Cheating On Me，Your 6-Day Countdown Starts Now

My friends all laughed at me behind my back, calling me a spineless doormat. I had been married to Julian Blackwood for seven years.

He cheated on me eight times, yet I never once picked a fight with him. On Valentine's Day, Julian livestreamed his grand confession to his ninth mistress.

That same night, he tossed the divorce papers right in my face. "Five million dollars. That's enough for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life.

Don't be greedy, Vivian." His new mistress, Chloe, covered her mouth and giggled. "Julian, she did iron your suits for seven years, after all.

Why don't you throw in another hundredthousanddollar nanny bonus?" I kept my head down, biting my tongue hard. It was the only way to stop myself from laughing out loud. Finally.

I had survived until the ninth. Before my grandmother passed away, she told me that the women in our family carried a witch's bloodline, specifically meant to punish unfaithful men.

For every time a man betrayed a woman of our blood, his lifespan would be cut short by five years. Now, his remaining life balance was exactly six days.

I smiled, stood up, and gently straightened his collar. "I agree to the divorce.

But let's wait until after your birthday to sign the papers." After all, a widow doesn't need a divorce certificate. She just needs a death certificate.

On Valentine's Day, Julian made the trending page on Instagram yet again.

He had rented out the entire city's drone and fireworks show to publicly confess his love to his ninth mistress.

That night, his face was cold and detached as he threw the divorce agreement in front of me. "Five million dollars is enough for you." "Vivian, I've given you enough respect over the past seven years.

Don't be greedy." His new toy, Chloe, covered her mouth and let out a soft laugh. "Julian, your wife did iron your designer suits for seven years, though." "Why don't you give her an extra hundredthousanddollar nanny bonus?" I kept my head down, biting my tongue as hard as I could.

I had to, just to keep myself from laughing out loud. Finally, I had made it to the ninth.

Before Grandma Hazel died, she told me that the women of our family possessed a witch's bloodline, and we were born to punish unfaithful men.

Every time Julian betrayed me, five years of his life were shaved off. I glanced at the calendar. There were only six days left until his thirtyfifth birthday.

His life balance was about to hit zero. I smiled, stood up, and smoothed out his suit collar. "I agree to the divorce, but there's no rush.

Let's wait until after your birthday." After all, a widow doesn't need to sign divorce papers. She only needs to file a death certificate. ...

The living room fell dead silent for a few seconds. A flicker of surprise flashed through Julian's eyes. He probably expected me to scream, cry, or throw a tantrum.

Or maybe beg him on my knees. But he never expected me to be this calm. And to agree so easily.

Chloe was the first to break the silence with a laugh. "I guess she just can't bear to let go of the wealth and status you gave her, Julian!" The suspicion in Julian's eyes instantly vanished. "So that's your little game." He looked down, brushing the spot on his collar where my fingers had touched.

Then, he wrapped his arm around Chloe's waist, his voice turning incredibly tender. "Of course, you'll be the one accompanying me to my birthday gala." "You are the future Mrs.

Blackwood, after all." Chloe's eyes lit up, and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Her gaze swept over my wrist, and her voice suddenly turned into a whimper. "What's the point of attending?" "She is still wearing the Blackwood family heirloom emerald bracelet." My fingers tensed slightly.

He had personally slid that antique emerald bracelet onto my wrist when we first got married. That year, several elders of the Blackwood family had tried to humiliate me in public.

But Julian stood in front of me, blocking them. He took the heirloom bracelet from his mother's hands and put it on me himself.

He told everyone that the lady of the Blackwood family would never have to bow her head to anyone.

Now, he held out his hand toward me. "Take it off." Seeing that I didn't move immediately, Julian's brow furrowed with impatience. "Vivian, don't make me have someone force it off you." I lowered my eyes and began to slide the bracelet off.

Seven years was a long time. The bracelet had practically adapted to my wrist, and the metal scraped painfully against my skin, drawing a thin line of blood.

The moment the bracelet cleared my knuckles, Julian snatched it away. He didn't even look at my bleeding hand. He carefully slid the emerald bracelet onto Chloe's wrist.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "It looks beautiful on you, Chloe." Chloe held her wrist under the light, admiring it for a long time.

She shot me a smug, provocative look, then whined to Julian. "So, what should the house staff call me from now on?" Julian pinched her nose playfully.

He gave a cold order to the butler standing nearby. "Remember, starting today, you call Miss Sinclair 'Mrs.

Blackwood.'" Then, he cast a cold glance at me. "Move your things to the guest room. Chloe is a light sleeper.

Tell the maids to keep it quiet." I stared at this man, the husband I once loved with all my heart. Julian's first affair was six years ago. It was on my twentysixth birthday.

He brought a young girl right into our house, right in front of my face. She was young, vibrant, and beautiful. And Julian spoiled her completely.

I had forced a smile back then, ignoring the mocking whispers of the guests.

I walked up to Julian and whispered, "Julian, today is my birthday." "No matter what, you shouldn't embarrass me like this on my birthday." He squinted at me and spat out coldly, "Your birthday?

Your party?" The next second, he burst into a mocking laugh. "Vivian, I pay for everything you wear, eat, and use." "Just because people call you Mrs.

Blackwood, you think you actually have the right to demand respect from me?" I froze on the spot. The bright lights of the ballroom felt like they were burning through me.

The whispers around me felt like a thousand slaps to my face. I didn't blink. I didn't cry. That was the day I realized something. The title "Mrs.

Blackwood" was just a piece of charity. It was never love. Julian's impatient voice snapped me back to the present.

I looked at him and nodded. "Okay." I gathered my things and moved to the guest room. Once inside, I took off the black obsidian pendant from my neck.

There were already eight black veins running through the stone. Six years ago, on the night of my birthday, he left me to go out with that young girl. I cried all night.

When I woke up, the first black vein had appeared on the pendant. That was when I realized what my grandmother said was true. The Vance women have witch blood.

We punish the unfaithful. From that day on, I stopped checking his phone. I stopped asking questions. I became the most "easygoing" wife in Manhattan's high society.

I never shed another tear for him. Instead, after every affair, I simply watched another black vein appear on the obsidian stone. Three years. Five years. Seven years.

And now, the ninth line had finally lit up. Only six days left.

The next morning, Chloe was dragged mercilessly on Instagram. Internet sleuths had traced her identity through the Valentine's Day fireworks.

The comments section was flooded with words like "homewrecker" and "golddigger." By the afternoon, Julian came home early.

He threw a printed PR statement on the table in front of me. "She's young and cares about her reputation.

She's been crying all day." "Anyway, we're getting divorced in a few days." "Post this from your Instagram account." The statement was short: [Mr.

Julian Blackwood and I divorced two years ago. Miss Chloe Sinclair is not a third party. I wish them the best.] I read it coldly, then looked up at him.

Julian's eyes flickered. "Dating back the divorce by two years is good for your reputation, too." I couldn't post this. In five days, he would be dead.

If I posted this now, it would leave too many loopholes, and I would get dragged into a massive legal and public relations battle after his death.

I slid the tablet back to him. "None of this is true. I'm not posting it." Julian was silent for a moment. Then, he pulled another document from his leather bag.

It was a transfer agreement for an international boarding school in Switzerland. The student name read: Lily Blackwood. My daughter. I stared at him in disbelief.

He looked back at me, his eyes icy. "The semester starts next month." "If you post the statement, I might consider letting her stay." My voice shook. "Julian, she is only six years old." He avoided my eyes and picked up a glass of water. "Six is the perfect age to build independence." "Julian!" I stood up, my voice cracking. "You promised me you would never take her away from me." That was what he had promised outside the delivery room when Lily was born.

I had run a dangerously high fever after giving birth, and he had stayed by my bedside all night, holding our baby girl.

Back then, he said our daughter would never be used as a bargaining chip. Now, his hand was pressing down on her transfer papers.

He looked at me coldly. "I don't want to send her away either.

You're forcing my hand." He slid the tablet toward me again. "Vivian, I've given you a choice." I stared at him for a few seconds, realizing the bitter truth.

His socalled choice was just forcing me to pull the trigger on myself. "Fine. I'll post it." I took my phone.

I logged into my Instagram account, which had been silent for seven years, and quickly typed out a post. [Miss Sinclair is not a mistress.

Julian and I have grown apart, and we have lived separately for a long time. I wish them a lifetime of being locked together.] Julian snatched my phone and read the post.

The veins on the back of his hand bulged. He slammed the tablet onto my lap. "Delete it!

Post the draft I gave you!" Looking at his furious face, I actually felt a rush of satisfaction. "It's too late.

People have already screenshotted it." "If I delete and repost, it'll only raise more questions." "I wrote exactly what you wanted.

She's not a mistress, our marriage broke down, and I gave my blessings." "Julian, what else do you want?" His face darkened.

He strode over, grabbed my jaw, and forced me to look up at him. "Don't play word games with me.

Delaying this until after my birthday won't save this marriage." His grip tightened, but I didn't struggle. I just stared back into his eyes. "We've been together for seven years.

There are only five days left. Can't you even wait five days?" His thumb loosened slightly, and he opened his mouth to say something.

But then, Chloe's sobbing voice drifted in from the hallway. He immediately let go of me and turned toward the door.

Before he left, he stopped. "I'll hold off on the boarding school application for now." Then, he added coldly, "But whether Lily goes abroad after the divorce, and how many times you get to see her a month..." "...depends entirely on how obedient you are." I threw the transfer agreement into the trash can and watched his retreating back. "Don't worry." "In five days, I won't be holding onto you anymore."

When I went to pick Lily up from school, she proudly held up a drawing for me. The drawing showed three people holding hands.

She was holding my hand and Julian's, and the top of the page read: Happy Birthday, Daddy!

Swallowing the bitterness in my throat, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her cheek. "Lily, this is beautiful!" We walked into the house, laughing and talking, only to find all my clothes and belongings piled up in a messy heap in the foyer.

Chloe was standing in the living room, directing the moving crew to tear down the mattress. "Throw this out, too." "Vivian slept on it for seven years.

It's disgusting." Seeing us enter, she stood up, a provocative smirk plastered on her face. "I'm just helping you pack, Vivian." "Lest you use your things as an excuse to linger around and refuse to leave in a couple of days." Before I could say a word, Lily rushed forward and grabbed Chloe's arm. "Who are you?!" "Why are you throwing away my mommy's things?!" "That's my mommy's bracelet!

Give it back to her!" Chloe stumbled back, about to snap, but her eyes flickered to the door behind us. Suddenly, she let out a cry and fell to the floor.

Julian strode in from behind me and quickly scooped her into his arms. "Chloe!" Chloe buried her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking violently. "Julian, I'm so scared..." "I was just trying to help Vivian pack, and Lily suddenly pushed me." "She said I couldn't take her mother's place, and she said she would make sure I never have babies of my own." Lily's face flushed red with anger. "I did not say that!" "Daddy, she's throwing away Mommy's things!

And she stole Mommy's bracelet!" Julian didn't even look at his daughter. Suddenly, he swung his hand and slapped me across the face.

My head snapped to the side, my cheek burning with sharp pain. "Mommy!" Lily screamed, throwing herself over me.

Julian looked down at me, his eyes filled with pure malice. "Vivian, I warned you yesterday." "And today, you're already teaching Lily to lie and bully Chloe!" "Are you trying to use Lily to force me to stay?" Lily touched my bruised cheek, crying as she tried to hit Julian. "Bad daddy!

I hate you!" Julian gestured to the maids, his voice cold as ice. "Take her to the basement storage room." "She doesn't come out until she apologizes." "Julian!" I rushed forward, shielding my daughter. "You can't lock her up!" But the maids grabbed Lily, and her terrified screams filled the house.

My eyes welled with tears.

I grabbed Julian's arm, begging him. "Julian, please, I beg you... don't lock her up..." Julian coldly grabbed my wrist and dragged me to Chloe's feet. "Apologize to Chloe, and I'll let her go." Hearing my daughter's voice grow hoarse from crying in the distance, I slowly bent my knees.

My spine bent inch by inch. Chloe's designer heels sat right in my line of sight. "I'm sorry, Chloe." "I didn't teach my daughter well.

Please forgive her." Only then did Julian wave his hand to stop the maids. Lily ran into my arms, her little body cold and trembling, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe.

Julian picked Chloe up in his arms, throwing one last warning over his shoulder before he walked upstairs. "You'd better behave yourself for the next few days." "Or else, I won't even wait for the divorce.

I'll send Lily straight to Switzerland, and you won't even get to say goodbye." I gently stroked my daughter's trembling back.

That night, Lily curled up in my arms, whispering through her tears. "Mommy, does Daddy not want us anymore?" I tucked the blanket around her.

On the nightstand lay her drawing for his birthday. She had colored Julian's hand blue because she said it was his favorite color.

I folded the drawing and locked it in the drawer. "No, baby." I held her close. "We don't want him anymore." On the calendar, there were only three days left until Julian's thirtyfifth birthday.

This time, I was no longer waiting for him to come back. I was just waiting for his countdown to hit zero.

Over the next three days, news of Julian and Chloe dominated the tabloids. They were seen trying on luxury evening gowns. Attending highsociety galas. Posing for paparazzi.

In every single photo, the emerald bracelet on Chloe's wrist was zoomed in and highlighted. The media was already calling her the "soontobe Mrs.

Blackwood." They began speculating when I would officially be kicked out. Julian's birthday gala was held on a massive luxury yacht.

The moment my daughter and I arrived, reporters shoved microphones into my face. "Mrs.

Blackwood, is it true that you and Julian are divorcing tonight?" I shielded Lily from the flashing cameras and walked past them without looking back.

The party was held on the top deck, and almost all of Manhattan's elite had gathered. Chloe, wearing a stunning silver gown, sat right next to Julian.

The heirloom emerald bracelet shone brightly on her wrist. I took Lily to a quiet corner.

But the whispers of the guests still drifted over to us. "I can't believe Vivian actually showed up." "Honestly, she has some thick skin.

Anyone else would have hidden in shame." "I heard she only got five million dollars after seven years of marriage.

Chloe even threw in an extra hundred grand for her." "A hundred grand? She actually accepted that?

How embarrassing." "Well, if she weren't thickskinned, how could she have played the role of a trophy wife for seven years?" Lily understood their words.

Her eyes welled with tears. She let go of my hand, wanting to go and defend me.

But I knelt down and held her shoulders. "Mommy, they're talking bad about you." "That's because they want to see me cry, sweetie." "Why?" I stroked her hair and straightened her dress. "Because their own lives are miserable, so they can only find joy in other people's pain." She sniffed, wiping her nose, and held my hand tightly again.

Soon, the countdown began over the yacht's sound system. Everyone raised their champagne glasses. "Five!" "Four!" "Three!" "Two!" "One!" Midnight struck. Confetti cannons exploded.

Amidst the roaring cheers, Julian blew out his candles and pulled Chloe into a deep kiss. Someone called out, asking when the wedding would be.

Julian raised his glass with a smirk. "Tomorrow morning.

I'll be finishing the paperwork with my exwife tonight." He looked at Chloe with absolute devotion. "From now on, my birthday will be our wedding anniversary." Chloe's eyes brimmed with tears of joy.

The crowd cheered, shouting that they were a match made in heaven. Midnight had passed. Julian wasn't dead. Nothing had happened. But I didn't panic at all.

I just looked down at my watch. Julian was born at precisely 12:58 AM. My grandmother always said that the universe keeps precise books. What time you are due to leave, you leave.

Not a second early, not a second late. Julian's personal assistant walked over to me. "Mrs.

Vance, Julian would like to see you in the VIP cabin." I had the nanny take Lily off the yacht first, waiting until I saw their car safely drive away from the pier.

Only then did I follow the assistant into the private suite. Inside, the lawyers had been waiting for a long time.

Julian was leaning back on the leather sofa, with Chloe clinging to his arm. "Sign it," Julian said, gesturing to the papers with his chin the moment I walked in. "We have to go register our marriage at dawn." I picked up the agreement and began flipping through the pages slowly.

Julian glanced at his watch, annoyed. "What's the point of dragging this out for a few more minutes?" I turned another page. "Lily's custody isn't mentioned here." "Of course she stays with me," Julian replied as if it were a given. "And my visitation rights?" "Depends on how well you behave." "I want a specific number of days." "Vivian, don't push your luck." "I am her mother." "Since the day you taught her to lie and push Chloe, you lost the right to call yourself a mother." I looked up. "Julian, you lied to me." He sneered, his eyes filled with mockery. "An adult's promise is based on leverage, Vivian." "You're just too stupid to understand that." I flipped to the final page.

Julian set his glass down. "There's no point in fighting me on this, Vivian." "Besides, there are cameras here, and the lawyers are watching.

Once you sign, don't even think about backing out." I met his gaze. "That's for the best." The clock ticked to 12:57 AM. Ten seconds left. I uncapped the pen.

Suddenly, Chloe leaned over and whispered maliciously in my ear. "If your daughter behaves herself in the future, I might feed her.

If she doesn't... well, Switzerland has plenty of room for her." I pressed the pen to the paper and began to write my name. Julian reached for his own pen.

Before I could even finish writing the first letter of my name, the smile on Julian's face froze. His entire body went rigid, and he collapsed facefirst onto the glass table.

Chloe's bloodcurdling scream pierced through the cabin.