On our third wedding anniversary, the nude oil painting my husband had personally painted for me was suddenly exposed online. In an instant, rumors about me spread like wildfire. Countless so-called "insiders" appeared online, one after another, all claiming they knew the truth. They swore I had once drunk with them, sung with them, and done all kinds of things I had never even heard of. Every single one of my social media accounts was flooded with disgusting, ridiculous, and vulgar comments. And my husband, Jeffrey Miller, the creator of that painting, wasn't by my side. He was staying with another woman. Because she had accidentally posted the painting online. She felt so guilty afterward that she became emotionally unstable and suffered an asthma attack, forcing her to be admitted to the hospital. Jeffrey was worried about her, so he had to stay by her side. I stared at the call screen as it automatically ended after no one answered. That was the 99th time I had called Jeffrey since everything happened. I took a deep breath and dialed another number. The person on the other end answered almost immediately. I spoke calmly, "William, withdraw the five hundred million investment we gave Jeffrey's company. And one more thing, I want a divorce."