Chapter 1

Thanksgiving night, my wife, Nadia Mercer, hadn't come home by midnight.

Meanwhile, her agency's male model, Hayden Cole, posted a rare update on Instagram.

“Exceeded all work targets! The gorgeous boss treated me to a luxury cruise for two.”

In the photo, he showed off his bare eight-pack abs, marked with distinct red scratch marks. A sexy woman in a bikini stood in the background.

Several obvious hickeys were visible on her pale neck.

Someone commented: “Such an attractive couple! Just curious, how many rounds did you go last night?”

Hayden replied with a smirk emoji: “Seven times in one night. Just so you know.”

I tapped the like button on his post.

The very next second, Nadia called me.

“It's just for company publicity! Are you throwing a tantrum just because you don't look as good or have a body like his?”

After mocking me, she turned around to comfort Hayden.

“Ignore him, Hayden. He's just petty and jealous.”

Listening to Hayden's smug, triumphant laughter, I calmly hung up.

After eight years of loving Nadia, I was finally ready to let go.

1.

Nadia only came home the next day. I was browsing online for accessories to go with a new suit.

Ever since the last gala where Hayden and I wore matching suits, she publicly mocked me, saying I looked like a cheap insurance salesman.

For two years, I never attended an event with her or bought another suit.

Nadia thought I embarrassed her and hated bringing me anywhere.

When she saw me about to check out, she snatched the tablet from my hands.

“You don't have the face or the body anymore. Stop trying to dress like everyone else.”

I didn't argue. I just watched her quietly.

When Nadia came out of the bedroom, she tossed a gift bag at me with an annoyed scoff. “Hayden sent this to you.”

“The kid was worried you'd be mad, so he picked out an apology gift for you.”

I looked inside and saw a vintage, glaringly bright green cap.

I sneered inwardly. How fitting for a cuckolded husband.

I said calmly, “He has great taste.”

Nadia smiled with satisfaction and threw another insult at me. “Glad you know. Look at your age. Not only do you try to act young, but you're also petty as hell.”

“Come to his runway show tonight. Apologize to him in person, and this whole thing is over.”

Seeing that I stayed silent, she grew irritated and splashed the glass of hot water she was holding directly at me.

“You took his gift, and now you're giving me attitude?”

The hot water scalded the freshly healed skin on my neck, turning it bright red.

Those burn scars were from a fire years ago when I saved Nadia's life.

I clutched my neck and instinctively grabbed my stomach. The burning ache made me gasp in pain.

Nadia realized what she had done and stepped closer in a slight panic to check my neck.

“Are you okay? I just lost my temper for a second...”

“The new scar cream just arrived. I left it in the living room. Let me grab it for you.”

She crouched by the cabinet and rummaged through it for a while. “I swear I put it right here...”

Suddenly, she froze. A flicker of guilt crossed her face.

“Gavin, Hayden got a scratch on his leg the other day, so I gave it to him.”

“You know he's a model. A scar on his leg would ruin his career...”

Her voice trailed off, realizing how terrible that sounded, and she jerked her head up to look at me.

I just stared at her calmly, without a trace of anger.

In the past, I would have furiously demanded why my things were always given to him.

Now, I couldn't care less. He could have it all.

I replied quietly, “It's fine. There's an old tube in the bedroom. That works too.”

Nadia gave an awkward smile and said okay.

Just then, her phone rang.

Hearing that exclusive ringtone, Nadia picked up instantly. “Hayden, what happened?”

Hayden's panicked voice came through the speaker. “Nadia, please save me!”

“Ms. King had her bodyguards block my exit! She's forcing me to go up to her hotel room for a private show...”

“Fuck that bitch! How dare she touch my man?”

Nadia kicked the cabinet with a loud thud to vent her fury and comforted him, “Hayden, don't be scared.”

“Send me your location right now. I'm on my way.”

She pushed me aside and said anxiously, “Gavin, stay home by yourself. I need to handle this.”

After hanging up, she frowned at me impatiently, telling me to get out of her way.

“Nadia,” I called out as I stood up.

She turned back, her tone sharp. “Gavin, can you stop being so petty? Do you have any idea how much danger Hayden is in? He's the agency's top―”

“Your hair is caught in my zipper,” I cut her off.

She paused, untangled her hair, and faked some concern for my burn.

“Remember to put some ointment on later. Text me if it still hurts.”

“Sure. Drive safe.”

With that, I turned around and walked back into the bedroom.

I had grown completely used to Nadia abandoning me for Hayden over and over again.

Sitting at my desk, I stared quietly at the scar revision medical report in front of me.

My Instagram account dinged with a direct message from Hayden's burner account.

I sighed. The kid really had zero patience.

Opening the DM, I saw a video Hayden had posted ten minutes ago.

The title read: “True love is when she's willing to fight the whole company for me...”

Hayden claimed that the vice president had cornered him at a dinner, trying to force him into bed.

She even threatened to kick him off tonight's runway show if he didn't comply.

Nadia had arrived just in time, smashed a bottle over the VP's head, and fired her on the spot.

At the end of the video, Nadia was leading a tipsy Hayden out of the VIP lounge.

A top comment read: “Why still call her boss? Just take her to City Hall and marry her already!”

Hayden replied: “Haha, that's the plan! When it happens, drinks are on me!”

The message also included pictures of Hayden signing international runway contracts.

There was also a voice memo from Nadia: “Hayden, whatever resources you want, I'll give them to you.”

Hearing those words, a sharp ache still squeezed my chest.

Back when I worked at Nadia's agency, she always claimed she despised nepo babies who begged for resources.

Every runway slot and center stage spotlight I ever got was earned through my own blood, sweat, and tears.

I remembered a month ago when a drunken Nadia called me to pick her up from an exclusive lounge.

When I arrived at the private room, she wasn't there. Only Valerie King, the newly hired VP, was inside.

Valerie greeted me warmly, saying Nadia would be right back.

While waiting, Valerie's sleazy gaze wandered shamelessly over my body.

She kept sliding closer under the guise of casual conversation.

Suddenly, she grabbed me and shoved a hotel keycard into my chest.

Her alcohol-soaked breath hit my face as she whispered crudely into my ear, “Nadia told me you're way wilder in bed than on the runway. I'd love to test that out myself.”

She reached her hands under my shirt. I fought back furiously and shoved her away.

Infuriated by my resistance, Valerie ordered her bodyguards to pin me down and force-feed me several glasses of hard liquor.

I choked and coughed violently.

Just as I managed to break free and tried to run toward the door, the door swung open.

Nadia walked in, surrounded by an entourage, and our eyes met.

“Nadia!”

Catching Valerie off guard, I sprinted toward Nadia like a survivor finding a lifeline.

Hayden, standing right behind Nadia, spoke first. “Ms. King, what's going on here?”

Valerie smoothly explained, “Oh, him? He wanted back on the runway so badly that he tried to seduce me into giving him a contract.”

Cruel laughter erupted all around me, giving me no chance to explain.

Nadia looked at me with absolute disgust and ordered her staff, “Throw him out. Get the hell out of here.”

Not long after I returned home in utter despair, Nadia came back reeking of booze.

Without a word, she had her assistants drag me into the bathroom.

She turned on the shower, blasting freezing cold water over my head.

“Gavin, are you that cheap? Are you so desperate to crawl into someone else's bed?”

Facing her fury, I told her the exact truth of what had happened.

Instead of feeling any sympathy, Nadia snapped at me.

“Enough, Gavin! The facts were right in front of everyone! What are you still lying for?”

She dragged me toward the mirror and ripped my shirt open.

In the glass, my eyes were bloodshot, and the hideous burn scars across my torso triggered an overwhelming wave of despair.

“Look at your body! What kind of daydream are you living in? Do you really think you're still a world-class supermodel?”

“You don't deserve to be on a runway anymore! Who the hell would even be interested in you?”

With that, she coldly told me to stop having delusions about returning to the runway.

The next morning, after sobering up, Nadia unexpectedly gifted me a watch encrusted with blue diamonds.

I looked at it and realized it was the exact watch Hayden had been wearing the day before.

Before leaving that night, I had overheard Hayden complaining that the design was too outdated and that he hated it.

So Nadia gave it to me. In her eyes, I was only worthy of his hand-me-downs.

Back then, the presence of love―or lack thereof―was glaringly obvious, yet I kept lying to myself.

Now, seeing the video Hayden sent, I finally understood that Nadia truly didn't love me at all.

Swallowing the bitterness in my throat, I made up my mind.

I sent a text to my sister, who was a lawyer: “Gia, I'm divorcing Nadia.”