1

"Dmitry, if you want to divorce Dalena, you’ll have to return all the assets and shares and leave with nothing."

"Fine."

"And you’ll need to give up custody of the child and never see her or the child again. Can you accept that?"

"I accept."

Dmitry's tone was firm and indifferent. "Madam, the contract has already expired. Dalena and the child are now taken care of. It’s time for me to go."

Dalena's mother was silent on the other end of the call for a long time before she let out a heavy sigh. "If you insist on leaving, I’ll honor the agreement and send you to Vienna for advanced music studies. The arrangements will take a week."

"As for the divorce, you’ll have to discuss that with Dalena yourself."

"Thank you, Madam."

After hanging up, Dmitry silently took out a photograph.

In the photo, Dalena’s face was glowing, her smile radiating happiness. Their son, Cyril, was holding a toy, cheerfully waving his hands.

Ironically, the man in the photo wasn’t Dmitry but Dalena’s childhood sweetheart, Fabio.

Fabio and Dalena both came from noble families. They had been inseparable since childhood and even became each other’s first love.

However, at the age of 20, Fabio went abroad for an arranged marriage with another woman. When Dalena found out, she was devastated, crying every day and losing herself completely.

To help her daughter recover, Dalena's mother found Dmitry, who was in desperate need of money. For just five million, she bought ten years of his life to help Dalena get back on track.

From that day on, Dalena suddenly had an ardent suitor.

Not only was he handsome, but he was also a graduate of New York University's art department, brimming with talent and charm.

Whenever Dalena was feeling low, Dmitry would play songs for her anytime, anywhere.

Whenever Dalena fell ill, he would stay by her side day and night, taking meticulous care of her.

Over time, she grew used to having a "male nanny" by her side, but she never agreed to marry him.

That changed after a drinking contest during a social event. A wealthy heir had wagered an international project on who could drink the most.

To solve Dalena’s financial problems, Dmitry drank until he suffered a stomach hemorrhage and was rushed to the hospital unconscious.

For the first time, Dalena cried for him.

"Dmitry, I’ve decided to marry you. I believe we’ll make it work..."

Later, Dmitry learned that the day she agreed to marry him was also the day of Fabio’s wedding. The whole social circle was abuzz with photos of Fabio kissing his bride.

Despite knowing the truth, Dmitry wasn’t disheartened. Instead, he committed himself to fulfilling the contract, marrying into the Brown family as a live-in son-in-law.

For eight years, Dmitry worked tirelessly, even having a child, Cyril, with Dalena, who took on the Brown family name.

He thought life would remain stable, but recently, a crisis hit the Jones family, and Fabio returned home after his divorce.

That very day, Dalena sped to the airport at 200 km/h to pick him up, throwing him an extravagant welcome party and gifting him luxury watches and cars worth millions.

Their old flame reignited, and they began reconnecting more frequently.

To push Dmitry out faster, Fabio deliberately got close to Cyril and fed him all sorts of negative remarks about his father.

Soon after, the once-cold and aloof Cyril began affectionately calling Fabio "Daddy."

Dalena, who never cooked, personally made warm treats for Fabio.

Dmitry understood that he no longer had a place in this family.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

In a week, he would finally leave this house, where he had been trapped for ten years, to pursue his grand musical dreams.

Dmitry drafted the divorce papers and waited quietly for the mother and son to return.

Half an hour later, the villa’s front door opened.

2

Hearing the sound of the door, Dmitry, as usual, neatly placed their slippers by the entrance and helped arrange their coats.

He had already prepared dinner, timing everything perfectly so they could eat the food while it was still hot.

"It's autumn now. I made some chicken soup. You and Cyril should eat it while it's warm."

"I caught up with Fabio earlier. We already ate," Dalena replied absentmindedly, her eyes glued to her phone as she busily sent messages.

Beside her, Cyril frowned, showing a look of irritation. "Soup again? I already said I wanted fried chicken!"

"Cyril, fried chicken isn’t healthy..."

"I don’t care! Uncle Fabio got me fried chicken. You just don’t want to make it," Cyril snapped, throwing down the spoon Dmitry handed him. "No wonder people say you’re useless! No money, no talent, and you can’t even make fried chicken!"

"You’re not even as good as a hair on Uncle Fabio’s head! Hmph!"

Hearing such venomous words from his young son, Dmitry felt as though a steel needle had pierced his heart, sending waves of coldness through him.

He had no idea what Fabio had been feeding Cyril, but it had turned him into an ungrateful child.

Dmitry turned his gaze to Dalena, hoping for some support, but her reaction was even more disheartening.

"Cyril’s still young. Don’t take it to heart," Dalena said casually, glancing up briefly. "Cyril, don’t talk to your father like that."

"I will if I want to!" Cyril made a face before running upstairs. "You’re so useless you can’t even talk back. Just a worthless piece of trash!"

And just like that, everything returned to the way it had always been.

The spacious living room fell silent once more, with only the crystal chandelier swaying slightly overhead.

Dmitry sat on the couch for a while, then finally reached under the coffee table to retrieve the divorce papers.

Dalena was still engrossed in her phone, her once-furrowed brow now relaxed, her expression calm and content.

It wasn’t hard to guess who she was chatting with.

The genuine joy on her face was something Dmitry hadn’t seen in their seven years of marriage.

With a self-deprecating smile, Dmitry placed the papers on the coffee table.

It didn’t matter anymore.

As long as she signed the papers, their ties would be completely severed, and he’d finally be free.

"Dalena, let’s divorce. I’ll leave with nothing," Dmitry said calmly, as if it were a casual topic over dinner.

"Okay," Dalena responded indifferently, her eyes never leaving her phone.

"Cyril’s custody will be yours. We’ll never see each other again. If you’re fine with that, sign here."

"Alright."

Her nonchalant response didn’t surprise Dmitry—he’d grown used to it over the past ten years.

Now that Fabio was back in her life, she couldn’t even be bothered to pretend anymore.

Dmitry handed her the pen and paper. Without hesitation, Dalena began signing her name. But just as she was about to finish, she suddenly paused.

He glanced over and saw her staring at her phone with a silly smile.

"Dalena, did you even hear what I just said?"

"Hmm?"

Snapping back to reality, Dalena frowned slightly in annoyance, finished signing her name, and pushed the papers aside without so much as a glance. "Wasn’t it about the company charity event? You can just handle things like that yourself in the future."

With that, she got up and went to her room, closing the door firmly behind her.

Watching her retreating figure, Dmitry’s lips twitched.

Of course, she hadn’t cared about anything he’d said.

Ten years of effort, and in the end, all he got was his wife’s disregard and his son’s contempt.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

In just seven days, he would leave it all behind.

His wife, his son, and this so-called home.

He didn’t want any of it anymore.