Julian Blackwood’s mistress set him a monthly KPI: at least 10 sexual encounters. This month, he was too busy and only managed 9. His mistress responded by going on a one-day hunger strike. To appease her, Julian actually begged me to comfort Tiffany: “Aria, please go explain to Tiffany. Tell her I haven’t touched you all year. Don’t let her be jealous or upset.” My eyes widened. Julian and I hadn’t been intimate in three years, but his request was beyond ridiculous. I agreed to help him, but scoffed, “You should really see a doctor. If you can’t even manage 10 times a month, what kind of mistress would want you?!” I called Tiffany’s phone, my voice calm: “Julian has belonged to you for a long time, and he’ll only belong to you from now on.” After I hung up, Julian tried to soothe me: “You’re always in my heart too, Aria.” But I didn’t care anymore. We’d been separated for almost two years and would soon finalize our divorce. However, Tiffany wasn’t pleased by my explanation. She didn’t believe Julian hadn’t been with me! So, Julian came back to me, looking dejected, asking for help again. I asked him directly: “Julian, what exactly do you want me to do?” “How about you go to the hospital for a vaginal exam? The doctor can prove you haven’t been intimate in a long time. Don’t worry, I’ll arrange for a female doctor.” He paused, then continued, “Tiffany’s got a one-track mind; she won’t believe it unless you do this. Just bear with her.” A wave of nausea churned in my stomach, and I recoiled instinctively, putting as much distance between us as possible. Even though I’d long since given up on him, hearing him make such a request for his mistress still sent a chill through me. He completely disregarded my feelings, pressing on: “Just think of it as a regular check-up.” The disgust in my chest intensified. I clutched my chest and sneered at him, “Julian, let’s just get divorced already!” I exploded at him. Knowing he was in the wrong, he didn’t push it further, his tone softening as he tried to placate me: “Don’t be angry! You’re always the most important person to me. Just calm down for a bit.” He always said that. He’d say I was the most important, then climb into his mistress’s bed again and again. He just presumed his money and power meant I’d put up with anything! After all, I’d fought my way through a lineup of his admirers to become Mrs. Blackwood. What Cinderella, once she’s in the castle, would ever want to leave? He didn’t know that this Cinderella had already saved enough to be financially independent. Julian’s phone rang again. He answered it. I heard Tiffany crying hysterically: “Julian! I became your mistress at 18. You promised me you’d be with me 10 times a month and never touch your wife! You’re a liar! I’m breaking up with you!” Tiffany Reed was the most spoiled and demanding of all the mistresses he’d ever kept. But Julian doted on her the most. Even a year ago, when his mother passed away unexpectedly, Julian left the funeral early on the very day to be with Tiffany. He left me to manage the funeral alone. In the middle of the night, during the funeral, Tiffany sent me taunting photos. They were all of her and Julian in various explicit poses in bed. From that day on, I knew Julian wasn’t just having a physical affair; he was truly in love! He loved her so much that he was willing to trample all over my dignity.
“Tiffany! You won’t believe anything I say, fine! Tomorrow, I’ll have a doctor examine her! Then you’ll believe me!” Julian’s voice on the phone snapped me back to reality. I never imagined that after my clear refusal, he would actually agree to such a thing just to placate Tiffany! The next morning, Tiffany arrived with a male doctor. Julian was stunned. He told her, “No male doctors, it has to be a female doctor!” His face hardened, a flicker of jealousy in his eyes. He might be cheating himself, but he still kept a tight leash on me. If I spoke to another man for more than two sentences, he’d go ballistic with jealousy. Tiffany scowled: “What’s the difference between a male and female doctor? It’s just a quick check-up anyway!” Julian coaxed her, “Let’s just get a female doctor instead.” Tiffany reluctantly agreed. I walked silently to Tiffany, then slapped her across the face. “Who the hell do you think you are?! You’re just a mistress! What right do you have to interfere with my and Julian’s bedroom affairs!” Just to spite her, I even deliberately added: “The only reason Julian didn’t hit your monthly KPI is because he spent 17 nights with me this month, and he was too exhausted!” Seventeen times! That colossal number was like a bombshell to Tiffany. She instantly broke down, tears streaming down her face, and screamed at Julian: “You still won’t admit it! She just admitted it!” Julian was furious with me. He scolded, “What are you talking about?! Aren’t things messy enough already?!” Tiffany, clutching her stinging face, ran off in a rage. Julian immediately chased after her to explain. The ironic thing was that as he ran after Tiffany, he ordered his butler: “Give Mrs. Blackwood her medication!” Ever since his affair started, I’d developed panic attacks, unable to be touched by him. The moment he touched me, I’d feel sick and suffocated. Twice, I even had to be rushed to the emergency room. For years, he’d spent a fortune on various medications to “cure” me. He’d often reassure me, “I’ll make you better. Once you’re well, we’ll have a child.” What he didn’t know was that I’d poured all those medicines down the drain. I hadn’t taken a single dose. I counted down the days, yearning for the day I could leave. On my way to apply for an overseas visa, Julian’s people suddenly intercepted me. I was confined to the mansion, then forced onto a cold, hard examination table. Five female doctors roughly restrained my arms and legs. As I struggled frantically, one of the female doctors’ video calls rang. The next second, Tiffany’s voice came through. “Make sure you examine her thoroughly! Miss Reed, we’re professionals in this field.” I roared with uncontrollable rage, “Tiffany, I’ll kill you!” “Julian, I’ll make you pay for this!” I knew he had to be with Tiffany. Sure enough, his voice came through the phone: “Aria, Tiffany’s pregnant. I’m 35, don’t make things difficult for me, okay?” His meaning was clear: he wanted me to cooperate with the examination. He had wanted to be a father since he was 25. We once had a child too, but Julian had fertility issues, making it difficult for me to conceive. He took a lot of medication and underwent treatment for several years before I finally got pregnant. That time of nurturing a new life was the happiest period Julian and I ever shared. But just as I was nine months pregnant and about to give birth, Julian fell for Tiffany at first sight. Tiffany was young, beautiful, and vibrant. He completely fell for her after just one motorcycle ride. That day, Tiffany posted a photo of the two of them on a motorcycle online. It caused a stir, with countless netizens praising them as a perfect, made-for-each-other couple. I stumbled upon the video three days later. The shock triggered a difficult labor, and I lost our child. The loss of our child didn’t make Julian change his ways. He cried and promised me, “It was just an accident, we’ll have another child.” Julian didn’t know that from that moment on, I had completely given up on him.
Now he had another child, and he’d undoubtedly do everything to keep it! He knew that child loss was my deepest wound, yet here he was, asking me to endure such humiliation for him and Tiffany’s baby. I screamed at him, enraged: “Julian, you heartless monster! If you dare let them touch me today, I’ll hate you for the rest of my life!” Tiffany impatiently mumbled, “Hurry up and finish the exam!” Julian also lost patience and directly ordered the female doctors: “Give Mrs. Blackwood a light anesthetic injection.” He paused, then tried to calm me, “It’ll only be for a moment, it won’t harm you.” I continued to struggle desperately, watching as the female doctors approached with long, thin examination tools, preparing to remove my clothes. A wave of terror washed over me. Another female doctor injected a thin, long anesthetic needle into my arm. I couldn’t struggle anymore and quickly fell unconscious. Sometime later, I vaguely heard that Tiffany’s call was still connected. The female doctor was still examining me. Her phone was placed near my ear, broadcasting muffled sounds. Julian’s voice was controlled and strained: “You’re pregnant, you can’t be intimate. After the baby is born, I’ll make it up to you.” “No, I won’t let you be deprived. Just be gentle, even if I’m pregnant, 10 times a month can’t be skipped.” Her coquettish voice made me intensely uncomfortable. Suddenly, she deliberately asked, “You always say you love me, so why haven’t you divorced your wife yet?!” I also really wanted to know the answer to that, and I couldn’t help but strain my ears. Julian’s voice remained unchanged: “Are you stupid? Divorce means splitting half my assets. I haven’t touched her in years, it’s practically the same as being divorced. Remember, I’m a businessman, everything I do requires weighing pros and cons.” He really knew how to manipulate young, naive women. He claimed he couldn’t afford to divorce me because of the money, but in reality, all the money he earned had been transferred to my personal account. It was even legally notarized as solely my property. I had previously, out of spite for his affair, deliberately leaked confidential business secrets of Blackwood Corp to his competitors. This caused Blackwood Corp to suffer losses in the hundreds of millions, pushing the company to the brink of bankruptcy. Even after I pushed him so hard for a divorce, he refused. He didn’t even scold me, instead trying to calm me down. I finally saw through him completely. He genuinely loved me, and he genuinely loved Tiffany. He didn’t want to lose either of us. He was greedy; he wanted one woman at home and another outside. The doctor finished the examination, took the phone from my ear, and reported: “Miss Reed, we’ve completed the examination. Mrs. Blackwood has not only not been intimate recently, but she hasn’t had any intimate activity for at least a year.” Tiffany, having received the satisfactory answer, sounded a few shades lighter: “Thank you for your hard work, here’s your payment.” They packed up their things and left. As the anesthetic wore off, a dense, throbbing pain spread below. The air was thick with the smell of blood. I tried to shift my body, and a violent surge of agony struck me. Below, and on my backside, there was sticky blood everywhere. This wasn’t any scientific examination; it was torture. An overwhelming hatred engulfed me, and within minutes, I was covered in a cold sweat from the pain. In that moment, an earth-shattering idea flashed through my mind! After several hours of pain, I finally managed to stand. Dragging my broken body, I set fire to “Cinderella’s Castle,” the mansion Julian had spent a billion dollars to buy for me.
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