Chapter 1

1.

Christmas Eve.

The grandfather clock in the hall chimed for midnight.

The elaborate dishes on the long dining table were cold.

Sophia Costello sat on the velvet sofa, counting the seconds. Ten seconds later, the heavy oak doors of the Costello Manor were pushed open by a man, right on schedule.

"Why aren't you in bed?"

Julian Costello frowned, his eyes fixed on the figure on the sofa, clad only in a silk nightgown.

"I've told you before. No nightgowns in the main hall."

Hearing his voice, as hard and unyielding as ever, Sophia slowly rose and walked toward him, skillfully taking his cashmere coat.

"I forgot today. It won't happen again."

Her voice was soft, but to Julian, it was just another empty promise.

In the seven years of their marriage, she was always forgetting things. She had been forgetting for seven whole years.

If it hadn't been for the marriage alliance to secure peace between their families, he would never have married a woman like her.

Sophia could see the disdain in his eyes. She held the coat, about to hang it up, but the faint scent of Chanel No. 5 clinging to the fabric stabbed her heart with a sharp pain.

Julian hated perfume, which was why she hadn’t worn a single fragrance in the seven years she’d been married to him.

"What is it?" Julian asked, growing impatient as he watched her dazed expression.

"It's nothing. You should get some rest."

Sophia turned nonchalantly and hung the coat, her eyes falling on her burgundy suitcase standing by the entrance. This, she thought, would be the last New Year's she ever spent with Julian.

Julian despised this cold, distant version of Sophia. For seven years, she had always been this way.

She was the perfect Mrs. Costello in the eyes of the world, but she was not the wife he wanted.

As he reached the top of the second-floor staircase, Julian glanced at the untouched dinner on the table.

"Sophia, didn't I tell you I wasn't coming home for dinner tonight?"

Downstairs, Sophia's mind went blank when she heard him.

She had forgotten again.

She rushed to clear the table. "I'm sorry…"

But the only response she received was the deafening slam of Julian's door.

He was home, yet in this vast, lonely manor, Sophia was alone again.

She had endured days like this for seven years.

For a moment, Sophia's slender body swayed. She silently cleaned everything up and returned to her room.

In the spotless room, a handwritten document sat starkly on the nightstand.

Sophia walked over, picked it up, and read it over and over, making sure she hadn't missed anything before putting it down again.

Julian didn't love her. They rarely shared moments of intimacy.

They had slept in separate rooms since the day they were married.

Lying in bed, Sophia thought about her past seven years, remembering what her best friend, Chloe, had said: "You're not in a marriage, you're a living widow."

The next day, Christmas Day.

Six-ten in the morning.

Sophia prepared breakfast as usual. At six-thirty sharp, her husband appeared in the dining room.

He was always so meticulous, so precise.

Sophia recalled a time she had a severe flu and couldn't get up to cook for him. He didn't come home for an entire month.

Julian seemed to take her service for granted, never once considering her feelings.

"Get ready. We're going to my parents' estate at eight," Julian commanded, eating his breakfast with the refined air of a man in control.

Sophia’s heart ached when she heard him say "my parents." His parents, not hers.

She didn't answer. Instead, she placed the document she had prepared so long ago gently in front of him.

"Let's find some time to file for divorce."

The dining room fell silent.

Julian stared at the bold words written in elegant script.

Divorce Agreement.

He was stunned for a moment before looking up at Sophia, his deep eyes as cold as a frozen lake.

"What kind of trick are you playing now?"

Sophia's heart trembled under his icy gaze. He seemed like a complete stranger.

In seven years, she had never looked at him so closely.

"Mr. Costello, I'm not playing tricks, and I'm not joking. This divorce is a decision I've made after long and careful consideration."

With that, she ignored Julian's shocked expression and walked out of the dining room.

Seven years was a long time. She was only human. She was tired.

Ten minutes later.

Julian sat in the living room and watched as his wife, who had never worn makeup before, walked past him. She wore a delicate, light makeup, her waterfall of black hair elegantly pinned up with a pearl clip, revealing the pale skin of her neck.

She was dressed in a burgundy cashmere coat and high heels, walking past him as if he didn't exist.

"Sophia, why?"

Just as she reached the door, Julian couldn't hold back the question any longer.

He could feel it. She was really leaving.

Sophia paused. She opened the door, looking out at the endless winter landscape, but didn't answer his question.

She just picked up her suitcase and said two final words. "Take care."

She left with such ease that it took Julian a long time to recover. His gaze fell back to the agreement she had drafted.

When he saw the words "Alimony," a cold sneer formed on his lips.

"Sophia, I really overestimated you."

…

This was the first New Year since their marriage that Sophia didn't accompany Julian to his family's estate.

Driving there, Julian looked down at his clothes and felt something was off.

Sophia had left so abruptly that she hadn't even laid out his clothes for the day. He had to throw something together himself.

When he finally arrived, his family was surprised not to see Sophia.

This had never happened before.

In the living room, Julian calmly sipped his wine.

"We're getting a divorce."

If she wanted to play this game, he wouldn't hesitate to play along and show no mercy.

Julian's mother was trimming flowers. Hearing her son, she raised an eyebrow. "It's about time. Her family has been beneath us for years. Find a new one who's more obedient and has a stronger background."

His older sister, Catherine, chimed in. "Exactly. I'm so tired of a boring woman like Sophia. What can she do besides cook and clean? Her clothes are so dated, and she doesn't know how to dress…"

The mother and daughter went on and on, listing Sophia's faults.

Listening to them, Julian felt a wave of disorientation. He remembered how his mother and sister would find fault with Sophia every time she visited.

He stood up, annoyed, and walked outside.

His father had followed him out. "Have you thought this through?" he asked in a low voice.

The sunlight was bright. Julian’s reply was automatic.

"She was never good enough for me."

His father sighed and patted his shoulder. "I hope you don't regret this."

Regret?

A cold smirk played on Julian's lips. Impossible.

Family dinners had always been organized by Sophia. Without her, everything was rushed and chaotic.

That evening, Julian returned to the manor, exhausted.

"Sophia, is the bath ready?"

He pushed open his bedroom door and asked out of habit.

But the room was pitch black. Silence enveloped him.