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Here is the translation into English: "I am Oliver Xingyi's wife, in a marriage of convenience. I heard that he has started dating another girlfriend again. I saw her once, and she looks 90% like his short-lived first love. This time, I'm tired, so I filed for divorce. With the divorce, I can get half of his wealth, and thinking about it no longer makes me sad. That day, Oliver Xingyi was at the bar, looking carefree with his new girlfriend. He caught sight of me sitting on another man's lap, drinking. He went completely mad and smashed the bar. With rage in his eyes, he questioned me, 'Who is he?' 'He is my boyfriend.' 'Ji Anran, then who am I?' 'You are my husband.' Zhou Yanli, standing next to me, laughed and corrected me, 'A husband in the divorce cooling-off period, considered an ex-husband!'"
Chapter 1
I am Harold's wife, a product of a marriage alliance.
Rumor has it, he's found himself another girlfriend.
I saw her once; she bears an uncanny resemblance to his ill-fated first love.
This time, I'm exhausted, so I asked for a divorce.
With the divorce, I could get half of his assets, which makes it easier to bear.
That day, Harold was at a bar, flaunting his new girlfriend.
He caught sight of me at the next booth, sitting on another man's lap, drinking.
He lost his temper, wrecking the bar in a fit of rage.
His eyes were bloodshot as he demanded, "Who is he?"
"He's my boyfriend."
"Elsie, then who am I?"
"You're my husband."
Kevan, who was beside us, chuckled and corrected me, "Husband during the divorce cooling-off period, more like an ex-husband!"
1
Even a marriage of convenience faces challenges over time.
Harold and I were victims of the alliance between the Ward Family and the Oliver Family.
Right after we got married, he laid down three rules.
"First, don't interfere with my affairs outside."
"Second, if any woman causes trouble at home, you're responsible for handling it."
"Third, always be on my side."
These rules sounded quite harsh at first.
But on second thought, they weren't that bad.
In the capital city, which wealthy and powerful young man isn't immersed in a world of indulgence?
Seven years ago, the Ward Family faced a major crisis.
My two uncles mismanaged the business, causing a financial breakdown.
Only the Oliver Family was willing to inject capital into the Ward Group in the form of a bride price, acquiring a 10% stake in return.
So, I married him as a bargaining chip.
When I first married him, I was only 20, utterly clueless about marriage.
Later, I learned from others that his first love died the year we got married.
After the wedding, Harold treated me well-considerate, wealthy, and responsible.
For the first three years, I truly fell in love with him.
He could casually buy me a sapphire necklace I mentioned liking or arrange a private jet to take me to see the Northern Lights when I expressed a desire to see them.
When I fell ill, he dropped everything to fly back from abroad to be with me.
During those three years, he spoiled me to the point of naivety, making me believe he loved me to the core, completely forgetting the pre-marital rules.
Until the first incident occurred.
At a party, I attended in a custom-made dress worth tens of thousands, holding Harold's arm.
As people around us called me "Mrs. Oliver," Harold suddenly left my side to approach someone else.
He maintained his composure, but I knew he was flustered.
He stopped in front of a woman, and I followed his gaze.
She looked strikingly like Harold's first love, Erika.
I didn't know Erika, had never even met her, but I remembered her name deeply.
Harold smiled faintly as he chatted with this woman, and soon they left together.
All eyes turned to me, as if waiting for me to make a fool of myself.
I swallowed my bitterness and anger, forcing a smile to explain for him.
"My husband must have found someone he knows..."
After dealing with the curious onlookers, I fled to the restroom.
I called Harold countless times, but his phone was off.
When I got home, I smashed everything-his gifts, the masterpieces, the wine we chose together, the custom sofa...
He didn't return that night, and I sat alone until dawn.
2
After that, the woman was always by Harold's side, regardless of the occasion.
Having been loved, how could I accept all this?
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.
In public, I slapped her, and Harold pushed me away, coldly reminding me, "Elsie, have you forgotten the pre-marital rules?"
I argued with him, my eyes red and heartbroken, only for him to say, "We're just in a marriage of convenience. If you can't accept it, we can divorce."
At that moment, my heart died.
I stopped crying, fleeing in disgrace.
The Ward Family needed the Oliver Family; I couldn't divorce him.
Later, he changed women one after another, each more like Erika than the last.
When his friends told me, I was already numb.
I withdrew from the social circle of the capital city's wealthy wives, living as the nominal Mrs. Oliver at home.
Once, he came home before ten, which surprised me.
I guessed he had a fight with his mistress and, unable to get his way, returned home.
After finishing my evening skincare routine, I was reading in bed.
He showered and climbed into bed, the cloying scent of perfume clinging to him, making me nauseous.
I closed my book, subtly pushing him away, intending to go to the study.
But he pulled me back into bed.
He pinned me down, holding my wrists in his large hands, teasingly asking, "What?
Elsie, you enjoy the joint property but don't want to fulfill your marital duties?"
I looked at him blankly, unable to resist a jab.
"Did your little mistress have her time of the month?
Can't serve you? "
"If she can't even handle that, why keep her around? Better replace her sooner!"
Mentioning the other woman made Harold's expression turn irritable.
"We've broken up. Don't bring it up again."
I snorted softly, knowing it was true.
But I no longer believed his words. Today he broke up, tomorrow there'd be another Erika lookalike in his arms.
I pulled my hand free, my fingers lightly tracing from his cheek to his Adam's apple, finally resting on the glaring red mark on his chest.
"Your little mistress must be a cat, scratching you even after breaking up. Impressive."
Harold grabbed my hand again, my veiled sarcasm testing his patience.
His kiss landed harshly, his warm breath brushing against my collarbone.
I closed my eyes, enduring his punishing advances.
I couldn't cling to his neck and beg like before, whispering sweet nothings to please us both.
Instead, there was only pain and helplessness. I bit my lip, refusing to make a sound.
Seeing my reluctance to respond, he grew more aggressive.
Until I bit my lip hard enough to bleed, he lost interest and ended it abruptly.
He turned away, falling into a deep sleep.
I got up, went to the kitchen, took some medicine with water, and sat in the living room, unable to sleep.
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