Never Forgive, Never Remarry

I let out a cold chuckle, which only made him even more furious.

"Saveline, who do you think you are?" David gritted his teeth, his voice dripping with contempt. "Do you really think anyone else in this world would want you? Given your current situation, the moment you step out of my house, you’ll have no choice but to starve!"

"You don’t need to worry about that," I replied indifferently. "Look over the agreement. If there are no issues, sign it. We’ll go to the civil affairs bureau in a month to finalize the divorce."

Compared to David's rage, I remained remarkably calm.

"Saveline, you wouldn’t have secretly latched onto another man, would you? Otherwise, how could you possibly be willing to give up on me, your financial backer..."

"You are indeed a financial backer," I chuckled, "But you're not my financial backer, you’re Lucia’s. All these years, the money I’ve spent came from the roles I worked hard to get. I don’t have the habit of relying on a sponsor."

"You’re still so stubborn," David sneered, his eyes flashing with malice. "Without me, do you really think you'll even get the chance to be an extra?"

"Even if I have to pick up trash, I will never accept your charity," I calmly said.

My unwavering stance made David so furious that his expression twisted in anger. "I’d love to see whether your stubbornness lasts or if my methods will break you first. Let’s see if you can still act this tough when the time comes!"

"Just sign it!" I even uncapped the pen and handed it to him.

David wavered for a moment as he held the divorce agreement, seemingly deep in thought. Then, shaking the document in his hand, he said, "If you want me to sign, fine. But you have to attend the gala with me tonight. Once it’s over, I’ll sign."

After speaking, he pulled an invitation card from the pocket of his suit, my name clearly written on it.

"Alright."

As long as he agreed to the divorce, I was willing to go through fire and water. Let alone attend a mere gala.

"I’ll give you a heads-up. With your current status and reputation, you normally wouldn’t qualify to attend a gala of this level. If the organizers invited you just to boost Lucia’s presence, you might find yourself in an awkward situation. If you apologize to me now, I might reluctantly help you back out of it."

There was a subtle hesitation in his expression, a trace of reluctance that contradicted the arrogance he had when he first walked through the door.

"As long as you sign, I’m definitely going."

"You really don’t know what’s good for you! Don’t expect me to save you when things go south!"

We were locked in a stalemate. After throwing out that harsh remark, he tossed a paper bag at me.

"This is your dress for tonight. No ironing. Just wear it."

I pulled it out and took a look. It was an outdated design from 2015.

It was originally pure white, but now it had turned yellowish. On top of that, it had been carelessly crumpled into a ball, leaving the entire dress wrinkled beyond repair.

It was obvious. David was determined to make Lucia shine like a graceful white swan while using me as the perfect contrast.

Fine. I’d play the clown one last time. If that was the price to leave him, so be it.

It wasn’t until I arrived at the venue that I finally understood. Lucia’s scheme was far more than just making me a laughingstock.

I had underestimated the depth of David’s disdain for me. He was truly willing to go to any lengths for his beloved.

All I had done was call out Lucia for being a mistress, yet to soothe her wounded pride, he had gone as far as inviting major media outlets from abroad to capture my humiliation.

Looking at my wrinkled, yellowed gown, my overly dramatic hairstyle, the dreadful Barbie-pink lipstick and my peeling high heels, I felt the bitterness in my heart.

On both sides of the red carpet, there were not only journalists with their cameras but also a crowd of fans.

The moment they saw me in this ridiculous state, there was a brief moment of stunned silence, followed by a wave of murmurs and exclamations.