He surged to his feet, his gaze locking onto mine.

"Over a bracelet? You're doing this over a damn bracelet?"

"You're really going to settle accounts with me like a stranger?"

"In your heart, is our three-year marriage worth less than a piece of jewelry?"

I met his gaze calmly.

"In your heart, am I worth less than a single strand of Sarah Henson's hair?"

"You—!"

He choked on his rage, chest heaving.

After a long, tense moment, the fight seemed to drain out of him. He slumped back onto the sofa, rubbing his brow.

"Jasmine, stop making trouble."

"I know you feel wronged, but Sarah... she told me today she wants to seek treatment for her legs."

"She said she doesn't want to be a burden to me anymore."

"There's a specialist in Decheng, a top authority. I need to take her there."

I listened. My expression didn't change.

"So?"

"So, the company needs working capital right now. Can we put the shares issue aside?"

He looked up at me, his eyes taking on that familiar, pleading quality that used to melt my heart.

"Once the IPO is successful, I'll give you half the shares. Okay?"

I looked at him and laughed.

It must have been an ugly sound.

"Simon Henson, do you really think I'm that easy to fool?"

"Jasmine? You think I'm lying to you?"

"I thought you understood me better than anyone! When did you become like this?"

"Petty! Unreasonable!"

Watching him fluster and rage, I felt nothing but cold amusement.

"What have I become?"

"I just refuse to be the fool you manipulate anymore."

"Simon, return the shares, or we divorce. Simple as that."

"Impossible!" He cut me off. "The company is at a critical stage. I won't let you destroy it!"

"Then I'll see you in court."

I turned to leave.

"Jasmine!"

He caught my wrist. His grip was bruising.

"Does it have to end like this?"

"We have years of history. Can you really just throw it all away on a whim?"

I ripped my hand from his grasp.

"You were the one who threw it away first."

"From the moment you sacrificed me over and over for Sarah, we were finished."

He stood frozen, clearly stunned by the finality in my voice.

I didn't look back. I walked into the bedroom and locked the door.

My heart hammered against my ribs—not from excitement, but from a hollow, devastating ache.

I pulled out my phone and dialed.

The call connected instantly. A steady, professional male voice answered.

"Hello, Ms. Delgado."

My private investigator.

"Is it ready?"