Chapter 3

When she arrived, Simone greeted her with barely concealed coldness. However, since Elena wasn't demanding a payout, she didn't push the issue.

"I'll be direct," she said, taking a seat. "You know your family's situation. Your father has no head for business. He needs to accept reality instead of being so stubborn. The Blackwoods bailed you out once. It won't happen again. Not to mention your stepmother, who never stops meddling. This marriage brings us nothing. If anything, it's the exact opposite. It's a liability."

She paused, then added in a much sharper tone, "Your background is far too modest. You have only your own origins to blame."

Sitting across from her, Elena remained entirely impassive.

"You're right. I'm not worthy of being Mr. Blackwood's wife."

In truth, aside from the marriage certificate, she had never shared any real connection with Ethan. They were nothing more than two strangers bound by a simple agreement.

Putting an end to this arrangement would honestly be a relief.

Faced with such a placid reaction, Simone felt like she was swinging at thin air. She couldn't tell if Elena was putting on an act or if she truly couldn't care less.

The crunch of tires sounded outside.

The servant stationed by the entrance hurried inside.

"Mrs. Blackwood, Mr. Blackwood is here!"

Simone's face instantly lit up. She stood up in a rush to go greet him.

Elena, too, turned her gaze toward the door.

She had braced herself for this moment, yet now that he was actually here, an unexpected knot of tension tightened in her chest.

The car door swung open.

Simone started forward to welcome him, but as the figure emerged, her smile faltered. It wasn't Ethan. Instead, his assistant, Grant, stepped out of the vehicle.

"Mr. Blackwood was held up by urgent business. He won't be able to make it tonight. He asked me to deliver this."

Simone had made that call with a simple hope: that he would come and share dinner with them. She hadn't bothered mentioning that Elena would also be present. After all, he had abandoned his new wife and moved abroad three years ago. Under those circumstances, it was obvious he would have refused the invitation had he known.

She waved a servant over to take the bouquet Grant had brought. A flicker of disappointment crossed her face, though she quickly tried to mask it.

"I know how busy he is. It's fine... just remind him to take care of himself."

Grant gave a polite nod of acknowledgment, then returned to the car without lingering.

When Simone returned to the living room and saw Elena, she gave a dismissive wave of her hand, eager to close the subject.

"You can go. I'll let you know when he has a free moment."

"Alright."

Elena nodded, not showing the slightest hint of annoyance. She had spotted Grant, and through the window, she'd caught a brief glimpse of Ethan's silhouette. That alone was enough to tell her he had no intention of stepping out.

His absence changed nothing, anyway. The divorce papers were already drawn up.

She left the estate and climbed into her car. Idling at a red light, she mindlessly checked her work group chat. It was their lunch break, and messages were flooding the screen.

"I heard Mr. Fan is coming back to get married. Didn't he just buy a place and start renovations?"

"The boss went to high school with Ethan, right? Do you think he could help us land the interior design project?"

"If we snag the design for his newlywed home, we'll be making a massive leap! His fortune alone puts him in the top tier of the ultra-rich. International investor, influential family... just getting to work with him is a privilege."

Outside of a very tight-knit circle, almost no one knew Ethan was already married. Even the media had never caught wind of it.

Elena paid no mind to the gossip. She was about to close the app when a message from her boss, Barrett, popped up.

"Come to The Moonlight. Mr. Alderton is interested in the villas you designed. He wants to meet you."

Her detour into interior design hadn't been planned at all. Originally, she had intended to pursue fine arts. But during her freshman year, she had helped design a classmate's villa on a whim. The finished project caught the eye of a wealthy buyer, who snapped it up for well over the asking price. Overnight, her name had started making the rounds.

Later on, Barrett—an old classmate—had offered her a gig at his studio as a part-time designer.

Why it was only part-time... well, that was another story.

Reading the text, she immediately rerouted her GPS.

The Moonlight was an exclusive playground for the ultra-rich. Anyone who walked through its doors had nothing left to prove financially. Pulling up to the entrance, she received another text from Barrett.

"I can't come out to grab you. The client asked a friend to escort you in. Just wait outside."

The club was strictly invitation-only, and Elena didn't have one. So, she had no choice but to wait.

At the exact same time, Ethan's phone buzzed with a call from Bryson.

"Ethan, I've got someone waiting at the entrance. Can you bring her in when you get here? It'll be a good opportunity for you two to meet."

Bryson was currently flipping through a stack of design sketches. He was convinced Ethan would love them, especially with construction on his Greenfield Gardens property about to break ground. Finding anything that actually caught Ethan's eye was no small feat.

"Trust me, you're going to like this."

But before Ethan could reply, the heavy bass of club music swelled on Bryson's end, drowning out whatever he said next.

Bryson was one of the most prominent heirs in their circle. If he was offering up a "gift," Ethan couldn't exactly brush it off.

Stepping out of his car, Ethan spotted a woman's silhouette lingering near the club's entrance. She stood slightly off to the side, yet it was impossible not to notice her.

As he drew closer, his suspicions were confirmed.

It was indeed her.

Just a few hours ago, they had been sharing the exact same bed.

Elena, meanwhile, was just about to call Barrett back when she saw him striding in her direction.

Even outside The Moonlight, where the city's elite constantly rubbed shoulders, Ethan effortlessly stood out. His posture, his sheer presence—everything about him commanded absolute authority. He wore a flawlessly tailored black suit, his expression unreadable, his demeanor cool and fiercely controlled.

He briefly recalled how she had slipped out of the estate that morning without a backward glance. Now, he assumed Bryson had orchestrated her being here all along.

"Are you the one Bryson asked me to bring inside?"

Elena found it odd that he was actually initiating a conversation with her. But at the mention of Bryson's name, she quickly connected the dots to Barrett's text.

So, the "friend" her boss had mentioned was none other than Ethan. And he was the one supposed to escort her in... or perhaps, he was even the client himself.

The sheer irony of the situation wasn't lost on her. She wasn't even officially divorced yet, and here she was, about to be pitched to design her husband's new marital home.

The universe truly had a sick sense of humor.

But she never mixed business with her personal life. If a lucrative opportunity presented itself, she wasn't about to walk away.

"That would be me. Good evening, Mr. Blackwood."

Ethan's gaze hardened. A distinct chill flashed in his eyes as he stared her down, his voice dropping to a flat, neutral tone.

"Drop the act."

She didn't bother replying, simply falling into step behind him. Ethan produced a sleek black card, swiped it at the scanner, and the heavy doors glided open.

The grand lobby gleamed under the ambient lighting. Their silhouettes reflected off the polished marble floors as the staff lined up by the entrance bowed in deep respect.

A few steps inside, Ethan abruptly stopped and turned to face her. Elena slowed to a halt, offering a faint, barely-there smile.

"How much did Bryson pay you?"

The question caught her completely off guard. She had no idea what kind of relationship Bryson and Ethan actually had. In truth, she knew next to nothing about the Blackwood family—and she had never cared to find out.