Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Her pale skin swelled and reddened almost immediately from the force of the slap.
Ethan didn’t even glance her way.
His voice, sharp and full of fury, echoed across the crowd:
“Who told you to come here? Get out!”
“If it weren’t for you, Grace wouldn’t be gone!”
now you dare show your face? Leave! Get out of my sight and never let me see you again!”
Tears welled up in Madison’s eyes.
She mumbled something, her voice too soft to hear, but Ethan didn’t give her even a passing glance.
His bloodshot eyes remained fixed on the burning remains of the house, desperate for any sign of life amidst the wreckage.
I realized then how little I truly understood this man.
The same man who betrayed me, who abandoned me, was now losing his mind over me in front of everyone.
Was it real love, or just another performance?
I couldn’t tell anymore. But it didn’t matter.
Turning away from the screen, I walked into the nearby supermarket.
Thankfully, all those years of asking the housekeeper about household supplies paid off–I wasn’t entirely clueless in a foreign country.
By the time I carried the heavy bags back to my apartment, my shoulders ached as if they’d been pulled apart.
Despite the physical exhaustion, I felt an unexpected sense of lightness in my heart.
I started unpacking, organizing the space like the solo–living influencers I’d seen online.
It wasn’t perfect–I wasted a lot of ingredients before managing to cook something halfway decent.
When I finally sat down to eat my own cooking, tears pricked my eyes.
For the first time, I realized the truth: life goes on, even without Ethan.
Leaving someone who doesn’t love me won’t destroy my world–it will only make it better.
No longer orbiting his life, I finally had the time and space to love myself.
Back home, the fire at the mansion dominated the news, trending on every major platform.
But here, in my little apartment, I spent my days watching dramas, planning to take a month off before diving back into work.
It was a good plan–until everything unraveled sooner than I expected.
Three days later, the company that orchestrated my staged death sent me a message:
“We sincerely apologize, Ms. Sullivan. You won’t need to pay the remaining balance, and we’ll refund your deposit as well.”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Wood managed to track down our operation. This is the first time such a failure has occurred in our history. We take full responsibility for the inconvenience.”
I closed the message and let out a long sigh.
Their plan was airtight–it wasn’t their fault.
11:46
Photos, Lies, and Fire
72%
No one else’s family member had ever fought this hard to uncover the truth.
Ethan’s stubborn belief that I wasn’t dead was the outlier here.
–It only took me ten minutes to process the bad news.
I sent back a reply:
“It’s fine. It wasn’t your fault. Your plan was flawless. My case was just… unusual.”
That was true enough, but I still couldn’t wrap my head around Ethan’s motives.
He allowed Madison to humiliate me, to trample on everything we’d built over eight years.
knew she was the reason I made this decision, yet he still chased after me like a man possessed.
What did he hope to achieve by finding me?
Did he think he could rewind time?
Undo his betrayals?
I let out a bitter laugh, brushing off the endless questions in my head.
With nothing left to do, I decided to search for news about the fire.
Instead of more details about the blaze, I found headlines about Madison trending online.
Apparently, the slap at the wedding had been the breaking point for her.
She had written a scathing tell–all post, exposing everything–how they met, how they ended up in bed together, and how much Ethan spent on her during their affair.
For every gift he gave me, there was another for her.
But Madison, like most people, was never satisfied.
Once she had him, she wanted more.
She set her sights on my title–Mrs. Wood–and began plotting.
She contacted me, sent me the photos, taunted me, all to push me out of the picture.
On the day of the wedding, she planned to announce her pregnancy, using it to force Ethan to leave me.
But the fire ruined her plans.
When Ethan received the forwarded messages I’d sent him, he dragged Madison to the hospital and forced her to terminate the pregnancy.
Now, the baby–the one thing she could hold over him–was gone.
With nothing left, she went nuclear, posting everything online.
Her words were raw, seething with hatred: if she couldn’t have him, she’d destroy him.
In just a few minutes, her post amassed tens of thousands of likes.
But before I could read it a second time, her account was banned.
Ethan’s doing, no doubt.
Hearing about the abortion left me with mixed feelings–none of them good.
I wrestled with the emotions for hours, but all that remained was a deep, weary sigh.
That night, I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
Photos, Lies, and Fire
Chapter 8
At some point past midnight, there was a knock at the door.
Ethan
He had found me faster than I expected.
The moment he saw me, his eyes turned red, his voice cracking with emotion.
“Grace… you’ve lost weight.”
I didn’t bother looking at him. Instead, I sat on the couch, my voice cold.
“Have I? And you’ve aged.”
probably hadn’t slept since the wedding.
But that wasn’t my concern anymore.
“I’m sorry… I…”
“If you came here to apologize, don’t bother. We’re done, Ethan.”
“You know better than anyone–I never wanted anything from you but your heart. Now that you’re successful, it doesn’t change a thing for me.”
“I loved you once, but I can walk away just as easily.”
He swayed on his feet, his bloodshot eyes filled with a mix of pain and desperation.
Before he could say another word, I cut him off with finality.
“Ethan, let’s end this with some dignity. Don’t make me hate you more than I already do.”
He stood there for a long time, so long I started to feel drowsy.
Eventually, he left, placing a bank card on the table as he walked out.
I knew it was compensation.
I accepted it without hesitation.
Eight years of my life were priceless.
This payment was the final tie between us.
Now, I just wanted us to never cross paths again.
