Chapter 3

At eight o'clock the next morning, Chloe's call came right on schedule.

"Ms. Hart, to reclaim usage rights for the restoration studio, you must attend today's separation meeting."

The restoration studio my mother left behind was the last thing I had.

Two years ago, when my mother was gravely ill, she suddenly called me to her bedside and handed me a contract.

"Serena, sign this. After this, no one will dare touch you."

I looked at Ethan Wheeler's name on the contract, completely confused.

What was my mother's relationship with the Wheeler family?

What did she trade to secure all this?

She didn't say anything.

I only knew the basic terms:

Receive the Wheeler family's protection network as Ethan Wheeler's wife, then divorce after two years.

After the divorce, Ethan Wheeler would pay compensation sufficient for my independent living.

During the contract period, neither party could engage in intimate relations.

Two years.

When the marriage term ended, we would part ways.

I asked her why.

She just looked at me, deep exhaustion in her eyes.

"Don't ask anymore. Promise me."

When I signed, I thought I was clearheaded.

Only later did I learn that the person who falls in love first is the biggest fool in any contract.

At ten in the morning, I pushed open the door to the top-floor conference room at Wheeler headquarters.

Three auditors sat at the long table.

Ethan sat at the head.

To his right was Paige Sinclair, Wheeler's Chief Risk Officer.

The woman he'd held an umbrella for.

Paige wore a cold white suit and spoke with disdain.

"Ms. Hart, please sit."

"This is just separation protocol. No need to be nervous."

I sat down.

In front of me lay a thick document.

"Serena Hart Relationship Termination Risk Assessment and Separation Report."

The auditor opened the file.

"Mr. Wheeler, this month's monitoring shows Ms. Hart's emotional dependency index spiked three times."

"Does she currently meet the standard for complete separation?"

My heart grew colder bit by bit.

Their discussion treated me like a project awaiting transfer and disposal.

I turned to look at Ethan.

He wore a dark gray suit, his expression calm, fingers resting on the table.

Paige flipped open the report, her voice merciless.

"Let me add something."

"Ms. Hart, many women mistake protective mechanisms for love."

"Wheeler is helping you complete this separation to restore your independence and freedom."

My stomach cramped painfully.

I instinctively pressed my lower abdomen.

Less than two weeks since the miscarriage, the pain hadn't fully faded.

Ethan's gaze fell on my trembling hand.

He frowned and interrupted Paige.

"Get her water."

Soon, a cup of water was placed in front of me.

He always caught me just before I fell, then pushed me away again.

The auditor continued:

"Regarding Ms. Hart's accidental miscarriage last month leading to emotional breakdown, will this become a potential PR risk for the company?"

I froze completely.

Ethan's expression darkened.

I thought he would lose his temper.

But he only tapped the table.

"Skip that item."

"Mr. Wheeler, the risk assessment must be comprehensive..."

"I said skip it."

His voice was cold and hard.

I picked up the cup of water and forced myself to take a sip.

When the meeting ended, I signed the final "Complete Separation Confirmation."

People gradually left.

Only Ethan and I remained.

I put away my pen and stood up.

"Ethan."

His hand paused while adjusting his cufflinks.

I looked at him.

"In these two years, was there ever a moment when I wasn't just part of the process to you?"

Ethan was silent for a long time.

Finally, he looked up, his tone restrained.

"Don't dwell on meaningless things."

In that moment, even my breathing stopped.

So every day I'd spent hurting was meaningless to him.