Chapter 1

1.

Five years of marriage.

Every time my husband, Declan, went out to keep his "first love" company, he would transfer a property into my name.

When I had accumulated 99 properties, Declan suddenly realized I had changed.

I no longer cried or made a scene.

I didn't beg him to stay.

I simply chose the most expensive mansion on the list, took the property transfer agreement, and waited quietly for him to sign.

Declan signed his name with a flourish.

For the first time, a flicker of guilt crossed his face.

"When I get back, I'll take you to see the fireworks," he promised.

I smiled obediently, tucked the agreement away, and whispered, "Okay."

I didn't tell him that what he just signed wasn't just a property transfer.

Hidden between those pages was our divorce agreement.

...

In his office, the news of Victoria Vance returning to the country was playing on the TV.

Declan’s gaze was glued to the blonde woman on the screen.

Even as he took the pen to sign the house over to me, he never looked away from her.

The Malibu beach house was a top-tier asset that money couldn't even buy in California.

But to Declan Sterling, it meant nothing.

Just like me.

The news segment ended, and Declan seemed to be in a great mood.

He spun the fountain pen in his fingers, handing the papers back to me with a chuckle.

"I think I've transferred over sixty houses to you now, right? Lily, you're becoming quite the little tycoon."

He didn't hide the excitement in his voice.

It wasn't because I was rich. It was because Victoria was back.

I stood before him, not even bothering to fix my hair that had been messed up by the wind.

"That villa has a view of the ocean. I like it," I said calmly.

I didn't tell him this was actually the 100th property.

Years ago, when he was chasing me, I rejected Declan Sterling 99 times.

He was so persistent back then. After his 100th confession, we had a grand wedding in the Hamptons.

But his love had an expiration date.

It expired the day Victoria returned to the States for the first time.

It was our first wedding anniversary.

I sat at the candlelight dinner Declan had arranged, listening to jazz, waiting happily for him.

All I got was a property deed delivered by a courier and a text message.

Sorry, Lily. I missed our anniversary. Can you forgive me? I bought you a condo in Beverly Hills.

I ignored the strange perfume on his collar when he finally came home.

Voice hoarse, I forgave him. That was the first time.

For the sake of fairness, I decided that I would forgive him 99 times during our marriage.

Then came the second time, the third, the fourth...

For five years, he abandoned me countless times to be with his high school sweetheart.

Eventually, he started having his lawyer mail me the deeds before he even left to see her.

From the first house to the ninety-ninth.

Every single time, I forgave him.

And now, we had reached one hundred.

Declan Sterling, after this, I don't need to forgive you anymore.

I smiled, a sense of relief washing over me as I looked at him.

Declan paused, sensing something was off. He looked down, avoiding my eyes.

For a split second, I saw hesitation in his blue eyes.

"Wait for me to get back this weekend," he said, unsure. "We'll go see the fireworks."

In the past, any sign of softness from him would have given me hope.

I would have cried, begged, and then fallen into despair.

Because Declan would always pry my fingers off his sleeve, one by one, and leave me with a single word.

Crazy.

Luckily, I had already been crazy ninety-nine times.

Now, it was over.

No more self-deception.

Because in that stack of legal documents he just handed back to me, I had hidden a notarized divorce agreement.

Declan, I’m giving myself thirty days to say goodbye.

In thirty days, when the divorce papers take effect, we will be strangers.