I was the perfect corporate wife in our elite circles. When Blake Sterling got a model pregnant, I stepped in to make it all disappear. When Blake was caught sneaking into hotels with an A-list actress, I greased palms and made scandalous photos and videos vanish. Everyone in our elite circles said Blake Sterling had the perfect wife. Their knowing smiles were laced with ridicule, but I didn’t give a damn. After cleaning up his final mess, I simply vanished. Since then, Blake Sterling has been trying to find me, even across the ocean. Blake Sterling’s latest arm candy was a fresh face, Skylar Vance. Naturally, Blake was the lead investor in her debut film. Among Blake’s endless string of conquests, Skylar was the youngest, and by far, the boldest. She flooded my inbox with provocative photos, each one a blatant taunt. “Mrs. Sterling, everyone says you’re so magnanimous. Can you tell me if these photos are flattering?” I closed my email without replying, until Blake’s call came through. “How did those photos get out? Aria Hayes, are you done with your act?” His cutting tone sliced through the phone, and my heart ached for a few seconds before settling back into stillness. “I don’t know.” I spoke flatly. The next second, he hung up. My phone buzzed relentlessly with notifications from all my social media apps. #SterlingCEOCaughtInAnotherPhotoScandal The headlines screamed, the photos pixelated, but it wasn’t hard to tell they were identical to the ones Skylar had sent me. She was young, and her tactics were just as amateur. Editors from major media outlets flooded my SnapChat with messages. “Mrs. Sterling, seven figures should do it this time.” “Mrs. Sterling, we still have time for damage control.” I replied, “Not interested,” to each of them. The offers stopped coming. But then, screenshots of my replies to the editors exploded online. “Guess she’s finally given up.” “No kidding. Who could keep cleaning up their husband’s messes, time and again?” “How long until they divorce, do you think?” I took a deep breath, gazing at the empty mansion around me, a chilling emptiness settling in my chest. Blake Sterling, consider this my divorce gift to you. Soon enough, the scandalous photos evaporated as quickly as they’d appeared. The ‘screenshots’ of my replies were debunked as AI-generated fakes, and major media outlets started dumping dirt on other celebrities to divert attention.
The scandal was suppressed, and Blake sent me a SnapChat message. “Aria Hayes, you never cease to amaze me. You can put up with anything, can’t you? You’d do anything for money.” “How much do you want this time? What expensive meds does your father’s pathetic life need this time?” I replied flatly, “Nothing.” Silence stretched on his end for a long time before I put down my phone. Blake didn’t know that my father had passed away yesterday. While he and Skylar were enjoying a lavish spa day, my father had succumbed to acute kidney failure. I’d called him countless times, only to hear the answering machine. After crying for ten hours in the hospital room, Skylar’s message popped up. I got up, wiped my tears, and began to arrange my father’s funeral. Once everything was settled, I returned to the mansion Blake and I shared. It was only when those photos went viral that Blake finally called me. His first words were cutting accusations. But, it didn’t matter anymore. My most important task now was to divorce Blake. Our marriage had been nothing more than a business arrangement between the Hayes and Sterling families. A financial blunder by my father led to our company’s bankruptcy, and he’d collapsed from the shock. When Mr. Sterling Sr. was still alive, Blake treated me reasonably well. We weren’t madly in love, but we were respectful, almost like polite strangers. In those quiet days, my feelings for Blake grew. His transformation began after his grandfather’s death. That night, the rain poured down. Blake was in our master bedroom, getting intimate with a strange woman. I went wild, tearing at the woman, but Blake shielded her. It was also the first time he’d ever threatened me. “Aria Hayes, your father’s medical bills still depend on me.” Helplessness washed over me. That night, the strange woman stayed. After that, Blake began to indulge himself without restraint. I started cleaning up all sorts of scandals for him. In Blake’s eyes, I was just a woman pretending to be a virtuous wife for money. “Aria Hayes, you have no idea what my life was like before. Now, with no one to control me, it’s just so… comfortable.” Blake’s eyes were hazy as he said it. I just stared at him blankly.
Blake had indeed been tightly controlled before, even watching his grandfather’s every expression before speaking. A rustle of footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. Blake walked towards me, tugging at his tie, his expensive cologne heavy in the air. “Aria Hayes, not asking for money again? What new trick have you learned this time?” I looked at him, confused. “Don’t pretend. Skylar told me she saw you signing up for those ‘Win Back Your Husband’ workshops. What did you learn there?” “Suddenly not wanting money, what’s this move called? Playing hard to get?” Blake’s laugh was mocking. He sat next to me, pulling me into his embrace. I could hear his heartbeat clearly against my chest. “Aria Hayes, I’m giving you a chance. Start your performance.” He laughed again as he said it. I looked up at him. He was leaning back on the couch. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this close to Blake. I raised my hand and touched his chest, feeling a tremor. “Aria Hayes, is that all you’ve got?” With that, Blake roughly pushed me away. His gaze was filled with utter contempt, as if I were something vile, a piece of trash. “Blake Sterling, let’s get a divorce.” I spoke calmly. Blake, who had been standing, froze. This was the second time I’d mentioned divorce to him. The first was the night I caught him cheating. My father had left me a substantial inheritance, and no one else knew about it. But Blake had refused to divorce, saying he wouldn’t let me have half his assets. He also didn’t believe I’d ever be willing to leave him. “Oh, really? When?” Blake smirked carelessly, pulling off his tie and throwing it at my face. A surge of surprise went through me; I hadn’t expected him to agree so easily. But then he suddenly pinched my chin. His handsome eyes scrutinized my face. After a long moment, he spoke flippantly. “Aria Hayes, you’re a terrible student. Find a different workshop.”
After saying that, Blake went back to the bedroom. I was left alone in the living room, the closed bedroom door a barrier between Blake and me. Thinking back to our days of polite respect, it felt like yesterday. Blake had changed so fast. Suddenly, Maria led a few men in. I knew them all—Blake’s closest friends. They didn’t greet me with the same deference as before, merely glancing at me briefly. Blake emerged from the master bedroom quickly, having changed into loungewear. The last one to enter the study turned back, his eyes full of pity, and looked at me. The study door was ajar, and muffled conversations drifted out. “Not many people for a proposal here, security’s good.” “Use all roses, girls always love custom diamond rings.” “Blake, are you sure about this? Your wife, she…” “I can’t give Skylar a proper title, but I can give her a grand gesture to compensate. Just don’t let this get out.” Blake’s voice cut off the conversation. So, he was going to propose to Skylar Vance. I turned and walked away from the study door. Blake had been back for so long, yet he hadn’t noticed my packed luggage. Hearing the sound of him seeing his friends out downstairs, I stepped out of the master bedroom. Looking down, I saw Blake humming a cheerful tune. Soon, dusk fell, and Blake changed into a tailored suit before heading out. I didn’t follow him, busy instead arranging my emigration. All these years, I’d been using my own money to clean up his dirty laundry. Blake automatically assumed I was using the supplementary card he’d given me, making him believe he controlled my finances. Looking at the decent balance in my bank account, I felt a calming sense of security. After confirming the house, the agent sent me the contract. Before I could even look at it, a message from Skylar Vance popped up. It was a ten-minute video. Blake’s declaration of love lasted six minutes, his gaze on Skylar full of adoration. I had to admit, out of all his women over the years, Skylar was truly the most favored.
“Pretty, isn’t it, Mrs. Sterling?” “I heard your wedding was just at a five-star hotel, no proposal, very rushed and perfunctory. Blake never gave you such a grand proposal, did he?” “Blake’s friends all say I’m the only girl he’s ever truly cared about.” Skylar’s voice message sounded utterly smug. She thought her words would drive me crazy. But my heart was eerily calm. For Blake Sterling, I figured there was only a sliver of love left. “Congratulations.” I simply replied with those four words. Her end went silent. The summer wind rustled the leaves, a dry, whispering sound. I slipped off my wedding ring and placed it on the dresser. That night, I dreamt of my father. When I woke up, my pillow was soaked with tears. One hundred and ten missed calls blared on my screen. Before I could even check them, Blake’s call came in again. The moment I answered, his barely concealed rage erupted. “Aria Hayes, I truly underestimated you. All these years, you’ve played the innocent, virtuous wife, but behind my back, you’re more devious than anyone!” “What?” I instinctively retorted. He hung up, and then I received a screenshot from Blake. That proposal video had already soared to the top of every major media platform’s trending topics. Editors from various media outlets had already sent me their prices. While I was asleep, Sterling Enterprises’ stock had plummeted because of the video. People were already speculating how much Blake would have to pay out in a divorce settlement. I looked at the screen full of notifications and felt utterly drained. Just then, the bedroom door burst open. Blake stood there, eyes bloodshot, gripping my collar. His eyes blazed with fury. If looks could kill, I would have died a thousand times over.
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