My Husband Faked Our Marriage So I Destroyed His Empire Chapter 05
I walked straight into the bedroom.
My eyes swept over the desk, the windowsill, the shelves.
They were covered with things Adrian had once given me.
The necklace from our first date. The diamond ring from his proposal. Limited-edition collectibles he bought because I mentioned them once. Countless gifts from countless holidays.
Each one was proof that he had once loved me.
Back then, when the Shaw family bullied me, he would stand in front of me like a wall.
When I was sad, he would pull me into his arms and tell me again and again that he was there.
He had stood by my mother’s hospital bed with red eyes and sworn he would protect me for life, that he would never let me suffer again.
Only someone who had truly been loved could understand how deeply that love hurt when it turned false.
I looked at those old things, my fingers trembling. My eyes finally stung.
One by one, I packed them away, placing the last item into the box.
The lock outside clicked softly.
At two in the morning, Adrian came home.
He smelled faintly of disinfectant, mixed with the perfume Chloe always wore. Exhaustion sat in his eyes.
But when his gaze landed on the thick white bandage wrapped around my leg, his face changed as if he had only just realized I was injured.
“Evie, how did your leg get this bad?”
He strode over, dropped to one knee, and reached out to check the wound.
“What happened this afternoon was my fault. I shouldn’t have left you alone at the Shaw house. I shouldn’t have let you be humiliated. Don’t take it to heart.”
His voice was gentle. His eyes were sincere.
He looked nothing like the man who had ignored me that afternoon.
I did not say it hurt.
I did not say I was fine.
I picked up the sheet of paper from the desk.
It was in Adrian’s handwriting.
A promise to Evie.
I looked at him quietly.
“Adrian, when we were dating, you wrote that after we got married, you would give me half of Whitmore Group.”
“Does that still count?”
Over the years, I had been the one managing Whitmore Group for him. Many clients only trusted my face.
Whitmore Group’s success today was because of me.
Adrian froze.
His lips parted, as if he wanted to refuse.
But then he looked at the old gifts neatly arranged in the box. He looked at my pale face and the blood seeping through the bandage on my leg.
He did not refuse.
“Yes,” he said hoarsely. His voice trembled almost imperceptibly. “I’ll give it to you.”
Without hesitation, he took out a share transfer agreement, leaned over the coffee table, signed his name stroke by stroke, and pressed his thumbprint onto it.
He transferred half of his tradable Whitmore Group shares to me.
“There,” he said. “These shares are yours now.”
He reached out, as if to touch my hair the way he used to, his eyes still carrying that practiced reassurance.
“Don’t be angry anymore, okay?”
I picked up the agreement, glanced at it, put it into my bag, and said softly, “Thank you.”
My distant tone made him uncomfortable.
He frowned, about to speak, when his phone rang urgently.
The name on the screen was bright and clear.
Chloe.
He went out to answer.
When he came back, his face was full of apology.
“Evie, Chloe says her stomach hurts and she can’t sleep. I need to go check on her. Stay home and rest. I’ll come back as soon as I handle it.”
I did not even look up.
“Go.”
Adrian did not leave immediately.
“Evie, are you angry?”
“No.”
He exhaled, as if relieved to confirm that I was still under his control.
After repeatedly reminding me to take care of myself and not overthink, he grabbed his coat and rushed out.
The moment the door slammed shut, the last trace of my mask disappeared.
I opened my phone and sent my lawyer the wedding video I had found in the box, along with the share transfer agreement Adrian had just signed.
“File the lawsuit against Adrian for forging a marriage certificate.”
I touched the share transfer agreement.
Adrian had given me twenty percent of Whitmore Group.
My mother had left me a similar agreement.
Shaw Group had been founded by my mother and father together. Lydia had stolen my mother’s title, but she could not take away the thirty percent stake my mother held in black and white.
“Sell all my shares and cash out. Then leak the news.”
My lawyer hesitated.
“Ms. Shaw, are you sure?”
I knew why he hesitated.
A sale of that many shares would be enough to shake confidence in the companies.
If their competitors bought them, it could destroy both companies.
What I was doing was clearly meant to bring down both the Shaw family and the Whitmore family.
But I said, “I’m sure.”
I had already packed what mattered.
My mother’s jade pendant, my documents, my personal belongings.
There was not much. One small suitcase held everything.
I zipped it shut and went straight to the airport.
Grandpa’s private jet was already waiting on the tarmac, the crew standing respectfully to one side.
Before boarding, I opened my contacts.
I blocked Adrian, my father, Chloe, and everyone connected to them.
Every Su relative, every friend of Adrian’s, every person who had looked on coldly, gone in one sweep.
I erased every trace, turned off my phone, and stepped onto the plane.
The boarding stairs folded away, cutting me off from the city full of scars.
Goodbye, Adrian.
From now on, we owe each other nothing.