The Christmas Eve before, Julian wasn’t busy stuffing gifts into our kids’ stockings. No, he was too preoccupied, lavishing cash on a dancer’s sheer stockings. He’d turned to me, offering a hollow comfort: “Serena was making her stage debut, and it was all just a publicity stunt, she needed the buzz. I was just playing along.” Everyone laughed at me, but I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t scream, I didn’t shout. They had no idea. I had made a pact with Death himself. For every time Julian cheated, a year of his life would transfer to me. By my count, Julian, who was supposed to live to eighty, had barely a year left. Just get through New Year’s Eve, and he’d breathe his last. And I? I’d take our three children and inherit the Sterling family’s multi-billion dollar fortune. Soon enough, news of billionaire Julian Sterling stuffing two hundred thousand dollars into a dancer named Serena’s stockings exploded on social media. I put down my phone, my heart oddly calm, and took a sip of the black tea on the table. The doorbell chimed. Mr. and Mrs. Sterling stormed in, their faces alight with fury. Mr. Sterling’s face was beet red with fury, and he let out a heavy sigh. “Eleanor, Julian is an absolute bastard! I’ll send a yacht your way, go clear your head if you feel uncomfortable.” Mrs. Sterling gently patted my shoulder. “Eleanor, don’t you worry. I won’t let those… bitches… darken our doorstep!” I replied calmly: “Thank you, Mom and Dad. I understand.” Why would I make a fuss? After all, this was already Julian’s forty-third mistress. Seven more days. Then, everything would be over. The next day, the Director of Public Relations for Sterling Corp personally visited. “Mrs. Sterling, this is the draft statement. We need you to go out and clear Mr. Sterling’s name regarding the scandal.” “No problem!” I agreed readily. I looked at Serena’s photo. She was indeed different from the previous kept women. She was a ballet dancer, bore a striking resemblance to Julian’s deceased first love, and had a very pure look about her. After I issued the statement, my friends found it unbelievable. “You’re truly so forgiving. If my husband ever pulled a stunt like that, I’d break his legs!” The thinly veiled jabs? I was sick of them. I closed the group chat and went into my study. At the bottom of the drawer, hidden beneath some papers, was a small, leather-bound notebook. Julian’s first infidelity was ten years ago. “Chloe, 23, unknown actress. Dated three months, Julian bought her an apartment.” “Vivian, 25, influencer. Dated four months, Julian helped her open a clothing boutique.” “Serena, 24, ballet dancer.” What she would ultimately gain, I didn’t yet know. But I had a creeping suspicion that her intentions were far from simple. I closed the ledger. Outside, fine snow began to fall. The Christmas tree in the garden sparkled with colorful lights. My three children were building a snowman, their laughter drifting through the glass. Forty-three times. That meant forty-three years of his life gone. Julian was supposed to live to eighty. Now, he had only seven days left. The thought brought a profound sense of liberation. My phone buzzed. It was Julian. “Not coming home for dinner tonight.” I didn’t reply. He didn’t press the issue. It was our unspoken understanding, built over years. “Eleanor, you’re so understanding. I’m just having a bit of fun, blowing off steam. Don’t worry, you’re the only Mrs. Sterling.” I let out a cold laugh and called the children inside for dinner. Christmas bells chimed faintly in the distance. Seven more days. On New Year’s Eve, seven days from now, fireworks would bloom across the entire sky. And my ledger, finally, would turn to its very last page.
The next day, Julian didn’t come home alone. His hand was intertwined with Serena’s. “Eleanor, we need to talk.” I looked up at him, a flicker of unease stirring within me. He never brought women home, and certainly never introduced them to me. “Serena’s grandfather is gravely ill, and his only wish is to see her married.” I raised an eyebrow slightly. “So?” Julian hesitated, then finally spoke. “So… we need to get a divorce.” The air instantly froze. Divorce? I had endured for ten years, just when I was about to reap the rewards, at the eleventh hour, he wanted to kick me out? Seeing my prolonged silence, a hint of discomfort flashed in Julian’s eyes. “Just for a month. Once her grandfather passes peacefully, we’ll remarry immediately.” Serena, ever so timely, shed a tear. “Eleanor, please.” I didn’t move, my mind racing. If I wasn’t Mrs. Sterling when Julian died, how much money would I lose out on? The thought of Serena fighting my three children for the inheritance sent a pang through my heart. No, I couldn’t let that happen. For Eleanor, for my children, for myself, I had to keep my title as Mrs. Sterling. I looked Julian directly in the eye. “New Year’s is almost here. The family will have a gathering. Let’s not make a spectacle for everyone. Let’s wait until after the holidays. Then you two can put on whatever show you like.” “No!” Serena shrieked, tears instantly welling up. “I’m afraid Grandpa won’t make it!” She actually knelt down, her fingers clutching at my pants, her eyes brimming with tears. “Please, Eleanor, Grandpa is the only family I have left…” “If Grandpa doesn’t see me married, he won’t rest in peace. I… I won’t want to live either…” Julian’s eyes were full of anguish, and he looked at me with frustration. “Eleanor, just do me this favor. It’s not too much to ask of a young woman.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Julian, I’ve been doing you favors for ten years.” “You found forty-three kept women. I never once lost my temper with you, nor did I ever badmouth you outside the house.” “This home, your parents, our three children – I’ve taken care of everything perfectly.” “And now, you want me to give up my position as Mrs. Sterling…” Julian quickly interjected, a hint of desperation in his voice. “Just for a month!” “No!” I stood up, my stance more assertive than ever before. “This is what you promised me. You have to keep your word!” Julian remembered his promise, and he looked torn. Serena covered her face and sobbed. “Forget it, forget it. I’ll just go with Grandpa…” She tried to get up, but then, feigning weakness, collapsed back to the floor, trembling all over. Julian’s heart ached for her. He scooped Serena into his arms. He looked at me, his eyes turning cold. “Eleanor, I’m not asking for your opinion.” “Before, you listened to me. It’s the same now.” I scoffed, a plan already forming in my mind. Even if he forced a divorce through court, it would take at least two months. I just wouldn’t sign. Six days later, on New Year’s Eve, everything would be over. Seeing that I was about to leave, Julian grabbed my wrist. “Where are you going?” I gave him a cold glance. “I don’t want to see you two. I’m leaving.” Julian sneered, giving me a knowing, condescending smirk. “You think running away will stop the divorce? You’re going to my parents to spill the beans, aren’t you?” He dragged me towards the door. “We’re going to the courthouse right now. We’re getting this done today.”
On the way to the courthouse, Julian held my hand tightly, as if afraid I’d jump out of the car. “Eleanor, just one month, I promise.” I didn’t speak, simply pulling my hand gently from his grasp. Julian forcibly took my hand again. “Serena and I won’t go public, we won’t have a wedding. No one outside will know. You’ll still be Mrs. Sterling.” I silently strategized how to blow this whole thing up. If it became a huge scandal, could he still force me? I slipped my hand into my pocket and discreetly sent a message. In my contacts, there was a name: “Mr. Thompson, Reporter.” Three years ago, he’d exposed a scandal involving Julian and almost faced retaliation from the Sterling family, but I’d managed to smooth things over. He harbored a lot of resentment towards Julian and owed me a favor. Finally, we arrived at the courthouse. Just as we were about to get out of the car, several reporters swarmed us. “Mr. Sterling, are you here at the courthouse to file for divorce?” “Mrs. Sterling, what do you have to say about your husband’s infidelity? You’ve tolerated it for so long, why the sudden breakdown now?” Julian froze, clearly not expecting to be exposed. For a moment, he didn’t know how to react. I took his arm, offering a dignified smile. “You’ve misunderstood. We’re not here to get divorced.” “Today is our tenth wedding anniversary. We’re just here to revisit old memories…” Julian’s arm stiffened abruptly. After a few seconds, he finally caught on, managing a faint, composed smile. “That’s right.” The reporters were stunned but continued their questioning. “Then Miss Serena…” “Serena is a new artist signed to Julian’s company,” I said, my smile strained. “The official announcement… is just to build buzz for her new show. Right, Julian?” Julian gritted his teeth and nodded. “Right.” I took the opportunity to pull him back into the car, intending to leave. Just then, a shriek pierced the air. “Ah! Someone’s going to jump!” Across from the courthouse, on the rooftop of an office building, stood a figure in white. The wind was strong, making her sway precariously. It was Serena. My heart sank. Damn it, this wasn’t going to be easy now. Sure enough, Julian couldn’t help but shout. “Serena, don’t do anything foolish!” Serena looked down at Julian, tears streaming down her face, her voice choked with sobs. “Julian, I can’t live without you…” Julian frantically ran his hands through his hair. “Get down! I’ll divorce! I’ll do it right now!” Julian turned back to me, his eyes desperate. “Eleanor, go inside. Get the divorce done!” The reporters’ cameras instantly swung over, zeroing in on my ashen face. I clenched my fist, my fingernails digging into my palm.
“Is this divorce voluntary?” The clerk behind the counter looked up, her eyes wary. I wanted to say “no.” Julian’s fingers dug into the web of my hand, and the pain made me speechless. The clerk asked again. Julian pressed his other hand against the back of my neck, forcing my head down. Once, twice. The clerk stood up, clearly annoyed. “Sir, this is coercion!” Julian sneered. “Fine, you ask her if it’s voluntary.” He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. “Think about your three children, Eleanor. If you don’t sign, tomorrow they won’t be Sterlings anymore.” My whole body stiffened, and I looked up at him in disbelief. “Julian, they’re your children!” “And so what?” His eyes were ice cold. “The Sterlings don’t lack heirs, Eleanor. I can always have more. Can you afford to gamble?” I couldn’t afford to gamble. Ten years of endurance, forty-three betrayals. I had poured my heart and soul into this, enduring countless betrayals. I wasn’t just waiting for Julian’s demise; I was securing a future where our three children would rightfully inherit everything. To protect my children, I could only speak with bitter resignation. “I voluntarily consent to the divorce.” The clerk stared at me for a few seconds, then finally sat down, pushing the forms across. As the last stroke of the pen fell, my wrist trembled. Not from sadness, but from resentment. Julian snatched the divorce certificate and practically sprinted out. Outside, Serena had already come down from the rooftop. She was wrapped in Julian’s coat, her face pale, but her eyes sparkled. Julian rushed over and embraced her. “Serena, I’m free.” He took Serena’s hand and pulled her into a deep hug. They kissed publicly, deeply, passionately. The reporters swarmed them. “Mrs. Sterling… no, Miss Eleanor, how are you feeling now?” “Will you fight for custody?” “Regarding the division of assets…” I didn’t answer. I watched Julian, hand-in-hand with Serena, walk back into the courthouse. This time, it was the marriage registration window. They sat close together, filling out forms, signing, taking photos. When the camera’s flash went off, Serena smiled brilliantly. Serena couldn’t wait to take a photo and posted it on Ins. Caption: “To many more years with you, @Julian Sterling” In one minute, comments soared past ten thousand. I returned to the Sterling mansion. Mr. and Mrs. Sterling had received the news; they were waiting for us at home. Mr. Sterling was so furious he threw his teacup. “That bastard! That absolute bastard!” Mrs. Sterling clutched her chest, her face pale. “Eleanor, don’t you worry, Mom will never acknowledge that gold-digger! Once that old man dies, we’ll make Julian divorce her for sure!” I lowered my head, saying nothing. I couldn’t afford to wait. Five more days. A thought struck me, and a new plan began to form in my mind. I dialed a number, contacting a company called “Aura Tech Corp.” This company specialized in legally extracting memory fragments from the terminally ill, for use in medical, legal, and inheritance disputes. Now, I was going to change my strategy.
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