodshot. Juan sat on the sofa, his expression stony as he slowly rotated the Swiss watch on his wrist.

“Susan, apologize to Ashley.”

Susan frowned in confusion. “Why?”

“Juan, don’t be like this.” Ashley let out a selfdeprecating laugh. “I took Susan’s position and I also stole her husband. I was wrong. I deserve to die. She put almonds in my coffee. I deserve it.”

Suddenly, she looked up—and with a loud slap, she hit herself across the face.

“Susan, I’m just a disgusting mistress. You want me dead. I understand. But I just can’t control my heart…” She gave a bitter smile and gently shook her head. “Don’t worry. From today on, I won’t see Mr. Parkston again.”

With that, she threw back the covers and got out of bed. Her soft, pale feet stepped into the flat shoes that had once belonged to Susan.

Juan’s strong hands gently held her feet.

“Lie down peacefully.” His voice was gentle, full of tenderness.

But when he turned to Susan, only cold indifference remained. “Susan, I never intended to give you the supervisor position. With your capabilities, you’re truly unfit.”

Susan looked up in shock, her face draining of color.

“You’re certainly good at taking care of me and you’re suited to being a good wife and mother, but do you really think you can manage an entire secretarial office? So Ashley wasn’t wrong in this matter.”

“As for what happened between her and me…” Juan scoffed, eyes brimming with mockery. “She’s already apologized to you. Shouldn’t you apologize for nearly killing her?”

Susan’s body turned cold. “I didn’t do it.”

Ashley, looking wounded, teetered slightly. “Susan, the coffee cup showed a high concentration of almonds. Besides you, my best friend, who else would know about my allergy?”

“I told you, I didn’t do it.” Susan closed her eyes, emphasizing each word.

“That’s enough.” Juan had had it. He seized Ashley’s wrist and slapped Susan across the face.

Susan’s ears rang from the blow.

Juan said coldly, “Ashley, you cared about sisterhood, but she nearly killed you.”

“I’m here now, so don’t be afraid. I’ll get justice for you.”

“Hit me!”

Ashley struck Susan again. Once, twice, three times… Susan was slapped herself ten times.

Her face became swollen and red, blood trickled from the corners of her mouth and the pain numbed both her body and her heart. Those ten slaps didn’t just teach her a cruel lesson—they handed justice to Ashley. And they shattered the last remnants of love Susan held for Juan.

Three days later, at Juan’s request, Susan accompanied him to a project event.

In the car, Susan finally submitted her resignation.

But Juan didn’t even glance at it; he simply signed. Susan instinctively asked, “Don’t you want to take a look?”

“They’re just some unimportant documents you’ve been assigned to handle,” Juan replied flatly, pinching his temple. “I’m too lazy to read.”

Susan smiled and said nothing more.

When they arrived at the restaurant and sat down, Ashley plopped down beside Juan, who carefully poured her tea.

Mr. Chuck, a business partner, smiled and said, “Is this your wife? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Juan didn’t deny it but simply gave a faint smile. Susan quietly sat in the corner, feeling insignificant—treated like a mere intern.

The middleaged man next to her repeatedly took advantage of the situation by toasting her.

Juan seemed oblivious. He was preoccupied with shielding Ashley from drinking. “She’s allergic to alcohol and can’t drink,” he said.

Mr. Chuck looked displeased. “Mr. Parkston, since we’re sincerely discussing cooperation and Mrs. Parkston isn’t drinking a single glass—isn’t that a bit disrespectful to me?”

“If you want Mrs. Parkston to drink your glass of wine, fine.” Juan raised his eyelids and waved at Susan. “She’s my wife, Susan.”

The atmosphere at the table froze and almost everyone turned their eyes toward the corner. Juan had acknowledged her identity only to use her to shield Ashley from drinking.

But Juan had completely forgotten that Susan had given up alcohol long ago—after drinking herself into gastric bleeding earlier that year to secure a project. Mr. Chuck placed a bottle of baijiu directly in front of her.

“Mr. Parkston, I specifically asked Miss Ashley to drink with me, but you wanted to change her,” he said. “Since we’re changing, then naturally the number of glasses must change as well.”

“This bottle—half for you and half for me. Isn’t that fair?”

Susan clenched her glass tightly and instinctively glanced at Juan. She hoped he would say something—anything—in her favor.

But all she saw was Juan’s indifferent face and concerned tone, “Next time there are occasions like this, always bring Susan with you. She’s quite the drinker.”

Susan smiled sadly and downed the entire bottle of alcohol in one go. Not for any noble reason, but because she’d followed this project for two years.

There were only a dozen days left before the divorce coolingoff period ended. She wanted to wrap up the project properly before leaving.

By the end of the drink, her stomach was burning and even Susan’s breath smelled of rust and blood. But without anyone telling her to stop, she didn’t dare. She drank cup after cup, her vision spinning, until she finally couldn’t hold back and vomited violently.

Amidst the filth, a glaring red pool appeared.

Everyone panicked. “Susan, are you okay? You’ve been drinking until you vomited blood!”

Finally, Susan saw Juan’s expression change drastically. He suddenly stood up and rushed toward her.

A colleague grabbed Susan’s arm, eyes filled with helplessness.

“Susan, tell me—you're about to resign. Why are you drinking like this?”

“Resign?” Juan’s voice suddenly exploded from behind. “What do you mean by resign?”

Susan was forced to look up, meeting Juan’s dark, stormy gaze.

His face was livid. “Susan, are you resigning?”

Susan was terrified and instinctively concealed the truth. “No. He got the wrong person. It’s another assistant who’s resigning.”

Juan’s brow furrowed, but before he could press further, the door suddenly burst open.

Ashley appeared—her hair disheveled, her slip dress torn, revealing a glimpse of her body. Her eyes were red and filled with tears, making her look pitiful.

“Juan, save me!” she screamed. “Someone’s trying to rape me!”

She collapsed into Juan’s arms, trembling and feverish.

“My water was drugged. If I hadn’t stabbed myself, I wouldn’t have been able to face you again!”

Juan then noticed the shallow cut on Ashley’s palm. Blood flowed and his expression darkened with rage.

“What are you all standing there for? Go catch them!”

Juan immediately tore off his shirt, cut pieces of white cloth with scissors and wrapped them around Ashley’s wound.

Susan still remembered that shirt. It was the one Juan had worn at their wedding—a limited edition, highend model she had purchased after traveling through countless countries. He’d said he would cherish it. Now, he had destroyed it with his own hands.

Susan lowered her eyes, hiding the glint of mockery within them. The alleged culprit was dragged in by the bodyguards and thrown at Ashley’s feet.

Ashley screamed in fear. “It’s him! It’s him! He almost ruined my innocence!”

The man was doused with a bucket of ice water, snapping him out of his drunken state. After realizing what had happened, he collapsed, pale and horrified.

“I—I’m innocent, Mr. Parkston! I was drugged and I lost control of myself. It was this bottle of liquor. After I drank it…”

Suddenly, he straightened up and pointed at Susan, “It was her! It was this woman who drugged Miss Tisdale and me—and had someone lock us in the same room. She did all this on purpose!”

At that moment, Juan trembled, his hawklike gaze narrowing on Susan. Her stomach churned and she remained slumped on the floor, stunned.

Looking up, she met Ashley’s halfsmile—sinister and cold—and instantly understood everything.

This was another trap.

In fact, there were many details that pointed to Susan’s innocence. But Juan didn’t believe her.

So, no matter what she said, it was a capital crime.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Juan looked down at her, his voice laced with disappointment. “Susan, you’re a stranger to me right now.”

“To avoid divorcing me, you’ve resorted to such disgusting tactics. Have you ever considered how Ashley will cope after you’ve ruined her innocence?”

Susan was drenched in cold sweat from the pain. She had no strength to argue. She closed her eyes, exhausted.

“Whatever you think,” she said in a low voice.

Juan flung everything off the table with a deafening crash. His eyes blazed with terrifying rage.

“Well, even after all this, you still don’t repent. In that case, let’s give her a taste of her own medicine! Come on—pour all this liquor into her stomach!”

Susan froze, staring at Juan in disbelief, almost questioning her own sanity. She had already bled from her stomach. To vent his anger over Ashley, he actually tried to force more laced liquor into her body?

“No,” Susan rasped, shaking her head. “Juan, I’ll die…”

Susan’s mouth was pried open. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t stop the burning liquor from flooding into her stomach. She spat blood against the wall before collapsing into unconsciousness. Her last sight was Juan’s retreating back, walking away without the slightest hesitation.

Susan couldn’t help but smile in despair and wondered in silence, Juan, do you really love me? If you do, would you truly be willing to treat me like this?

Opening her eyes, Susan felt a pair of rough hands groping her. Someone covered her mouth and a sharp slap across her face made her ears ring. "This woman is really something. If she hadn’t been drugged, how would we have gotten our turn?"

Susan then realized the primal desire surging within her body. She couldn’t help but curl up. Her eyes bloodshot, she bit down hard on the man’s hand. With a loud crack, he slapped her again.

"Easy! Mr. Parkston told us to play around, not kill her!"

Hearing that, a chill ran down Susan’s spine. It was him. It was actually him... Susan couldn’t help but laugh softly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

As the sickening stench hit her face, Susan steeled herself and rammed her head into him. She somehow found the strength to tear off the rag covering her eyes, grabbed a nearby vase and smashed it over the man's head with all her might.

Before bolting from the room, Susan caught a glimpse of a familiar face. She remembered that man. He was Ashley’s cousin.

Stumbling home in a disheveled mess, Susan couldn’t wait to tell Juan the truth. But as she approached, the frantic sounds of breathing and moaning sent her spiraling into a whirlwind of despair.

"No, no more..." Juan’s voice was hoarse, frantic and lost in confusion. "No more? Didn’t you ask me to help you with the antidote?"

Susan stood frozen, stunned, feeling like the whole situation was beyond absurd. Her husband was administering the antidote to another woman, while she had just barely escaped a horrifying assault.

She no longer expected Juan to help her uncover the truth. For the next ten days, she reviewed surveillance footage, called the police and received treatment for her injuries at the hospital. She handled everything on her own.

One by one, she tore off the calendar pages. The date of her divorce approached closer and closer.

Finally, with only seven days left before her departure, Susan gathered all the evidence. She was determined to clear her name before she walked away for good.

She returned to the villa and laid everything out in front of Juan, "Juan, it wasn’t me who drugged her that night. It was Ashley’s cousin."

Unexpectedly, she was met with suffocating silence.

Ashley’s body went limp, her expression shifting through confusion and disbelief. "How is that possible?"

Susan pointed at her face, her voice trembling with fury. "Ashley, don’t pretend. You conspired with your cousin and let him do this to me..."

Before she could finish, Juan cut her off impatiently, "So what?"

Those two simple words, cold and dismissive, struck Susan like a blow to the chest. Her eyes widened in disbelief before tears spilled over.

"I’m going to call the police. She framed me. Slandered me. I can’t let this go."

Ashley began to sob, her voice trembling. "Susan, you misunderstood. I really don’t know anything! My cousin—he just wanted to help me. He acted on his own... Juan, he did this for my sake. Please, don’t hurt him, okay?"

"I only have this one brother. If anything happens to him, I won’t want to live anymore!" Ashley said, ready to slam her head against the wall.

Juan pulled her into his arms. His expression darkened and he nearly roared, "Enough! Don’t you just want to divorce me? Why are you making up so many excuses to mess with me?"

Juan closed his eyes and let out a sharp breath, "Fine, I promise. As long as you stop stirring things up, I’ll go with you to cancel the divorce registration in a few days. Is that okay?"

He looked as if he was conceding everything.

But Susan only sneered, "What if I insist on suing?"

A flash of disgust crossed Juan’s eyes, "Then I’ll send Ashley’s cousin abroad before you do."

He turned to Ashley with unwavering tenderness, "Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to your cousin."

"Take her. Lock the lady in the basement first. No one is to let her out without my permission!"

Susan stumbled as the bodyguard dragged her away, slamming her against the wall. She let out a burst of hollow laughter, tears slipping freely down her face.

Before being shoved into the basement, Juan caught sight of her devastated expression—and a sharp pang pierced his heart. He opened his mouth, as if to say something more.

But Ashley had already taken his hand. "Juan, let’s take my cousin to the airport now, okay?"

Juan looked away, unable to dwell on the strange heaviness rising inside him because of Susan.

She loved him so deeply. She had always forgiven him. Just like how she had forgiven his 99 betrayals.

In reality, Susan had always been terrified of cramped, dark environments. Once, in an attempt to save Juan from a kidnapping, she had been held captive in a cellar for an entire week—beaten and verbally abused—leaving her in unbearable pain.

Juan had known she was afraid of the dark, of confined spaces. Still, he had stuffed her into that dark, damp basement.

Susan curled up in a corner, her eyes so dry she couldn’t even shed a single tear. It was as if she had become completely numb to the pain Juan inflicted on her.

And so, in the basement, Susan counted down the days, enduring the torment. Six days, five days, four days... She was terrified of missing her flight.

Luckily, with only three days left, the basement door finally opened. A pair of tencentimeter high heels appeared before Susan. Ashley looked down at her, eyes brimming with mockery.

"Susan, you're so shameless. Even after all this, you're still thinking about withdrawing your divorce application from Juan? Do you really want to be his dog?"

She reached out and thrust an electric baton into Susan. The searing pain nearly took her breath away. She collapsed to the ground, eyes bloodshot, yet no tears came.

Hearing all this, she remained strangely calm, even managing a faint smile, "Ashley, is Juan really that good to you?"

Ashley sneered, "You should know better than I do, right? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have clung to Juan for so many years. It’s not him who’s so amazing—it’s the mighty Parkston Family behind him."

Ashley bent down and jabbed the baton into her again.

Susan's face turned ghostly pale from the pain, "Soon, everything will be as you wish."

"Ideally," Ashley scoffed. "After all, from beginning to end, Juan’s heart has only ever belonged to me."

Susan froze. Her eyes widened as a chill spread through her body, "What do you mean?"

"Oh, so you didn’t know!" Ashley covered her lips, feigning surprise.

"You chased Juan for years and he never said yes. Did you never wonder why he suddenly confessed to you in college? Of course, it was because he wanted to confess to me!"

Ashley laughed triumphantly, "It’s a pity that back then, I didn’t realize how important the Parkston Family would be to me, so I rejected him. I never thought that, out of spite, he would turn around and confess to you—and even marry you!"

A low thunder rumbled from above, as if the world cracked open. All the strength in Susan’s body vanished. Her eyes turned bloodshot. She sprang to her feet, shoved Ashley aside and bolted upstairs.

No. Impossible!

Juan had clearly liked her. He clearly had feelings for her.

Susan rummaged through her closet and finally found the glass bottle filled with paper cranes—Juan’s gift when he confessed his love.

With a crash, she smashed the bottle, the flying shards slicing her skin. Susan, completely oblivious to the pain, crouched down like a madwoman, picking up each paper crane and unfolding them one by one.

[Ashley, I fell in love with you the first time I saw you.]

[Ashley, you're so adorable when you're angry.]

[Ashley, there's really nothing between Susan and me. Don’t misunderstand.]

Susan had treasured these confessions to Ashley like precious tokens, hoarding them for a full ten years. She was truly ridiculous.

Her entire body trembled uncontrollably as she let out one mournful laugh after another. Finally, two lines of tears streamed from her eyes, washing away the dryness—tears of anguish and devastation.

Susan didn’t know how long she had cried.

After nightfall, she swept up the shattered glass on the floor like a ghost, then tossed all the paper cranes into the brazier, watching them burn to ash.

Once everything had turned to cinders, Juan pushed the door open and walked in. He was carrying Ashley in his arms, his expression full of fury.

"Susan, look at you!"

Susan stared at him without expression, even managing a faint smile, "Mr. Parkston, may I ask what I’ve done?"

Juan felt a stab in his chest. "What’s with that tone? To escape from the basement, you actually knocked Ashley unconscious and left her lying there alone all afternoon!"

Susan stared at him blankly, "Is that what Ashley told you? Whether I knocked her unconscious or not, you could’ve asked the servants. Mr. Parkston, to protect Ashley, you even argued over something so trivial. Can’t bear to see her hurt?"

Juan’s chest heaved with anger, his eyes burning coldly, "You think I didn’t ask?"

Before Susan could react, a servant stepped forward.

"Mr. Parkston, I saw it myself. It was Madam who injured Miss Tisdale."

"Yes, yes. She even used a stun gun on Miss Tisdale!"

One of them even dropped to their knees while saying, "Madam, please stop being so stubborn. Don’t you want to cancel your divorce registration with Mr. Parkston? If you keep acting like this, he might never forgive you!"

Susan stared at them, eyes filled with disbelief. But all she felt was an overwhelming emptiness. She had always treated them kindly. In the end, they were nothing more than sycophants. Susan no longer had the strength to argue.

She simply closed her eyes and smiled faint, "What would you have done if I had done it?"

Juan immediately raised his hand and slammed it against the door, veins bulging across the back of his hand.

"Susan, you’ve disappointed me so much! Bring in the family discipline!"

His eyes were bloodshot, his voice like a growl, "She’s not allowed back in this house until she’s been lashed a hundred times!"

With a sharp crack, agony tore across Susan’s back.

The saltwatersoaked whip landed mercilessly, ripping her skin open, leaving blood and torn flesh in its wake. Yet Susan didn’t utter a single cry. She endured it until her entire body was soaked in sweat, as if she’d just stepped out of a storm. She fainted, woke up and fainted again—hovering near death.

When she finally regained consciousness, she was already in a hospital room.

The first thing Susan did was glance at the time on her phone.

It was the 6th.

She thought vaguely to herself, soon, I can leave…

Juan took her hand in his, his voice softening, "Susan, as long as you don’t try to harm Ashley again, I can go with you to cancel the divorce."

Susan closed her eyes, her expression calm, "Okay."

Juan added, "After all, you’ve been married for years and you and Ashley are close friends. There’s no need to make things so tense."

Susan responded again, "Okay."

She looked so quiet, so obedient.

A strange feeling stirred in Juan’s heart. He frowned, about to speak again.

But suddenly, the phone rang loudly and Ashley’s voice filled the room, "Juan, I’m having another nightmare. Where are you? I want to see you. You know I was locked in the cellar for a week..."

Susan’s eyes shifted slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing them, "Cellar? She also…"

But before she could finish, Juan had already let go of her hand and rushed out.

Watching Juan’s Lincoln disappear into the distance, Susan, despite the stabbing pain in her body, she changed into casual clothes and headed to the City Hall.

Juan had completely forgotten that today marked the end of their onemonth coolingoff period. He would never need to accompany her to cancel the divorce registration.

This time, they were truly divorced.

After receiving the divorce certificate, Susan mailed Juan’s copy to him.

She also enclosed her resignation letter, along with all the evidence she had gathered proving Ashley’s slander and false accusations.

She made a copy of the evidence and asked a friend to report it to the authorities.

Once everything was settled, Susan boarded a plane to a foreign country.

Before takeoff, she sent a text to Frank, [I’m leaving. Landing in twelve hours.]

Then, with a cold and steady gaze, Susan snapped her SIM card in half without hesitation. She vowed never to return to the Parkston Family again.

The night was as dark as ink. As the plane soared into the sky, she saw the stars twinkling.

She knew that it was guiding her to pursue a better self.