Chapter 1

I found a dried-up used condom under the bed while cleaning. Lyra brushed it off casually, claiming it was left behind from the last time we were intimate.

She even turned around and blamed me for being a terrible cleaner.

When I asked for a divorce, she looked at me in utter disbelief. "You used it yourself! What kind of crazy fit are you throwing now? Stop being so paranoid all the time!"

1

I am a clean freak. Every single corner of our home is cleaned by me on a strict schedule.

The last time Lyra and I were intimate was two weeks ago. In that span of time, I had vacuumed and scrubbed under the bed three times.

So when Lyra threw that crumpled, dry condom right in my face and accused me of doing a sloppy job, I could only let out a bitter laugh.

In our seven years of marriage, Lyra went from a fresh college graduate to a CEO everyone bowed down to.

Meanwhile, I had become the stay-at-home servant she ordered around, a useless husband who supposedly lived off her success.

What nobody knew was that every penny of her startup capital had come from my pockets.

Back when she started the business, we were both drowning in work. Even though we worked at the same company, we barely had time to see each other.

She told me she wanted to come home to hot meals and see me waiting for her every night. That was the only reason I gave up my career and stayed behind the scenes.

Now, she had forgotten all of it. In her eyes, I had degenerated into a pathetic leech who only knew how to beg for handouts!

I carried the divorce papers into her study. Lyra stared at me in disgust. "Zayn, are you ever going to quit?"

"Are you in such a rush to get divorced because that condom belongs to you and some random whore?"

I frowned, clenching my fists. "Is that really who you think I am?"

Lyra went silent for a moment before rubbing her temples against the leather chair. "My company is finally gaining real traction. Can you stop ganging up with your parents and using divorce to pressure me?"

By pressuring her, she meant having children.

Yet in all seven years of our marriage, I had never once forced her into anything she did not want to do.

If Lyra cared about me even a little, she would have noticed how much I had sacrificed for her.

I shook my head quietly. Lyra jumped to her feet. "Then what the hell is this about? A divorce over a stupid, dried-up wrapper?"

"I never brought anyone home! I told you, it's leftover garbage you missed because you didn't clean properly!"

I laughed bitterly. Even now, she was shifting all the blame onto my cleaning skills.

"Just sign the papers. Let's end these seven years on a clean note."

"Zayn!" Lyra snatched the divorce agreement from my hands and slapped it against my chest. "There's a limit to throwing tantrums! Do you have any idea how exhausting it is for me to close deals and provide for this family every single day?"

"The clothes on your back and the food on your plate come from my money! You sit at home doing nothing all day, and I still have to come home and baby your feelings. I haven't even complained about you, so what the hell are you unhappy about?"

Lyra probably didn't realize that her eyes were filled with nothing but pure contempt.

I knew right then that she looked down on me completely.

"You're right. Without you, I would probably be out on the streets. Divorcing me will lighten your burden."

I took a slow breath, gathering whatever strength I had left. "Let's just end it, Lyra. It's better for both of us."

That night ended in a mess. Lyra tore the papers to shreds and swore she would never sign them.

I didn't want to drag out an ugly fight, so I decided to let her cool off.

Just as I stepped out of the study, Lyra's phone rang.

Right before the door clicked shut, I heard a man's voice clearly say from the receiver: "It's good that you're divorcing him. That leech is finally getting out of your life, Boss."