### ”Three years into my marriage to Nathan White, a “Divorce Compensation System” appeared in my life. The premise was simple: if Nathan and I divorced within thirty days, I’d receive a $5 million payout. It wasn’t that I needed the money—but who would turn down $5 million? Especially when this hollow, joyless marriage was as good as worthless. So I drafted the divorce papers and handed them to Nathan. He glared at me, his teeth clenched. “Claire, what kind of game are you playing now?” I was ready to snap back at him, but before I could, strange floating messages appeared in my vision: [Noooo! Mr. White hasn’t even confessed yet, and he’s already about to be dumped!] [Don’t do it! Mr. White loves you! If you leave now, his heart will shatter into a million pieces!] A compensation system and now… mysterious floating messages? Which one was I supposed to believe? Nathan barely glanced at the divorce papers before grabbing his coat and storming out of the house. The messages didn’t stop, though. They hovered in the air, taunting me. I waved my hand at them, trying to swat them away, but of course, I grabbed nothing but air. [He’s heartbroken! Did you see his red-rimmed eyes?] [Poor Mr. White. Three years and not a single word about his feelings. Give him another chance, Claire!] Nathan and I had been married for three years, but it wasn’t a real marriage. We were like roommates, living under the same roof but with separate rooms and lives. The marriage had been arranged. My parents’ company was in crisis, and they needed the White family’s financial support. Nathan’s mother adored me, so our families decided we should marry. Nathan and I were rivals growing up—we fought about everything. But as reluctant partners in this arranged marriage, we’d settled into a sort of truce. We didn’t interfere in each other’s lives. I thought we’d continue this way forever—until the divorce compensation system appeared. The thought of walking away from this charade of a marriage with $5 million was too tempting to resist. That money could help ease my family’s financial burden, and Nathan and I could finally stop pretending to be a happy couple in front of everyone. But Nathan didn’t take my divorce proposal seriously. He assumed it was some kind of prank. What a joke. I was nothing but sincere! No matter. For $5 million, I’d figure out a way to convince him. As I mulled over my next move, the floating messages kept distracting me. Compared to the ridiculous idea that Nathan might have feelings for me, the system’s promise of a payout seemed far more believable. Besides, Nathan’s first love, Ivy, had just returned to town. With her around, getting him to agree to a divorce should be a piece of cake. After three years of putting up with this sham marriage, my freedom was finally within reach. To celebrate, I called my best friend, Kelly, and invited her out to a bar. “Wow, Claire,” Kelly teased over the deafening music, leaning in close so I could hear her. “Is this your way of saying you’re finally letting loose? Aren’t you worried Nathan will flip out?” I smirked, glancing at the male model Kelly had brought along for the night. His physique was… impressive. I wondered if those chiseled abs were real. “What’s there to worry about?” I said. “If all goes well, Nathan will set me free soon enough.” Kelly’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Wait, are you saying Nathan actually agreed to a divorce?” “Agree? What’s there to agree to?” I downed the drink handed to me by the model, the burning sensation making my eyes water. “There’s no love between us. This marriage was never real.” Kelly looked like she was about to launch into one of her romantic fantasy rants, but I waved her off. And then, once again, the floating messages appeared: [You’re so wrong, Claire. Nathan doesn’t just care—he’s obsessed. He’d rather die than let you go.] [You think you’re getting freedom? Think again. Divorce will hurt him more than death.] [Wait, what?! You brought a male model to drink with? Nathan’s already on his way, knife in hand!] I snorted. How ridiculous. As if Nathan cared. He was probably spending the evening with Ivy, reliving their glory days. Everyone thought our marriage was perfect—that we were childhood sweethearts who’d grown into a love story for the ages. Even Kelly, who devoured romance novels like they were candy, believed Nathan was secretly the cold, brooding type who loved me in his own twisted way. But I knew better. Nathan and I were oil and water, forced together by circumstance. Nothing more. In three years of marriage, the closest we’d come to physical affection was the occasional accidental brush of hands. As the night wore on, the drinks kept coming, and my notoriously low alcohol tolerance caught up with me. Three drinks in, and the male model was spinning around me like a carousel. “Hey, handsome,” I slurred, reaching out with a drunken grin. “Come here and let me feel those abs.” The alcohol had made me bold, and honestly, who could blame me? Resisting temptation was hard when it came in six-foot-tall, eight-pack glory. But just as my hand was about to land, someone grabbed my wrist. “Claire,” a deep, familiar voice growled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I blinked, trying to focus on the figure in front of me. Through my drunken haze, I saw a face that looked alarmingly like Nathan’s. “Kelly,” I giggled, turning to my friend. “Why does this guy look so much like Nathan? Did you hire a Nathan lookalike for me? Ha! Maybe I’ll take him home tonight…”
When I woke up, my head was pounding and my throat felt like it had been set on fire. I struggled to sit up, reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, and drained it in one go. The cool liquid soothed my throat, and I felt marginally better. Looking around the familiar bedroom and noticing my neatly changed pajamas, I couldn’t help but marvel at myself. I must have gotten better at handling alcohol because, despite being completely wasted last night, I’d somehow made it home. Though, admittedly, I had zero recollection of how I’d done so. As I silently celebrated my newfound “tolerance,” the door swung open. Nathan White walked in, his face as cold as a glacier. “Awake? Get up and eat,” he ordered, his tone clipped. The sight of him instantly soured my mood. “Mind your own business,” I snapped, pulling the blanket over my head. “I’m sleeping in.” Just as I was preparing to drift back into a blissful nap, the floating messages appeared again, hovering obnoxiously in my line of sight. [It’s over! Mr. White’s jealousy is about to explode, and the heroine is completely oblivious!] [He’s on the verge of losing it! Why can’t he just express his feelings like a normal person?!] Jealousy? Nathan? What did he have to be jealous about? Before I could make sense of what the messages were saying, Nathan yanked the blanket off me. “Get up and eat some porridge. You threw up everywhere last night—your stomach’s probably a mess.” He signaled for the housekeeper to bring in breakfast, and soon a tray of warm congee and light, refreshing side dishes appeared before me. I stared at the food, then back at him. How did he know I’d thrown up? I didn’t even remember doing that. “You knew I was drunk last night?” I asked cautiously, my voice tinged with unease. “Mm-hmm.” Nathan didn’t even look up from his meal, his face as unreadable as ever. “And… did I say or do anything?” My stomach churned—not from the hangover, but from sheer dread. Alcohol had a way of making me do stupid things, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d made an absolute fool of myself. Nathan’s response was as devastating as it was deadpan. “You mistook me for a male model, tried to grope my abs, and demanded that I spend the night with you.” [LOL! Only the heroine would dare mistake her husband for a male model and then grope him in public!] [She even promised him a tip if he “performed” well! How much is Mr. White worth, anyway?] I froze mid-sip and immediately spat out the porridge in shock. My aim, unfortunately, was spot-on—all of it landed squarely on Nathan’s pristine shirt. Before I could fully process the colossal stupidity of my actions, I was hit with the mortifying sight of him slowly looking down at the mess I’d made. “You just threw up on me again,” he said flatly, his tone a mix of irritation and resignation. Without another word, he stood up and walked off to change, leaving me alone with my panic and a growing sense of doom. Still in a daze, I frantically grabbed my phone and called Kelly. “Wow, you’re up early,” she teased, her voice lazy and amused. “I guess Nathan didn’t punish you too badly last night, huh?” “What does Nathan have to do with anything?” I stammered, my voice trembling with anxiety. Kelly burst into laughter. “What do you mean? He came to pick you up from the bar last night! You were yelling about wanting to see his abs and insisting that he stay with you all night. Honestly, I didn’t know you had it in you to harass your own husband in public!” My heart sank as her words confirmed my worst fears. “Oh, and,” she added mischievously, “you were basically clinging to him like a koala. It was hilarious! Did he finally confess his undying love when he carried you home?” Kelly’s laughter echoed in my ears, but I couldn’t focus. All I could think about was the fact that Nathan had caught me red-handed. Calling over male models, getting drunk, and then mistaking him for one? It didn’t matter that nothing had actually happened—morally, I was already in the wrong. This was bad. Really bad. Fine. If I was already guilty in his eyes, I might as well use this as an opportunity. My goal was divorce, after all. Taking a deep breath, I marched to Nathan’s room and knocked on the door. When he opened it, I kept my gaze fixed firmly on the floor. “We need to get divorced,” I said, my voice trembling but resolute.
“What did you just say?” Nathan White’s cold voice echoed above me, sharp and unforgiving. “You heard me,” I retorted, forcing myself to sound calm. “I called over a male model last night. Who knows? Maybe I’ll actually cheat one of these days.” I took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage I had. “If we divorce now, at least we’ll save our reputations.” I looked up at Nathan, meeting his intense gaze. Fresh from his shower, he stood in front of me in a loose robe, the fabric barely clinging to his shoulders. The open collar revealed his toned chest, water droplets trickling down towards the edge of the robe. I couldn’t help but stare. Did he have abs? My mouth went dry as I unconsciously bit my lip, watching the water trail disappear into the folds of his robe. Sure, Nathan had been insufferable growing up, but I couldn’t deny that adulthood had done wonders for his physique. [Heroine, you nearly turned the screen into a mosaic last night with your wandering hands, and now you seriously can’t remember if Mr. White has abs?] [Poor Mr. White! He almost got “used” last night, and yet he didn’t even make it into the heroine’s memory.] [Mr. White’s too restrained. If he’d gone all in, there wouldn’t even be a divorce discussion right now.] The barrage of floating comments made my face burn. My hands turned clammy. Oh God, what exactly had I done last night? Did Nathan think I was using reverse psychology with this divorce talk? “Claire,” he said, his voice lower than usual, “are you divorcing me because of some male model?” His tone was flat, but the intensity in his eyes made my heart race. “What does that even mean?” I shot back, trying to regain control of the situation. “We’ve never been in love. This marriage was just a business deal. What, are we supposed to stay tied to each other forever?” Nathan and I had been fighting since we were kids, and that dynamic hadn’t changed. Sure, I was technically in the wrong about the male model thing, but that didn’t mean I’d back down. If anything, the comments floating in the air suggested I’d done something truly embarrassing. So what? Let Nathan think I was the villain here—the cold-hearted wife who used him and tossed him aside. After all, $5 million was calling my name. I couldn’t afford to get distracted by whatever nonsense this so-called “system” was throwing at me. Nathan didn’t love me, no matter what the comments claimed. They were just trying to mess with my head. Nathan stared at me for a long moment, his jaw tightening. Finally, he turned his face away, his voice rough. “Are you sure you want a divorce?” I opened my mouth to respond, but the floating comments exploded in front of me: [Heroine, don’t be so cruel! Please!] [I’m sobbing. Mr. White loves you so much. Don’t leave him!] [Forget $5 million—if you stay, he’d give you $1 billion and his life if he had to!] [Mr. White’s on the verge of tears. Stop breaking his heart, heroine!] Wait, $1 billion? Sure, I knew the White family was richer than mine, but I didn’t know it was that much. Not that it mattered. Nathan wasn’t going to hand over a fortune just because I stayed married to him. I glanced at his profile. His expression was unreadable, but… were his eyes a little red? No. That couldn’t be right. Nathan and I had always been at each other’s throats. When we were younger, he always managed to rile me up until I cried. After we got married, things had cooled into a sort of distant politeness. We didn’t fight anymore, but we didn’t joke around either. So why did he look so… fragile now? Impulsively, I reached out and turned his face to look at me. The moment my fingers brushed his skin, I felt him stiffen. His cheeks turned an unmistakable shade of red. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice unsteady. His eyes darted away, refusing to meet mine. I cupped his face, forcing him to look at me. “Did you know Ivy’s back?” “What does that have to do with anything?” “She’s your first love. If we get divorced, you can pick things up where you left off.” The words had barely left my mouth when Nathan grabbed my wrists and pulled my hands away from his face. “Who said I want to get back together with her?” he snapped, glaring at me. “Claire, is your brain full of garbage?” There it was—that familiar, infuriating tone. My hackles immediately rose. “Oh, so now you’re insulting me?” I shot back. “Well, news flash, Nathan White: my brain is full of you!” The words flew out before I could stop them. We both froze. Nathan stared at me, stunned, while I stood there, mortified. What the hell was wrong with me? Every time we argued, I somehow managed to fall into the traps he set. It was like he had a sixth sense for making me say the dumbest possible things. Before I could recover, a glint of amusement appeared in his eyes. He leaned in close, his voice low and teasing. “If I’m all you can think about,” he murmured, “then stop asking for a divorce.” I stared at him, completely thrown off balance. How had this conversation gone so off the rails? Wasn’t I supposed to be the one pushing for divorce? The floating comments weren’t helping. [OMG, Nathan’s killing it! That comeback was perfect!] [I’m swooning. This is peak romance.] [Keep going, Nathan! You’re finally getting through to her!] I swallowed hard as Nathan’s face hovered dangerously close to mine. No. I couldn’t let this happen. “If we’re not getting divorced,” I said, forcing myself to sound calm, “then we’ll have to open the marriage.” Nathan’s expression darkened immediately. “Open the marriage?” “Yeah,” I said, my voice gaining strength. “You can go be with Ivy, and I’ll find myself a male model. Win-win, right?”
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