Chapter 1
When Edward Smith and Emily Johnson divorced, he had to ask her one last question. “So, what are you planning to do now that you’re single?” She looked at him, her expression steadfast. “I’m going to do things that I like.” From all his years with her, Edward assumed that someone as graceful as Emily would retreat to a quiet cabin in the woods to paint and play music, creating a peaceful life away from the chaos. But three months later, amidst a board meeting at Herald Holdings, Edward’s world flipped upside down when he caught sight of a familiar figure on his laptop screen. “Welcome back, everyone! Today I’ll show you how to fool your ex-husband! Hit that like button, let’s get this yacht party started!” The laughter in her voice struck a note he hadn’t heard in a while. A moment later, the chat filled with “submarine” emojis sent by the same person, rattling him to his core. “Thanks… um, ex-hubby?” Emily grinned, her shimmering eyes catching his. “Emily,” Edward said, his voice low as he stepped into the room, leaning casually against the door frame. His shirt was slightly askew, suit jacket draped over his arm, the playful light in his eyes giving her that familiar rush. “How’s it going?” *** Later, he confronted her. “Why the act? Why pretend to be so elegant?” “Honestly? I liked you,” she replied, the honesty cutting through the air. “And now?” he pressed, a mix of confusion and curiosity in his tone. “Now? Not so much.” He realized that behind the facade he had admired was a woman who had propped up her fragile pride with a humble kind of love, one that he had misread all along.
Chapter 2
**Prologue** April in Southwick was damp and stifling, the air thick with humidity that made every breath a struggle. The rain had started falling the night before and continued to blur the world outside as Emily Johnson stepped out her front door. After a moment’s thought about her route, she chose a pair of understated, pointed-toe heels to pair with a sleek dress and a light trench coat. She kept her makeup minimal before heading out into the gray morning. “Auntie?” The sound of the door echoed in the small apartment, prompting a head to pop out from the kitchen. “Are you going out, Madam?” “Yeah.” Emily’s voice was quiet and steady. “I’m driving myself. No need to call Old Zhang.” “Will you be back for dinner?” “Nope.” As she opened her umbrella, she added lightly, “Edward and I probably won’t be back for dinner. Just get something for you and Old Zhang.” With that, Emily closed the door behind her. Waiting at the foot of the stairs was a young woman in her twenties, bursting with energy. With one hand holding the umbrella and the other clutching a stack of documents, she rushed to hold the umbrella over Emily before sliding into the driver’s seat. Emily drove smoothly, her speed always just under the limit. Sure, there might have been a few times she edged toward a little faster, but nothing crazy. This was the rhythm Evelyn Williams had learned over the months as her assistant—steady, composed. As they glided forward through the rain-slick streets, Evelyn warily glanced at Emily and reported, “Mr. Smith’s schedule is locked. He finishes his morning meeting at ten and is free to meet us afterwards. Benjamin Brown is on his way. He’ll be waiting for us at the office when we arrive. All the documents are printed and ready. You just need to give them a final glance.” Emily nodded, flipping open the file in her lap. Inside were two divorce agreements. “Benjamin prepared two divorce settlements according to your instructions: one that leaves you empty-handed, and another that secures the most assets for you. The main focus is on that 5% stake in the Smith Consortium. With that contract, you’d walk away with at least 60% of Mr. Smith’s assets.” “That 5% stake was Lillian's inheritance. Mr. Smith publicly acknowledged his affair with Lucas Miller, so as the wronged party, you have every right to ask for a larger settlement.” Evelyn summarized the key points succinctly while Emily flipped through the pages in silence. Halfway through the drive, Emily finished reading the agreements and let out a long sigh, closing the file. Evelyn stole a cautious glance at her and asked, “Madam, are you sure about this?” “Yeah.” Evelyn hesitated, weighing her next words carefully before speaking. “Madam, you’ve put up with so much already. Mr. Smith finally seems to have secured his position. If you divorce now, won’t it…?” But she trailed off, and Emily picked up on the unspoken concern. After so long acting as Edward’s puppet while he grasped real power, it wouldn’t make sense to give up now—especially to walk away with nothing. Silence hung between them for a moment until Emily suddenly asked, “Evelyn, do you know why the ugly duckling became a swan?” Evelyn was puzzled, not quite catching the sudden shift in the conversation. Before she could respond, Emily continued, “It wasn’t because it worked hard but because it was a swan from the start.” “So, real things don’t turn fake, and fake things can’t become real. Whatever comes from one place must return to it. Don’t pull others down with you, and don’t end up hurting yourself.” Evelyn sat in stunned silence, unsure of what Emily was getting at. After a moment of looking out the window, Emily squinted against the softening rain and said, “Looks like the rain's letting up.”
Chapter 3
The first time Emily laid eyes on Edward Smith was on a rainy day, just like today. Only days after her parents’ unexpected death, she received a call. It was Lillian Jones, a former student of her mother, who had offered to adopt her. Lillian had taken care of her mother in the past and wanted to extend the same kindness to her now. Emily, caught in the grip of grief and a sense of abandonment, didn’t have the luxury of choice. Family members had distanced themselves, wary of being burdened. Now, someone was willing to take her in, and that felt like a miracle. So just hours after the funeral, she was driven to Smith Manor. Southwick, the nearest town, was over three hours away, but the Smiths wasted no time. By the afternoon, she arrived at Smith Manor, still dressed in her shabby school uniform, her threadbare backpack slung over her shoulder, and her scuffed canvas shoes muddied from the rain. She looked like a lost little rabbit who had stumbled into a strange, grand burrow. As she stepped inside, Lillian and her husband Charles were seated on the plush sofa. Charles had an enigmatic smile that revealed little, but Lillian sprang from her seat, beaming as if she’d just found a long-lost treasure. She approached Emily and gently took her hand. “You must be Emily! My, how you’ve grown! I saw you when you were just three—do you remember?” Emily stood frozen, unable to speak. She was acutely aware of her unkempt nails, the dirt still clinging to her fingers. The lavish living room, so much larger than her own, felt alien—a world apart. Noticing her discomfort, Lillian patted her hand and said, “Don’t be scared. You can think of this as your home now. I’m like your momma, okay?” Emily nodded, hoping her discomfort didn’t show. Just as Lillian was about to say more, a male voice wafted down from the staircase. It was clear, melodic—the kind of voice that made hearts flutter. “Oh, so this is her.” Emily looked up to see a boy leaning casually against the banister. Edward, about her age, observed her with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His soft beige sweater contrasted with the rain-soaked scene outside, and his round, gold-rimmed glasses held a certain charm. His tousled hair framed his face, catching the light just right. She thought about how unusual his outfit was for someone from her hometown—a place where light colors quickly lost their luster. Still, Emily was drawn to him, unable to look away. His smile was something between sweet and mocking, and as he appraised her, he let slip a dismissive scoff before commenting, “You’re filthy.” At that moment, Emily’s heart plummeted. Charles rose to his feet, anger distorting his features. “Edward, come here! Watch your mouth!” But Edward turned his back and glided away without a word. The mood shifted awkwardly, Lillian sheepishly trying to smooth things over. “Um, Emily, this is your brother, Edward. You’ll be going to school together from now on. He’s usually pretty nice—it’s just one of those days.” Emily nodded, choosing silence over a response. That was how she met Edward. He wore his privilege like a badge, arrogant and unpretentious. He looked down on her without any pretense, clearly unimpressed. He ridiculed her for enjoying street food, mocked her for reading romance novels, and sneered at her fascination with pop culture. In his eyes, the things that once brought her joy were trivial, beneath him. To fit into the Smith family, to curry favor with him and Lillian, Emily buried her hobbies. She was determined to be someone of substance—taking up the cello, learning French and Latin, always at the top of her class, and giving up the few joys she had left. She became disciplined and restrained, her inner self coiling tighter like a wound spring, never allowing herself any indulgence. But even then, Edward never seemed to warm up to her. They shared rides to school, studied together, and attended tutoring sessions, but his face remained stoic and indifferent. It struck her as strange that she clung to the notion that maybe, someday, he’d care for her even just a bit. Her world revolved around Edward and Lillian, seeking their approval, desperate to carve out a place for herself in their lives. Everything escalated when Charles Smith was involved in the incident that changed their lives forever. Edward was in his senior year, and Lillian made the call to send him overseas to escape the chaos. When Lillian offered Emily the choice to stay or go with Edward, she decided to remain, wanting to help Lillian navigate the turmoil. That night, after making her choice, Emily looked up to find Edward standing in her bedroom doorway, his expression a mix of disbelief and anger. “Didn’t you say I was important to you?” he shot at her. “Didn’t you say you liked me? So why aren’t you coming with me?” She didn’t answer; words escaped her, lost to the tempest of emotions within her. For the first time, Edward seemed truly distressed. “Emily,” he spat, “you don’t like me. You feel guilty, like you owe my mom something. If that’s the best you can give me,” he scoffed, fists clenched, “I don’t want it.” He slammed the door shut behind him. The next morning, he left without waking her, embarking on a journey that would ripple through the course of their lives—a decision that would forever change the landscape of their relationship.
Chapter 4
Emily Johnson had always been a supportive presence at Smith Manor, a steadfast companion to Lillian Jones throughout the stormy waters of family politics. Ever since she turned eighteen, Lillian had mentored her with an unwavering focus on becoming the perfect Mrs. Smith. At first, it had merely been about being “a woman of quality,” but soon it became a relentless pursuit of perfection expected of the future matriarch. She aced her way into Northhelm University, graduated with honors, then continued her journey at Guanghua Business School, and later enrolled in Briarwood Merchant Academy for her Master’s. It was a flawless ascent, one that inevitably led her back to Edward Smith, during whose return to the States they became engaged and eventually married. He had made no objection on their wedding day, and she had found herself sitting in her bridal gown, contemplating whether he had any lingering affection for her. But it didn’t take long for the veil of that hope to lift. Edward was kind enough but his kindness felt uninspired, more akin to the way he treated other women than anything special between them. The necklace he gifted her? A few days later, Emily spotted it adorning the neck of a rising star at Smith Minstrel's Guild—a sight that was soon followed by press revelations of their affair. Their first year as newlyweds was barely behind them when Lillian became ill. Emily nursed her, stifling her own heartache. She gathered her courage one day, clutching a photo of Edward with that other woman, and approached him. “What does it matter to Mrs. Smith?” Edward had replied, propping his chin up with an amused smirk. “My little rendezvous—are you really going to let that bother you?” She stood there, paralyzed, feeling the chill of his words seep into her bones. “Have you not considered how your actions reflect on me?” He laughed lightly, “Things like that—they're just for fun. You’ve got the crown of Mrs. Smith; I’m not going to let a few casual flings disrupt that. What is there to worry about?” Those words landed like a lead weight in her stomach. The truth was more humiliating than she could articulate, leaving her feeling exposed and raw. “Emily, you like money and status. You’ve got both, plus your conscience is clean enough,” he said, as if he were handing her a consolation prize. He lightly patted her shoulder, a gesture that felt more like a flirtation than solace, “So don’t sweat the small stuff.” Her lips trembled and she glanced up at him through a veil of tears, but he only raised a hand to wipe her cheeks with a tenderness that felt mocking. “Oh, why the waterworks? Can’t take a joke?” That did it. She shoved him away and raced to the bathroom, gagging. That was the beginning of their separation—though they were still married in name, their lives no longer intertwined. Days turned into weeks, weeks into years as she cared for Lillian, while Edward remained ensconced in his world of fleeting affairs and whispered scandals. For a while, she mourned the fragments of their marriage. But over time, she learned to brace herself, waiting for the inevitable moment Lillian would depart. When that time came, it was Emily holding Lillian's hand, watching her mother-in-law take her last breath. “Emily, it’s my fault,” Lillian wheezed. “At the end of the day, you have to take care of yourself.” “I only need Edward to be stable,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt. It was in that moment, with the solemnity of death tight around them, that Emily understood. Despite her careful façade, the cracks were visible to Lillian, and over three years of charades had been laid bare. After Lillian's passing, the Smith family turned against Edward, their hunger for blood insatiable. Fortunately, Edward proved a fortress against their greed and manipulation, skillfully navigating them until he unearthed evidence to imprison his scheming uncle. Only then did the chaos simmer down. The very next day, the Smith Consortium announced board changes, appointing Edward as CEO—his ascent to power had finally come to fruition. That was also the day Emily decided to unveil the divorce papers she had been meticulously preparing for three years. It was clear now: the swan he sought would never be her. She didn’t belong in the Smith world. As her vehicle pulled up to the towering Smith Consortium building, the rain began to let up. Benjamin Brown, her lawyer, opened the car door with a respectful nod. “Mrs. Smith, watch your step,” he said. Emily acknowledged him with a silent nod, clutching the documents tightly as she stepped out. Entering the Consortium was like walking into a maze. The staff hardly recognized her; their whispers followed her toward the executive elevator. “Is she new here?” one speculated. “She’s too young. Looks like she’s here for Edward,” another offered. Those words reached Evelyn Williams, who flared with indignation as she rushed into the elevator. “What do they think…” “It’s all Edward’s fault,” Emily cut in, leaving Evelyn momentarily speechless. “He’s the reason they think that way.” The elevator doors opened to the main floor, and as she stepped off, she found Edward’s assistant waiting for her. She was led to the conference room where Edward sat reviewing notes, weary, massaging his temples. “You have something important to discuss?" he asked, brow furrowed. She took a seat at the far end of the long table, facing him. Her demeanor was calm and poised; even her assistant served her tea without missing a beat. When she looked up at him, her gaze reflected nothing but serenity, eyes like tranquil waters touched by sunlight. “First off, congratulations,” Emily began, offering him a soft smile. “With your new title, you can finally breathe easy.” Leaning back, Edward scrutinized her. He adjusted his glasses with suspicion, “Let’s skip the pleasantries. What’s really on your mind?” She took a sip of tea and set the cup down. “Now for the second matter,” she said, tilting her chin defiantly. Benjamin stepped forward, placing two divorce agreements before Edward. Emily clasped her hands, maintaining an air of calm as she spoke. “I’d like to discuss how we should handle our divorce.”
Chapter 5
When Edward Smith heard the word "divorce," his expression shifted dramatically. The atmosphere in the room thickened, as if all present had just received shocking news. Evelyn Williams and Benjamin Brown wore looks of pure disbelief, their faces pale as ghosts. Emily Johnson lowered her gaze, taking a sip of tea. Edward remained silent, but after a long pause, he finally chuckled, a knowing smile creeping onto his face. “Oh, I see. You’re talking about Lucas Miller.” The tension in the room eased a notch at his words. He waved his hand dismissively, signaling for everyone else to leave. They took the hint, exchanging glances with Emily Johnson, who nodded slightly before they exited the room. Once they were alone, Edward settled back into his chair, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “I didn’t think you’d be so upset.” “I’m not.” “Then what’s with the theatrics? You brought all this to threaten me.” Edward tilted his chin, feigning a nonchalant attitude, but the underlying amusement in his expression suggested he viewed the ordeal as a mere game. Emily chose not to respond, allowing him to carry on with his act. With a casual glance in her direction, Edward shrugged. “Alright, I get it. I promise no more ‘scandalous headlines’ from the outside.” Emily remained silent. He opened his mouth, eager to express more, but he hesitated, feeling the air shift around them. There was nothing more to discuss. He reasoned internally. Their relationship was not one where she could dictate the terms of his life. All she really wanted was her title as Mrs. Smith—and he had given her that. Her previous day’s disturbance was nothing more than a minor issue of pride. Smiling warmly, he said, “I’ve been busy lately, and I haven’t been around much. Now that I have time, how about we take a trip together? Just tell me where you’d like to go, and I’ll make it happen.” Emily remained still, causing his patience to wane. Yet, he maintained his smile, adopting a light tone. “Still not happy? Fine. There’s an auction next week; I’ll take you with me…” “We’ve been living apart for nearly two years.” Emily’s voice cut through. Edward frowned, genuinely irritated. He had always been understanding, willing to play the doting husband, but there was only so far one could go. He didn’t appreciate being taken for granted, especially by his own wife. His brow furrowed as he gazed at her. Emily remained collected, her demeanor unwavering. “Two years ago, I rented a place outside, signed a lease—this will serve as proof of our separation. You don’t need to drag this out. If I file for divorce, we’ll have one, and no one will benefit. A mediated divorce now would hurt you less; we should really discuss this seriously.” At her words, Edward couldn’t help but laugh. His patience was officially worn thin. Leaning back in his chair, he unbuttoned his shirt collar, a cold smile forming on his lips. “Emily Johnson, do you genuinely think I’m afraid of divorcing you?” “I understand your concerns.” Emily responded quickly, “You’re able to control the Smith Consortium largely due to your shareholding advantages. But, once we divorce, during asset division, you’ll lose substantial control over the company. So, I’ve crafted a divorce agreement that’s crystal clear: all shares, including the 5% from your mother, will remain untouched.” As Edward listened, the tension in his demeanor began to dissipate. He recognized that Emily wasn’t merely acting on impulse. Calmly, she continued her analysis. “I have two agreements for you. The first—and simpler one—lets you walk away with everything I don’t lay claim to, except my pre-marital assets. All I ask is that you sign this divorce agreement today, and we can file for divorce this afternoon.” “And the second?” Edward’s smirk was tinged with mockery, but Emily held his gaze steady. He seemed genuinely upset, with the beauty of his features overshadowed by the sharpness of his facial angles. His deep-set, almond-shaped eyes glistened with annoyance, yet there was an alluring quality, reminiscent of a finely sculpted marble statue. With slight hesitation, Emily turned her gaze slightly before explaining, “The second agreement gives you time to think. If you reject my proposal, I’ll take the matter to court according to its terms. This would give me 60% of your wealth: cash, shares, property. And since you’re the one with fault here, the court will likely favor me. As for the 5% your mother left me, it belongs to me, untouched. I’ll retain primary control.” Edward’s expression turned icy as he absorbed her words, while his demeanor remained congenial, radiating a polished elegance that was hard to ignore. Yet, under that surface charm, his eyes chilled to a point where the woman across from him felt less like his wife and more like an adversary in the business arena. Despite the weight of his gaze, Emily continued calmly, “Truthfully, our two-year separation gives me nearly a 90% chance of winning if we go to court. Moreover, I wouldn’t hesitate to sell my 5% to Jonathan Smith. Should that happen, he would become the largest shareholder in the Smith Consortium, which isn’t great news for you, considering you’re just settling into your position at the helm."
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