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PERSON_PROFILE

It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well.

For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her.

But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday.

Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway.

The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter.

Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party.

Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then.

He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point.

"It kinda hurts… Can you come over?"

Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive.

Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify.

She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners.

Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses.

"Done staring?"

Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes.

Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket.

He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it.

Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once.

She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her.

Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham.

Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry.

Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you."

Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation."

Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed.

However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue.

Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal.

To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him.

Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place.

…

That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn.

She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him.

As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff.

"Dexter—"

Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her.

"What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage.

She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her.

"Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left.

A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line.

Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time.

When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker.

But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts.

That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing?

Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year."

The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house.

"You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public."

Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford."

Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?"

Exactly. Why should he believe her?

The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter.

Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money?

Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest.

Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it."

"Perform what?"

"What do you think?"

Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes.

Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not.

Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him?

Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood.

He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line.

Chapter 2
Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry."

Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday.

Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract.

The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it.

It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other.

The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years.

Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night.

As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena.

That explained everything!

No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena.

The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever.

She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky.

But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions.

And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all.

Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today.

She was going to have to divorce him.

…

Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night.

The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day.

Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist.

"Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?"

Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed.

"None."

"I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment."

It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife.

"We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else."

In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here."

So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down."

The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica.

Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?"

She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man.

In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter.

"I did. Where's Dexter?"

"Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly.

Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him.

"Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?"

With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position.

Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?"

Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica.

But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore.

Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else."

Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting."

The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended.

Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa.

His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter.

As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her."

When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion.

Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened.

Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom.

He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom.

This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him.

Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it.

Angela didn't make a sound.

Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes.

He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner.

She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened.

So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise.

"Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly.

Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze.

Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him.

He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him.

However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more.

Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears.

She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce."

Chapter 3
Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard.

Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him.

The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years.
But now, she had uttered it so casually.

When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again.

Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition?

"Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?"

The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine.

She should have known better.

She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?"

She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude!

"What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny?

"While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?"

Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!"

He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?"

"Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered.

She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading.

As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back.

Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?"

Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter.

As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment.

A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart.

In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air.

Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart.

Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little.

Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?"

The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently.

This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused.

Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically.

Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist.

Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do.

Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for.

"No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man.

There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead.

Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe.

"Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy."

Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes.

Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely.

Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him.

Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?"

Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans.

Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?"

"No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground.

At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating.

"You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections.

Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous.

A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse.

The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela.

Chapter 4
Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?"

The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?"

Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her."

"Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded.

The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler.

Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes."

Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler."

After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?"

With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry.

"Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned.

Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed.

Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well.

When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family.

Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her.

She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know.

Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night.

Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure.

She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge.

The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front."

Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in.

Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off.

The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence.

He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary.

Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between.

Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent.

The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside.

Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on."

She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious.

"What?" she asked curtly.

"Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily.

Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know."

As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance.

Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder.

He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away.

In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids.

She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her.

Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore.

Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead.

After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather."

She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate.

Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her.

Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them.

She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard.

Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them.

"You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie."

Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her.

"Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern.

She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta.

As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?"

The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?"

"Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either.

"As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool."

Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta.

"Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said.

Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble.

He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter.

Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it.

Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?"

Chapter 5
Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust.

She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this."

But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number.

"Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold."

"Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat.

Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers.

However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name.

When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!"

But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her.

Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day.

Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core.

Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!"

Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?"

The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment.

Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed.

Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately.

Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step.

First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what.

The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner."

Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions?

"I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home.

But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor.

A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures.

"Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily.

The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?"

Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!"

The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!"

The men around him joined in, egging him on.

"Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!"

"Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her."

"Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!"

The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation.

He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!"

Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain.

Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!"

He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face.

Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him.

"Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head.

Angela quickly dodged.

At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!"

Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down.

"Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!"

…

Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter.

When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome.

His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford."

The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home."

Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore."

After some time, he chuckled.

"Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!".

"Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble."

The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake.

Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night.

…

Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job.

With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred.

This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially.

Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?"

Chapter 6
Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought.

However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you."

Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her.

As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything.

It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in!

Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left.

At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it.

She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another.

Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside.

Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord.

"Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him.

Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo.

Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him.

For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?"

His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself.

"Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break.

On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—"

"You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence.

Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop.

Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds.

"Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving.

After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh.

…

Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes.

Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him.

The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more.

Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended.

The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye.

"What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man.

The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening.

"Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving."

He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing.

Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden."

He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself.

Irritated, he loosened his tie.

Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?"

Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day.

Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?"

Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden."

Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?"

Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly.

"Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over.

No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits.

Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word.

"Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine.

The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another.

She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay.

Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore.

Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time.

Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone.

When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night.

The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness.

Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed.

Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased.

When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest.

She asked, "What are you doing here?"

Of course, he was there to watch her misery.

What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home."

"I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch.

The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed.

"So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement.

He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her.

"It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic.

She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more.

Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up.

His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.

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