Chapter 3 Public Harassment Call (2)

Their beginning was flawed, steeped in sin. From the moment she'd signed the wedding papers, she knew she had no right to expect love or respect from the man she was about to marry. Later, when her sister returned, she would step back, surrendering him to her rightful place. Happiness stolen could never endure, especially when neither found joy in their union.

She was tidying her desk, preparing to leave, when her eyes fell on the divorce papers at the top of her stack of documents. She shook her head with a faint smile. So absent-minded of her, leaving them out in the open. Fortunately, her desk was a private space, untouched by others. Otherwise, who knew what thoughts would arise from witnessing such a ridiculous sight?

A renowned radio host, married into a wealthy family with a thriving career and enviable lifestyle, she'd always been considered a winner. However, she shuddered about how her colleagues would react if they knew her secret. Would they express sympathy, disdain, pity, or mockery?

"Has Miss Anthea left yet?" A young technician peeked into her office, grinning at her. Everyone wanted to maintain a cordial relationship with her, with her combined beauty, talent, and robust backing.

Looking up, she returned the smile: "Not yet, just packing up. What about you? You're still here too?"

The technician glanced around before shaking her head: "The director and editor left earlier. I stayed behind to shut down the equipment and close the windows. I saw the light in your office and thought I'd check in. I didn't expect you to be here. That is a good thing, too. Otherwise, I'd be scared to death. Staying behind at the station alone is creepy."

Anthea chuckled at her innocence and stood, neatly stacking her documents before picking up her bag: "Let's go then. It's late."

The technician quickly packed her bag, following Anthea out of the office, carefully turning off the lights and closing the door behind them.

Once they reached the radio station's gate, the young woman waved: "I'll go ahead, Miss Anthea. My boyfriend is waiting for me. He insists on picking me up daily even though I told him it's unnecessary. Oh, and your husband seems to be busy. I've never seen him picking you up."

Her words, casually spoken, left a sting in Anthea's heart. She simply nodded to pass over the topic, but inside, she felt a bitter amusement. Her husband, indeed. He was waiting for her to sign the divorce papers, releasing him from their farce of a marriage, not to pick her up from work.

Unaware of her discomfort, the technician interpreted her reluctance as an aversion to discussing her private life. Wealthy people often like to keep their personal lives confidential. She shrugged, waved once more, then ran off to meet her waiting boyfriend.

Seeing the young couple interact, the boyfriend tenderly ruffling the girl's hair, carefully placing a helmet on her head, Anthea couldn't help but feel a pang of loss. The young woman mounted the worn motorbike, holding her boyfriend tight around his waist. They sped off into the night, leaving Anthea alone in the dimly lit station entrance.

In no time, the night swallowed the radiant yellow light of the car. Anthea shook her head and laughed, unsure whether she was laughter hing at the youth or herself.

She wandered toward the parking lot. At eleven o'clock in the evening, the entire city was silent. Street lights flickered, and people rushed home to their peaceful nests.

Only those with someone waiting behind their warm home doors felt the need to hurry back.

As for her, she felt both the presence and absence of such a feeling.

Work, love, family... All were burdens resting heavily on the slender shoulders of the young woman. Returning home only meant solitude in the large, desolate mansion.

Going out, no one inquired; coming back, no one cared.

There were times when she yearned for the simple and peaceful happiness other girls had, a couple working together, building their home.

But such moments were fleeting.

She needed to live for reality rather than dream of something distant. Eventually, her elder sister would return.

Then, she would willingly step back, and go far away, ensuring her existence wouldn't remind her sister of past mistakes.

All the events of yesterday, today, they would pass by tomorrow.

Her sister would live happily with the man who adored her. That would be enough. As for herself, the heartache, sorrow, guilt...

Or all the indescribable emotions that had haunted her for so long would gradually disappear.

In a day, two days, a year, two years, or ten years, she would find her happiness and no longer live off what she stole from others. The road from the radio station to the mansion was nearly half a city away.

Her husband rushed and neglected the marriage, so their marital home was randomly selected from his real estate.

The chosen mansion was large, beautiful, and luxurious but far from the city center. After their marriage, Raymond's days in the estate could be counted on one hand while she traveled back and forth daily.

Each workday was a chance for a breezy drive, enjoying the cityscape. She turned off the music, and the melody in the car fell silent.

The home was close. Driving into the garage, she noticed something unusual.

The matte black Ferrari was arrogantly parked in the corner of the garage.

The man who had been absent for a month suddenly remembered he had a home... The couple in the car seemed entwined for some time and was reaching a passionate peak.

Viewing through the glass door, she vaguely made out the figure of a woman straddling a man's body.

Sweaty and intertwined, the man buried his desire in the taut body of the woman.

Anthea sighed again and seemed to sigh more than usual today.

Indeed, nothing good ever came from being involved with Raymond. After working late into the night, her body and soul were exhausted.

She honestly didn't have the energy or mindset for anything else.

Choosing to ignore the lecherous spectacle of the two adulterers putting on a passionate display, she was about to retreat into the house. The moment Alva sensed the existence of a third party, her concentration wavered, casting a sidelong glance outside.

Recognizing Anthea, a derisive chuckle echoed silently within her.