Chapter 1Married for Three Years, Now I Want a Divorce: Suddenly, a Pop-Up Message Appears—"Don’t Leave! Mr. White Is About to Break!

”Three years into my marriage to Nathan White, a "Divorce Compensation System" appeared in my life.

The premise was simple: if Nathan and I divorced within thirty days, I’d receive a $5 million payout.

It wasn’t that I needed the money—but who would turn down $5 million? Especially when this hollow, joyless marriage was as good as worthless.

So I drafted the divorce papers and handed them to Nathan.

He glared at me, his teeth clenched. “Claire, what kind of game are you playing now?”

I was ready to snap back at him, but before I could, strange floating messages appeared in my vision:

[Noooo! Mr. White hasn’t even confessed yet, and he’s already about to be dumped!]

[Don’t do it! Mr. White loves you! If you leave now, his heart will shatter into a million pieces!]

A compensation system and now… mysterious floating messages? Which one was I supposed to believe?

Nathan barely glanced at the divorce papers before grabbing his coat and storming out of the house.

The messages didn’t stop, though. They hovered in the air, taunting me. I waved my hand at them, trying to swat them away, but of course, I grabbed nothing but air.

[He’s heartbroken! Did you see his red-rimmed eyes?]

[Poor Mr. White. Three years and not a single word about his feelings. Give him another chance, Claire!]

Nathan and I had been married for three years, but it wasn’t a real marriage. We were like roommates, living under the same roof but with separate rooms and lives.

The marriage had been arranged. My parents’ company was in crisis, and they needed the White family’s financial support. Nathan’s mother adored me, so our families decided we should marry.

Nathan and I were rivals growing up—we fought about everything. But as reluctant partners in this arranged marriage, we’d settled into a sort of truce. We didn’t interfere in each other’s lives.

I thought we’d continue this way forever—until the divorce compensation system appeared.

The thought of walking away from this charade of a marriage with $5 million was too tempting to resist. That money could help ease my family’s financial burden, and Nathan and I could finally stop pretending to be a happy couple in front of everyone.

But Nathan didn’t take my divorce proposal seriously. He assumed it was some kind of prank. What a joke. I was nothing but sincere!

No matter. For $5 million, I’d figure out a way to convince him.

As I mulled over my next move, the floating messages kept distracting me.

Compared to the ridiculous idea that Nathan might have feelings for me, the system’s promise of a payout seemed far more believable.

Besides, Nathan’s first love, Ivy, had just returned to town. With her around, getting him to agree to a divorce should be a piece of cake.

After three years of putting up with this sham marriage, my freedom was finally within reach.

To celebrate, I called my best friend, Kelly, and invited her out to a bar.

“Wow, Claire,” Kelly teased over the deafening music, leaning in close so I could hear her. “Is this your way of saying you’re finally letting loose? Aren’t you worried Nathan will flip out?”

I smirked, glancing at the male model Kelly had brought along for the night. His physique was… impressive. I wondered if those chiseled abs were real.

“What’s there to worry about?” I said. “If all goes well, Nathan will set me free soon enough.”

Kelly’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Wait, are you saying Nathan actually agreed to a divorce?”

“Agree? What’s there to agree to?” I downed the drink handed to me by the model, the burning sensation making my eyes water. “There’s no love between us. This marriage was never real.”

Kelly looked like she was about to launch into one of her romantic fantasy rants, but I waved her off.

And then, once again, the floating messages appeared:

[You’re so wrong, Claire. Nathan doesn’t just care—he’s obsessed. He’d rather die than let you go.]

[You think you’re getting freedom? Think again. Divorce will hurt him more than death.]

[Wait, what?! You brought a male model to drink with? Nathan’s already on his way, knife in hand!]

I snorted. How ridiculous. As if Nathan cared. He was probably spending the evening with Ivy, reliving their glory days.

Everyone thought our marriage was perfect—that we were childhood sweethearts who’d grown into a love story for the ages.

Even Kelly, who devoured romance novels like they were candy, believed Nathan was secretly the cold, brooding type who loved me in his own twisted way.

But I knew better. Nathan and I were oil and water, forced together by circumstance. Nothing more.

In three years of marriage, the closest we’d come to physical affection was the occasional accidental brush of hands.

As the night wore on, the drinks kept coming, and my notoriously low alcohol tolerance caught up with me. Three drinks in, and the male model was spinning around me like a carousel.

“Hey, handsome,” I slurred, reaching out with a drunken grin. “Come here and let me feel those abs.”

The alcohol had made me bold, and honestly, who could blame me? Resisting temptation was hard when it came in six-foot-tall, eight-pack glory.

But just as my hand was about to land, someone grabbed my wrist.

“Claire,” a deep, familiar voice growled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I blinked, trying to focus on the figure in front of me. Through my drunken haze, I saw a face that looked alarmingly like Nathan’s.

“Kelly,” I giggled, turning to my friend. “Why does this guy look so much like Nathan? Did you hire a Nathan lookalike for me? Ha! Maybe I’ll take him home tonight…”