I Played the King’s Game Then I Divorced Him Chapter 01

I Played the King’s Game Then I Divorced Him Chapter 01

During a team-building retreat, my husband’s assistant suggested we play the King’s Game.

Everyone agreed without hesitation.

When the assistant won, she suddenly pointed at my husband and said:

“My command is for Sean and his wife to sleep in separate rooms for half a month.”

The private suite went silent instantly.

Everyone knew that Sean and I were married.

The group’s gaze shifted back and forth between the three of us.

My husband’s lips twitched into a smirk:

“Sure, why not? We’re a middle-aged couple; we’re sick of looking at each other anyway.”

“Claire, you’re not going to be a buzzkill, are you? It’s just team-building. Everyone’s happiness is what matters most.”

I smiled and nodded in agreement.

My husband froze.

……

“Claire is truly magnanimous, such a big heart,” Jade Jenkins said with a coy laugh.

I raised my glass and swirled it gently, the amber liquid refracting tiny specks of light under the chandeliers.

“It’s just a game. Why wouldn’t I play along?”

I took a sip of the drink, my gaze brushing over Sean Thompson’s sharp, well-defined face.

He was leaning toward Jade, whispering something to her.

The curve of his smile was familiar to me, yet it was one he hadn’t shown me in a very long time.

The atmosphere in the lounge warmed up again.

Some began clamoring for the next round, some stole glances at my expression, and most exchanged knowing looks.

In this industry,

everyone knew that Sean had personally hired Jade,

and everyone had caught glimpses of the two walking out of the office side-by-side after working late into the night.

“It’s settled then,” Jade said, holding up her phone,

“I’ll start the timer tonight. Half a month—not a single day less.”

“You’re certainly dedicated,” Sean glanced at her, his tone as intimate as breathing.

I set my glass down,

the crystal bottom making a sharp clink against the marble tabletop.

“Do I need to move into the guest room, or should I just stay at a hotel? We have three vacant properties anyway.”

Sean finally looked me in the eye, his brow furrowing as if I were saying something inappropriate.

“Do you have to talk about this right now?”

“Wasn’t this the game you agreed to?” I countered with a smile.

“I’m playing along to the very end.”

Jade squeezed between us, resting one hand on the back of Sean’s chair while giving me a thumbs-up with the other:

“Claire is so open-minded! Sean, you picked such a great wife. If it were me, I definitely couldn’t do it.”

“What couldn’t you do?” Sean glared at her. “He’s not your husband.”

“Not now, but in the future…”

“Jade!” Sean interrupted her, his eyes darting away guiltily.

I stood up and took my trench coat from the rack.

“You guys carry on. I’m heading back to pack.”

“So early?” someone tried to convince me to stay.

“I have to vacate the master bedroom,” I put on my coat, my voice flat.

“Sean is a light sleeper, and the guest room mattress is too firm. For the next half-month, I’ll stay at the apartment near the office. It’ll make the commute easier.”

Sean’s expression finally changed.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately just tilted his glass and drained it in one gulp.

As I reached the door, Jade chased after me and whispered:

“Claire, I was just joking. Don’t take it seriously. How about I apologize to Sean…”

“No need.” I looked at her, my gaze calm.

“It’s just a game. Everyone’s happiness is what matters most. Didn’t you say so yourself?”

She stood frozen in place as I pushed the door open and stepped into the hallway.

The late autumn wind gusted in through the window of the fire escape, carrying the cloying sweetness of osmanthus and a hint of something decaying.

As the elevator numbers ticked downward,

I pulled out my phone and sent a message to my lawyer:

“The materials I asked you to prepare—you can initiate the process now.”

The screen went dark, reflecting my expressionless face.

Half a month.

That was enough time for a person to get used to a life without someone else, and enough time for certain traces—ones thought to be well-hidden—to be exposed to the sunlight.

Sean had likely forgotten that the smart lock on that apartment was linked to my phone number.

Every time the door opened, a notification was pushed to me in real-time.

And over the past three months, his fingerprint unlock record had appeared twenty-seven times.

Always late at night.