Part 2My Ex-Husband Doesn't Know I'm an Heiress

The gallery fell quiet again.

I picked up the divorce agreement from the table and casually tossed it into the nearby trash can.

Ethan thought he had me figured out.

He assumed that without him, I could only slink back home in disgrace.

After all, for the past three years, to play the role of a gentle, considerate ordinary wife, I'd worn cheap clothes from Amazon every day, tied on an apron in the kitchen to make him soup, and even rented this storefront to run a gallery so I wouldn't seem too idle.

I'd disguised everything perfectly.

Before I could collect myself, the screech of brakes sounded outside.

Ethan had returned. This time without Winona, but followed by several uniformed movers.

He maintained that suited, superior elite demeanor, one hand in his pocket, his tone coldly issuing orders.

"Clear out all the unnecessary stuff in here. Be careful---don't scratch the walls."

I frowned and stood up. "What the hell are you doing, Ethan?"

Ethan pulled a rental contract from his briefcase and placed it lightly on the table, his expression as detached as if handling an insignificant business matter.

"Face reality, Samantha. When we rented this place, we used my ID. The contract has my name on it. Now I'm taking back this space."

I looked at the contract.

Back then, I'd let him sign it because I didn't want the hassle of exposing the John family's assets.

But I'd paid ten years of rent upfront.

"I paid the rent," I stated coldly.

Ethan looked like he'd heard a joke, smirking helplessly.

"You can't sell two paintings a month. Where would you get money for rent? It was all scraped together from the household money I gave you every month, wasn't it?"

He adjusted his perfect tie.

His tone was dismissive: "Winona thinks the lighting in this location is nice. She's planning to convert it into her private walk-in closet. Samantha, stop making a scene. Leave with some dignity---it's better for both of us."

He waved his hand, and the movers immediately came forward to carry out my easels and paintings.

"Careful there."

Ethan pointed at an oil painting on the wall that had taken me two months to complete.

He told the workers, "Throw this junk straight into the garbage truck. Don't pile it by the door where it'll offend Winona's eyes."

The workers roughly tore the painting down. The frame hit the floor, paint scattering everywhere.

Ethan didn't even glance at it, just stepped back in disgust, afraid the dust would dirty his custom leather shoes.

I didn't try to stop them.

Arguing with a shallow person blinded by vanity would only lower my own worth.

"Fine."

I nodded, picking up my canvas bag from the table, my expression utterly calm.

"Ethan, this space is yours. I hope you enjoy tonight's banquet as much as you're enjoying this right now."

Ethan smiled slightly, thinking I was just venting impotent rage and jealousy.

"Of course. Tonight I'll meet John Corporation's chairman directly. Once I get my vice president appointment letter, our worlds will be separated by an insurmountable wall. Take care of yourself."

I didn't acknowledge him further, walking straight out of the gallery.

The sunlight outside was blinding.

I glanced back. Ethan stood in the wreckage, hands clasped behind his back like a nouveau riche surveying his territory, directing workers to throw away my heart's work like garbage.

I pulled out my phone and called Mr. Kane.

"Look into Ethan's current company."

I walked forward while speaking coldly.

"Tell HR that by tomorrow morning, I want to see his termination notice and a massive claim for breach of non-compete agreement."

"Yes, Miss. Also..."

Mr. Kane paused.

"When we went to your rental apartment to pack your clothes, we discovered your Ocean Heart sapphire necklace was missing. The drawer showed signs of being pried open. Should we report it to the police?"

I stopped walking and suddenly laughed coldly.

"To buy all those luxury items for Nina to maintain appearances, Ethan probably maxed out all his cards and exhausted his loans, didn't he? With nowhere else to turn, he thought to steal my cheap knockoff and give it as a gift."

"Don't report it."

I got into the car waiting by the curb.

"Let him wear it to the banquet. Stolen goods shine brightest under the spotlight. The higher he climbs, the more thoroughly he'll be destroyed when he falls."