The sky hung low, dark and oppressive, drizzling a steady rain.

Catherine left the cemetery, hailing a taxi to head home. The past two days had been spent handling her grandfather’s funeral. Her husband, John, had been so busy that he barely had time to rest. She convinced him to go home and get some sleep.

Now, as she stepped up to the entrance, she moved quietly, not wanting to disturb him.

Just as her hand reached for the door handle, an unusual noise from inside made her pause.

“Darling, when will you get a divorce?”

“Soon,” John replied. “Now that the old man from the White family is out of the picture, Catherine is no longer a threat. Once I completely take over the Smith Corporation…”

“But I’m pregnant now, and you still haven’t given me an official title. Ugh… stop teasing me…”

Catherine’s fingers trembled against the handle. She sucked in a sharp breath, telling herself she must have misheard.

But the sickly sweet voices of a man and a woman continued to spill from inside.

Cautiously, she pushed the door open.

What she saw hit her like a punch to the gut—clothes strewn across the floor, a man and a woman entwined on the sofa in a nauseating display.

“Ah… someone… uh…” The naked woman gasped, though her eyes gleamed with smug satisfaction. She curled closer to John, feigning fear.

John turned, his gaze darting about nervously. But the hesitation lasted only a moment. Then, with a brazen smirk, he said:

“Since you’ve already seen and heard everything, there’s no point in hiding it. The only reason I married you was for the Smith family. Now that I own half of the Smith Corporation’s shares, if you behave and stay Mrs. White, you’ll live comfortably. But if you dare let today’s events slip…”

His eyes darkened.

“Don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

“John… You!!!”

Catherine’s eyes filled with despair. So this man—this wolf in sheep’s clothing—admitted it just like that!

From the very beginning, he had only married her for the Smith family. And to get what he wanted, he had even harmed her trusting grandfather—the very man who had always liked him!

No wonder, after years of marriage, John had always found excuses not to share the same bed. It was never about work or exhaustion. It was for her. Margaret. The woman he truly cherished. The mole buried deep in his heart.

And she—his rightful wife—had become completely useless.

Catherine bit her lip hard, but no amount of pressure could stop her from trembling. How terrifying is human nature, really?

She looked at the so-called loving couple before her. She thought of her deceased grandfather. She thought of all the years she had spent being blind, trusting, foolish.

Grief and pain twisted inside her, but slowly, something else took their place.

Hatred.

Through gritted teeth, she forced out a declaration, each word carrying the weight of an oath:

“John, from this moment on, we are completely severed. I will take back the Smith Corporation. I will avenge my grandfather. One day—” she stepped forward, her gaze burning into his, “—you will regret this.”

She meant every word.

Though she looked like she might collapse at any moment, a chilling aura surrounded her. With one final glare at the two, she turned and walked away.

John stood frozen, shock flickering in his eyes.

Something about the way Catherine had spoken sent a ripple of unease through him.

This wasn’t like her.

In his memory, she had loved him—so much that she would have endured anything for his sake.

How could she walk away so easily?

Margaret’s face twisted with worry as she turned to John. “Johnny, now that she knows everything, what are we going to do? What if she tells the shareholders?”

John scoffed. “What’s there to fear? She has no evidence. And besides...” His eyes darkened, flashing with menace. “I won’t let her leave so easily.”

On the other side of the city, Catherine stumbled forward, running blindly into the night.

She hadn’t slept at all, and the weight of sorrow and shock pressed down on her like an iron cage. Her vision flickered black, her limbs growing weaker with every step.

She didn’t know how long she ran before her legs finally gave out. She collapsed onto the cold pavement, her consciousness slipping away.

A sudden screech of tires shattered the silence.

A silver-gray Aston Martin skidded to a halt.

The driver’s door swung open and out stepped a man—tall, imposing, dressed in a tailor-made suit. His face, sculpted with elegant precision, was striking enough to steal a breath.

Though effortlessly handsome, his expression remained unreadable. Only a flicker of something—heartache, perhaps—betrayed the stillness in his eyes as he bent down and lifted Catherine into his arms.

His gaze settled on her swollen cheek, and for a brief moment, something unfamiliar stirred in his dark, obsidian eyes. But just as quickly, it vanished behind a mask of indifference.

...

Catherine furrowed her brows in discomfort, her heavy eyelids barely lifting as she stared at the white ceiling above.

“Are you awake?”

The deep, alluring voice sent a jolt through her heart—pleasing yet unfamiliar.

She scrambled backward, clutching the blanket around her.

Her anxious gaze darted to the man standing opposite her. The moment their eyes met, a chill ran down her spine. His stare was piercingly cold, and something about him sent an involuntary shiver through her.

Her instincts screamed that he was dangerous.

Still disoriented, she whispered hoarsely, “Who are you? Were you the one who saved me?”

At her words, the man’s expression shifted. His previously placid face hardened, his gaze turning frostier.

He had been about to pass her a cup of warm water, holding it with a well-defined hand. But at her hesitant, mistrustful question, he paused. Slowly, he pulled the glass back, tilted his head, and casually drank the water himself.

She had completely forgotten him!

A shadow of melancholy streaked across the man's eyes, unnoticed by anyone. However, it quickly transformed into a superior demeanor, his voice exceptionally icy:

"I am merely a businessman."

The slight furrow in

Catherine

Her brows relaxed, thinking about it; who in this world wouldn't take advantage of her, given that her own husband would?

Thinking about

John

's ruthlessness, and her own predicament just before passing out, a sense of desolation, tinged with bitterness, scraped against her heart. She subjugated it forcefully, asking with a forced tranquility:

"Why did you save me then? I possess nothing that you might need, neither do I have the need to be in business with you."

"

Catherine, the favorite child of the Smith family, well-rounded since a tender age, with good looks and a charming personality. Though a little slow when it comes to Sensing her husband's infidelity, Catherine’s fingers curled involuntarily.

"I, Robert Miller, happen to need a wife like you," he stated. "On one hand, you can help me silence the gossip in the Miller family. On the other, you're unlikely to cause me trouble or entanglements.

"Of course, you also need my help for your revenge."

His baritone voice, coldly charming, carried no urgency as if he were discussing nothing more than a business deal.

Catherine clenched her hands tightly. This man had investigated her thoroughly, and every word felt like a dagger to her heart. But, truth be told, he wasn’t wrong.

She forced a scoff. "Even if I do want revenge, why would I marry a stranger? And why should I believe you can help me?"

"You will agree, Catherine."

His gaze, sharp and calculating, pinned her in place, making her feel like a piece on a chessboard—already captured before the game had begun. Then, without another word, he handed her a business card.

Catherine hesitated before taking it. The cardstock was thick and smooth beneath her fingertips, its weight heavier than expected—just like the choice before her. Simple yet elegant, its white front was framed in pale gold. At the center, in pure gold lettering, was a single name:

Miller Inc.