CHAPTER 10
The taxi glides to a stop in front of the mansion. The exterior lights bathe the entrance in a deceptive warmth, as if this house were still a refuge and not the stage of the worst lie of my life. I remain seated for a moment, hands resting on my lap, feeling the subtle tremble in my fingers. It's not fear. It's not sadness. It's a residue of who I used to be—the woman who trusted without question, the wife who believed in the strength of her marriage. That woman no longer exists. The one returning tonight is someone else. Someone who has seen too much, felt too much, and can no longer afford the luxury of naivety.
I pay the driver and step out with deliberate control. The night air is cool, but it does nothing to calm the strange heat rising beneath my skin blend of restrained rage and silent resolve. The Bai Yifei returning tonight is not the one who left. She is a woman betrayed, wounded, but not paralyzed. She is a woman who has decided to reclaim her life, her future, her destiny.
I lift my gaze and, almost unconsciously, it drifts to the house next door. The lights are on. From the street, through the large windows, I can see a silhouette moving inside. I shouldn't care. I shouldn't look. But I do. A stab of bitterness cuts through my chest. Is he there now? Is he enjoying the life he's given her while I return to a home that no longer feels like mine?
The echo of her laughter from the livestream still rings in my mind. Paris. A city I would have loved to visit with him. But instead, he took her. And I stayed behind, waiting, trusting, believing in a lie that has now fully collapsed.
I swallow hard and look away. This isn't the moment to dwell on that. It's not the time to let anger, pain, or despair take over. I have a plan. I have a goal. And I won't let anyone, or anything stop me.
I climb the steps to the front door and slide the key into the lock. The sound of the latch turning feels louder than usual. Or maybe it's just that everything inside me is sharper now—more alert. Every detail, every sound, every motion seems amplified, as if my body were on high alert, bracing for what's next.
As I open the door, the familiar scent of home rushes to greet me—warm, comforting. But there's something else. A smell I didn't expect. Freshly cooked food.
I blink and step inside, slipping off my shoes at the entryway. The lights are on, casting a welcoming glow, as if nothing here is broken. As if everything is exactly as it should be.
And then I see him.
Hu Ge is in the kitchen, serving dinner. Shirt sleeves rolled up, a relaxed expression on his face. When he hears the door, he turns and smiles.
"You're right on time, my love."
His voice is warm, casual, as if he carries no weight, no guilt. As if everything were perfectly normal. As if he hadn't shattered my heart into a thousand pieces.
He walks toward me and, before I can react, pulls me into an embrace. It's not forced. It's not robotic. It's the hug of a loving husband—of a man who, if I didn't know the truth, could almost convince me he adores me. My body doesn't pull away, but it doesn't return the gesture either. I let him hold me, let him breathe me in, feel my skin against him.
And then I sense it.
His cologne. Fresh. Too fresh. His skin smells of soap. His hair still carries traces of moisture. He showered before I got home. The pressure of his arms around my back tightens my chest—not with comfort, not with affection, but with the weight of a well-rehearsed lie.
"You look tired," he murmurs into my hair.
"It's been a long day."
The words leave my mouth softly, emotionless. I don't want him to notice anything. Not yet. I don't want him to suspect.
He pulls back slowly and gazes at me tenderly.
"Come, I made your favorite."
His enthusiasm feels genuine. Or at least, it looks like it. He leads me to the table and serves dinner with care, as if every gesture is part of some invisible repair. I sit across from him, like any other night, like any other evening from the past seven years. But it's not the same. It never will be.
The clink of cutlery against porcelain fills the room, accompanied by the quiet hum of casual conversation. Hu Ge speaks naturally, with that calm voice that used to be my safe haven—but now sounds like an empty melody. He tells me about his trip, the meetings that ran long, the contracts he signed, the endless business dinners. Every word flows so smoothly it would almost be believable.
Almost.
Because while he recites the details of the deals he supposedly closed, I watch the subtleties. Ge has always been meticulous. Even at home, after a long workday, he never lets his appearance falter. But this time… there's something too perfect about him. He's wearing a shirt he rarely chooses to stay in. He shows no trace of fatigue, despite claiming to be exhausted. He avoids looking me straight in the eyes as he talks, his gaze veering to the right—a clear sign he's fabricating. His body language confirms it: he touches his face, blinks faster, shifts in his seat again and again.
Still, I keep my face composed. I smile at the right moments, nod subtly as he continues his monologue about how exhausting the trip was. I don't interrupt him. I don't contradict him. I let him stay in character.
When he finishes his plate, he leans back in his chair with a satisfied expression and gives me a tender look, as if he were admiring the image of the perfect wife.
"I missed you."
His voice lowers slightly, searching for intimacy. The weight of his words should move me, should stir something inside. But they don't. It's been far too long since his words and his actions stopped matching.
He takes my hand across the table and squeezes it gently.
"I know these days have been long without me, but it'll be over soon."
I nod without saying anything, allowing my skin to grow used to his touch again—though it no longer brings warmth. I study him with the patience of someone decoding a puzzle, calculating every move before making the final play.
He leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead with the tenderness of a man who has no idea that his world is about to collapse.
"I'm heading to my study. I still have a few things to finish before bed."
I smile faintly, offering no reply. I won't give him any hint of what's going through my mind. I watch him rise and walk toward the study with his usual confident stride. He opens the door, steps in, and closes it quietly.
I wait.
The seconds stretch longer than usual. I hear the soft hum of his laptop powering on from the dining room. Ge believes there's nothing left to uncover, that dinner was enough to reinforce his alibi. But I still have one thing left to do.
I stand calmly and head upstairs. Each step echoes on the wood, in rhythm with the steady beat of my heart. I walk down the hallway with the same certainty I've always had in this house. Nothing has changed in the structure of our home—but everything has changed in me.
I open the door to the laundry room. The hamper is full. All the clothes from his trip have been thrown in there. My hand slides slowly over the edge of the basket, and I pull out a shirt at random. I bring it to my face.
The scent hits me instantly. Sweet. Floral. Feminine.
I don't feel sad. I don't feel despair. Only a controlled anger. An unshakable certainty. There is no room left for doubt. And for the first time since this nightmare began, I allow myself the satisfaction of knowing… It will all be over very soon.
CHAPTER 11
The hot water slides over my skin, slipping in a futile attempt to wash away something that doesn't live on the surface. I keep scrubbing my arms, my collarbones, the curve of my neck, but the sticky feeling of Hu Ge's lies is still here, clinging to me like an invisible stain. It's as if his betrayal has seeped into every pore, every cell of my body, and no matter how hard I try, I can't rid myself of it. The soap smells like chamomile—a scent that used to calm me—but now it only reminds me of what I've lost. Of what he's destroyed.
I close my eyes, letting the steam fill the small bathroom, surrounding me in a dense fog that cuts me off from the rest of the world. The water pounds against my back—constant, monotonous—as if trying to carry away not just the dirt, but the weight of the memories that haunt me. I try not to think. I try not to remember the dinner, his voice spilling out as easily as every lie he tells.
"I missed you."
Liar.
"The trip was exhausting."
Hypocrite.
"I'll make it up to you, I promise."
Empty promises.
My eyelids grow heavy, and I rest my forehead against the cold tiles. Irony hits me hard. I'm here, under hot water, trying to cleanse my skin—while he's just meters away, convinced his performance is intact. My husband. The man who used to be my refuge, my partner, my love. The same man who now showers before seeing me—to wash away the scent of another woman.
A knot forms in my throat. It's not sadness. It's not painful. It's raging. It's disgust. I open my eyes and shut off the water abruptly. The silence that follows is deafening. It's as if everything around me is holding its breath, waiting for my next move.
I step out and reach for a towel with mechanical movements, drying myself slowly. There's no rush. When I look in the mirror, the steam has blurred my reflection. It's just a vague silhouette unrecognizable. I run my fingers across the glass, wiping it bit by bit until my face comes into focus.
The eyes staring back at me are not the same as before. My skin is still mine, my features are unchanged, but there's something strange in my expression. Distant. Hollow. I remember when I used to get ready for Ge. I'd look at myself in this same mirror and smile, waiting for his praise when he saw me dressed in one of my best outfits.
"You look stunning."
"You're the most perfect woman I've ever known."
"I could never love anyone the way I love you."
Words that used to make me happy. Now, in this same reflection, those words are ash.
I dress slowly, sliding into my satin nightgown and wrapping the matching robe around my shoulders. The brush of the fabric on my skin has always felt like a personal luxury soft caress before sleep. But tonight, I feel nothing. I cross the room and stop in front of the window. The lights in the house next door are on.
I stand there, silently watching.
That's where my husband's lover lives. The woman he's shared his body with. His time. His money. Is she waiting for him now? Will she let him spend the night with me, or will she do everything she can to steal him away?
My jaw tightens. I can't help but imagine it. My husband walking into that house with the same smile he gives me. My husband slipping between the sheets with another woman, whispering the same words he once whispered only to me. Disgust rises in my throat.
My mind drifts back to the plan I've been building. I need someone to draft a divorce agreement that gives me my freedom. I need to make sure he signs it without suspecting anything. It won't be easy. He's smart. But he thinks he's smarter than he really is…
I don't know how long I've been lost in thought when I hear the door open. I don't turn. I don't need to. I know it's him. I feel his steps approaching with that same confident rhythm. And before I can react, his arms wrap around me from behind. The weight of his chin rests on my shoulder—like he used to do. Like nothing has changed.
"What are you thinking about?"
His voice is soft, intimate. The voice of a loving husband. The voice of a man who believes he's innocent. My body stiffens. Once, his embrace was shelter. A safe place. Now, it's a cage. I inhale deeply and force my tone to stay neutral.
"Work."
It's not a lie. I am thinking about my company. How I need to plan every move so that the inevitable divorce doesn't cost me everything. I feel Hu Ge settle closer against me. His warm breath grazes my neck. My stomach churns. My mind fills with images—his mouth kissing someone else's skin, his hands exploring another body. Mine responds involuntarily to his touch… but he no longer belongs to me.
Disgusting floods through me. Still, I smile.
"We have a new neighbor."
My tone is light and casual. As if the topic means nothing. I feel him tense, just slightly. Nothing most would notice. But I do.
"Oh, really?"
"That's what I've heard. She's an actress. They say she became the mistress of a powerful man and now lives a life of luxury she never imagined."
Hu Ge is quiet for one beat too long. Just one. But it's enough.
"How do you know all that?"
His tone is light, almost amusing. But not quite.
"I heard it."
"You shouldn't listen to that kind of gossip. Most of the time it's not true."
I smile. My husband thinks the conversation is over.
But it's not.
I try to shift subtly away, but his hold tightens. Suddenly, his mouth brushes my neck and his hand glides familiarly over my stomach. The nausea hits me hard. How can he touch me after being with her?How can he kiss me without guilt?
My body freezes. Every caress feels like multiplied betrayal, like his simple touch is a reminder of everything he's done. I can't take it anymore.
"Not tonight."
Hu Ge pauses.
"Why?"
I turn slowly to face him.
"I have my period."
His expression changes instantly. It's not disappointment. It's immediate acceptance. He doesn't push. He doesn't ask again.
"Do you need a hot water bottle? Want some ginger tea?"
His concern is so natural it almost makes me laugh. For the first time in a long while, I see him exactly as he is. A man who can lie to his wife without blinking. And at the same time, a husband who still believes that these small gestures of care mean something.
"No need. I already made it myself."
I step away and slip into bed. He watches me in silence. Then he turns off the lights.
The sound of his phone vibrating on the nightstand slices through the quiet.
I already know who's messaging him.
*****
I hear him moving cautiously. He tries not to make a sound, but I know exactly what he's doing. My eyes remain closed, my breathing steady, pretending to be in the deep sleep he needs me to be in to do what he's about to do. The mattress dips slightly when he leans over to grab his phone. I hear the subtle friction of his fingers sliding across the screen, the pause before reading the message. Silence. I don't respond. I don't move. But every fiber of my body is alert.
I feel him slipping out of bed with the same caution he's used to deceive me. Every one of his movements is precise, calculated. He walks barefoot across the room with the agility of someone who's done this many times before. My husband is an expert in betrayal. He stops for a moment. Maybe he's hesitating. Maybe he wonders if I've noticed anything. Or maybe, he's not thinking about me at all.
When I hear the door of the dressing room open, my eyelid's part slowly. Just a couple of centimeters. Just enough to see him through the shadows. He has his back to me, shirtless, in black pajama pants. He pulls out a shirt from the closet, a jacket. He gets dressed in calm precision, as if this were just another routine. And something inside me writes with silent fury. How can he do it so calmly?
When he's done, he looks at himself in the mirror. He runs his hands through his hair, styling it lightly. As if he wants to look his best before going out. As if he were going on a date. Because that's exactly what he's doing. The poison of certainty spreads inside me. Ge fastens the watch on his wrist and spends a few more seconds in front of the mirror. His reflection is that of a flawless man, a man without a single worry. A man who believes he's invincible.
He turns and walks back into the bedroom. He stops beside the bed.
"Yifei…" he whispers.
I don't move. I hear him wait for a few seconds. Maybe he's debating whether to touch me, to make sure I'm asleep. But he doesn't. I hear him exhaling softly, and then he walks away. The door to the room opens. Then, the sound of his footsteps going down the stairs. The front door closes with a faint click.
And then I move.
I sit up in bed with a controlled motion. There's no visible anger on my face, no tears in my eyes. Everything is deliberate. I get to my feet, take my robe from the chair and slip it over my body. My gaze falls on the mirror. There's no rage in my eyes—only resolve.
I leave the room on silent feet. I walk down the stairs without turning on a single light, letting the dimness hide me. The house is quiet, but I feel the tension building inside me with each step. When I reach the front door, I stop. I wait. Outside, I hear his footsteps echoing into the silence of the night. I wait a few more seconds, letting him get ahead. Then, I go out.
The night air is cold, but I don't feel it. I don't know how long I've been following him, but every second feels like an eternity. Hu Ge walks with the same certainty as always. He's not in a hurry. He knows someone is waiting for him. He stops in front of a brightly lit house. My chest tightens when the door opens.
There she is. The actress. The mistress. She's wearing a red nightgown, so sheer it leaves little to the imagination. Her lips are painted the same color, her hair perfectly done, as if she's been getting ready for this moment for hours. The way she looks at him, the way she smiles—it's shameless, so sure of the power she holds over him.
And then, without a moment's hesitation, she throws herself into his arms.
"I missed you!" she laughs, clinging to his neck.
"How could you miss me? It's only been a few hours."
Hu Ge holds her by the waist and lifts her easily, as if that's exactly where she belongs. As if this is the home he truly belongs to. The two of them enter together, and the door closes behind them.
And I stay there. Watching.
The cold night air wraps around me, but I don't feel it. I look toward the window on the upper floor. I don't have to wait long. Soon, the shadows appear. Two figures entwined, merging in the intimacy of a room that was never mine.
My mind tries to process it, but my body doesn't react. No tears, no screams, no pleas rise within me. Only one absolute certainty: I feel nothing. The love that once existed inside me died tonight.
I turn around and walk back home. My steps are slow and measured. I don't stop. I don't hesitate. Each step I take is a silent farewell. When I arrive, I close the door gently behind me. I climb the stairs without turning on any lights. My bedroom welcomes me with its usual stillness. The bed is there, untouched, as if nothing had changed. But everything has.
I slide under the covers and close my eyes. My mind is calm. Everything has been decided.
And just as that peace begins to settle over me, my phone vibrates.
I reach for it slowly. On the screen, there is a message from an unknown number. My pulse doesn't quicken. My mind already knows what it is.
Still, I open it.
A video.
I tap play. The screen lights up, and the image appears before me. Him. And her. The very scene I just witnessed through the window—but this time in high definition. No blurred angles. No distorted shadows. There's no way to deny it. Hu Ge kissing her. Hu Ge's mouth exploring her body. Hu Ge touching her with the same passion he once reserved for me. The screen of my phone is blurry, but not because I'm crying. There are no tears. There is no pain. Only emptiness.
And within that emptiness, one thing remains crystal clear:
Soon, my life with him will be over.
CHAPTER 12
"Why did I come back here?"
It's the question that repeats itself in my mind over and over as I stare at the closed door of Walter's office. Just a few days ago, I didn't believe clairvoyance was real. I thought everyone who talked about it was a fraud. And yet, Walter's arrival in my life has shifted everything I believed in. I'm not referring to what he saw—I try to forget that part because, right now, it doesn't seem convincing. I just want to free myself from the cross I carry on my shoulders, from the slavery I'm shackled to, which hurts...
I look at the door again, and a shiver runs through me. I'm here because he's the only one I can trust at this moment. The only one who might save me from the darkness I'm drowning in. Walter must have a solution—I don't doubt that for a second.
The images from the video reappear in my mind. My husband kissing another woman. His moans, his burning words… I clench my fists and feel my nails dig into my palms. There's no pain. I feel nothing.
"Are you going to stand there for much longer?"
His voice reaches me before my knuckles even brush the wood. I freeze for a second, then inhale and step inside. Walter greets me with a hug. I think he senses how much I need it. My tears—the ones I've been holding back because Ge doesn't deserve them—start to fall uncontrollably. And Walter simply stands there, embracing me, listening to my cries of desperation. I don't know how long I remain like that—maybe seconds, maybe minutes—but I know it's long enough, because when the sobs stop, I'm left with a quiet peace I hadn't felt since I first suspected my husband was with someone else.
"Come in. Sit down. I think we have a lot to talk about," he says calmly, with that voice that always manages to soothe me, as if nothing else around us matters.
I don't stop in the little waiting area he uses for his other clients. I head straight to the room where he'll work with me—free me. The scent of incense fills the air, wrapping me in a mystical, almost sacred atmosphere.
"I'm sorry I didn't call you, but I needed to see you."
A brief silence.
"I figured as much when I saw you standing at the door."
A bitter laugh escapes my lips before I can hold it back.
"Though I'm not really sure why I'm here."
Walter doesn't answer right away. He studies me carefully, as if analyzing every tiny gesture, every trace of tension in my face.
"Yes, you do," he says eventually. "You're here because you need answers."
I glance away, searching for the right words to begin.
"I don't know what to do," I whisper. "I don't know how to keep going without feeling like I'm sinking deeper and deeper."
Walter leans forward slightly.
"Start with what hurts the most."
His words hit me in the chest.
I close my eyes for a moment, feeling my whole-body tense. When I open them again, I focus on the surface of the desk, unable to meet his gaze.
"My mother left us when I was a child."
It's the first time I've said it aloud in years.
"I remember the fight between her and my father. I remember the shouting, the sound of something breaking… and then, the silence. The next day, she was gone. She left with another man and never came back."
The shadow of those memories settles over me with the same weight as before.
"My father changed after that. He became distant, cold. He raised me with discipline, with strict rules, but never with love. When I inherited his company, it was as if I existed solely to continue his legacy."
I clench my fists in my lap.
"I've always been afraid of being left behind. Of being betrayed."
I lift my eyes and find Walter's gaze fixed on mine; his expression unreadable.
"My husband's betrayal feels like a knife to the heart. I know I want to leave him, but I can't find the strength to do it," I continue, my voice taut with pain.
Walter nods slowly.
"The pain you feel isn't just about Hu Ge. It's everything you've been carrying since you were a child. Your mother's betrayal, your father's emotional abandonment… You've been looking for love in the wrong places your entire life, Yifei."
His words strike straight into my chest.
"So where is it?" I ask. "Why hasn't it come to me yet? What is it waiting for?"
For the first time, Walter gives a faint smile.
"How many steps do you want to climb at once?"
The question catches me off guard, but I remember what he said about the staircase, and I smile. He's right—I want to reach the top too fast, and now I understand that's not the way.
"I want to take it one step at a time," I finally admit.
"Well said. Let's focus on what's happened since last week and try to solve the dilemma."
I speak without pause. I tell him everything, leaving nothing out. My face shows every emotion my heart feels as I pour it all out. Walter remains serious, attentive, listening to every word. Suddenly, he extends a hand. I look at him, puzzled.
"Give me your left hand. I need to confirm what I'm seeing."
As strange as it may seem, I no longer flinch at such a statement of clairvoyance. Since I first stepped into his home, the strangest thing here has been finding something normal. I offer him my hand, and he places two fingers gently on my wrist. He remains silent for a moment, then smiles.
"The strength you need to free yourself is already growing inside you," he says, his smile widening.
I roll my eyes. I don't understand what he means. Is something growing inside me... or is it just the hatred?
"I don't get it. If you could explain that better, I'd appreciate it," I reply with a slightly mocking tone.
And then he says it.
"Yifei, you're pregnant."
My entire body freezes. The sound of traffic outside his office seems to fade away, the air turns dense, heavy.
"What?!" I finally manage to say.
Walter's expression remains unchanged.
"You're going to have a baby."
I feel the ground vanish beneath my feet. His words float in the air, impossible to ignore, impossible to process.
"No... No, that can't be…"
My mind begins to race with calculations. When was the last time I had my period? I try to remember, but my brain feels like it has come to a halt.
"I... I can't have more children..."
Walter watches me with patience, giving me time to absorb it.
"I know you had a miscarriage and that they told you you wouldn't be able to conceive again, but sometimes doctors are wrong. Or maybe God has decided to give you the strength you're seeking through new life," he explains calmly, as if this were a simple matter. "It's a girl," he adds, smiling broadly.
The world keeps spinning around me.
"A girl?"
He nods.
"Yes. And you must have her."
A tremor shakes my body. I'm not ready for this news. Not now. I'm still reeling from discovering Ge's infidelity, and now this?
"How can you be so sure?" I press.
Walter rests his elbows on the table and intertwines his fingers.
"I sensed it from the moment I met you, but it wasn't the right time to reveal such a truth. Besides, you were more concerned with confirming your husband's betrayal than noticing the changes happening inside your body," he says, with a hint of amusement. "But the most important thing isn't the discovery, it's the purpose of that life." He pauses, and the silence leaves me breathless. "Yifei, that little girl will be your only salvation."
My chest rises and falls quickly.
"What does that mean?"
"That this baby isn't here by chance. Despite the man who fathered her, her existence will be a light for you. She'll help you find the path you believe you've lost."
Tears pool in my eyes before I can stop them.
"I don't know if I can do it…"
Walter looks at me with a calm unbearable right now, feels unbearable.
"Life doesn't offer second chances, Yifei. Either you take what it's offering you now, or you let it slip away. Just don't come crying over what you chose not to fight for."
Silence fills the space between us.
I look out the window, at the traffic, at the people walking by, unaware that my world has just changed forever. For the first time in a long while, I feel like maybe... just maybe, there's something beyond the pain—something that might be worth holding onto. I don't know how long I sit there before I finally rise. Walter doesn't try to stop me. He just watches me as I walk to the door. And just as I'm about to leave, I hear his voice one last time.
"Whatever your decision may be, Yifei... you won't be alone."
I can't reply.
I simply walk out, feeling my heart pounding fiercely in my chest. The afternoon air greets me with its cold breeze, but it's not enough to calm the storm burning inside me. I think it's time to talk to Na—and tell her everything that's happening to me.
CHAPTER 13
As the taxi drives me to the pub where I'm meeting Na, I pull my phone out of my purse and, without thinking too much, type a message to Ge with the same coldness I've been repeating it in my mind all day:
"I'll be with Na tonight. Don't wait up."
There's no hesitation in my fingers, though something inside me wavers. I send the message and lock the screen, as if that could stop the inevitable. His reply comes immediately.
"Have fun."
The impact is sudden—not because I'm surprised, but because it feels like the final blow to something that's been dying for a long time. Once upon a time, he would've asked what time I'd be home, where I'd be, if I wanted him to pick me up. But not anymore. His response is dry, emotionless, indifferent. The kind of message you'd expect from a stranger—not from your husband.
I take a deep breath and stare at the screen for a moment longer, feeling something inside me crumble in silence, like a house of cards collapsing under its own weight.
Walter was right.
I can't help but smile bitterly at the thought of him. Saint Walter—the healer every woman should have by her side. Maybe I should build him an altar and light incense in his honor.
I lower my gaze, and my fingers—almost involuntarily—brush against my stomach. I still don't know what to do. I don't know if this little girl should be born, if I should bring her into a world where her father has already replaced me, where the love she was conceived in has turned to ash. But none of this is her fault…
I close my eyes for a moment, letting the night breeze touch my face. I try to remember the last time I was truly happy with Ge. A blurred image comes to mind dinner, shared laughter, a night when he held me gently and promised we would always be together.
How long ago was that? How many anniversaries, how many "late work nights" were really nights of passion with another woman?
Part of me wants to know the full truth. The other prefers to remain ignorant. I shake my head and breathe deeply. Not tonight. I won't think about him or all that he has destroyed. I focus on the present.
I step out of the taxi and walk straight to the entrance of the Jin Bar, an elegant pub with its golden sign glowing above the door and the hum of live music spilling into the street. The place is known for its sophisticated atmosphere and exclusive clientele.
And then, it happens.
One second I'm alone, and the next I feel a commanding presence in front of me.
I lift my gaze.
We remain silent.
It's him.
Wang Kai.
I recognize him instantly. Owner of one of the most powerful law firms in Hangzhou, known for being ruthless in court and a cold, calculating strategist. His reputation precedes him—a man who doesn't lose cases, who leaves no loose ends, who's always one step ahead.
His dark suit fits his frame perfectly. He has a powerful presence, the kind that commands respect without a word. But what strikes me most is his gaze. Dark. Intense. As if he's trying to read me without asking a single question.
We stare at each other for seconds that stretch longer than they should. There's no awkwardness, no familiarity either. It's as if time has stopped as if the noise of the bar and the city around us has vanished for a moment.
I don't know why I feel the need to speak. A simple "good evening." Anything to break this strange magnetism. I part my lips to say something.
But at that very moment, Na's voice shatters the silence.
"Yifei!" she calls out enthusiastically, hurrying toward me.
I blink, as if waking from a trance. The moment breaks. Wang Kai looks at me for one more second, with an unreadable expression, then gives a slight nod—a gesture so subtle, so elegant. Without a word, he walks into the bar.
"Are you all, right?" Na asks, watching me closely.
I take a breath.
"Yes," I reply quickly, forcing myself to look away from Wang Kai. "Let's go."
Na doesn't press. She loops her arm through mine with quiet determination and leads me inside.
The atmosphere embraces us instantly: dim lighting, the hum of conversations, the sound of ice clinking in glasses, the scent of liquor and polished wood. The Jin Bar is the kind of place where time slows down, where the troubles of the outside world fade away into glasses of wine and smooth jazz melodies. But as we make our way to our private booth, my eyes instinctively scan the room.
And I see him.
Wang Kai is at the bar. He's not alone, though he doesn't seem particularly engaged in the conversation with his companion. His attention, subtle but unmistakable, is still on me. My pulse quickens slightly, though I don't know why. With a quiet shake of my head, I force myself to ignore him and let Na guide me to our private room.
CHAPTER 14
The lights of the Jin Bar flicker faintly, reflecting off the half-empty glasses on the table. The music continues to wrap the atmosphere in a warm melody, but inside this private room, a storm is brewing. Na slams her glass down on the table, and the sound of crystal against wood echoes like a gunshot in the silence before the explosion.
"That son of a bitch!" she exclaims, fury vibrating in every word. "Fucking bastard! I knew something was wrong with that guy! I've known it for months!"
I lean my elbows on the table, watching as her anger erupts without restraint. Na has always been like this: passionate, explosive, incapable of holding back. It's one of the things I admire most about her, though in moments like this, her intensity can be overwhelming.
"But this? This is a whole different level, Yifei!" she continues, waving her hands as if she could tear Ge's head off from afar. "This is betrayal at its highest level!"
Her jaw is clenched, her eyes burning with a fire that refuses to dim. For a moment, it seems like she might actually break something. I, on the other hand, remain in complete control. Or at least, that's what I try to project.
"I don't want you to end up in jail for murder, Na," I say with a soft smile, trying to ease the tension.
Na shoots me witheringly and leans forward as if to shake me.
"How can you be so calm?" she asks, her voice loaded with disbelief.
I shrug and take a long sip from my glass. The whiskey slides down my throat, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste I can't tell is from the drink or the situation itself.
"Because there's no going back now," I reply, setting the glass down with a soft thud. "I'm going to divorce him."
The air in the room shifts. Na's fury turns into disbelief. Her eyes widen as if I'd just told her I was moving to another planet.
"Are you serious?" she asks in a low voice.
"There's nothing more certain in my life right now," I say, holding her gaze steadily.
Na lets out a sharp, ironic laugh and shakes her head.
"Finally! I thought you'd keep waiting for an apology, a confession, a fucking sign of redemption."
I press my lips together. Her words echo in my mind, reminding me of all the times I clung to the hope that Ge would change, that things would return to the way they were. But that hope has vanished, like a mirage in the desert.
"Ge will never apologize," I say firmly, almost as if trying to convince myself.
Na lets out a long sigh and runs her hands through her hair, as though she's trying to process everything she's just heard.
"God, Yifei. That man has power, money, connections… He's not going to let you go easily."
"That's why I need to be smarter than him," I reply, and for the first time tonight, my words feel weighty—not just a declaration, but a promise.
She looks at me closely, setting her anger aside for a moment. Her eyes, always so expressive, are now filled with concern and curiosity.
"Do you have a plan?" she asks, leaning in like she's about to hear a secret.
"Yes," I answer—and in my mind, the image of Wang Kai reappears, uninvited. The way he looked at me outside the bar, the intensity in his expression.
"But I need someone who can help me execute it."
Na nods seriously, as if she already knows where this is headed.
"First, you're going to need a damn good lawyer to deal with everything you two have tied up together."
"I already have someone in mind," I say. I don't mention his name, but I know Na senses it. The way her eyes narrow and her lips curl into a knowing half-smile gives her away.
"And what are you going to do afterward?" she continues, switching topics with her usual agility.
That's the hardest question. The answer has been in my head for weeks, but saying it out loud makes it all too real.
"I'm leaving," I say, and the words come out with a firmness that surprises even me.
Na stays silent. I'm not surprised by her reaction. She's always been strong—but she also wants me in her life. Our friendship started when we were six, and we've been like sisters ever since. Nothing has ever kept us apart for more than six days, and I know my decision will affect her as much as it does me.
"What about the company? Everything you've built?" she asks, her voice softer now, almost afraid.
I clench my fists under the table, feeling my nails dig into my palms. The company has been my life for years, my sanctuary, my pride. But now, it's just another thing Ge has tainted with his betrayal.
"I'll leave it in the hands of someone I trust until I return," I confess, though I know that answer doesn't satisfy her.
Na crosses her arms and leans back, as if evaluating every word I've said.
"So, basically, you're planning to disappear for a few years," she says. And even though it's not phrased as a question, I nod.
"Yes."
She lets out a heavy sigh, as if she's processing the idea. Her gaze drifts into the void for a moment, then returns to me, full of determination.
"I hate this, but I support you," she finally says, and her words are balm to my soul.
I smile at her gently and raise my glass.
"Then let's toast."
Na narrows her eyes, as if she suspects there's something more behind my proposal.
"To what?" she asks, her tone filled with curiosity.
"To my new life," I reply. Though I haven't told her that I'm pregnant and unsure what to do with life growing inside me, I know that I will keep this child the moment I free myself from Ge.
She looks at me for a moment, her eyes intense and piercing, as if searching for something. That secret I'm still keeping... Then she lifts her glass and holds it in the air.
"Besides your new life, we have to add something else," she says, and her voice carries a tone that leaves no room for discussion.
"What?" I ask, intrigued.
Na smiles, and there's something in that smile that makes me feel like, no matter what happens, everything will be okay.
"Let's toast to the day that asshole Ge realizes what he's lost and regrets it."
My hand tightens around the glass. Na's words echo in my mind, reminding me that, for the first time in a long while, I hold the reins. Because he won't just lose me—he'll lose our daughter too. My little girl will be born without a father, but with a mother who will love her enough for both.
The toast never happens...
Na goes silent and looks down at my left hand. It's resting on my belly, and I hadn't even realized it. But my friend is sharp—or maybe we just know each other too well to hide anything.
Her expression shifts…
"Yifei!" she cries out, pretending to scold me.
My hand presses tighter against my stomach, as if trying to shield my daughter from yelling, the cursing, and everything her future aunt is about to say once she confirms her suspicion.
"No..." she says, shaking her head.
My throat dries up. I know what's coming, and even if I'm not ready to say it, I know I can't avoid it.
"Na..." I begin, but she cuts me off.
"No fucking way, Yifei," she blurts out, and her tone is dangerous—like a bomb about to explode.
I take a deep breath and finally say it.
"Yes, I'm pregnant. I don't know how it happened, since you know perfectly well the doctors told me I'd never be able to have a child again… but here I am."
Na is stunned by the confirmation. It's the first time all night she's completely speechless. She blinks several times, trying to process it. Then she leans back into the sofa as if she needs physical support to keep from collapsing.
"Since when do you know?" she finally asks.
"Since this morning," I answer. And though I try to remain calm, I know my voice trembles slightly.
Na leans forward; her eyes filled with questions.
"Have you taken a test? Why? What symptoms are you having?"
"I haven't done anything," I say calmly, because when I tell her how I found out, she might end up cursing even the devil himself.
"How many days late are you?" she presses.
"I wouldn't even be late until next week," I reply, and the look on her face makes me laugh. Poor Na doesn't know what to think anymore.
"I went to see Walter this morning," I confess, and although I know Na's not a fan of him, I have no choice but to tell her the truth.
"Walter? The santero?" she asks, appalled, as if I'd just asked her to jump off a fifty-story building.
"Your mom gave me his card when I was in the hospital," I explain, trying to justify my decision. "At first, I had no intention of going. But after finding out about the affair, I needed support."
"What the hell am I here for, then?!" she exclaims, pointing to herself like she's offended for not being my first choice.
"I needed a stranger," I clarify, knowing she might not fully understand, but it's the truth. "At the time, I felt guilty for everything that was happening… and for how my discovery was going to affect everyone around me."
Na sighs and leans back again, trying to process everything she's just heard.
"You're the most amazing woman in the world, Yifei," she finally says, and her words hit me deeply. "What your husband did is not your fault. It's because he can't keep his dick in his pants. And that actress probably did everything she could to get him into bed."
"It takes two to tango," I say, quoting the line Walter used—one that I loved enough to make my own.
Na nods slowly, clearly agreeing, though her expression remains serious.
"Okay, you're right," she says, locking eyes with me. "Tell me, what else did Saint Walter say?"
I smile when I hear her refer to the santero the same way I do.
"A lot of things. But what really stunned me was that, without me telling him a thing, he said Ge was cheating—and told me exactly how many years it's been going on."
"Years?" she shouts, like lightning just struck her.
"Three," I reply calmly. "I guess it started right after my miscarriage."
"That motherfucker!" she screams, her voice overflowing with the desire to murder my husband.
"It's all in the past," I say quietly, trying to calm her, though I know her eyes won't give me the peace I seek.
Na scoffs and rolls her eyes.
"And did he say what it's going to be?" she asks, eager to hear more about what the santero predicted.
"A girl," I answer. "And if his visions are true, she'll have my hair and my nose."
"Do you trust him?" she finally asks.
The question doesn't catch me off guard, because I've asked myself the same thing. How can I trust a man who claims to have visions or says he can heal people? What kind of reliability does that offer? Could he be a fraud? And yet, after being with him… yes, I do trust him.
"Completely," I state with certainty. "So, get ready for that man your mother says you're going to meet."
Na lets out a snort and rolls her eyes, as if she's had enough of hearing about Walter.
"And what are you going to do?" she shifts the topic quickly—because I know talk of a future husband makes her skin crawl.
"I don't know," I answer honestly.
"Do you want to have her?" she presses.
My hand instinctively rests on my belly again.
"Yes."
Na nods slowly, trying to take it all in.
"So, after what you've said, I take it Hu Ge..."
"Will never know," I interrupt before she can finish the sentence.
Her expression changes immediately. Something in her eyes darkens, turns more serious.
"Better that way," she decides at last. "Hu Ge already took too much from you. You're not going to let him take this, too."
I swallow hard and nod. Yes. This is my victory.
Na smiles and lifts her glass.
"Now we toast for real."
Her eyes shine with conviction.
"To you, Yifei. To your daughter. To the life you're going to build far away from that bastard."
I raise my glass and tap it gently against hers. The sound of the crystal clinking echoes in the air, and at that moment, I know—my life has changed forever.