My Husband's Betrayal on Our Tenth AnniversaryChapter 1

Killian Barnes broke his promise on our tenth wedding anniversary, choosing to leave me behind for a business trip with his female assistant. When he returned, he handed me a collectible pink diamond necklace, calling it a gesture of apology.

For a moment, I thought he truly loved me. But when I turned around, I saw her—his assistant—adorned in a dazzling set of emerald jewelry, far more exquisite and valuable than my own.

I played my part, pretending to be the gracious and understanding Mrs. Barnes. On the surface, I smiled, but inside, a storm brewed. As their brazenness grew, so did my pain. They thought I was asleep in the bedroom, but I overheard everything—their whispered words, their laughter, their betrayal—just a wall away in the study.

Afterward, Killian tried to smooth things over again, gifting me an entire set of pink haute couture dresses. That’s when it struck me—every pink gift he gave was a veil of betrayal, a mask for his deceit. And my cloakroom was filled with them—a silent testament to every time he had lied to me.

But I had my own plan. I gave him a gift in return, telling him to open it in half a month. He smiled, thinking I was planning some grand surprise for him. He didn’t realize it was the last thing I’d ever give him.

When that day came, I was already gone. The note I left was simple, but my absence spoke louder than words. No one would ever find me again.

-

"Congratulations, Miss Ward. You’ve successfully obtained permanent residence in Canada. Would you like to retain your citizenship in your home country?" the staff member asked, their tone polite but inquisitive.

I shook my head, resolute. "Cancel my account."

The staff hesitated, clearly taken aback. "If you cancel, your personal information will be completely erased. No past records, no trace—you’ll disappear entirely."

I smiled faintly. "That’s precisely the point."

"Understood, Miss Ward. I’ll process the account cancellation. The procedure will take fifteen days. Please keep track of the timeline."

As I stepped out of the service hall, the weight of the decision lifted from my shoulders. A one-way ticket to Canada was already in my bag. Freedom awaited.

In the mall outside, a massive screen blared the kind of news that stops people in their tracks.