Rewriting the Love Story After Traveling Into the Novel Free Preview

Hospital room.

Becky Quinn completely lost it and had to be held down by a group of doctors and nurses.

The lead doctor pried her eyes open for a look.

"Nothing serious. She’s probably just in shock."

He patiently explained, "You’re still alive. No broken bones, no missing limbs. Just get some rest and you can go home. You’re really lucky to walk away from such a huge crash with only minor injuries."

Then he instructed a nurse to clean up the scrape on her forehead and moved on to check other patients.

Becky stopped struggling and stared blankly at the ceiling.

Who said she was still alive?

The soul in this body had already been swapped out!

Becky had finally figured it out.

She had transmigrated into a novel!

One of those CEO dramas she’d just finished reading.

The one that made her want to tear her hair out and curse the author’s ancestors.

The author had ended the story abruptly.

Claimed she’d won the lottery and didn’t want to waste brain cells writing anymore.

Infuriating, wasn’t it?

Readers have emotions too, okay?

Becky had been so pissed she lost sleep for several nights.

Now, she’d become a side character in that very novel—a woman who had the same name as her. The unloved wife of the male lead.

Originally, this character had lived in the countryside with her grandma. After her grandma passed, she was brought to the Bolton family—the male lead’s family.

She was twelve at the time.

Ever since then, she followed him around like a shadow. She even got into the same college as him just to stay close.

He treated her like a little sister. She dreamed of being his wife. Then one day, she drugged him and forced herself on him.

Worse, she called reporters and trapped him in a hotel room.

It became a huge scandal.

Under pressure, the male lead was forced to marry her.

But after marrying her, he just left her at home like a piece of furniture. He never touched her again.

Because he loved someone else.

The novel’s heroine. His longtime crush.

As fate would have it, that one night left her pregnant.

When she found out, she was so excited she drove to tell him—only to get in a massive car accident. Dozens of cars crashed in a brutal pile-up. It was a mess of blood and metal.

In the book, the original Becky survived with just minor injuries.

But now, things had changed. The original Becky was dead, and her body now belonged to a completely different soul.

The Becky from the real world.

The nurse finished cleaning the cut on her forehead.

She said sympathetically, "We called your husband, but he didn’t answer. Want to try calling him again? Maybe he can come pick you up."

The nurse looked worried. After all, Becky had nearly lost her mind from the trauma of the crash. It didn’t feel right letting her leave alone.

Wow. The male lead really didn’t love the original Becky at all.

A crash that big, and he couldn’t even show up?

Heartless much?

Well, whatever. That’s not my problem.

The original Becky is gone. This body belongs to me now.

And I don’t love the male lead!

So what if he didn’t come see her? She wasn’t heartbroken.

"Hey, uh… where’s my phone?"

"Right here."

The nurse handed her a phone.

It had a fingerprint lock. Becky placed her left thumb on the sensor—and sure enough, it unlocked.

In the call log were seven or eight outgoing calls, all to someone saved as “Hubby.”

The man who couldn’t stand her.

Becky called him again.

The ringtone dragged on forever. No one answered.

She opened WhatsApp, found the contact labeled “Hubby,” and left a message: "I was in a car accident. I'm at Harmony Hospital. Come pick me up."

She set the phone down and lazily lay back to wait.

Someone from the next bed handed her an apple. She thanked them and started munching.

One apple later, she scrolled through her phone a bit, but “Hubby” still hadn’t replied.

Becky figured he probably wasn’t going to show.

She got up and left the hospital on her own.

The nurse, still worried, walked her to a taxi before heading back.

Relying on the original Becky’s memories, she gave the driver an address.

"Westview Pavilion, please."

The driver gave her a double take.

Westview Pavilion—home of Dracovia’s elite. Everyone who lived there was loaded.

After a forty-minute drive, the taxi stopped in front of an insanely luxurious mansion.

Becky’s mouth dropped open, eyes sparkling, feet practically floating.

This was the marital home of the male lead and the original Becky?

Unreal.

The lawn was massive and perfectly manicured.

Inside, six housekeepers rushed over, taking her coat and helping her change shoes.

"What happened to your forehead?"

Still a little dazed, Becky forced herself to answer, "Car accident."

"Oh my gosh!"

They shrieked like someone was being murdered.

Becky waved them off. "It’s fine, really. Just a scratch."

Another housekeeper brought her a glass of juice.

"Your favorite—fresh-squeezed orange juice."

Becky’s eyes lit up. She took it and downed the whole thing in one gulp.

The staff exchanged confused looks.

Becky looked around at the palace-level home, clicking her tongue in awe.

She had never lived in a place this extravagant before.

Actually, she’d never even seen a place like this. In her past life, she was a D-list actress, barely scraping by, bouncing from one cheap rental to another. At one point, she even lived in a basement.

This? This was luxury beyond imagination.

Becky screamed internally.

After a lavish dinner prepared by the housekeepers, she started packing.

Or more accurately—started packing the original Becky’s things.

She touched her still-flat belly.

Her eyes softened.

There was a little baby inside her.

In her previous life, she’d been diagnosed infertile.

The moment her boyfriend found out, he dumped her and married someone else.

She wasn’t heartbroken that he married another woman—she was heartbroken that she could never have a child of her own.

She had loved kids so much.

She went out, got drunk at a bar, and on the way home, fell into a river and drowned.

And then she woke up in this story.

Who would've thought—God had given her another chance. A child of her own, nestled in her womb.

She remembered in the book, when the original Becky told the male lead she was pregnant, he dragged her straight to the hospital for an abortion.

But she loved this baby. She was going to keep it.

To protect the baby, she couldn’t tell the male lead about the pregnancy. And more than that… she needed to divorce him!

Run away and raise the baby on her own!

After showering, Becky sat on the bed waiting for her “hubby” to come home so she could lay everything out.

But she fell asleep waiting, and still didn’t see him.

The next morning, yawning, she wandered downstairs.

Then stopped dead in her tracks.

Sitting on the massive couch in the living room was a man. An insanely good-looking man.

The kind of guy you only see in those romantic movies.

Black shirt, black slacks, long legs crossed neatly as he read a newspaper.

And those hands—

Those hands were gorgeous.

Pale and slender, glowing with elegance.

God, I want to be that newspaper he’s holding.

So handsome!

Total wolf-type guy. Just my type!

Becky skipped over happily.

"Hey there, handsome!"

The room fell silent for a few seconds.

The staff stared at her, stunned.

The man on the couch lifted his head, dark eyes boring straight into hers.

Oh my God, he’s too hot! Way too hot!

Then the hottie opened his mouth—and his voice was ice-cold.

"Becky, what are you up to now?"

Becky instantly snapped back to reality.

So this was him—the original Becky’s husband. The male lead of the story.

With looks like that, no wonder the original Becky had lost her mind over him.

"Xa… Xavier?"

Images of the original Becky and the male lead together flashed through Becky’s mind as she blurted out his name.

Xavier looked her up and down, his sharp eyes narrowing.

“You were in a car accident?” he said, tone laced with irritation.

She was walking and talking just fine.

This woman had lied to him again—bold as ever.

Becky’s temper flared. So he had seen her messages and just chose not to respond?

She stepped forward, grabbed Xavier by the collar, and snapped, “I thought you flew to the moon, that’s why I couldn’t reach you. Turns out you were still on Earth. So tell me—why didn’t you pick up the phone? Why didn’t you answer my texts?”

Xavier froze for a second, then grabbed her wrist.

Becky yelped and let go.

“Xavier, damn you!”

Every maid in the house froze like someone had hit pause.

Their heads were full of question marks.

Is this really Becky?

Becky had a reputation for being fierce—if someone slapped her once, she’d slap them back twenty times.

The way she landed Xavier was aggressive too.

But behind closed doors, she was always sweet to him. Obedient. Humble. Always lowering herself.

She had never spoken to Xavier like this before.

Xavier stared at her for four full seconds, then frowned, clearly annoyed. “Becky!”

Becky scowled. “What are you yelling for?”

Something was definitely off.

Very off.

Becky was acting completely out of character.

After a moment, Xavier changed his tone to something a bit gentler. “What’s wrong with you?”

He decided not to press the issue about the car accident lie for now.

Becky was cranky from poor sleep.

It was her first time sleeping in such a luxurious bed, and she’d woken up multiple times during the night.

Any good mood from seeing the pretty man was long gone.

The illusion was shattered.

Becky glared at Xavier for a few seconds, clicking her tongue in disgust.

A flashy product wrapped in attractive packaging, but nothing good inside.

Whoever wanted him could have him. She didn’t care.

Nothing compared to the baby in her belly.

Oh, right—the baby.

Becky suddenly remembered her main mission: get a divorce.

It was Xavier’s first time being looked at with such obvious disdain by Becky—and not just once, but several times.

Just as he was about to blow up, Becky softened her voice. “Hey… can we talk?”

Xavier exhaled quietly.

There it is again. Becky was pulling some new trick, trying to get his attention.

For a second, he’d thought she’d changed.

But no. He’d overestimated her.

There was nothing in this woman’s head but him.

Xavier pressed his lips into a thin line, just about to speak.

Becky cut in, “Let’s get divorced.”

“What?”

Xavier stared at her like she’d just sprouted a second head.

“Becky, is this another one of your games? Threatening me with divorce now?”

“It’s not—”

“Becky, you keep pulling these ridiculous stunts. First the fake car accident, then that attitude, and now this? Threats? Let me make one thing clear: it’s useless. Giving you the title of wife was already my limit. Don’t expect anything more.”

Becky let out a disbelieving laugh. She jabbed a finger at his chest—hard, twice.

“What ‘more’ are you talking about? Your heart? Please. That’s hilarious. Keep it. Give it to another woman. I don’t want it.”

“Becky!”

Xavier’s voice was low and edged with warning.

Becky spread her hand and smacked his chest twice.

“Listen, just because you’re some hotshot CEO doesn’t mean you get to be arrogant and full of yourself. You know what I like most in the world?”

Xavier had never seen her like this before. For a moment, he was stunned.

The girl in front of him, mouth moving nonstop, barefaced in simple silk pajamas, her upturned eyes sparkling with life—

Becky grinned. “Not telling you!”

Xavier snapped out of it, scowling. “Don’t touch me!”

Becky shrugged and clapped her hands. “Fine, I won’t. I know you want to stay ‘pure’ for your crush. Don’t worry, I’ll move out of the way soon. You’ll be free to go win her heart.”

“Becky, what nonsense are you spouting now?”

Becky raised her hands. “Don’t question my sincerity. I really want a divorce. I really want to set you free.”

Xavier pinched the bridge of his nose and said coldly, “Get out.”

Becky replied instantly, “Sure—just as soon as we’re divorced.”

Afraid he’d think she was bluffing, she grabbed his wrist and dragged him upstairs.

“Come on, I’ll show you how serious I am.”

Xavier flung her hand off.

“That’s enough! Becky, I’m warning you—stop with the drama!”

Becky smacked her lips and darted up the stairs.

A moment later, she came back down dragging a suitcase, holding her ID and their marriage certificate.

“Xavier, look—wait, where’d he go?”

The living room was empty.

Becky called him.

His phone rang for a while, but he didn’t pick up.

In a black Rolls-Royce Cullinan, Xavier glanced at the screen and then tossed the phone facedown onto the seat.

Back at the house, Becky dragged her suitcase toward the door.

A maid stopped her. “Ma’am, you haven’t changed your clothes.”

Becky looked down.

True enough.

Also, she was starving. She hadn’t eaten breakfast yet.

Five minutes later, she came down in a simple T-shirt and jeans. Bright, youthful, full of energy.

She sat down at the dining table and started shoveling food into her mouth.

Even the breakfasts in rich households were overwhelming—so much variety, so delicious, she felt like crying.

One of the older maids couldn’t help reminding her, “Slow down, ma’am. Don’t choke.”

Becky nodded while still stuffing her face.

Once she’d eaten her fill, she leaned back in her chair and burped.

She couldn’t just sit around waiting. She needed to get that divorce done.

Stuffing the marriage certificate and her ID into her pocket, she headed out to find Xavier.

It nearly killed her to walk all the way out of the villa district just to catch a cab.

The place was too big.

Becky figured she had walked at least two miles to get to the main gate.

This is the downside of living in a mansion. If you don’t have a car, it’s exhausting. If you can’t drive like me, no matter how fancy the place is, I’d rather live next to a subway station.

There had been several luxury cars parked in the courtyard earlier.

One of the maids had chased her down, trying to hand her a car key.

She didn’t take it. When the maid looked confused, Becky explained, “I just need a walk. I ate too much.”

The maid didn’t question it. After all, she had eaten a lot.

The original Becky could drive.

She, on the other hand, was terrified of driving. Just gripping the wheel made her break out in a sweat.

She arrived at the entrance of Glory Corp.

This was the investment firm Xavier had built on his own.

The Bolton family already had their own company—Bolton Corp—which was currently managed by Xavier’s father, Henry Bolton.

Just as she was about to go inside, a group of people came walking out.

At the front was Xavier.

Standing beside him was a poised, elegant woman.

His crush—Yulia.

Yulia stopped in her tracks when she saw Becky. She turned to Xavier and said, “I’ll wait for you in the car. You two talk.”

She was about to leave when Xavier suddenly stopped her. “You don’t have to leave.”

Yulia shot Becky a quick glance.

“Xavier, you’ll make Becky misunderstand.”

Xavier glanced at Becky. “She won’t.”

Becky waved it off casually. “Right, right, I’m not misunderstanding anything. You two already look like a couple.”

Xavier frowned. He really couldn’t figure Becky out. He had no idea what kind of game she was playing.

Yulia studied Becky for a long moment, confused.

This woman was acting so strangely.

Shouldn’t she be storming up to slap her? Or scream and call her a homewrecker?

Why is she so calm?

She even called them a couple.

Something is off.

She’s definitely scheming something.

Yulia took a subtle step closer to Xavier, alert and guarded.

Becky spoke gently, “Don’t worry, I didn’t bring acid or reporters. But sneaking around like this isn’t a solution. Don’t you agree?”

Xavier looked at her like she was insane. “Becky, what the hell are you doing?”

Becky blinked her pretty eyes innocently. “Nothing. I’m here to talk about the divorce.”

How was she supposed to get him to believe she was serious about this?

When Yulia heard the word divorce, her cold, distant expression lit up. She looked over, stunned, like she wanted to ask something but was too reserved.

Becky pulled out her marriage certificate and ID. “I’m very sincere.”

Xavier’s frown deepened.

Becky urged, “Come on, let’s head to the courthouse. I don’t have a car, but you drove, right? Much easier with a car—just hit the gas and we’re there.”

“Oh, right. Ms. Yulia, you should come too. Once we’re done filing the divorce, you and Xavier can go get your marriage certificate. So convenient!”

She looked awfully proud of herself. “See how thoughtful I am?”

Yulia’s heart skipped. No matter what Becky was playing at, the fact that she was actually suggesting a divorce was like seeing the sun rise in the west—utterly impossible.

And yet here it was.

She had to seize the chance.

Yulia turned to Xavier. She didn’t say anything, but her expression clearly waited for his answer.

Xavier’s secretary, Kevin, stood in the back completely lost. He had no idea what was going on.

This was getting weird.

Xavier kept his eyes fixed on Becky, cold as ice, like he was trying to see right through her.

Becky was getting impatient and started urging him again. “Come on, let’s go. If we wait too long, the courthouse will close.”

“Becky, you’d better be serious. If you’re playing games with me, I won’t let it slide.”

Xavier got into the car first.

It looked like he was doing it out of spite.

Yulia followed, sliding into the backseat with him.

Kevin took the passenger seat up front.

Becky paused for a second, then quickly followed Yulia to the rear door.

It was locked.

She darted around to the other side, opened the unlocked door, and slipped in to sit right next to Xavier.

Yulia was on the other side of him.

The three of them now formed an awkward sandwich—two women flanking one man.

Becky leaned forward. “Drive. To the courthouse.”

The driver, Randall, looked to Xavier for instructions.

Xavier gave a single word: “Go.”

The car pulled out onto the road.

Becky turned to Xavier and gave him a sweet smile. He ignored her.

She shifted her gaze to Yulia.

So quiet. So composed. The type that looked like she didn’t care about anything.

Yeah, right.

Totally fake.

She had locked the car door just now.

Didn’t want her getting in.

Too bad Becky was smart and thick-skinned. Circled right around and climbed in anyway.

Besides, she still wasn’t divorced yet. She had every right to be in this car.

Why should Yulia get to lock her out?

Whatever. No point arguing now. The divorce was the priority.

Yulia, meanwhile, was starting to regret her earlier reaction.

Letting Becky sit next to Xavier was definitely a mistake. Would’ve been better if she’d taken that seat herself.

Becky’s skin was as thick as ever.

Becky’s eyes drifted to the diamond ring on her hand.

Xavier had one too.

The original Becky had pestered him into buying them.

The diamonds weren’t huge, but they were beautiful.

Probably worth quite a bit.

She’d need money to raise the baby once they split.

Her eyes flicked. “Xavier, since we’re about to get divorced anyway, why don’t you let me keep your ring as a souvenir?”

She reached out.

Just as she was about to touch it, Xavier pulled his hand away.

“I paid for that. Why would I give it to you?”

“You’re going to buy new rings for Ms. Yulia anyway. This one’ll be useless. Just let me have it.”

For some reason, Xavier felt a wave of irritation. Everything annoyed him right now—especially Becky.

He held out his hand. “Then give me yours.”

Becky clutched her hand. “No! It’s mine!”

“I bought it. If we’re divorcing, I’m taking it back.”

Becky held it tight, shaking her head. “No, no! You gave it to me, so it’s mine!”

Xavier grabbed her wrist. Somehow, he managed to tug the ring off her finger despite her yelling in pain.

Becky lunged for him, yelling, “Xavier, you bastard! You stingy miser! You greedy scumbag! You’re taking back a ring? After everything we’ve been through, this is how you treat me? You’re heartless!”

Xavier toyed with her, flipping the ring from one hand to the other.

Kevin was stunned.

Was that really his boss in the back seat?

He looked like a child.

Yulia watched the two of them, supposedly fighting over a ring—but it felt more like teasing.

Like they were flirting.

She suddenly felt like a total outsider.

It was awful.

She told herself that Xavier and Becky would be divorced soon. They wouldn’t be connected anymore.

She would be the one by Xavier’s side.

Becky gave up after flailing for so long. She was exhausted.

“Xavier… you… I despise you.”

Xavier smirked, all his earlier gloom gone.

Becky’s heart bled. Not only had she failed to get Xavier’s ring, he’d taken hers too.

Then she remembered—divorcing meant dividing assets.

She swallowed her pride. “So, uh, how do we split our stuff?”

Xavier played dumb. “What stuff?”

“Marital property.”

“Becky, all the money in this family was earned by me. What does that have to do with you?”

Becky forced out a response. “I managed the household. That counts for something.”

“Oh really? You cooked? Cleaned? Did laundry? Wasn’t all that done by the maids?”

Becky had no comeback.

Xavier casually added, “Becky, don’t forget—we signed a prenup.”

Becky searched her memory. It really did seem to be true.

Unbelievable.

The richer he was, the stingier he got.

She was furious.

“Do you have a tiny house you don’t care about? One you don’t want? Give it to me. I need somewhere to live after the divorce.”

Between saving face and having a place to stay, Becky chose the latter without hesitation.

Last night, she’d checked the original owner’s bank account.

Not a single cent in it.

She’d managed to save tens of thousands in her previous life. This girl? Useless.

After moving into the Bolton family home, all her expenses were covered, and she got a bit of allowance — but not much.

Ever since she’d slept with Xavier and forced him to marry her, her image in the Bolton family had tanked. Not a single person there liked her.

After the marriage, Xavier had given her a credit card — a secondary card under his name, with no limit.

He never stopped her from spending. She could buy whatever she wanted.

But that wasn’t helpful now. She needed real cash.

And once they divorced, she’d have to return that card anyway.

Xavier glanced at her and didn’t respond.

The message was clear.

Even if he had a house, he wasn’t giving her anything.

Becky didn’t give up. “At least give me some alimony. I’m not asking for much. Five million should do.”

That should be enough to raise a child, right?

It had to be.

She wasn’t sure.

Xavier ignored her.

Yulia curled her lips into a cold, mocking smile.

Becky caught it.

“Ms. Yulia, I’d think twice before marrying a man this stingy. If he can treat me like this today, he can treat you the same tomorrow.”

Yulia said, “Xavier’s not like that. Becky, maybe you misunderstood. He’s very generous. Yesterday when we were shopping, he offered to buy me a million-dollar bag. I turned it down. You must’ve done something to upset him.”

Becky didn’t even spare her a glance. She glared at Xavier like she was ready to sink her teeth into him.

She’d called him during the car crash, and this man had been out shopping with Yulia?

Fine. Shopping was one thing.

But he couldn’t answer a call? He couldn’t send a single reply?

How long would that take?

And he wanted to buy her a million-dollar bag?

Money to burn, huh?

Why not give it to her?

She needed money. She had a baby to raise.

So Xavier was only stingy with her.

Worthless man.

Becky took a deep breath, cursing Xavier with every word she didn’t say out loud.

He didn’t love her. That was the truth. If he did, he would never treat her this way.

Why would she want a man like that?

Just divorce him already.

Xavier looked at her puffed-up cheeks and, for some reason, found it a little funny.

Yulia caught it and froze. “Xavier, what are you smiling at?”

Xavier turned away. “Nothing.”

Yulia looked between the two of them. Had he just been smiling at Becky?

Becky made a decision. As soon as they were done, she’d go out and swipe his card hard. Bleed it dry.

“Sir, Ma’am, we’ve arrived at the courthouse.”

Becky looked out the window, opened the door, and got out.

Xavier stared daggers at the back of her head and followed her out.

The three of them walked in together.

In the driver’s seat, Randall turned to Kevin.

“They’re really getting divorced?”

Kevin said, “What else would they be doing at the courthouse? Shopping?”

“Why are they divorcing?”

“They can’t live together anymore.”

“No way. They’ve only been married a month. They must be acting on impulse. I should go talk to them.”

Randall unbuckled his seatbelt.

Kevin stopped him. “Mr. Randall, don’t interfere. You know why Mr. Xavier married her. There was never any love. Staying together would’ve been worse. I think the divorce is a good thing.”

Randall shook his head. “Still, they should think it through. Shouldn’t we tell the master and madam? This is too rushed.”

Kevin said, “They rushed into marriage. Why not rush out? Just let Mr. Xavier be free. I feel bad for him. He should be with Ms. Yulia. That’s the right match.”

Randall still wasn’t convinced. “No, I have to talk to them.”

Kevin held him back. “You can’t.”

“Then I’ll call the master and madam.”

Kevin grabbed Randall’s phone. “Don’t. Mr. Xavier will tell them himself.”

…

Becky walked in front. Xavier and Yulia followed behind, side by side.

There weren’t many people getting divorced today. Becky headed straight to an open window.

“Divorce, please.”

The clerk behind the counter was a woman around forty, with a kind face.

She glanced at Becky’s group.

“Your brother and his wife are getting divorced?”

Xavier’s expression darkened.

Becky laughed and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Nope. I’m the one divorcing this guy.”

The clerk froze and quickly apologized. “Oh, sorry! My mistake.”

Becky waved it off. “No problem.”

Xavier turned to her and said coldly, “Take your hand off me.”

Becky pouted, pulled her hand back, and muttered, “So stingy.”

The clerk still looked confused. Her eyes moved from Becky to Xavier to Yulia, back and forth.

What was this setup?

A married couple getting divorced… with the mistress tagging along?

And the wife was laughing, totally carefree. She didn’t look upset at all.

Yulia urged, “Can we hurry? People are lining up behind us.”

Becky turned around. Sure enough, there was a young couple behind them.

They looked up at the sign.

“Oh, wrong place.”

“Babe, marriage registration’s over there.”

Becky chuckled. “That’s hilarious. Who gets the departments mixed up when they’re getting married?”

Xavier shot her a cold look.

She turned back around. “Xavier, give me your ID.”

Xavier handed it over.

Becky sat down and pulled out a chair for him too.

She laid the documents in front of the clerk. “Hi. We’re here to get divorced.”

Yulia stood behind them alone.

The clerk looked up at her and narrowed her eyes. There was a hint of disgust in her gaze.

She couldn’t stand homewreckers.

Yulia felt the stare and grew uncomfortable. She didn’t know how to explain herself.

Becky pushed again. “Can we move this along? We’re in a hurry.”

The clerk slowly looked down and checked their documents. “Everything’s in order. Are you both here to divorce voluntarily?”

“Yes,” Becky said, sitting up straight like a student answering a question.

The clerk turned to Xavier. “And you?”

Xavier kept his face cold. “Mm.”

The clerk launched into a long string of standard questions.

Becky thought it was finally done.

But then the clerk said, “Next comes the one-month cooling-off period. Go home, think it through, and come back in a month.”

Becky asked, “Can we skip this cooling-off period? We really don’t need it.”

The clerk replied, “It’s the rule. A lot of couples still have feelings for each other and act on impulse.”

“Our relationship is already broken. Shattered, actually. We really don’t need a cooling-off period. Please, ma’am, just process it now. I’m begging you!”

The woman stayed firm. “You two have only been married a month. That’s the definition of impulsive. Go home and think it through.”

Becky turned to Xavier with pleading eyes.

“Xavier, can’t you pull some strings? Get them to process the divorce now?”

Xavier’s eyes were cold. “You want this divorce that badly?”

“Don’t you?”

“Becky, don’t forget. You were the one who insisted on this marriage.”

“I had a brain glitch back then. I’m sorry, okay? I’ll apologize. But you’re not exactly losing anything. You won’t even give me a little money.”

That’s how she was calculating it?

Xavier didn’t know if he was just mad or had lost his mind, but the next thing out of his mouth was, “If I divorce you, I’ll be a second-marriage man.”

Yulia stared at him in shock.

It was like she didn’t even recognize him.

Xavier realized what he’d said and grew even more irritated.

“I’m going outside for a smoke.”

Becky snapped back to attention and chased after him.

Snap.

Xavier lit a cigarette and was just about to take a drag.

Becky leaned in beside him. “Well, then we’re even. I’ll be a second-marriage woman too.”

She coughed. “Ugh, that’s awful.”

She grabbed the cigarette from his fingers, turned around, and stubbed it out in the trash can.

“Smoking’s bad for your health.”

Xavier ground his teeth.

Was this woman insane? She had no sense of boundaries at all.

Becky saw the dark look on his face and calmly explained, “You don’t have to worry about finding someone after the divorce. Ms. Yulia’s right there waiting for you.”

Xavier shot her a cold glare.

Becky didn’t care and went on, “In those CEO novels, the big-shot male leads don’t even need an ID to get married. Half the time, they don’t even show up in person, and the marriage certificate still gets processed. You know why?”

Xavier said nothing.

Becky didn’t expect him to answer anyway. “Because they’ve got connections. Aren’t you a CEO too? I believe you’ve got connections. Just make a call and have them cut us some slack. Let’s get this divorce done today.”

Xavier stared at her for a while.

“I don’t have connections. We’ll follow the rules.”

He turned and walked straight to the Rolls-Royce Cullinan.

Becky chased after him, only to get a face full of exhaust as the car sped away.

She stomped her foot in frustration.

Yulia came outside, her face full of disappointment when she didn’t see Xavier.

Becky offered helpfully, “Xavier left. See? That’s the kind of man he is. Just ran off. Left both his wife and his mistress standing here. What a guy.”

After a moment of silence, Yulia asked, “Becky, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was in a car accident yesterday, but the doctor said my brain’s untouched. Ms. Yulia, how are you getting home? Mind giving me a ride?”

“Becky, you’re acting really strange today. What’s going on with you? Why’d you suddenly agree to divorce Xavier? What are you trying to pull?”

Becky couldn’t tell her the truth — that she was pregnant and needed to disappear before Xavier forced her into an abortion.

“No agenda. I just figured it out. There’s no point keeping a man who doesn’t love me. Why waste my youth on someone who’ll never care about me? There are plenty of good-looking guys out there. I’ll find someone who actually loves me.”

Yulia narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out if she was serious or not.

Just then, a cab pulled up in front of them. Becky grabbed her arm and climbed in with her.

“Sir, take us to Westview Pavilion.”

When they reached Westview Pavilion, Becky opened the door and got out.

“Sir, get the fare from her.”

Kevin looked Xavier over, unsure if the divorce had gone through or not.

But he didn’t dare ask.

He kept signaling at Randall in the driver’s seat.

Randall hesitated, then asked, “Sir, did you and madam go through with the divorce?”

Xavier raised a hand to rub his temples. “No.”

Randall grinned. “That’s good. Honestly, she’s not bad. Married life takes time. Even if there’s no love at first, it’ll come later.”

Randall had old-fashioned views. He believed once you were married, you shouldn’t divorce easily. Better to grow old together.

Xavier didn’t respond. Who knew what he was thinking?

Kevin was frustrated.

He figured Becky must’ve backed out.

He knew she was full of tricks. She was just toying with Mr. Xavier. She never planned to actually get divorced.

…

Since the divorce didn’t go through, Becky poured her frustration into food—two bowls of rice and nearly an entire table’s worth of dishes.

She ended up so full she had to walk around the courtyard rubbing her belly to digest.

Once she wasn’t so stuffed, she went upstairs to nap. She was eventually woken by a phone ringing.

Eyes still closed, she picked up. “Hello.”

“Becky, where are you? I’m back from vacation. I brought you some food. Come over.”

“Who are you?”

There was a long pause on the other end. Then came a sheepish voice. “Becky, you’re still mad? Don’t be mad. I was wrong, okay? I shouldn’t have said all that. From now on, I’ll support whatever you decide. I won’t say bad things about Xavier anymore. If you want to stay home and be his perfect little housewife, I won’t argue. I brought food to apologize, okay?”

Becky opened her eyes and looked at the caller ID.

Sharon Yale?

Oh, the original owner’s best friend. They’d been high school classmates — her only friend.

They’d had a falling out a few days ago.

It had started with a conversation about work. Sharon had told her to get a job and stop relying on Xavier.

But the original Becky was completely lovestruck. She just wanted to be the woman behind Xavier, a good wife and mother, and stay at home. No job, no career.

They’d disagreed and ended up in a fight.

Sharon had gone off on a trip, and they hadn’t talked in days.

Becky sat up and ruffled her messy hair.

On the other end of the line, Sharon started crying. “Becky, my sweet Becky, please don’t ignore me.”

Becky softened. “Where do you live? I’ll come over now.”

There was a pause. “Becky, what’s going on with you? How do you not know where I live?”

Slip-up.

She quickly searched her memories and finally recalled Sharon’s address.

“Kidding. How could I forget? Garden Residence, right? I’m on my way.”

Sharon sighed with relief. “I’ll wait for you. And the food will too.”