“That poor woman, stole mother’s diamond watch, get on your knees and leave this mansion right now!” I looked at my wife WHO I loved with all my heart, while my hand continued to ble:ed from the wound from the broken glass.

“Call my attorney,” I said calmly. “Freeze every account under Ethan Carter’s name. Immediately.”

“Yes, Miss.”

The car pulled away smoothly.

In the side mirror, I caught a glimpse of them—Ethan and Charlotte rushing out of the gate, confusion and panic written all over their faces as their phones began ringing one after another.

Too late.

Far too late.

But there was still more they didn’t understand.

As the city lights blurred past the window, I pressed my hand against the wound on my palm. The sting was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the realization that the man I had loved had been capable of hurting me so easily… over something so meaningless.

“Miss Amelia, we should stop at a hospital,” James, our longtime driver, said gently. “Your father won’t be pleased if he sees you hurt.”

“No,” I replied, my gaze fixed ahead. “Take me straight to Carter Group headquarters. I want to watch everything unfold.”

An hour later, I sat in my office—high above the city, surrounded by glass walls and quiet power. A nurse carefully cleaned the blood from my hand while I watched the live updates on the screen in front of me.

Then my private phone rang.

Ethan.

I answered.

“Amelia! What did you do?!” His voice was frantic, completely different from the man who had just thrown me out. “My cards are all blocked! There are officers here saying we have to leave the house—it’s being seized!”

In the background, I could hear Margaret shouting hysterically and Charlotte crying.

I felt… nothing.

“Ethan,” I said calmly, “I told you already. Everything is under my name.”

Silence.

“For three years, I lived like nothing,” I continued. “I cooked, cleaned, and stayed silent because I believed love was enough. But you were right about one thing—I do smell like the market. Because I was the one buying your groceries, making your meals, taking care of everything you never noticed.”

I paused, letting the words sink in.

“And you?” I added softly. “You smell like something fake. Because everything about you… was borrowed.”

“Amelia, please,” he said, his voice breaking. “We can fix this. I didn’t know who you really were.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” I replied. “You never cared to know.”

“Please—just talk to me—”

“No.”

I ended the call.

“Block his number,” I told my assistant. “And make sure the legal team proceeds with the embezzlement charges. No delays.”

The next morning, I visited the detention center.