Chapter 1
Isabella Miller tore up her marriage certificate with Alexander Hawke.
Then she called him. “Let’s get a divorce.”
Her voice was soft, calm. On the other end, there was a pause before he asked, “Which bag do you want?”
Isabella shook her head and forced a bitter smile. “This time I mean it, Alexander. I’ve decided we should part ways.‘
Suddenly, there was silence on the other end of the line.
She glanced down at the phone, still connected.
Her grip on the phone tightened slightly. She cleared her throat and said, “Here’s what I’m thinking… as for the property, we…”
“Alexander, it’s your turn for the drinking game! Come on!”
A soft, sweet female voice pierced the line, sharp enough to hurt Isabella’s ears. She frowned and moved the phone away, hearing Alexander mutter under his breath, “We’ll talk about the divorce when I get back.”
Then he hung up.
Ten minutes later, a notification chimed.
Five million had been transferred into her account.
Seeing the staggering numbers in her account, Isabella wanted to smile, but her mouth barely twitched. She couldn’t bring herself to.
Three years of marriage, and this was the only thing she had managed to get for herself.
She had money. Plenty of it. But not his love.
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At three in the morning, half–asleep, Isabella felt weight suddenly pressing down on her.
She forced her eyes open and saw Alexander kissing her, his sharp jaw resting against her neck. He
gently bit her earlobe, one bite at a time.
He always knew how to tease her.
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A burning heat spread through her lower abdomen. Dazed, she opened her eyes and saw the lipstick stain on his shirt.
She jerked awake and pushed him away. “Go take a shower first…‘
“I already did,” Alexander’s voice was deep, magnetic, refusing to leave her.
Isabella’s eyes reddened. “You showered, but why do you still smell like Ivy Thompson?”
The desire in his eyes vanished instantly. He looked down at her, his gaze dark and unreadable. “Jealous?”
She said nothing.
He looked at her like a child throwing a tantrum, a faint indulgence in his expression. “It was just
a friend’s gathering. Are you really overthinking this?”
Seeing her remain silent, his brow furrowed; clearly, his patience was wearing thin.
He gripped her face and tilted it toward him. He pressed closer, every movement urgent…
Alexander settled beside her, satisfied. Ten minutes later, his breathing evened out.
Isabella finally allowed herself to look at the man beside her seriously.
The same refined, handsome face she remembered, identical to the day she woke up after the car accident three years ago. Even the ring on his ring finger was the same.
But he was different now.
No, he hadn’t changed; she had just never truly known him.
She shouldn’t have seen the “I” engraved on the ring when she woke up from amnesia and
automatically assumed it was her own initial, even going so far as to take Alexander for her
boyfriend.
She shouldn’t have repeated the same mistake, indulging in his tenderness, marrying him, and spending three full years together…
Now, the ring’s true owner had returned.
Alexander’s first love–Ivy Thompson.
It was time for her to leave.
While he slept, Isabella quietly got out of bed and made a call. “When can I schedule the memory restoration procedure?”
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“Ms. Miller, we have you scheduled for two weeks from now. Please make sure your visa and other
preparations are ready.
Isabella’s heart raced. Three years… she had never tried to recover her lost memories. Now
knowing it was possible, tears blurred her vision.
“You’re going abroad?”
Alexander had somehow woken and was staring at her with dark, unreadable eyes.
Startled, she quickly put down the phone and forced a calm smile. “Just asked a friend abroad to
bring me a bag.”
Alexander said nothing, but his gaze sharpened, scrutinizing her.
Suddenly, he lifted her onto the bed, nipping at her like he loved her more than anything.
Loved her so fiercely… yet how could he have married someone else?
Bitterness filled Isabella’s chest as memories of that morning replayed.
Alexander had rushed out after a phone call, claiming he had to host a welcome dinner for an old friend he hadn’t seen in ages.
Half an hour later, she realized he forgot his wallet, so she hailed a cab to deliver it.
At the door of the private room, she overheard their conversation.
“Alexander, you’ve deceived Isabella for so long. Now that Ivy’s back, are you planning to keep lying?”
Alexander took a drag of his cigar and casually replied, “Three years ago, Isabella was talking
marriage with the Carter family’s heir. If they joined forces, the Hawke Group would have no footing. I had no choice at the time. Not exactly lying to anyone.”
His friend laughed. “Right. You never liked Isabella anyway. Taking advantage of her amnesia, just a little fun. You can drop her anytime, no responsibility.”
After a while, she heard Alexander mutter a low “hmm” from inside, like a bolt from the blue.
Isabella couldn’t even remember how she got home.
All she remembered was returning under the scorching sun, grabbing their marriage certificate, and taking a cab to the County Clerk’s Office to file for divorce.
After repeated checks, the clerk said, “I’m sorry, ma’am. Your marital status shows as single.”
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She froze for a moment, unable to process it. “Impossible. I’ve been married to my husband for three years.”
The clerk looked at her with some sympathy. “Our records show your husband is married, and the name of his spouse on file is Ivy Thompson.”
Isabella couldn’t recall how she managed to walk out of the County Clerk’s Office.
She never imagined a day would come when she couldn’t even get a divorce.
But maybe it was for the best.
Without that marriage certificate binding her, she could leave anytime.
This time, she was really going to walk away from him.
