Chapter 1

There's an unwritten rule in high society: spouses must tolerate each other keeping lovers on the side.

I used to think my husband Andre would be the exception, until Andre's mistress showed up at my door.

She stood there with an innocent expression and said:

"I know this is wrong, but Andre says I'm his true love. I know it sounds shameful, but I'm doing this for your own good too. Please divorce him. I'll make sure he gives you a large sum of money as compensation."

She even bent down and bowed to me in apology.

I suddenly found it hilarious and asked her, "Do you know that between Andre and me, he's actually the stay-at-home husband I'm keeping?"

"Did Andre tell you that the villa you're living in and the luxury car you're driving are all mine?"

Mary's lips moved twice, but no sound came out. That burst of courage she'd mustered for true love quickly vanished, leaving only panic and disbelief.

"Guess not," I said casually, stirring my coffee. I continued, "If Andre and I divorce, everything he has and everything he's given you will be taken back. Do you still think your love is so great?"

When Andre came home, the young woman was flushed with embarrassment from my words.

He immediately stepped forward to shield her, his eyes filled with wariness I'd never seen before.

I asked him what this meant.

He just held Mary's hand and said to me, "She's not like the people in your circle. Don't make things difficult for her."

My hand holding the coffee trembled for a moment. Fighting back the discomfort rising in my chest, I looked up at him. "What if I insist on making things difficult?"

His gaze fell on the table behind me.

I followed his line of sight. There was a box filled with pearls on the table.

As the carefully groomed heir of a wealthy family, I'd never lacked quality men around me.

Similarly, my excellence meant I could stabilize a massive business empire without needing a strategic marriage.

Back then, I was quite playful and kept many kept men.

Andre was just one of them.

When I first met him, he was still a college student. Unlike those other men who only talked about money with me, he was different.

Every time, he persistently asked me to confirm my love.

After my business dinners, he'd make me a stomach-soothing porridge.

I had low blood sugar, so he always carried chocolate for me.

One year I was in a car accident. He went to a temple and climbed three thousand steps on his knees to get me a protective charm.

Looking at his swollen forehead and badly bruised knees, I asked him, "Why are you so good to me?"

Because back then, I hadn't given him much money.

He said, "I love you, so I want you to be well."

"If you could love me a little too, that would be even better."

Perhaps moved by his sincere feelings, I sent away all the others and gave him status.

On our wedding day, he gave me a box of pearls that weren't particularly refined.

He said, "I don't have much, but I personally dove for these pearls. Every single one represents my true heart."

"Since you chose me, you can't let me down. If you make me sad, I'll take away one pearl. When all the pearls are gone, I'll leave you and never come back."

Back then I just thought he was endearingly sincere and pure. To reciprocate his feelings, I promised him I definitely wouldn't make him sad.

So after all these years, that box of pearls was still full.

Not a single pearl was missing.

Andre walked over and grabbed a handful of pearls from the box.

The once-full box instantly lost a third of its contents.

Perhaps the shock in my eyes was too obvious, making him think his threat had worked.

"Today you hurt my heart. Think carefully about what you've done."