She had always been like this—patient, forgiving, loving.
Every “first” in my life, she was the first to know.
When I first got together with Jericho, she had warned me.
“I just don’t think he loves you that much, Venice. I’m your mom, sweetheart. I want your husband to love you more than you love him, not the other way around.”
That worried look on her face—it’s still burned into my memory.
Back then, I was stubborn. I argued with her without hesitation, blindly diving into my so-called love with Jericho.
Now, I’ve finally paid the price.
No, she paid the price I was supposed to pay.
When the bell outside tolled, I collapsed over my mom’s body, sobbing bitterly.
Three days later, Jericho’s bodyguards finally released me.
I was burning with fever, and after several IV drips, I struggled to lift myself.
But I couldn’t afford to collapse. Not yet. I still had to take care of my mom’s funeral.
Once everything was settled, I returned to the villa.
During the time I was locked in the morgue, Verona’s wounds had already healed.
Jericho had taken her on yacht trips, bought her a private island, and even named it after her.
He’d also gifted her a villa of her own.
I saw it all on Instagram.
Once, that might have crushed me and left me gasping for air.
But now, my heart was numb.
My mom’s death had taken with it every bit of love I ever had for Jericho.
All I wanted now was to divorce him, sell every Fowler Corporation share in my hands, and leave him with absolutely nothing!
After gathering my documents, I headed straight to the county clerk’s office with the prenuptial agreement Jericho had signed before.
According to the paper, I didn’t need his permission for the divorce—as long as the contract was valid.
I handed all the paperwork to the clerk.
A moment later, they looked up at me in surprise.
“Ma’am, according to our system, you’re already listed as divorced. And the man tied to your submitted ID… He’s… currently married.”
My eyes widened at that news.
“What? Who’s his spouse?”
The clerk hesitated, a trace of pity crossing her face.
“Ma’am, about a month ago, this gentleman ended his marriage with you and remarried—his new wife, one with the last name MacGill.”
6
Venice’s POV
I froze where I stood, unable to believe what I’d just heard.
Had my seven-year marriage to Jericho officially ended a month ago?
And on that very same day, he’d married Verona?