Chapter 2

On TikTok's trending list, the hashtag #Alex Is A Dog# had been stuck at the top for three whole days.

My private videos were viewed, commented on, and reposted by tens of millions.

I stared silently at the screen, my fingers mechanically scrolling.

After a long while, I took a deep breath and called my lawyer.

"Regarding the video infringement."

"Alex, I'm sorry."

The voice on the other end sounded a bit awkward: "Chloe said she's handling this herself and instructed us not to interfere."

"What does that mean?"

"It means we can't accept any of your requests."

I was silent for two seconds, then said calmly, "Okay, I understand."

I hung up and called three more law firms.

The same reply.

I sat on the couch, staring at the wedding photo on the coffee table.

In the picture, Chloe was nestled in my arms, smiling gently.

She'd said, "Alex, I'll love you forever."

Now, her way of loving me was to have my private videos plastered all over the internet.

At eleven PM, Chloe returned.

She saw me still on the couch, her brow furrowing slightly: "Not in bed yet?"

I didn't answer, just calmly asked:

"What are you planning to do about the videos?"

"The PR department is handling it," she said, taking off her coat, her tone casual.

"How are they handling it?"

"I'll issue a statement saying the videos are AI-generated," she said dismissively, "then get some influencer accounts to clarify, and in a few days, no one will remember."

I looked at her and suddenly laughed: "That's your solution?"

"What else?" she frowned. "What more do you want? It's just a few videos, right? Didn't you enjoy playing around in them?"

"What do I want?" I repeated softly. "I want Liam to delete the videos and issue a public apology. I want you to give me back my $5 million!"

Chloe's face instantly darkened: "Alex, don't push your luck."

"Push my luck?"

I stared at her, suddenly finding it laughable.

Three years of marriage, over a thousand days and nights of what I thought was intimacy.

She never saved our memories; she saved her trophies.

"Chloe," my voice trembled with anger, "do you know? What disgusts me most isn't that my private videos were seen."

She frowned, a flicker of impatience in her eyes: "What are you trying to start now?"

I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to slap her:

"What disgusts me most is that I'm only now seeing your true colors!"

With that, I kicked the bedroom door and turned towards my study.

Before I closed the door, her furious shout came from behind: "Alex! Stop right there!"

I didn't look back.

The moment I locked the door, I pounded the wall, venting my rage.

Then, I opened my phone's photo album and scrolled to the very bottom.

There was an encrypted folder containing photos of Chloe proposing to me.

I gently brushed the screen, then deleted them one by one.

When I reached the last one, my finger paused.

It was our wedding photo.

I was in a suit, she in a white gown, standing at the church entrance.

She'd said, "Alex, you look so handsome."

I pressed delete, and the wedding photo vanished from the screen.