His Neglected Wife Turns the Tables

Imogen threw her head back, laughing wildly as she roared, "He did all of this to take revenge on the Patel family for forcing him to marry you! That marriage you treasured so much? It was nothing but a grand, meticulous act of vengeance!"

Every word was a blunt, poisoned blade, hacking mercilessly at Solana's already shredded heart.

It felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. She stood rooted to the spot, frozen from the inside out.

So the villain had never been somewhere far away.

He had always been beside her.

Five years... For five years, he crushed her pride under his heel, breaking her spirit piece by piece.

And all of it... because she had taken the place that should've belonged to his beloved.

The door to the ward suddenly slammed open.

"Imogen!"

Wilbert burst in, shoving Solana harshly aside. She fell hard onto the cold floor as he rushed to scoop the bloodied Imogen into his arms. His entire body radiated a terrifying, icy rage.

"Solana, you've gone completely mad!"

"Wilbert, do you know?"

Solana pushed herself up, staring at him as if seeing him for the first time.

"I've never regretted my actions. Not once. But today—"

She paused, a bitter, broken smile twisting her lips.

"Today, I suddenly do."

Her eyes burned red, her voice hoarse and splintering with despair.

"I regret marrying you without looking back. I regret the five years I spent lowering myself just to earn a shred of your attention. And I regret—more than anything—loving a worthless man like you for so long."

Each word pierced like a needle. Each sentence carved itself into bone.

Something slammed inside Wilbert's chest; a strange, suffocating ache surged through him.

His Adam's apple bobbed, as if he was about to speak. But Imogen tugged his sleeve, choking back tears.

"Wilbert... Miss Scott just has a strong temper... I'm used to it..."

The sight of her blood-soaked hair tightened his expression instantly. Whatever waver had flickered a moment ago vanished without a trace. His voice dropped to a glacial chill.

"Take her away, and discipline her properly."

"She'll return once she knows her mistakes."

The bodyguards approached. Solana stepped back, her jaw tight.

"Don't touch me. I can walk on my own."

The car drove out of the hospital, heading toward the Patel family estate.

But then—a sharp screech tore through the air.

Dozens of black cars shot forward from behind, surrounding the Patel family vehicle in seconds.

A man in a fitted suit stepped out, opening Solana's door with a respectful bow.

"Miss, I apologize for being late."

He handed her a stack of documents.

"The divorce agreement has been finalized. These are the prepared visa documents. Chairman Scott is waiting for you at home."

Solana took the folder. She looked toward the distant Patel residence.

'Goodbye, Wilbert.'

She heard her own voice echo it.

Then she stepped out of the Patel family car without hesitation and got into the one waiting for her. It drove off—away from the Patels, away from everything she once clung to.

Sunlight spilled through the window, warm and clean. For the first time in years, Solana felt light.

At the same time, a trending topic exploded across the entire internet.

[Solana Scott: I just lost my husband. Any gentlemen willing to marry into the Scott family, please line up at our doorstep.]

Attached was a scandalously bright red photo of her newly issued divorce certificate.

The internet went feral in under a minute.

But what nearly made the world's jaw drop—was a single reply under her post.

From Wilbert himself.