Forsake All,​​ ​Dazzle The World

"Mrs. Carnegie, congratulations! Mr. Carnegie never would have recovered this quickly without you."

"They say adversity reveals true feelings. Mr. Carnegie must be throwing this grand gala to officially introduce you as his wife."

At the Carnegie Group gala, Cordelia Sinclair maintained a polite smile as guests offered congratulations, her eyes brimming with happiness.

Three years. This was the first time Ellington Carnegie had brought her to a public event since his recovery.

Her gaze swept through the crowd, searching for that familiar figure.

Ellington stood at the center of the ballroom, his black suit emphasizing his tall, commanding presence. Deep in conversation with business partners, his illness hadn't diminished him—if anything, it had added depth and restraint.

He looked up and found her. Across the crowd, in full view of everyone, he extended his hand.

Cordelia's heart raced. The first time he'd reached for her at such a formal occasion.

He led her to center stage as guests showered them with congratulations and envious glances. For a moment, she was so overwhelmed she nearly cried.

She'd fallen hopelessly in love with Ellington the first time she saw him. When she learned about his critical condition after the car accident, she'd dropped everything to care for him. Three years of devoted nursing had brought him back to health. Even she believed her suffering had finally earned her the love she'd waited for.

Ellington took the microphone. The ballroom fell silent.

Cordelia stood beside him, tilting her head to gaze at his chiseled profile, unable to hide the love in her eyes.

"Thank you all for coming tonight. I have an announcement."

He paused. The hand holding hers suddenly let go.

She stared at her empty hand. Dread washed over her.

"I've decided to end my marriage to Cordelia."

The air froze.

The smile on her face stiffened, then crumbled. She turned to him, reddening eyes filled with disbelief.

The ballroom erupted in gasps and whispers. Congratulatory gazes turned to shock and pity.

"I'm grateful for Cordelia's care over these three years. The Carnegie family will provide appropriate compensation." He turned to face her, eyes cold and distant. "Cordelia, thank you for everything. Now that I've recovered, it's time to give you back your freedom."

Three years of devotion and hope—reduced to nothing in a single sentence.

She stared at him, lips trembling, unable to make a sound. Her ears rang. Everything blurred.

Falling from heaven to hell really only took an instant.

She stood at center stage, ice seeping into her bones. The guests' stares felt like needles. She wanted to run, but her legs wouldn't cooperate.

After the last guest departed, the ballroom finally quieted.

Cordelia looked up at him, forcing back tears. "Does it have to be this rushed? The agreement still has a month left. And your mother—"

"I'll explain things to my mother." Ellington cut her off, calm and detached.

He pushed a document across the table. "This is your compensation. If it's not enough, let me know."

She looked at the bold letters: Divorce Agreement. Her vision blurred.

With trembling hands, she turned to the compensation clause—two luxury villas in Silverlight City's prime district, a trust fund substantial enough to last several lifetimes, plus stock holdings and jewelry.

Ellington had always been generous. Even the end of their marriage was handled so gracefully she had no grounds to protest.

No room for negotiation.

Back home, Ellington went straight upstairs to shower.

Cordelia stood in the empty living room, clutching the agreement, knuckles white. Her heart had numbed from the pain.

She climbed to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, mechanically pulling out her phone. A notification popped up: [Renowned fashion designer Ondine returns home with new collection, spotted at airport with mysterious man in intimate display]

Ondine Lawson. Ellington's first love.

In the photo, the woman wore a cream trench coat, radiant as she leaned against the man beside her. Though he wore a mask, Cordelia recognized him immediately.

Ellington. His gaze resting tenderly on Ondine. Even through a blurry airport photo, their affection was undeniable.

So this was the real reason.

Something lodged in her chest, suffocating her. She wiped her tears, picked up a pen, and signed her name.

Then she opened her closet and began packing. Ellington had bought her many clothes and jewelry, but she only took a few personal items. One suitcase was enough.

Three years as a housewife, dimming her own light, thinking she could earn genuine affection. All of it—self-deception.

As she dragged her suitcase downstairs, Ellington's voice drifted from the living room, gentle: "I already asked her for a divorce. Don't worry, she'll agree... After all, she didn't marry me willingly in the first place."

Cordelia froze. Her grip on the handle tightened.

How could he know whether she'd been willing? His heart had never lingered on her. Not once.

Three years ago, Ellington had been critically injured. Despite everyone's objections, she'd signed a three-year marriage contract with the Carnegie family. From that day, she'd stayed by his bedside, caring for him with everything she had.

Two months ago, he finally stood from his wheelchair. The doctors called it a miracle. No one had mentioned the agreement.

But now Ondine had returned, shattering every illusion.

Ellington hung up and turned to see her at the foot of the stairs. After a moment's hesitation: "Where are you planning to go?"

"Home, I guess," she answered casually—though she had no intention of actually going. Years ago, when she'd insisted on marrying Ellington, she'd refused her family's arranged match. She hadn't contacted her parents in a long time.

"I'll drive you."

Cordelia wanted to refuse, but he was already heading for the door. She followed.

The moment they stepped outside, cool autumn wind hit her face. She couldn't hold back. Her eyes burned, and tears fell.

Ellington saw and frowned. "Don't do this. You've always had someone else in your heart, haven't you?"

Cordelia looked at him, confused.

"The pendant he gave you—you've worn it this whole time, haven't you?" His eyes were complicated.

She instinctively covered the pendant at her chest, bit her lip hard. Swallowed her tears and gave a faint smile. "I don't need a ride."

She dragged her suitcase away from Carnegie Villa without looking back.

Ellington stood in the doorway, watching her slender figure disappear around the corner, his fingers unconsciously curling into a fist.