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PERSON_PROFILE

Chapter 1
As the upcoming tour approached, the dance troupe suddenly revoked my position as the lead dancer.
Anxious to get an explanation in person, I lost my footing due to my distracted state and tumbled down the stairs.
While enduring the sharp pain and preparing to call for emergency services, a notification popped up on my phone screen:
“Redwood Dance Troupe: Welcome our new lead dancer, Averil Wells, and our generous sponsor, Julian Ford."
The accompanying photo featured two smiling faces—my husband of seven years, whom I had secretly married, and his pampered mistress.
Julian had his arm wrapped around Averil's waist as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Meanwhile, Averil clung to Julian's neck, her face radiating shyness and delight.
I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and posted a photo of our marriage certificate in the comments section:
"Is your troupe’s new production called the Union of Illegitimates?"
Before long, Julian called me.
"Victoria Dean, what stupid thing are you doing now? How many times do I have to tell you that Averil and I are just putting on a show."
I sniffled. "Julian, what gives you the right to take away my lead dancer role?"
There was a brief silence on the other end. "Are you part of Redwood?"
After a pause, he added nonchalantly, "Averil wanted the lead role in this tour as her birthday gift. I didn’t realize that role was yours. Go online and clarify immediately. Tell everyone that the marriage certificate was doctored."
I found it laughable.
He didn’t even know where I worked but remembered Averil’s birthday gift request.
"And then? Why would I fake a marriage certificate?"
Julian replied calmly, "You can say you’re just a fan of mine."
"Julian Ford, what do you take me for?"
He sighed softly on the other end. "Victoria, we’ve been married for seven years. We’re practically an old married couple. Averil is young; there’s no need to compete with her."
He must have forgotten that I married him before finishing college. Though we’d been married for seven years, I was only a year older than Averil.
"Julian, I fell down the stairs, and my leg hurts."
"Victoria, it’s just an apology and a clarification. It’s not that hard."
Julian sounded genuinely disappointed.
"When did you turn into such a shameless liar?"
Drip. Drip.
Tears, mingled with blood from my nose, splattered onto the back of my hand. Pressing a hand over my mouth, I hung up the call.
Julian called again, but I immediately put his number on silent.
I called for an ambulance myself. When the paramedics arrived, they asked if I had any family to accompany me.
"No," I replied numbly, tilting my head back. "They're all gone."
On the way to the hospital, Julian sent me a message, "Victoria, Averil was so upset by you that she fainted. You need to come to the hospital immediately to apologize in person. Bring an appropriate gift; there will be reporters present. Don’t worry about your reputation. This mess is your fault to begin with."
My hands trembled as I typed a two-word reply, “Keep dreaming."
Then I turned off my phone, shutting myself away in solitude.
While waiting in the hospital hallway for my X-ray results, I unexpectedly heard a familiar voice:
"Mr. Watson, I’m Victoria’s boyfriend. If there’s anything she needs moving forward, feel free to contact me directly."
I looked up, locking eyes with Julian as he walked in.
His steps faltered for a moment, his movements stiff, but he quickly acted as if he didn’t recognize me. Continuing his conversation with Benjamin Watson, he passed me without a second glance.
The faint citrus scent clinging to him twisted my stomach in knots.
I almost bolted, but Julian turned back.
He seemed to have rushed over, and when he noticed I was still there, a flicker of exasperation crossed his face.
"Victoria, have you thought it through?"
"I told you to keep dreaming." I pushed past him, limping away in the opposite direction.
I felt Julian's gaze linger on my injured leg for a moment, growing colder by the second.
"Victoria, are you really stooping to this kind of ploy just to avoid apologizing?"
I didn’t want to respond. All I wanted was to get away from this hallway, thick with the scent of Averil’s perfume.
A large hand grabbed my shoulder, yanking me back.
I stumbled, barely able to steady myself as a sharp pain shot through my leg.
"Ah!"
I couldn’t hold back a cry of pain.
Julian’s brow furrowed in irritation, his tone laced with displeasure. "You’ve really let me down."
With practiced ease, he reached into my pocket and took my phone.
"Give it back!"
I stretched my arm to snatch it, but Julian, clearly annoyed, gave me a firm shove.
"Hank, hold her."
The bodyguard, tall and imposing, pinned me effortlessly. I couldn’t break free.
"Julian Ford!!"

Chapter 2
A mask was tossed over. "Cover her mouth. Stop her from screaming."
My wrist was locked in a crushing grip, my legs throbbed with pain, and my mouth was tightly covered. All I could do was let my tears flow helplessly.
I could only watch as Julian took my phone, logged into my account, and posted an apology and clarification in my name.
"I’ve changed your password and replaced your verification number with mine. For now, just stay out of trouble."
When Julian finally looked up and saw my state, he seemed startled. He pushed Hank, away, glaring at him in reproach.
"Did you really have to use that much force?"
He rubbed my wrist gently. "Does it hurt? If you’d listened earlier, this wouldn’t have happened."
I snatched my phone back and reluctantly opened my social media, only to find a post uploaded from my account that read:
"I apologize for my earlier comment on Redwood Dance Troupe’s post. I am not married to Mr. Julian Ford. As a fan, I acted on selfish impulses. I also want to apologize to Ms. Averil Wells and Mr. Julian Ford for any trouble I’ve caused."
My hands trembled as I tried to open the comments section.
"Victoria, have you no shame?"
“Victoria, my God, your desperation to become the other woman practically oozes through the screen."
"Victoria, people like you are a disgrace to dancers everywhere. Get out of this industry!"
...
Julian took the phone from my hand again. "Don’t look."
I moved my lips, my voice low and unsteady. "Julian, is this what you wanted?"
He turned his face away. "People online forget quickly. I’ll have someone redirect the narrative later. Just stay off your phone for a few days."
I shook my head slowly, my vision unfocused. "Julian, you’ve destroyed me."
I couldn’t make out his expression, but his voice, tinged with irritation, rang in my ears.
"I already told you I’ll handle it. Why are you making a scene? If you hadn’t caused all this trouble yourself, would things be this messy? Victoria, you have to understand that even if I deliberately put you in the spotlight, it’s your own fault you ended up like this!"
A sharp ringing filled my ears, drowning out everything else as a bitter laugh escaped my lips.
"Julian, let’s get a divorce."
He seemed to chuckle, his voice indulgent yet exasperated. "You’re upset right now. If venting helps, go ahead."
He was convinced I wouldn’t divorce him, using his supposed tolerance to display his magnanimity.
Surprisingly, Julian’s laughter brought me an eerie sense of calm.
Just then, the doctor called my name from the other end of the hallway. "Victoria Dean, your test results are ready."
Julian froze for a moment and followed after me. "What test results?"
"Julian,” a soft voice called out from behind him. “Why have you been gone so long?"
He immediately turned back, heading toward Averil, who stood at the doorway of her hospital room.
"Averil, why did you come out? You should be resting. Get back to bed," he said, his tone filled with concern.
Dragging my numb, pain-ridden leg, I walked in the opposite direction, completely away from him.
It felt as though I were stepping on razor blades.
Every step sliced through my flesh.
Every step tore through my soul.
The doctor handed me the results and warned me that I needed to rest for the next month. Without it, dancing again would be out of the question.
I hailed a cab and returned home to face the cold emptiness of my apartment alone.
Because of our secret marriage, Julian and I maintained separate residences. He’d deliberately chosen the unit right above mine.
On my first night there, he pinned me against the wall and kissed me.
"Now I can sneak into your bed every night.”
Julian seemed to take particular pleasure in this illicit game, as though the secrecy added a thrill.
I once thought it was just a peculiar quirk beneath his otherwise serious exterior.
But I was wrong.
The thrill wasn’t about secrecy—it was about betrayal.
He had grown bored of me and set his sights on the newer, more enticing Averil.

Chapter 3
At nine in the evening, Julian arrived with a bag of fruit.
"Victoria, I got you some cherries. Want to have some now?"
I tossed my phone at him. The screen displayed Averil’s latest post:
"I said I wanted sweet-and-sour cherries, and he ended up buying regular ones instead. Hilarious."
"Did she not want them, so you decided to throw them my way?"
Julian frowned. "Don’t be like this..."
He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around my waist in a familiar gesture. "Is this because I haven’t touched you for so long? Are you upset about that?"
I shoved him away with all my strength, then made a point of gagging a few times right in front of him.
Dark clouds gathered on his face. "Victoria Dean, that’s enough. Stop acting like this."
"Acting like what?" My heart ached, tears streaming down my face. "Do you have any idea how many hateful calls I’ve received? Do you know I’ve been blacklisted by every major dance troupe? My career is ruined! Julian Ford, what did I do wrong to deserve this?"
I’ve always been the quiet, mild-tempered type—in other words, easy to push around.
Julian used to playfully tug on my earlobe, his voice full of affection.
"Victoria, you’re so easy to bully. What would you do without me?"
I never once imagined he’d leave me behind.
Years ago, when my parents took their own lives under a cloud of scandal, the entire world turned its back on me.
Julian was the one who pulled me out of the mud.
He stood up to his family for me, and I still remember how he knelt in the rain for hours, defying their disapproval.
He took me far away from the pain and gave us a fresh start in a new city.
Even when I was at my lowest, broken and worthless, Julian didn’t give up on me
The hardest days were behind us, yet now I faced his betrayal.
“Let’s divorce,” I said, closing my eyes. “At least let me keep some dignity.”

"Victoria..." Julian pinched the bridge of his nose, looking weary. "This isn’t the first time you got insulted, so why are you acting so delicate now?"
My eyes flew open in disbelief, and I stared at him, stunned.
“What did you just say?”
Julian pressed his lips into a thin line, his expression dark. “When your parents took their lives, the whole country was cursing you—”
“Get out!” I screamed, grabbing a cushion from the sofa and hurling it at him. “Get out!”
Julian looked utterly taken aback. He had never seen me so hysterical. After a moment of stunned silence, he stormed out, taking the bag of cherries with him.
“Don’t need my leftovers, huh? Fine. Let’s see how long you can hold out,” he snapped as he left.
Not even ten minutes later, Averil posted another update.
"First day in the new place—this décor is so tacky. What kind of tasteless guy thought this up?"
The photograph showed his upstairs apartment. The so-called "tacky décor" was all my work.
Julian even replied to her post, "Yeah, it’s pretty bad. Let’s tear it down and redo it."
I rubbed my sore eyes, my tears long dried.
A house could be redecorated. A partner could be replaced.
To him, I was nothing more than an old, discarded toy.
When yet another harassing phone call came through, I finally pulled out my SIM card and replaced it with the number I’d used during my overseas performances.
Back then, a prestigious international dance troupe had extended me an offer, but I had turned down the opportunity because I couldn’t bear to part with Julian.
Now, with my heart pounding, I nervously dialed the number that had contacted me back then. “Hello, is this Mr. Jason Yates?”
There was silence on the other end. If not for the faint sound of breathing, I would have thought the call had been disconnected.
Why wasn’t he speaking? Had he seen the trending news?
Clutching the phone tightly, my palms grew damp with sweat. “Mr. Yates, please listen to me. I didn’t do any of those things. I’ve tried to post a clarification, but my social media account has been taken over. Every time I create a new one, my post gets deleted within seconds. I…”
“Wait for me.”
A low, muffled male voice interrupted me. It sounded unexpectedly familiar but was completely different from the blond-haired Jason I remembered.
I froze. “You’re not Jason?”
“Wait for me,” the voice repeated before abruptly hanging up.
I stood there, bewildered, trying to make sense of what just happened. As I was still in a daze, a text message came through, "Taking off. Turning off my phone."
A few seconds later, another message arrived, "Wait for me to return. I’ll take you away."

Chapter 4
Although his words were vague, they made his stance clear.
I exhaled in relief.
Over the next few days, I started packing my belongings and handling the necessary paperwork.
I didn’t have much—just one suitcase in total.
I left behind everything Julian had ever bought for me.
It wasn’t because I was virtuous, nor was it because I still had feelings for him.
He had cheated, leaving me utterly broken.
When my world crumbled, my parents died in disgrace, and I became a pariah hounded by those who blamed me for the children’s deaths, it was Julian who saved me.
I didn’t know how he convinced his father, but after that long night kneeling in the rain, he was cast out of the Ford family. At the same time, the relentless attacks against me online suddenly disappeared.
He gave me a new name, a new identity, and a new life.
He truly caught me as I was falling, staying by my side through the darkest of days.
For that alone, I couldn’t bring myself to hate him.
All I wanted now was for us to part on good terms.
After three days of silence, Julian showed up again.
"Have you come to your senses after taking some time to cool off?"
I nodded, calm and collected. "I have."
He misunderstood me, a smug arc lifting his brow.
"Good. That’s more like it, Victoria. Remember your place. If you behave, I’ll take care of you. But if you overstep your boundaries, I’ll make sure you’re left with nothing."
He delivered his threats, but when I stayed silent, his gaze wavered, a hint of confusion flickering in his eyes.
"Are you done talking?" I placed the divorce papers on the table. "If so, just sign them."
Julian’s gaze darkened as he stared at the document. His cold eyes turned even frostier. "Victoria, you’ve known about my relationship with Averil for a long time. Why couldn’t you, like before, just pretend nothing happened? Why not turn a blind eye and continue enjoying the comfort of being Mrs. Ford?
"Everything she has, you have too. And what she doesn’t have, I can give you. Victoria, you shouldn’t be so ungrateful."
I stared at Julian in shock, unable to believe those words had come out of his mouth.
I still remembered back in high school, when Julian found out his father had cheated. His mother discovered the affair, and the resulting chaos rocked the entire family.
Julian’s father shouted at his mother, "Men in my position are expected to have mistresses. I’m not divorcing you, so stop making a scene."
At fifteen, Julian had grabbed a baseball bat and shattered a porcelain vase next to his father. Amid the scattered shards, he said coldly, "A man without responsibility doesn’t deserve to be called a man."
At that moment, I thought Julian was the coolest person in the world.
But now, fifteen years later, that once-principled boy had grown into the exact kind of man he had once despised.
The thirty-year-old Julian had become a mirror image of the father he loathed.
The realization made me sick to my stomach.
"Not a chance," I said, pushing the divorce papers closer to him again. "After the divorce, you can keep as many women as you like."
Julian stared at me for a long moment before finally picking up the papers between two fingers, his expression unreadable.
"You want a divorce? Fine. But don’t you think it’s time we settle the debt you owe me for all these years?"
I nodded and took out a bank card. "There’s one million in this account. It’s more than enough to cover the cost of my living expenses over the years."
Julian’s brows furrowed as he looked at the card I had clearly prepared in advance. "One million? Do you think that’s enough?"
"It’s enough." I met his gaze firmly. "I’ve kept track of every household expense. The records are in the study if you want to verify them. The luxury items and jewelry you bought me are all accounted for as well. The ones I used have already been depreciated and factored into the total.
"Julian Ford, I owe you nothing."
He was silent for so long that I thought he might refuse. But then, to my surprise, he let out a low chuckle.
"I was planning to take you to a charity gala tomorrow night. But since you don’t need me, let’s forget about it."
His gaze lingered on my face for a few seconds, as though he were searching for a hint of regret.
But he was destined to be disappointed.
My expression remained calm, devoid of any emotional fluctuation. "We’re in a secret marriage, Julian. The role of Mrs. Ford can be replaced anytime."
His lips pressed into a thin line before he tossed an invitation onto the table.
"Your name is on it. Come with me tomorrow night, and I’ll agree to the divorce."

Chapter 5
I had no idea what Julian was trying to accomplish.
But I had no other choice but to agree.
When I changed into the gown Julian sent over and arrived at the venue, chauffeured by his driver, I realized I had underestimated his cruelty.
This wasn’t a private gala at all.
The red carpet was lined with media reporters and cameras, while fans holding flowers and banners screamed the names of their idols.
I barely had time to process it before someone noticed me.
"Look! Isn’t that the fake marriage fraudster?"
Ever since Julian used my account to post that forced apology, I’d been labeled as the "fake marriage fraudster."
I had seen countless insults online, but no amount of text could compare to the humiliation of hearing the taunts whispered directly in my ear.
"Victoria Dean, how do you even have the nerve to show your face here?"
"Look at her dress. Averil’s wearing white, and so is she. Typical attention-seeking move."
"Don’t even try to compare her to our idol, Averil. She’s not worthy!"
"Exactly. Averil’s dress is haute couture, straight off the runway, and hers? Looks like a two-year-old knockoff."
The vicious jeers flooded my ears. I tried to turn and escape, but a "staff member" grabbed my arm.
Looking up, I recognized him instantly—it was Hank, Julian’s bodyguard.
He smiled at me, his eyes glinting with malice.
"Miss Dean, Mr. Ford said you must enter the venue."
Hank was a distant relative of Averil. Last time at the hospital, he had purposely gripped me so hard that bruises bloomed all over my arm.
Julian had seen it but only gave a cursory reprimand. Now, he had unleashed him on me again.
The Julian who once cherished me like I was his whole world was long gone.
Bitterness welled up inside me, sharp and sour, but there was no escaping. Hank dragged me forward, half-pulling, half-shoving.
"Look at Victoria’s awkward walk! Doesn’t she look like a lame old mule?"
"She’s probably trying to crash the red carpet and got shut down by the bodyguard!"
"Victoria, you’re a trashy parasite!"
Before I could react, a sharp insult was followed by a sudden blow—a drink bottle hurtled toward me out of nowhere, hitting me squarely.
I tried to dodge, but Hank deliberately blocked my way, even shoving me toward the incoming bottle.
“Ah!” Purple grape juice splattered all over me, soaking my white gown and leaving it stained and blotchy.
"Ha! Doesn’t she look like she’s on her period?"
"Fake marriage fraudster, don’t you have any shame? Get out of here!"
"If I were you, I’d just jump off a building and be done with it. The thicker the skin, the cheaper the person!"
Amid the harsh laughter, I struggled to wrench free from Hank’s grip. "Let me go! I need to change!"
Hank gave me a mocking glance. "Sorry, but even if you’re barely breathing, you’re going into the venue tonight. Mr. Ford said if you want the divorce, you’ll get through tonight’s event first. Otherwise, you’ll face the consequences."
I froze in place.
Of course. How could I forget? Julian was now the rising star of the Harbor City elite.
And me? A woman whose very identity couldn’t even see the light of day—what leverage did I have to fight him?
I let out a bitter laugh. "Fine. Let go of me. I’ll walk myself."
Hank had no intention of making things easy. Not only did he refuse to let go, but he also quickened his pace, deliberately dragging me along.
Stumbling and disheveled, I was hauled through the venue, drawing more jeers and mocking stares with every step.
By the time we reached Julian, Hank had transformed back into his obedient and unassuming self.
Julian’s cold gaze swept over me, taking in my ruined dress. "What happened?"
I glared at him, seething with anger. "Why bother pretending? Isn’t this exactly what you wanted to see?"
His brow furrowed, just as a slender, pale arm reached out from behind, curling around his own.
"Victoria, I’m so sorry! It was one of my fans who spilled juice on you."
Averil, dressed in a flawless white couture gown, clung tightly to Julian’s side.
"She probably got upset seeing you wear a dress so similar to mine. Surely you wouldn’t mind, right, Victoria?"
In the past, her deliberate provocations would have ignited my anger.
But now, all I wanted was to leave.
"Julian Ford, you wanted me here. I showed up. You set me up for humiliation, and I endured it. You’ve made your point. Can I go now?"
Though framed as a question, I had no intention of waiting for his response.
I turned away, desperate to escape.
"Don’t leave."
Someone stepped into my path, blocking my way.

Chapter 6
"Well, if it isn’t Victoria Dean, the great dancer herself. Since you’re here, why not give us a performance before you leave?"
I didn’t recognize the man in front of me, but it was obvious that he was just one of Julian’s pawns sent to humiliate me.
"Move," I said coldly, my expression hardened.
"Oh, look at that attitude." The man sized me up as if I were a product on display. "Still think you’re the rising star of the dance world? You do know, don’t you? You’ve already been blacklisted from the industry."
His words knocked the breath out of me, leaving me feeling like I’d plunged into icy water.
"Julian," I said, turning to him. "Is he telling the truth?"
Julian swirled the wine in his glass, his gaze distant and cold. "This is your punishment for what you did wrong."
I couldn’t hold back anymore and pressed him. "What did I do wrong? What could possibly justify you ruining my career and cutting off all my opportunities? Julian Ford, answer me!"
His lips tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "You know very well what you did."
Averil laughed softly. "Victoria, I’m performing tonight. Since your reputation hasn’t been great lately, why not dance too? There are plenty of influential people here. Maybe someone will take an interest in you."
I stared at Averil, my gaze unflinching until her smile faded.
"Julian," she said, shrinking behind him. "Victoria looks so scary."
Julian patted her hand, his eyes fixed on me. "Victoria, didn’t you want to cozy up to the right people? There are several entertainment executives here tonight. This is your chance. Why not make the most of it?"
I took in a sharp breath, unable to recognize the man standing before me.
I thought back to the year Julian first started his business. He was desperate for seed money, and without it, he would have missed a golden opportunity.
I had secretly taken a job dancing at a nightclub to make quick cash, but when Julian found out, he’d rather sell his blood than let me expose myself like that.
"You know how jealous I am," he had said back then. "I can’t stand the thought of any man looking at you, even for a second."
He had loved me so fiercely back then. We spent nights wrapped in each other’s arms in that tiny, run-down apartment, finding joy in the simplest things—even sharing a single apple felt like a feast.
And now? He seemed indifferent, almost eager, to push me toward other men.
My voice came out dry and hoarse, barely recognizable. "Alright, as you wish."
I pushed past the person blocking my way and headed toward a director I had once worked with.
"Look, Victoria’s still limping. Could she really be injured?"
"Ignore her. She’s faking it."
Julian’s voice, filled with arrogance and disdain, blended seamlessly with the mocking laughter around me, creating a suffocating web of humiliation.
I forced myself to reach the director, but before I could even greet him, he quickly stepped aside, avoiding me like the plague.
I froze, knowing there was no point in asking.
But I couldn’t accept it.
I had always been known as one of the most hardworking dancers in the industry. My low-key and professional demeanor had earned me a solid reputation.
So many people had once begged me for collaborations, making grand promises. I refused to believe that all my accomplishments could be completely erased by Julian’s words.
I dragged my injured leg forward, lowering myself to approach others I recognized in the crowd.
Yet every one of them avoided me as if I were poison. Some walked away the moment they spotted me, while others sided with Averil, mocking me openly.
I swallowed my pride and endured every insult, but by the time I had exhausted every option in the vast banquet hall, I finally realized just how pathetic I had become.
I was nothing more than a clown under the spotlight, put on display for everyone’s amusement.
They couldn’t resist stepping on me, mocking me.
And leading the charge was the man I had once believed I could entrust with my life.
Julian looked at me, his expression grim. "Victoria, haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough?"
Averil chimed in, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Julian, Victoria is my senior after all. Why not just let it go?"
He didn’t respond, but the tight furrow of his brows relaxed slightly.
"Let it go? No way!" someone shouted deliberately. "A dancer daring to put on airs—if word gets out, won’t it tarnish Mr. Ford’s reputation?"
"Exactly. Even if Mr. Ford doesn’t stoop to her level, she still needs to be taught a lesson. She has to learn what lines she shouldn’t cross."
"Victoria, drink this glass of liquor, and we’ll consider giving you another chance," one of Julian’s lackeys said, shoving a full glass of vodka into my hand. "What do you all think?"
The crowd erupted in enthusiastic agreement, their jeers echoing around me.
I turned to Julian and asked, "Is this what you want?"

Chapter 7
There were three steps between Julian and me. He didn’t move forward, and I had no desire to close the gap.
I knew he was waiting for me to back down.
In every argument we’d ever had, I was always the first to surrender—not because he was right, but because I couldn’t forget the salvation he’d given me during my darkest times.
In front of him, I always felt a step lower, and I had been willing to tolerate his misplaced anger because of it.
Even when he flirted with Averil time and time again, even when he bought her a house to keep her hidden away, I pretended not to see.
But today, I couldn’t pretend anymore.
I asked again, “Forcing me to drink as an apology—is that what you want?”
Julian’s anger flashed across his face when I didn’t apologize as expected. "Yes, it is."
I shook my head with a bitter smile, staring at the vodka swirling in the glass.
He knew I was allergic to wine.
Yet, to defend Averil, he was willing to push me this far.
The boy who once couldn’t bear to see me get hurt had finally disappeared with time.
Crack.
It felt like I heard something shatter.
It was the ten years I had shared with Julian.
A phrase suddenly came to mind, “There’s no use crying over spilled milk.”
“Fine.”
I raised the glass and drank it all in one gulp, ignoring the hesitation flickering across Julian’s face.
The sharp burn of wine scorched my throat, making me cough until my face flushed red.
“Great drinking! Let’s pour her another glass!”
Someone tried to refill my glass, but Julian barked, “That’s enough,” shoving them aside.
Just as he took a step toward me, Averil latched onto his arm, stopping him in his tracks.
"Julian," Averil said with a feigned tone of concern. "It seems like Victoria has shown enough sincerity. How about this? When I perform later, let her join me on stage."
She smiled innocently at me, pretending to consider my feelings.
"Of course, it might mean Victoria will have to take a supporting role as my backup dancer. What do you think?"
"Not happening."
The wine still burned in my stomach, and I could feel the heat rising rapidly under my skin.
"Averil, that stage is going to be live-streamed, isn’t it? Do you really want to use it to step on me? Or is it that you don’t have any confidence in your own abilities and can only rely on cheap tricks like this to feel relevant?"
After swallowing my pride for so long, I finally threw all caution aside, releasing my pent-up anger in one blow.
Averil clung to Julian’s arm, swaying it back and forth. "Julian, explain this to her. Victoria must be misunderstanding me."
Julian’s face darkened, and his voice carried nothing but disappointment.
"Victoria, if you still want to dance, you’ll get up on that stage, whether you want to or not. With your position, you should feel lucky to be dancing alongside Averil."
His words were a final ultimatum, shattering the last shred of affection I had left for him.
"Julian Ford, what am I to you? A toy? A source of amusement? Or just a prop to make you and Averil look good together? This game of pleasing you—I’m done playing."
I pulled off my wedding ring and hurled it back at him, watching as his face turned an ugly shade of blue.
Then, in front of the stunned crowd, I took the divorce papers out of my handbag and scattered them at Julian’s feet.
"Julian Ford, since you’re so eager to distance yourself from me, fine. As you wish. Sign these papers, and we’re done. From now on, we’re strangers. I wish you and Averil a lifetime together, and don’t ever show your faces in front of me again!"

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