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.