After remarrying , Dominic Devereaux was sleeping with another woman again. When his mistress Camila Rivera threw a torn pair of stockings at Luna Alpha in open provocation, she didn’t do what she used to—she didn’t turn the whole Upper East Side of New York upside down. She didn’t cry. She didn’t force Dominic into choosing. She just silently picked up the dirty bedsheet and walked into the bathroom. “Next time, just go to a hotel. This stuff is hard to wash.” The woman on the bed froze. At dawn, photos of Dominic kissing his mistress at an exclusive members-only nightclub in Chelsea were leaked by entertainment media. The entire Wall Street circle was waiting to see Luna become a joke. Instead, she paid a premium price to suppress every trending topic and news push. After that, whether it was Victoria’s Secret supermodels or European socialites, she handled each situation neatly and politely. Until the eighth woman showed up. Dominic finally snapped. He shredded a check and grabbed her arm tightly, questioning her. “Luna, where did your pride go? Your temper? You’re really this indifferent, watching me entangle with other women?” He sounded close to breaking down. “If it were the Luna from eight years ago, she would never be this cold!” She smiled faintly. “Don’t make a scene. I’ll warm you a glass of milk. Drink it and rest early.” Dominic didn’t know the divorce papers were one final step away. In seven days, she would receive all shares of Devereux International and fly to Paris.