Chapter 1 Divorce? Over My Dead Body

• “Let’s get divorced.” Arielle Grace stared at the handsome and flawless man who had women going crazy over him sitting across from her, her heart heavy and bleak. Ziven Meyer, the most desirable man in Baylin, is mysterious, noble, and extraordinarily striking. Alas, this man isn’t destined for me. I’ve tried everything possible throughout these three years of our marriage, yet never have I gotten his love in return. Now, I’m tired, so I’m conceding defeat. “Let’s get divorced. I’ll set you free, and we’ll no longer have anything to do with each other henceforth.” Stifling the pain, she averted her gaze.
• Ziven’s face was devoid of expression. After a few seconds of silence, he suddenly picked up the pen and signed the divorce papers without hesitation. Then, he stood up and left indifferently, his tall and captivating back making all the women in the coffee shop swoon for a moment.
• He never changes. No matter what I do, it never causes the slightest ripple to him. In this case, I’ll just let him go even though the pain is truly agonizing.
• The moment Arielle left the coffee shop and walked out to the street, her cell phone rang. “Willow.” Answering the call, she bit her lip before murmuring softly, “I did as you advised and had him sign the divorce papers.”
• “He really signed them?” Willow’s voice on the other end of the phone was threaded with a barely concealed hint of delight and excitement.
• Arielle frowned as puzzlement swamped her. “Yeah. Willow, why—”
• “Haha, Arielle Grace, you actually asked Ziven Meyer for a divorce. Haha… You’re such an idiot!”
• Arielle was momentarily rendered speechless. “What do you mean, Willow?” Her frown deepened as a sliver of uneasiness crept into her.
• “Nothing. I’m just ecstatic! I’ll only have a chance to be with Ziven Meyer when you two are divorced. Say, why wouldn’t I be happy?” Willow, who was standing at the top of the opposite building, dissolved into laughter. “Why do you think he has always been so uncaring toward you?”
• “Why?” Clutching her cell phone tightly, Arielle unconsciously stepped out onto the road.
• “Because he has always believed that it was you who killed his brother. Did you think he’d be nice to the woman who killed his brother?”
• “I didn’t!” Arielle blurted frantically. “Felix’s death has nothing to do with me! I-It was you?” Her eyes abruptly widened as understanding dawned upon her. “It was you! Willow Grace, it was you who planned everything!”
• “So what? You want to tell Ziven Meyer that? Unfortunately, it’s too late by now.” Willow’s cackle sounded as though it came from the depths of hell, petrifying to the bone.
• “I’ll get back at you for this! Willow Grace, you’ve been putting on an act and pulling the wool over my eyes!” Vexation gripped Arielle for having realized this too late.
• “I’m afraid you won’t have that opportunity.” Willow’s thin lips curved into a vicious smile as she stared at the petite figure on the road below. “Look to your left.”
• Arielle instinctively swung her head to the left, but the moment she did so, a deafening crash sounded, and pain engulfed her. In a flash, excruciating pain spread all over her. Like a leaf fluttering in the breeze, she fell onto the ground lightly after being hit by a truck.
• The past played in her mind like a reel. I’ve been obsessed with Ziven Meyer for half my life, but I’ve never gotten even an affectionate look in return. If I get a new lease on life, I won’t love him anymore. I’ll never again fall in love with a man who’ll never love… me…
• Arielle’s eyes slowly closed. She didn’t see the Young Master Ziven, who was so handsome that women went crazy over him, rushing out from among the crowd and cradling her bloody body, nor did she see the distinctive sheen of moisture in the eyes of the man with a godlike existence, much less the four words—‘over my dead body’—written in the space where ‘Ziven Meyer’ should have been on the divorce papers that fell out of her bag.
• Her body turned cold, and her last breath left her body…