Rebel Wife, Submissive Ex-Husband

Late at night, at the Carter family villa.

Two intertwined figures moved from the balcony to the bathroom.

Two hours later.

After a passionate encounter, the room was still filled with a steamy heat.

Celeste was exhausted, barely wanting to move, but she was happy. She reached out to embrace Mason's waist. "Mason, today is our third wedding anniversary. Your mom has been urging us to have a baby."

Mason Carter got up coldly, dressing himself. "I don't like kids."

Celeste's face fell, but she mustered the courage to speak. "Honey, can you stay with me tonight? I want to..."

Before she could finish, Mason's phone rang.

He picked it up, his expression changing at the caller ID.

"Annie, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice softening.

Celeste rarely heard Mason speak so gently, and it was to another woman.

"You fell down? How careless."

"Okay, I'll be right there." Mason's voice was tinged with urgency.

Hanging up, he headed straight for the door, not sparing Celeste a glance.

Celeste grabbed his arm. "It's so late, do you have to go out?"

"Annie fell and hurt her leg. I need to check on her," Mason said flatly, already halfway out the door.

Annie Winter, the sister of Mason's first love.

Celeste watched the door close, suddenly laughing to herself.

She had been sick with a cold, feeling unwell. During the day, she had gotten into a minor car accident while taking Mason's mother home, injuring her arm. Mason hadn't even asked about it.

She wasn't just less important than Mason's first love, she wasn't even as important as her sister.

Years of effort had exhausted her. She lay in bed, not knowing when she fell asleep. When Celeste woke up, it was already the next day.

She didn't notice it before, but after a night's sleep, her arm hurt badly. It seemed like the muscle was injured, likely worsened by Mason's treatment the previous night.

Downstairs, the table was still set with the dinner she had prepared. Mason had come back past midnight, and now it was just leftovers.

The housekeeper saw Celeste heading out. "Madam, are you going out? Mr. Carter's clothes from last night haven't been washed."

Celeste ignored her, calling for the driver to take her to the hospital.

At the hospital, Celeste had her arm examined. The diagnosis was soft tissue contusion with a minor fracture. She was advised not to lift heavy objects for a while.

After getting her medication, Celeste was about to leave when she saw a familiar car at the entrance.

Sure enough, Mason got out of the car.

"Mason..." Celeste started to call out but stopped when she saw him open the door for another woman, carefully helping her out.

It was Annie, the woman who had called him away last night.

Celeste thought Mason had come to the hospital for her, but he was there for someone else.

They didn't go to the emergency room but headed straight upstairs, apparently having made an appointment.

Celeste followed and looked up at the sign: Obstetrics and Gynecology.

Her heart sank, feeling as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over her, completely waking her up.

Mason had said Annie fell and hurt her leg. Why was she at the Obstetrics and Gynecology department?

There was only one explanation—Annie was pregnant.

Clenching her medication, Celeste realized the truth. She took out her phone and snapped a photo of the two, gathering evidence.

Mason came home close to one in the morning. As usual, Celeste was sitting in the downstairs living room.

This was her habit. No matter how late it was, she wanted to wait for him.

Mason walked in, frowning at the clothes he had left. "Celeste, Mom said you were supposed to deliver something to her. Why didn't you go?"

"Am I your errand girl? Why should I deliver anything?" Celeste looked at him with a cold expression, feeling more clear-headed than ever.

All these years, she had been Mason's personal servant, someone the Carter family could order around.

He started up the stairs. "I don't have time to argue with you."

"Stop!" Celeste called out, throwing a document at him. "Sign this."

Mason didn't know what she was up to. When he saw the bold letters "Divorce Agreement" on the document, he was stunned.

Celeste wanted a divorce?

Before Mason Carter could say anything, Celeste said, "You cheated during our marriage. You're at fault. We'll split the assets 80-20, with you getting the 20."

"Who's getting 20?"

Mason was stunned by her audacity, how dare she?

"Consider it my generosity for not kicking you out with nothing, Mason. Don't push your luck."

Mason's temples throbbed. Who was pushing their luck here?

Celeste opened her phone and placed it on the coffee table, displaying some photos. "Impressive, Mason. Your mom wanted a grandchild yesterday, and it looks like she'll get one soon."

"You followed me?" Mason's eyes turned sharp as he looked at the photos.

"Does it matter? Is Annie not pregnant?" Celeste met his gaze head-on.

Mason was speechless.

"The child isn't..." He trailed off.

"Isn't what? Are you going to claim the child isn't yours?" Celeste laughed coldly. "Are you such a saint? Running around to care for a child that isn't yours? Do you love playing the stepfather?"

"Celeste, don't go too far!" Mason showed signs of anger.

In the past, Celeste wouldn't have argued with Mason. She loved him and would accept whatever he said.

But today, she realized how foolish she had been.

She could never be the woman in Mason's heart. So why not lash out and express her frustration?

"Mason, I underestimated you. You should've been born in ancient times, collecting sisters as your concubines. Go on and keep being a lackey for them. I'm done!"

With that, Celeste stood up. "Sign the papers. I'll have someone come to collect them."

Celeste grabbed her suitcase and left the villa without looking back.

Mason looked at the divorce agreement in his hand, unsure what to be angry about first.

Nearby, a housekeeper who had been awake was clearly frightened by the scene.

"Did she go to the hospital today?" Mason asked the housekeeper.

"Yes, sir. It seems Madam's arm is slightly fractured," the housekeeper replied.

Mason was taken aback. Celeste's arm was fractured? Since when?

No wonder she was throwing a tantrum. Did she think he didn't care about her?

Mason opened his phone and saw a complaint from his mother. He sended, "Mom, I've told you before, stop asking Celeste to do these things. She's my wife, not a maid."

Mason didn't know what had happened to Celeste's arm. He rushed to the door and saw a black luxury car parked outside.

A tall man was opening the door for Celeste, even helping her with her suitcase. They seemed to be chatting and laughing.

Mason remembered that Celeste had always been a housewife since their marriage, managing the household. When had she met this man?

Was he an overly attentive rideshare driver?

Mason watched as the car drove away.

She claimed to love him, but maybe she had someone else in her heart. When she got drunk, she clung to his neck, called him "sweetie", but mumbled another man's name.

...

Mason didn't contact Celeste in the following days. The next day, he flew abroad for a week-long business trip.

He thought giving her some cold shoulder time would make her come back.

When his plane landed, it was still early. His good friend Ethan called him out for drinks, but Mason declined.

The business trip had been tiring. Celeste's massages were better than any professional's. He wanted to go home and have her work on his muscles, knowing he'd feel rejuvenated the next day.

The villa was large, but there weren't many servants. Mason didn't like too many people around, so after Celeste moved in, they only kept the butler and a few housekeepers.

Celeste took care of his daily needs. He didn't like others touching his things, so the servants never meddled with his belongings.

Mason entered the house, finding it unusually quiet. He looked around and saw that the woman who was usually in the living room wasn't there.

Even his suit was still draped over a chair.

Celeste wasn't home?

He went downstairs and asked a housekeeper, "Where's Celeste? Did she go out?"

The housekeeper hesitated. "Sir, Madam hasn't come back since your argument."

Mason froze. What?

What was Celeste up to? Was she really throwing a childish tantrum, not returning for so long?

How was her arm? Had she seen a doctor for it?

His thoughts were interrupted when his eyes landed on the divorce agreement. It was still there, gathering dust. None of the servants dared to touch it.