---
He watched her like a man staring at the last dream he'd ever have.
From the moment her silhouette appeared near the café in the West Wing of the park, Qiao Yichen's entire world went silent.
A black Porsche rolled to a stop, the engine's hum fading into the wind. Zhu Ji, young, sharp, and always composed, stepped out first. He opened the passenger door with precision, then bowed.
"Boss, the area is secure."
Qiao Yichen stepped out slowly.
Thirty-five, brutally handsome, and cold as marble, he didn't just enter a space—he claimed it. His black suit fit like second skin, his presence drawing eyes even as it demanded fear. Born from a military family, forged in fire, he wasn't merely the CEO of Qiao Group—he was the man the capital whispered about behind closed doors: The Dare Devil.
But all the power, all the control, meant nothing right now. Because today, he had to let her go.
"Where is she?" he asked, voice low and dangerously calm.
"West Wing café," Zhu Ji replied. "She arrived fifteen minutes ago."
Qiao Yichen's eyes flicked in her direction. She sat beneath a canopy, face half-shadowed, fingers curled tightly around a coffee cup. Dressed in black floral, with a simple vest over her shoulders, she looked elegant… but fragile. Like a painting fading in the rain.
She used to glow.
Now she barely breathed.
"Keep everyone out of sight. I don't want her feeling watched."
"Yes, sir."
"And get Feng Yuan here. Immediately."
"Yes, President Qiao."
Yichen's gaze stayed locked on her—his wife. Jing Hua.
> She wants freedom, he thought bitterly.
From me.
After four years of marriage, all I am to her… is a cage.
He remembered the girl she once was. Spirited. Mischievous. The one who would steal his coffee just to make him chase her through the garden. He had raised her, protected her, loved her. But somewhere along the way, he'd lost her—and he hadn't realized it until her eyes stopped looking at him like they used to.
> Was I too cold? Too controlling?
Did she ever love me at all?
He clenched his fists. No one could stand in his presence without trembling—except her. And now she wanted out of his life completely.
---
Across the park, Jing Hua was shaking.
Not visibly—on the outside, she was calm, almost indifferent. But inside her chest, her heart thudded like a war drum.
> Why did I agree to meet him here?
The man who destroyed her life… the one she once thought was her salvation.
Her phone rang. She answered.
"Ming?"
"Xiao Hua! Are you at the café?"
"I'm waiting. Once this is over, it's done."
Silence. Then a bitter voice.
"Don't go soft, Hua. Think of your father. Your mother. Everything he destroyed. He took Xiang Ye from you. He humiliated you. Ruined your future. And what did he give in return? Control. Pain. A golden cage."
Jing Hua's lips trembled, but she said nothing.
> I know he loved me, she thought.
But love without trust is poison.
"You promised revenge, remember? For Xiang Ye. For your family."
"I remember," she said quietly.
On the other end of the line, Pei Ming smirked, her moans blending with the sound of skin meeting skin. Tangled in sweat and lust with Xiang Ye, she barely masked her satisfaction.
"I'll head to the office now," Pei Ming murmured. "Since you've transferred your father's company to me, I'll protect it well. Even when you're gone."
"You'd better," Jing Hua said. "It's all that's left of them."
"Of course," Pei Ming replied, biting her lip as Xiang Ye thrust deeper. "Take care, bestie."
The call ended.
"The company is ours now, right?" Xiang Ye asked, breathing heavily.
Pei Ming laughed, wrapping her legs tighter around him. "Yes. After all these years… it's finally ours."
They kissed, oblivious to the weight of betrayal that was about to come crashing down.
---
Back at the café, Qiao Yichen arrived. His presence made the entire space go still, like the air had frozen. Zhu Ji stood beside him, as did Feng Yuan, the top lawyer in the capital and one of his few trusted allies.
Jing Hua didn't flinch as they approached. Her face was blank, lips slightly pale. The only giveaway was her hand—still clenched around her phone like it was a lifeline.
Zhu Ji placed a thick folder on the table.
"Madam, the results of our investigation," he said softly.
She took the file but didn't open it.
Feng Yuan slid the divorce papers next.
"Please review and sign, Mrs. Qiao."
His tone was professional… but not without judgment. Until he glanced at Qiao Yichen—whose glare nearly made him stumble.
If looks could kill, Feng Yuan would be ash.
Qiao Yichen said nothing.
He just stood there, eyes locked on the woman who once called him husband. The woman who now sat before him like a stranger.
And she… didn't even look up