Blurb：
Embark on an epic journey with Elara, the fearless heroine, as she uncovers the ancient Dragon’s Prophecy. Encounter mythical creatures, treacherous villains like Lord Malakor, and explore the enchanted Forest of Whispers. Will Elara fulfill her destiny and save the kingdom of Eldoria? Dive into this fantasy novel filled with magic, romance, and high-stakes battles!
Content：
How rich could a person get?
My husband was extremely wealthy. The world knew him as Yvan Ellison, the person who owned nearly half of Ember City’s real estate.
In the five years of our marriage, he would transfer a property to my name whenever he went out for a rendezvous with his true love.
By the time I owned ninety-nine properties, he suddenly realized that I had changed.
I no longer cried or caused a scene. I did not beg him to stay home.
I simply chose the best villa in Ember City, held the property transfer agreement in my hands, and waited for him to sign.
When he finally did, he showed the first hint of softness in years.
“When I get back, I’ll take you to see the fireworks.”
I obediently put the agreement away and gave a soft hum.
I just did not tell him that this time, the document he signed… was our divorce papers.
Chapter 1
The office buzzed with the low murmur of the TV, where the latest buzz was all about Wren Smith’s homecoming.
Yvan Ellison’s eyes were glued to the screen, not even flickering as he took the property transfer papers from my hands and scribbled his signature.
That villa out on Ember City’s west side, the one no amount of money could buy, meant nothing to Yvan.
Just like how I meant nothing to him.
As the news anchor signed off, Yvan’s mood lifted. He spun the pen in his fingers, a playful grin on his face as he handed the papers back to me. “What’s this now? Over sixty houses to your name? You’re practically rolling in it, aren’t you?”
The thrill in his voice was not for me, though. It was all for Wren, who was coming back to town.
I just nodded, standing there before him. “I really like that villa, it has a sea view.”
I kept it to myself that this was the hundredth property he had transferred to me.
Yvan had chased after me once upon a time, and I had turned him down 99 times. However, his stubborn love won out on the hundredth try, and we tied the knot.
That love did not stick around for long, though. It lasted right up until Wren made her first trip back.
Our first wedding anniversary rolled around, and I was there, soaking in the romantic candlelit dinner Yvan had set up, waiting for him to walk through the door.
Instead, I got a property transfer and a short, simple apology.
“Sorry, Lucille, I missed our anniversary. You’ll forgive me, right?”
I brushed off the heavy perfume that was not mine clinging to him and forgave him, my voice barely above a whisper.
I figured it was only fair to forgive him 99 times, just like those 99 rejections before we got married.
However, then came the second, third, fourth times…
Five years in, and he had ditched me time and again for his true love, Wren.
Even later, before he went to chase after his dream girl, he started giving me keys to a new house.
From the first to the ninety-ninth time.
Each time, I let it slide.
However, now, it was the hundredth time.
‘Yvan, after this, I won’t have to forgive you ever again,’ I told myself.
With that thought, I let out a small, relieved laugh and looked at him with a newfound peace.
Yvan hesitated, then looked away, unable to meet my eyes.
I caught a glimpse of something like pity in his gaze.
Then, with a slight uncertainty, he said, “When I get back, let’s go watch the fireworks together.”
Before, any hint of tenderness from him would have sent me into a daydream of getting him back.
I would have begged, then felt hopeless.
Because Yvan always had a way of icily peeling away my hope, leaving me with just one word. “Crazy.”
However, thankfully, I had been through that madness ninety-nine times already.
Then, I was done. No more fooling myself.
Because, in the pile of papers I had just handed him, I had slipped in a divorce agreement.
‘Yvan. In thirty days, we’ll have nothing to do with each other,’ I thought.
Chapter 2
25 days left.
Those past five days, his social life was buzzing more than ever.
They had been setting doves free in the plaza by day and watching the parade from the amusement park’s hotel at night.
I had not missed a single step they took together.
The promise he made to me? Probably long forgotten.
I got up to pack my bags. Looking around, my room was a total mess.
That’s when Yvan’s assistant, Kent Rogers, called. “Mrs. Ellison, don’t forget the eight o’clock fireworks at Fairy Bridge. If anything goes wrong, Mr. Ellison will never let me hear the end of it.”
In five years of marriage, only his assistant still called me Mrs. Ellison.
He was the only one in on the secret of my marriage to Yvan.
I did not want to put Kent in a tough spot, so I agreed to head out.
However, as I made my way to Fairy Bridge, I felt like I was in a trance.
It was five years ago that Yvan and I tied the knot.
He surprised me with a secret fireworks display, a secret Kent had slipped to me.
Then, five years later, I was going back to that same place.
However, my heart was in a completely different place.
As I approached Fairy Bridge, it was swarming with tourists and swamped with media.
Something felt off, so I tried calling Yvan.
All I got was an endless busy signal.
I tried again, not even sure what I was hoping for.
However, the calls would not go through, and Yvan was nowhere to be seen.
Glancing at the time, it was nearly eight.
People in the crowd were getting hyped. “The fireworks are about to kick off!”
“They say it’s Mr. Ellison’s big show for Mrs. Ellison. We’re just crashing their party.”
I froze.
In the public eye, Yvan was the eternal bachelor.
The Mrs. Ellison they were talking about could not be me. It had to be someone else.
I knew the prime spot for fireworks was on the north end of the bridge.
I figured since I was there, I might as well watch.
The fireworks did not do anything wrong, after all.
However, man, the place was packed.
I got swept up in the crowd, right to the front line.
There was Yvan.
In the prime spot, with his arms wrapped around Wren.
The fireworks were lighting up the sky, one dazzling burst after another.
I heard the booms echoing in my ears.
Over the noise of the crowd and the fireworks, I heard Yvan’s love pouring out to Wren.
A reporter shoved a mic in Wren’s face, asking her, “Mrs. Ellison, we’re all waiting. What’s your answer?”
Yvan wrapped his arms around Wren’s shoulders, his eyes shining with hope.
Wren blushed as she reached for the mic, her lips parting to speak.
That’s when my eyes locked with Yvan’s.
He froze, a name slipping out unintentionally. “Lucille…”
Just like that, the whole scene went quiet.
The fireworks above us might as well have been whispers.
All eyes were on him, and on me, the girl he could not look away from.
Wren glanced my way with one eyebrow quirked up. “And who might you be?”
Yvan’s face went through fifty shades of red as he licked his lips, trying to figure out his next move.
I smiled, feeling the weight of everyone’s stares, and said, “I’m Lucille Shaw, Mr. Ellison’s…”
Yvan was on edge, about to cut me off, but I finished with “Cousin.”
The tension in my clenched hand eased as the word hung in the air.
“My aunt sent me to check out the girl, make sure she’s as stunning as promised. Didn’t mean to give anyone a fright.”
Yvan’s face relaxed into a grateful smile, and he gave me a nod of approval.
He had always been clear about keeping my identity under wraps, and his mother was on the same page.
That’s why she had always insisted I call her ‘aunt’ whenever we were out.
Chapter 3
That ‘aunt’ I had been calling for the past five years was the perfect cover story, ready and waiting.
The fireworks show was not going to stop for me, and soon enough, I was forgotten.
However, then, as if on cue, the skies opened up, and it poured.
Yvan was quick to react. “Wren’s not well, she can’t be out in this rain, please step aside.”
He carefully guided Wren to the safety of the car.
There I was, left standing alone as the rain came down hard.
The cold should have cut right through me, but it did not.
Maybe it was the five years of marriage that had taught me how to weather any storm.
…
I got home and washed away the chill with a long, hot shower.
I stepped into the living room just in time to bump into Yvan.
He paused, then, to my surprise, he actually thanked me. “However, I still owe you one for bailing me out earlier.
“We’re… well, we’re secretly married. Blowing our cover right there would’ve been bad for Wren’s rep. I’ll find a way to go public with our things later on.”
I did not bother to tell him there was no ‘later on’ for us. Our marriage was pretty much over, and it seemed best to pretend it never happened, for both our sakes.
Then he remembered to ask about me. “However, hey, what were you doing there?”
I just smiled, watching him squirm for a bit before I answered. “Your assistant, Mr. Rogers, sent me.”
That was when he recalled the fireworks show he had promised me, the one he had forgotten because he was too caught up playing sweethearts with Wren.
“I’m so sorry, next week… I can’t next week. I’ve got a trip. How about next month? I’ll make it up to you, promise.”
I just shook my head. “We’ll see.”
Yvan seemed happy with my response and pulled me into a hug. It was the most distant hug I had ever felt.
He did go on that business trip, alright, and he took Wren with him.
They did all the things he would never do with me: romantic dinners, museum tours, and those seafood stalls he said were too low-class for a CEO like him. However, with Wren, he was just a regular guy, head over heels.
Three days left.
Yvan finally returned. I had not tried to reach him once while he was away.
He gazed at the pristine villa, and it was like he suddenly saw all the effort I had poured into our five-year marriage. “Honey, you’ve been amazing,” he said.
Five years, and I could not even recall the last time he had called me that.
“I wanted to take you to the fireworks show the day after tomorrow, but I’ve been swamped…”
I knew the truth. He just did not want to take me to the fireworks. Wren must have whispered something in his ear.
“Let’s just forget it.”
Yvan paused, taken aback, as if he had not expected me to give up so easily.
“You’re… okay with this?”
In the past, I would have lost it, demanding to know why he never kept his promises.
However, his empty words meant nothing to me. “It’s just fireworks. No big deal if we skip it.”
Just like Yvan himself, I could do without.
The silence stretched between us until Yvan broke it. “How about this? The day after tomorrow, I’ll take you to check out that villa on the west side of town. They say you can see floating candles on the lake from there, and it should be a great view.”
I glanced at my phone, the calendar reminding me that the day after tomorrow was Valentine’s Day.
Would he actually show up on such a significant day? He was probably just trying to smooth things over.
“Aren’t you supposed to be with Wren that day?”
Chapter 4
Yvan’s face tensed for a split second before he managed. “I’ve spent enough time with her. It’s your turn.”
The words hung awkwardly in the air, and he looked down, clearly feeling the weight of their absurdity.
I did not call him out on his lie. Instead, I played along with his act.
After all, that day was set to be our last as a married couple.
It had its own kind of significance.
…
The final day was ticking away.
Yvan had been a no-show since our last conversation.
He must have been busy keeping Wren calm.
However, at night, he would share the day’s random bits and pieces with me.
Celebrity rumors, a stray cat spotted on his walk, and the latest viral memes.
It was like we were any other long-distance couple, passing the time with chit-chat about nothing much at all.
Yet, after five years of marriage, Yvan and I had never really opened up about the stuff that mattered.
I could not figure out why he had started that out of the blue, and frankly, I did not care to.
I had been swamped with moving those last few days, shipping box after box to my new place in Cascade City.
I had even dealt with the realtors, leasing out a hundred properties I owned.
All that must have caught his attention because that night, he rang me up. “Heard from Mr. Rogers you’re moving?”
I answered without much thought, “Yeah, remember I mentioned heading to the west side of town? I’m fond of that area.”
Yvan hesitated, then offered, “You know, setting off fireworks there wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
I laughed it off. “No need. I’m good.”
He seemed to ease up. “Alright, then meet me there tomorrow night.”
I gave a noncommittal grunt, just as my phone buzzed with the confirmation of my flight booking.
However, Yvan, as if he had a sixth sense, insisted, “Make sure you wait for me.”
I agreed. “Sure.”
However, the following night, he was a no-show.
His assistant, Kent, sheepishly told me Yvan was tied up in a meeting and would be late.
However, there it was on social media: Wren setting floating candles adrift on a lake, with Yvan right there behind her.
I checked the time, my flight was in four hours.
The divorce papers would be final in two.
I doubt I’ll ever get to tell him the news face-to-face.
Three hours to go.
Here I am, standing in the villa Yvan gave me, gazing out at the river.
Candles drift on the water, heading out to sea. I wonder if he and Wren set one of those afloat.
His promise from yesterday makes me chuckle. If he knew that was my last time waiting for him to come through, would he rush back?
Back in my room, I glance at the petite suitcase in the living room. I owned very little.
Especially there.
That villa was his way of saying sorry for the hundredth time.
Somehow, leaving it behind felt right.
Two hours left, and my lawyer’s email pops up.
[Congratulations, Ms. Shaw, on your divorce. We’ll send the divorce papers over.]
With one hour to go, I held the papers in my hands.
It was official. My marriage had become history.
I grabbed my suitcase, ready to head out.
The highway to the airport was clogged.
In the car, I caught sight of Yvan speeding westward.
I looked away, knowing that brief crossing of paths was our goodbye.
However, Yvan slammed on his brakes and looked right at me…
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