Mila Sutherland learned the hard way that marrying into the elite Montgomery family came at a price. For seven years, she endured her husband Lysander's cold indifference and their son's cruel comparisons to his "perfect" childhood fiancée. The final blow came when she realized she'd always be an outsider in their world. Heartbroken but determined, Mila walked away—leaving behind the Montgomery name and fortune. She rebuilt her life from scratch, transforming herself into a celebrated fashion designer and artist whose work commanded international acclaim. Just when she'd moved on, the Montgomerys came crawling back. Her son begged for her attention. Lysander, who'd once treated her as an inconvenience, suddenly refused to sign the divorce papers. Too little, too late. Mila had already rewritten her destiny—this time, on her own terms.

Chapter 1January 15th, Kingsford.On a deep winter's night, thick snowflakes drifted down, blanketing the ground in a heavy layer that quickly turned to slush under the constant tread of pedestrians and vehicles.At the curb sat a sleek blue Audi.Mila Sutherland, wrapped snugly in a white down coat, clutched a bouquet of freshly bought roses as she made her way to the car, dialing Lysander Montgomery's number.Today marked their eighth wedding anniversary.She had wrapped up work early, hoping to surprise her husband with a candlelit dinner to celebrate making it through the infamous seven-year itch, stepping into their ninth year of marriage.The first call went unanswered.She tried twice more, waiting patiently each time until a cold voice finally came through."What is it?"Mila's smile waned, but she gently reminded him, "We planned to have dinner out today, remember? The restaurant is...""Busy with work."Before Mila could say another word, the line went dead.Standing in the biting wind, Mila gripped her phone tightly, shivering as a gust cut through her. A wave of disappointment washed over her.Did Lysander even remember what day it was?Plans they made were always being postponed or brushed aside; he couldn't spare even a single evening for dinner.A sudden fatigue settled over her.Closing her eyes briefly, Mila gathered herself and called her son, Adrian Montgomery.She had arranged for him to stay with his grandmother so she and Lysander could have a rare evening alone.With dinner plans dashed, she needed to pick up her child....In a lavish corner of an upscale restaurant sat an elegant woman with striking features, accompanied by a boy of about six or seven.The boy was engrossed in a brand-new gaming device, oblivious to the flashing call on the table beside him.The woman, noticing the caller ID, deftly swiped to answer and set the phone on mute, placing it face down on the table.She turned to the boy and asked, "Adrian, do you like the game console I got you?"Mila, listening on the other end, was momentarily stunned by the voice before a chill crept over her heart.It was Giselle Harvey, Lysander's childhood crush. Wasn't she supposed to be pursuing her doctorate abroad? Why was she back, and with her son?...Inside the restaurant.Finally looking up from his game, the boy nodded enthusiastically. "I love it, Giselle! Thank you!"Giselle's lips curled into a slight smile. "Really? Doesn't your family buy you game consoles?"With the sprawling Montgomery Holdings empire, headed by Chairman Lysander Montgomery, buying out a few gaming companies would be effortless—let alone a single game console.Adrian pouted, a hint of displeasure in his voice:"It's not that. Dad and my grandparents let me play whatever I want. It's Mom who's always nagging, controlling how long I can play. She takes it away when time's up... But you're the best, Giselle."Giselle gently ruffled Adrian's hair, her tone soothing. "Don't say that. Your mom just worries about you playing too long and hurting your eyes. She means well, and it'd make her sad to hear you say otherwise.""She wouldn't care."Adrian, already absorbed back in his game, replied dismissively, "Mom's always so nice. I've never seen her upset."Giselle chuckled softly, her gaze drifting to the table's spread. After a moment's thought, she picked up a piece of spicy chicken and offered it to Adrian, who was too preoccupied to eat."I remember you mentioned your mom is great at cooking Southern dishes? I love those too."Adrian, with a cheerful grin, replied, "Yes, my mom's cooking is amazing. It's even better than what you get at restaurants. Both my dad and I love her food. If you like it too, Giselle, you should come over sometime, and I'll ask her to cook for you."Giselle's eyes twinkled as she feigned surprise, "Oh, really? Can I?""Of course you can," Adrian said matter-of-factly. "You're one of our favorite people, Giselle, so you're always welcome at our place.""So, Adrian really likes Giselle, huh?" Giselle chuckled and gently poked Adrian's soft cheek.Adrian nodded, snuggling against Giselle's finger, "I wish my mom could be more like you. She's always nagging me, it's so annoying."...The cold wind howled, and snowflakes danced in the sky.Mila stood amidst the swirling snow, her hair and eyebrows dusted with white. Each word coming through her phone struck her heart, and her eyes reddened with unshed tears.Yes, she was an excellent cook.Because her husband and son loved spicy food, she had taken the time to learn from top chefs, mastering the art of Southern cuisine. On quiet weekends, she relished the chance to cook for them, her skills rivaling those of any high-end restaurant.But hearing Adrian's words left her chest tight with pain.This was her beloved son, whom she'd cherished for seven years.Seven years of care and devotion, only to be dismissed as bothersome and annoying, unlike Giselle.She wanted to hang up, but a familiar yet distant voice stopped her — a voice filled with warmth that made her frozen hands tremble.It was her husband, Lysander.Mila's heart ached with a numbing pain that forced a bitter laugh from her lips.This was the work Lysander claimed kept him busy?On their eighth wedding anniversary, he was dining with his childhood sweetheart, and they brought their son along?The call had already ended.Mila stood in the snow, laughing bitterly for a while, her eyes brimming with tears. The bouquet of roses in her hands was thrown to the ground, crushed beneath her foot.The red petals scattered across the snow, glaringly bright like spilled blood.Mila got into her car, letting the warm air thaw her frozen limbs, slowly bringing her back to her senses.Memories rushed past like fleeting clouds.She knew Lysander had married her because of an unexpected night, pressured by his mother and the circumstances.He never loved her, might even despise her.Despised her for coming between him and his lover, loathed her perceived manipulations.But she had been naive then, enchanted by the allure of something unreachable, believing that with patience and care, things would improve.What did she receive in return?Seven years of cold indifference, a punishment of silence.Even their son grew more distant, shared in his father's disdain for her.She was invisible in her own home, a mere tool, unseen and unappreciated.After seven years, she was finally clear-eyed. She couldn't warm Lysander's icy heart any longer.It was time to end this.The car's soft yellow lights illuminated Mila's pale, delicate face, her nose tipped with a cherry hue from the cold and warmth clashing.Stretching her still-numb fingers, she sent a message to a lawyer friend she met while at Northpoint University.They planned to meet the next day to discuss the details of the divorce and division of assets.The car rolled into a suburban neighborhood, stopping in front of a charming three-story house with a quaint garden.Handing the car keys to the housekeeper, Mila strode inside. The warmth enveloped her, chasing away the chill that had clung to her from outside.Ignoring the greeting staff, she headed straight for the bedroom to pack her belongings.The thought of Lysander reconnecting with Giselle without her knowing, and even involving her child, churned Mila's stomach. She felt nauseous.She had no desire to stay a moment longer in this house.There was a lot to pack, but she focused on essentials: personal clothing, a few winter outfits, and some valuable jewelry she often wore. It all filled a large suitcase.As she reached for the nightstand, her fingers brushed against a secondary credit card.This card was linked to Lysander's account.Given that their marriage was forced by their elders, Lysander had always been wary and stringent with her, never providing her with an allowance.Their son had his own card.But Mila, she only had this secondary card from Lysander.In her naive days, she saw this card as a token of affection. Later, she realized it was a means of control.Every transaction she made would notify Lysander.However, Mila rarely used it. When she did, it was mostly to buy household items. Most of the time, she relied on her own salary.Mila had found her job independently.Wanting to be closer to Lysander, she had applied to Montgomery Holdings' tech department. Despite her impressive resume as a Northpoint University computer science Ph.D., she was rejected without even an interview.Later, she discovered it was Lysander's doing.Montgomery Holdings wouldn't accept her.What had Lysander said back then?"If you want to be Mrs. Montgomery, then focus on being Mrs. Montgomery at home. The company business doesn't need your involvement."Looking back, the past seven years were filled with countless heartaches.Had they ever really been like a married couple?Mila left the secondary card untouched, only taking her valuable jewelry. Lacking the patience to pack meticulously, she crammed everything into the suitcase and headed downstairs.Harper emerged from the kitchen at the sound, surprised to see her carrying luggage. He hurried over, "Ma'am, are you...?""Business trip," Mila replied offhandedly, not interested in explaining further.Having known Lysander for so many years, having shared a bed with him, she was all too aware of his ruthless, vindictive nature. Even in personal disagreements, he could hold a grudge for seven years.Until she had spoken with the lawyer and had a clear plan, she wasn't going to tip her hand.Without love, it was time to discuss money.She had served this father and son for seven years. Even though asset division might be difficult given the circumstances, some compensation was surely due....Exiting the villa, Mila drove to a location near her office.She had already rented a fully-furnished, move-in-ready apartment on the way. She didn't plan to stay in the area for long.Currently, she was employed in the tech department of a bank.In three years, she had risen from a regular technician to a team leader, but she didn't enjoy the work.She initially chose computer science at Northpoint University because it was lucrative, and she needed the money at the time.A bachelor's degree in computer science from Northpoint University was sufficient.Once she had earned enough, she could pursue her true passion.However, she later discovered Lysander's interest in computer science and AI. To bridge the gap between them and foster common topics, she buried her love for art and design, choosing instead to further her studies in computer science at Northpoint University.Chapter 2January 15th, Kingsford.On a deep winter's night, thick snowflakes drifted down, blanketing the ground in a heavy layer that quickly turned to slush under the constant tread of pedestrians and vehicles.At the curb sat a sleek blue Audi.Mila Sutherland, wrapped snugly in a white down coat, clutched a bouquet of freshly bought roses as she made her way to the car, dialing Lysander Montgomery's number.Today marked their eighth wedding anniversary.She had wrapped up work early, hoping to surprise her husband with a candlelit dinner to celebrate making it through the infamous seven-year itch, stepping into their ninth year of marriage.The first call went unanswered.She tried twice more, waiting patiently each time until a cold voice finally came through."What is it?"Mila's smile waned, but she gently reminded him, "We planned to have dinner out today, remember? The restaurant is...""Busy with work."Before Mila could say another word, the line went dead.Standing in the biting wind, Mila gripped her phone tightly, shivering as a gust cut through her. A wave of disappointment washed over her.Did Lysander even remember what day it was?Plans they made were always being postponed or brushed aside; he couldn't spare even a single evening for dinner.A sudden fatigue settled over her.Closing her eyes briefly, Mila gathered herself and called her son, Adrian Montgomery.She had arranged for him to stay with his grandmother so she and Lysander could have a rare evening alone.With dinner plans dashed, she needed to pick up her child....In a lavish corner of an upscale restaurant sat an elegant woman with striking features, accompanied by a boy of about six or seven.The boy was engrossed in a brand-new gaming device, oblivious to the flashing call on the table beside him.The woman, noticing the caller ID, deftly swiped to answer and set the phone on mute, placing it face down on the table.She turned to the boy and asked, "Adrian, do you like the game console I got you?"Mila, listening on the other end, was momentarily stunned by the voice before a chill crept over her heart.It was Giselle Harvey, Lysander's childhood crush. Wasn't she supposed to be pursuing her doctorate abroad? Why was she back, and with her son?...Inside the restaurant.Finally looking up from his game, the boy nodded enthusiastically. "I love it, Giselle! Thank you!"Giselle's lips curled into a slight smile. "Really? Doesn't your family buy you game consoles?"With the sprawling Montgomery Holdings empire, headed by Chairman Lysander Montgomery, buying out a few gaming companies would be effortless—let alone a single game console.Adrian pouted, a hint of displeasure in his voice:"It's not that. Dad and my grandparents let me play whatever I want. It's Mom who's always nagging, controlling how long I can play. She takes it away when time's up... But you're the best, Giselle."Giselle gently ruffled Adrian's hair, her tone soothing. "Don't say that. Your mom just worries about you playing too long and hurting your eyes. She means well, and it'd make her sad to hear you say otherwise.""She wouldn't care."Adrian, already absorbed back in his game, replied dismissively, "Mom's always so nice. I've never seen her upset."Giselle chuckled softly, her gaze drifting to the table's spread. After a moment's thought, she picked up a piece of spicy chicken and offered it to Adrian, who was too preoccupied to eat."I remember you mentioned your mom is great at cooking Southern dishes? I love those too."Adrian, with a cheerful grin, replied, "Yes, my mom's cooking is amazing. It's even better than what you get at restaurants. Both my dad and I love her food. If you like it too, Giselle, you should come over sometime, and I'll ask her to cook for you."Giselle's eyes twinkled as she feigned surprise, "Oh, really? Can I?""Of course you can," Adrian said matter-of-factly. "You're one of our favorite people, Giselle, so you're always welcome at our place.""So, Adrian really likes Giselle, huh?" Giselle chuckled and gently poked Adrian's soft cheek.Adrian nodded, snuggling against Giselle's finger, "I wish my mom could be more like you. She's always nagging me, it's so annoying."...The cold wind howled, and snowflakes danced in the sky.Mila stood amidst the swirling snow, her hair and eyebrows dusted with white. Each word coming through her phone struck her heart, and her eyes reddened with unshed tears.Yes, she was an excellent cook.Because her husband and son loved spicy food, she had taken the time to learn from top chefs, mastering the art of Southern cuisine. On quiet weekends, she relished the chance to cook for them, her skills rivaling those of any high-end restaurant.But hearing Adrian's words left her chest tight with pain.This was her beloved son, whom she'd cherished for seven years.Seven years of care and devotion, only to be dismissed as bothersome and annoying, unlike Giselle.She wanted to hang up, but a familiar yet distant voice stopped her — a voice filled with warmth that made her frozen hands tremble.It was her husband, Lysander.Mila's heart ached with a numbing pain that forced a bitter laugh from her lips.This was the work Lysander claimed kept him busy?On their eighth wedding anniversary, he was dining with his childhood sweetheart, and they brought their son along?The call had already ended.Mila stood in the snow, laughing bitterly for a while, her eyes brimming with tears. The bouquet of roses in her hands was thrown to the ground, crushed beneath her foot.The red petals scattered across the snow, glaringly bright like spilled blood.Mila got into her car, letting the warm air thaw her frozen limbs, slowly bringing her back to her senses.Memories rushed past like fleeting clouds.She knew Lysander had married her because of an unexpected night, pressured by his mother and the circumstances.He never loved her, might even despise her.Despised her for coming between him and his lover, loathed her perceived manipulations.But she had been naive then, enchanted by the allure of something unreachable, believing that with patience and care, things would improve.What did she receive in return?Seven years of cold indifference, a punishment of silence.Even their son grew more distant, shared in his father's disdain for her.She was invisible in her own home, a mere tool, unseen and unappreciated.After seven years, she was finally clear-eyed. She couldn't warm Lysander's icy heart any longer.It was time to end this.The car's soft yellow lights illuminated Mila's pale, delicate face, her nose tipped with a cherry hue from the cold and warmth clashing.Stretching her still-numb fingers, she sent a message to a lawyer friend she met while at Northpoint University.They planned to meet the next day to discuss the details of the divorce and division of assets.The car rolled into a suburban neighborhood, stopping in front of a charming three-story house with a quaint garden.Handing the car keys to the housekeeper, Mila strode inside. The warmth enveloped her, chasing away the chill that had clung to her from outside.Ignoring the greeting staff, she headed straight for the bedroom to pack her belongings.The thought of Lysander reconnecting with Giselle without her knowing, and even involving her child, churned Mila's stomach. She felt nauseous.She had no desire to stay a moment longer in this house.There was a lot to pack, but she focused on essentials: personal clothing, a few winter outfits, and some valuable jewelry she often wore. It all filled a large suitcase.As she reached for the nightstand, her fingers brushed against a secondary credit card.This card was linked to Lysander's account.Given that their marriage was forced by their elders, Lysander had always been wary and stringent with her, never providing her with an allowance.Their son had his own card.But Mila, she only had this secondary card from Lysander.In her naive days, she saw this card as a token of affection. Later, she realized it was a means of control.Every transaction she made would notify Lysander.However, Mila rarely used it. When she did, it was mostly to buy household items. Most of the time, she relied on her own salary.Mila had found her job independently.Wanting to be closer to Lysander, she had applied to Montgomery Holdings' tech department. Despite her impressive resume as a Northpoint University computer science Ph.D., she was rejected without even an interview.Later, she discovered it was Lysander's doing.Montgomery Holdings wouldn't accept her.What had Lysander said back then?"If you want to be Mrs. Montgomery, then focus on being Mrs. Montgomery at home. The company business doesn't need your involvement."Looking back, the past seven years were filled with countless heartaches.Had they ever really been like a married couple?Mila left the secondary card untouched, only taking her valuable jewelry. Lacking the patience to pack meticulously, she crammed everything into the suitcase and headed downstairs.Harper emerged from the kitchen at the sound, surprised to see her carrying luggage. He hurried over, "Ma'am, are you...?""Business trip," Mila replied offhandedly, not interested in explaining further.Having known Lysander for so many years, having shared a bed with him, she was all too aware of his ruthless, vindictive nature. Even in personal disagreements, he could hold a grudge for seven years.Until she had spoken with the lawyer and had a clear plan, she wasn't going to tip her hand.Without love, it was time to discuss money.She had served this father and son for seven years. Even though asset division might be difficult given the circumstances, some compensation was surely due....Exiting the villa, Mila drove to a location near her office.She had already rented a fully-furnished, move-in-ready apartment on the way. She didn't plan to stay in the area for long.Currently, she was employed in the tech department of a bank.In three years, she had risen from a regular technician to a team leader, but she didn't enjoy the work.She initially chose computer science at Northpoint University because it was lucrative, and she needed the money at the time.A bachelor's degree in computer science from Northpoint University was sufficient.Once she had earned enough, she could pursue her true passion.However, she later discovered Lysander's interest in computer science and AI. To bridge the gap between them and foster common topics, she buried her love for art and design, choosing instead to further her studies in computer science at Northpoint University.Chapter 3January 15th, Kingsford.On a deep winter's night, thick snowflakes drifted down, blanketing the ground in a heavy layer that quickly turned to slush under the constant tread of pedestrians and vehicles.At the curb sat a sleek blue Audi.Mila Sutherland, wrapped snugly in a white down coat, clutched a bouquet of freshly bought roses as she made her way to the car, dialing Lysander Montgomery's number.Today marked their eighth wedding anniversary.She had wrapped up work early, hoping to surprise her husband with a candlelit dinner to celebrate making it through the infamous seven-year itch, stepping into their ninth year of marriage.The first call went unanswered.She tried twice more, waiting patiently each time until a cold voice finally came through."What is it?"Mila's smile waned, but she gently reminded him, "We planned to have dinner out today, remember? The restaurant is...""Busy with work."Before Mila could say another word, the line went dead.Standing in the biting wind, Mila gripped her phone tightly, shivering as a gust cut through her. A wave of disappointment washed over her.Did Lysander even remember what day it was?Plans they made were always being postponed or brushed aside; he couldn't spare even a single evening for dinner.A sudden fatigue settled over her.Closing her eyes briefly, Mila gathered herself and called her son, Adrian Montgomery.She had arranged for him to stay with his grandmother so she and Lysander could have a rare evening alone.With dinner plans dashed, she needed to pick up her child....In a lavish corner of an upscale restaurant sat an elegant woman with striking features, accompanied by a boy of about six or seven.The boy was engrossed in a brand-new gaming device, oblivious to the flashing call on the table beside him.The woman, noticing the caller ID, deftly swiped to answer and set the phone on mute, placing it face down on the table.She turned to the boy and asked, "Adrian, do you like the game console I got you?"Mila, listening on the other end, was momentarily stunned by the voice before a chill crept over her heart.It was Giselle Harvey, Lysander's childhood crush. Wasn't she supposed to be pursuing her doctorate abroad? Why was she back, and with her son?...Inside the restaurant.Finally looking up from his game, the boy nodded enthusiastically. "I love it, Giselle! Thank you!"Giselle's lips curled into a slight smile. "Really? Doesn't your family buy you game consoles?"With the sprawling Montgomery Holdings empire, headed by Chairman Lysander Montgomery, buying out a few gaming companies would be effortless—let alone a single game console.Adrian pouted, a hint of displeasure in his voice:"It's not that. Dad and my grandparents let me play whatever I want. It's Mom who's always nagging, controlling how long I can play. She takes it away when time's up... But you're the best, Giselle."Giselle gently ruffled Adrian's hair, her tone soothing. "Don't say that. Your mom just worries about you playing too long and hurting your eyes. She means well, and it'd make her sad to hear you say otherwise.""She wouldn't care."Adrian, already absorbed back in his game, replied dismissively, "Mom's always so nice. I've never seen her upset."Giselle chuckled softly, her gaze drifting to the table's spread. After a moment's thought, she picked up a piece of spicy chicken and offered it to Adrian, who was too preoccupied to eat."I remember you mentioned your mom is great at cooking Southern dishes? I love those too."Adrian, with a cheerful grin, replied, "Yes, my mom's cooking is amazing. It's even better than what you get at restaurants. Both my dad and I love her food. If you like it too, Giselle, you should come over sometime, and I'll ask her to cook for you."Giselle's eyes twinkled as she feigned surprise, "Oh, really? Can I?""Of course you can," Adrian said matter-of-factly. "You're one of our favorite people, Giselle, so you're always welcome at our place.""So, Adrian really likes Giselle, huh?" Giselle chuckled and gently poked Adrian's soft cheek.Adrian nodded, snuggling against Giselle's finger, "I wish my mom could be more like you. She's always nagging me, it's so annoying."...The cold wind howled, and snowflakes danced in the sky.Mila stood amidst the swirling snow, her hair and eyebrows dusted with white. Each word coming through her phone struck her heart, and her eyes reddened with unshed tears.Yes, she was an excellent cook.Because her husband and son loved spicy food, she had taken the time to learn from top chefs, mastering the art of Southern cuisine. On quiet weekends, she relished the chance to cook for them, her skills rivaling those of any high-end restaurant.But hearing Adrian's words left her chest tight with pain.This was her beloved son, whom she'd cherished for seven years.Seven years of care and devotion, only to be dismissed as bothersome and annoying, unlike Giselle.She wanted to hang up, but a familiar yet distant voice stopped her — a voice filled with warmth that made her frozen hands tremble.It was her husband, Lysander.Mila's heart ached with a numbing pain that forced a bitter laugh from her lips.This was the work Lysander claimed kept him busy?On their eighth wedding anniversary, he was dining with his childhood sweetheart, and they brought their son along?The call had already ended.Mila stood in the snow, laughing bitterly for a while, her eyes brimming with tears. The bouquet of roses in her hands was thrown to the ground, crushed beneath her foot.The red petals scattered across the snow, glaringly bright like spilled blood.Mila got into her car, letting the warm air thaw her frozen limbs, slowly bringing her back to her senses.Memories rushed past like fleeting clouds.She knew Lysander had married her because of an unexpected night, pressured by his mother and the circumstances.He never loved her, might even despise her.Despised her for coming between him and his lover, loathed her perceived manipulations.But she had been naive then, enchanted by the allure of something unreachable, believing that with patience and care, things would improve.What did she receive in return?Seven years of cold indifference, a punishment of silence.Even their son grew more distant, shared in his father's disdain for her.She was invisible in her own home, a mere tool, unseen and unappreciated.After seven years, she was finally clear-eyed. She couldn't warm Lysander's icy heart any longer.It was time to end this.The car's soft yellow lights illuminated Mila's pale, delicate face, her nose tipped with a cherry hue from the cold and warmth clashing.Stretching her still-numb fingers, she sent a message to a lawyer friend she met while at Northpoint University.They planned to meet the next day to discuss the details of the divorce and division of assets.The car rolled into a suburban neighborhood, stopping in front of a charming three-story house with a quaint garden.Handing the car keys to the housekeeper, Mila strode inside. The warmth enveloped her, chasing away the chill that had clung to her from outside.Ignoring the greeting staff, she headed straight for the bedroom to pack her belongings.The thought of Lysander reconnecting with Giselle without her knowing, and even involving her child, churned Mila's stomach. She felt nauseous.She had no desire to stay a moment longer in this house.There was a lot to pack, but she focused on essentials: personal clothing, a few winter outfits, and some valuable jewelry she often wore. It all filled a large suitcase.As she reached for the nightstand, her fingers brushed against a secondary credit card.This card was linked to Lysander's account.Given that their marriage was forced by their elders, Lysander had always been wary and stringent with her, never providing her with an allowance.Their son had his own card.But Mila, she only had this secondary card from Lysander.In her naive days, she saw this card as a token of affection. Later, she realized it was a means of control.Every transaction she made would notify Lysander.However, Mila rarely used it. When she did, it was mostly to buy household items. Most of the time, she relied on her own salary.Mila had found her job independently.Wanting to be closer to Lysander, she had applied to Montgomery Holdings' tech department. Despite her impressive resume as a Northpoint University computer science Ph.D., she was rejected without even an interview.Later, she discovered it was Lysander's doing.Montgomery Holdings wouldn't accept her.What had Lysander said back then?"If you want to be Mrs. Montgomery, then focus on being Mrs. Montgomery at home. The company business doesn't need your involvement."Looking back, the past seven years were filled with countless heartaches.Had they ever really been like a married couple?Mila left the secondary card untouched, only taking her valuable jewelry. Lacking the patience to pack meticulously, she crammed everything into the suitcase and headed downstairs.Harper emerged from the kitchen at the sound, surprised to see her carrying luggage. He hurried over, "Ma'am, are you...?""Business trip," Mila replied offhandedly, not interested in explaining further.Having known Lysander for so many years, having shared a bed with him, she was all too aware of his ruthless, vindictive nature. Even in personal disagreements, he could hold a grudge for seven years.Until she had spoken with the lawyer and had a clear plan, she wasn't going to tip her hand.Without love, it was time to discuss money.She had served this father and son for seven years. Even though asset division might be difficult given the circumstances, some compensation was surely due....Exiting the villa, Mila drove to a location near her office.She had already rented a fully-furnished, move-in-ready apartment on the way. She didn't plan to stay in the area for long.Currently, she was employed in the tech department of a bank.In three years, she had risen from a regular technician to a team leader, but she didn't enjoy the work.She initially chose computer science at Northpoint University because it was lucrative, and she needed the money at the time.A bachelor's degree in computer science from Northpoint University was sufficient.Once she had earned enough, she could pursue her true passion.However, she later discovered Lysander's interest in computer science and AI. To bridge the gap between them and foster common topics, she buried her love for art and design, choosing instead to further her studies in computer science at Northpoint University.