Twelve Years a Tool, Now I'll Destroy Him

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I had been with Ethan for twelve years. I stood by him from nothing to the top of his business empire.

I thought I should have become his wife long ago.

But at Whitmore Corporation's twelve-year anniversary gala, he publicly proposed to Vivian in front of everyone.

My eyes turned red as I confronted him, demanding an explanation.

Ethan said coldly, "Vivian's body is fragile. She can't handle my needs. For the past twelve years, you were nothing more than a tool for my release. Now get lost."

So I was just a toy to warm his bed.

But I had been there for every step of his success. Staying up all night with him to negotiate deals. Even selling my design proposals to bail him out. Now it had all become the biggest joke.

I even had a miscarriage. Our first child. Because of overwork.

The security guards roughly dragged me out of the gala hall. I fell pathetically into the rain.

Trembling, I pulled out my phone and dialed that number. My voice was hoarse but resolute.

"I want Whitmore Corporation to go bankrupt. Immediately."

Lena POV

The twelve-year anniversary gala of Whitmore Corporation.

Lights blazed, guests dressed in finery. I wore the haute couture gown Ethan had personally selected for me, standing quietly on the second-floor terrace.

Everyone knew that billionaire Ethan Whitmore had cherished me for twelve years.

From the day ten-year-old me was brought back to Ethan's Manhattan villa, I became Ethan's untouchable treasure.

When I wanted to study architecture, he built me a private all-glass studio in the heart of Manhattan.

When I casually mentioned loving the plane trees in Paris, he could cancel billion-dollar meetings the very next day to fly me to Paris to feed the pigeons.

People in our circle were all saying that tonight at the gala, Ethan would officially propose to me.

I thought so too.

After twelve years together, I had long bound my life tightly to Ethan's. I loved him, to the bone.

"Now, I want to introduce someone very important to me."

In the first-floor hall, Ethan's deep, magnetic voice spread throughout the venue through the microphone.

My heartbeat skipped a beat. I lifted my dress, full of anticipation as I turned to go downstairs.

However, the spotlight didn't fall on me.

The beam of light followed someone in the corner of the hall. A girl in a pure white gauze dress with a fresh, water-like presence slowly walked onto the stage. Ethan naturally took her hand, his gaze filled with a tenderness I had never seen before.

"This is my fiance, Vivian."

Boom.

My mind felt like it had been struck by a heavy hammer, a sharp ringing in my ears. I froze at the landing of the stairs, the blood in my body completely freezing in that moment.

Fiance?

Then what was I? What did these twelve years of companionship mean?

Amid enthusiastic applause, Ethan led Vivian off the stage and came straight toward me.

He looked at my deathly pale face, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. "Lena, say hello to Vivian."

I bit down hard on my lower lip, tasting blood in my mouth. I looked at this man I had loved for twelve years, my voice shaking uncontrollably. "Ethan... you're joking, right?"

"How could Ethan joke about something like this?" Vivian affectionately looped her arm through Ethan's, looking at me with a smile.

"You must be Lena. Ethan often mentions you, says you're a genius architect. Perfect timing. Ethan and I haven't settled on a design for our wedding house yet. Could you help us design it?"

I found it utterly absurd.

She wanted me to personally design a wedding house for the man I loved deeply and another woman?

I looked at Ethan pleadingly, hoping he would refuse this cruel request.

But Ethan just looked at me coolly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "Vivian likes your design style. I'm comfortable leaving this to you."

In that instant, I heard the sound of my heart shattering.

"Fine." I forced out a smile uglier than crying. "I'll design it."

I turned and fled hastily, rushing into the restroom, frantically splashing cold water on my face.

My phone in my bag vibrated. It was Professor Miller calling.

"Lena, that three-year ancient architecture restoration and reconstruction project in Paris. I've kept a spot for you. How's your decision going? If you go, you probably won't be able to return to New York for three years."

Before, I had refused without hesitation because I couldn't bear to leave Ethan.

But now, looking at my wretched reflection in the mirror, I took a deep breath and slowly said. "Professor Miller, I'll go. Give me two weeks to wrap things up here."

After hanging up, I walked out of the restroom.

At the end of the hallway by the floor-to-ceiling windows, Ethan was draping his suit jacket over Vivian's shoulders, lowering his head to tenderly kiss away the champagne stain at the corner of her lips.

I quietly watched this scene, the light in my eyes extinguishing completely.

Lena POV

I don't know how I made it back to the Manhattan villa.

Everywhere held traces of my life with Ethan. The slippers by the door, side by side. The sofa I'd picked out. And that room on the second floor. The private architecture studio Ethan had spent a fortune building for my eighteenth birthday.

I pushed open the door and walked wearily upstairs.

However, when I reached the second floor, I froze.

The door to my treasured studio was wide open. Maids were going in and out, carrying my expensive German drafting table. My rare architecture books. Piles of drawings I'd poured my heart into.

Vivian stood in the middle of the room, wearing an oversized men's shirt. Ethan's shirt. She held a cup of hot milk, looking at me innocently.

"Oh, Lena, you're back. I'm so sorry. I had the maids clean the room today. These things looked old, so I thought they were trash you didn't want and had them thrown in the storage room. You're not upset with me, are you?"

"Stop!" My whole body trembled as I rushed over to block the maids. "Who gave you permission to touch my things?!"

Vivian jumped in fright, backing up a step, her eyes instantly reddening. "Lena, I'm sorry... I didn't know this was your room. Ethan said this room has the best lighting and is most suitable for my dance studio..."

"This is my studio!" I said, eyes red, like a small beast protecting its food.

"What's all this noise in the middle of the night?"

A deep, cold voice came from behind. Ethan strode upstairs, his brow furrowed.

Vivian immediately threw herself into his arms like a frightened rabbit, her voice choked. "Ethan, did I make Lena angry? I'm sorry, I don't want this room anymore. I'll move out tomorrow..."

"Nonsense." Ethan put his arm around her waist, patting her soothingly, then looked coldly at me. "Lena, Vivian is a professional dancer. She needs a practice room with good lighting and space. Can't you draw those plans of yours anywhere? Clear out the room for her."

I looked at him in disbelief.

"Ethan, have you forgotten how this studio came to be?" My voice trembled. "This was your eighteenth birthday gift to me! You said this was my exclusive space, that no one was allowed to touch it!"

A flash of discomfort crossed Ethan's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by coldness. "It's just a room. When did you become so selfish and petty? Vivian is my fiance, and this villa is mine. You're going to fight with her over these things?"

Selfish? Petty?

Looking at this familiar yet strange man before me, I suddenly felt utterly ridiculous.

He trampled on my heart's work to please another woman, then turned around and accused me of being selfish.

"Fine." I closed my eyes, swallowing the sourness in my throat. "I'll clear it out."

I turned around without looking at Ethan again, bending down to pick up the scattered drawings from the floor, one by one.

Ethan watched my thin, stubborn back, an inexplicable irritation flashing through his heart. He stepped forward, trying to pull me. "Let the maids clean up tomorrow. You should rest early."

"Don't touch me." I avoided his hand, my tone as calm as stagnant water. "Don't dirty your hands, and don't dirty my drawings."

Ethan's hand froze in midair, his expression instantly darkening. "Lena, do you have to speak to me with this strange attitude?"

"I wouldn't dare." I stood up holding the drawings. "I'm just clearing space for Vivian."

That night, I didn't sleep. I packed everything from the studio into boxes.

I was leaving in two weeks. I wouldn't leave any of these things behind.

Lena POV

The next day, I went to the architecture firm as usual.

My colleagues looked at me with sympathy and curiosity. News of what happened at last night's Whitmore Corporation gala had spread. Everyone knew that Lena, the girl Ethan Whitmore had held in the palm of his hand, was out.

I acted like nothing had happened, sitting at my desk organizing my resignation letter and handover documents.

At three in the afternoon, the firm's glass door was pushed open.

Ethan walked in wearing a tailored suit, his posture upright. He carried a box from that French patisserie in Manhattan that was hardest to get.

Before, he would personally queue up every month to buy me matcha mousse from this shop.

Colleagues exchanged glances, thinking Ethan had come to make up with me.

But the next second, Vivian emerged from behind Ethan.

Ethan opened the box and took out the only strawberry Napoleon inside, tenderly handing it to Vivian. "You said yesterday you wanted to try this place. See how it tastes."

Vivian smiled sweetly, accepting the pastry, then turned to look at me. "Lena, Ethan said you love the matcha mousse from this shop most. He brought some for you too. Let's all eat together."

I didn't even look up, staring at my computer screen. "No thanks. I've given up sweets."

Ethan's brow furrowed slightly as he placed the matcha mousse on my desk. "There's a limit to throwing tantrums. Vivian specially came with me to bring you afternoon tea, and you're showing attitude? To whom?"

My fingers paused on the keyboard.

I finally looked up, my gaze calm as I looked at Ethan. "Ethan, this is an office area. If you're here to show off your relationship, please go outside."

"You!" Ethan's anger flared at my cold attitude.

Just then, Vivian suddenly exclaimed. "Wow, this model is so beautiful!"

She walked to my desk and reached for the wooden architectural model inside the glass case.

This was my life's work from my university graduation, which had won the highest-level international architecture student award. Back then, to polish this model, Ethan had stayed up three all-nighters with me, his fingers cut by the carving knife.

"Don't touch it!" I shouted.

Vivian was startled by my voice, her hand shaking, her fingertips catching the edge of the glass case.

Crash.

A crisp sound.

The glass case along with the intricate wooden model inside smashed to the floor, instantly breaking into pieces, becoming a pile of scrap wood.

The entire office area fell deathly silent.

My breathing stopped. I looked at the pile of fragments on the floor, and the tightly wound string in my mind finally snapped.

I shot up from my seat and shoved Vivian aside. "I told you not to touch it, don't you understand?!"

Vivian, wearing high heels, fell straight onto the glass-covered floor from my push, her palm instantly cut, blood flowing freely.

"Ah! It hurts..." Vivian cried, her face covered in tears.

"Vivian!" Ethan's expression changed drastically. He rushed over and gathered Vivian into his arms. Seeing the blood on her hand, he turned to look at me with eyes as cold as ice.

"Lena! Have you lost your mind?!"

"It's just a broken model. Did you really need to be so violent?!"

Ethan's roar echoed through the office area.

I stood there, cold all over.

A broken model?

Years ago, when he held my hand and assembled these wooden pieces bit by bit, he said. "Lena, this is the first 'home' we've built together. I'll always treasure it as priceless."

Now, for another woman's sake, he degraded our past as worthless.

I watched Ethan protectively hold Vivian with heartache in his eyes, and suddenly I laughed.

I laughed until tears nearly came, but my voice was oddly calm. "Yeah, just a broken model. Ethan is so rich. How do you plan to compensate?"

Lena POV

Ethan was infuriated by my indifferent attitude. He sneered. "Fine, I'll compensate. Name your price. Whatever amount, I'll pay, just to buy your insanity today!"

I looked at him, the last trace of attachment in my eyes disappearing completely.

"One dollar."

Ethan froze, his brow knitting into a tight knot. "What did you say?"

"I said, pay me one dollar." I held his gaze, speaking slowly. "Ethan, send me one dollar. For this model. For these twelve years. Consider it even. From now on, we don't owe each other anything."

"Good. Very good." Ethan pulled out his phone through gritted teeth and transferred me one dollar on the spot. "Lena, remember what you said today. Don't come crying to me later!"

With that, he scooped up the injured Vivian and left the firm without looking back.

Looking at the one dollar that appeared on my phone screen, I didn't cry.

I crouched down, picked up the broom, and swept those fragments that carried my most beautiful youth, bit by bit, all into the trash can.

Just like sweeping away my twelve years of ridiculous one-sided love.

Returning to my seat, I typed the last word of my resignation letter on the computer and clicked send.

Then I called Professor Miller.

"Professor, I've booked my ticket. Ten days from now, I fly to Paris."

After hanging up, I looked at the overcast sky outside the window and let out a long breath.

Ten days.

Just endure ten more days, and I could completely leave this suffocating place, leave Ethan.

That evening, the sky opened up with pouring rain.

I returned to the Manhattan villa and had just reached the front gate when my steps abruptly halted.

Outside the villa, by the trash bins, my things lay scattered.

My custom-ordered German drafting board. Out-of-print architecture books. The markers and tools I'd treasured for years.

All of them soaked in muddy rainwater. Ruined beyond repair.

Vivian stood under the villa's eaves wearing a silk nightgown, holding a cup of hot milk, looking at me with an innocent expression.

"Oh my, Lena, you're back. I'm so sorry. I had the maids clean today. These things looked old, so I thought they were trash you didn't want and had them throw it out. You won't blame me, will you?"

I stood in the rain, icy water instantly soaking me through.

I didn't fly into a rage or rush up to question her. I just calmly walked over and searched through the muddy water.

The books were ruined. The markers were destroyed.

I opened a waterlogged sketch book. On the first page, in Ethan's bold handwriting, were the words. "To my genius little architect, may you soon build the world's number one skyscraper. Ethan"

I stared at those words, rain blurring my vision.

Expressionless, I tore the sketch book to shreds and threw it, along with those ruined tools, completely into the trash bin.

A black Maybach sped through the rain curtain, screeching to a stop at the villa entrance.

Ethan got out with a black umbrella, and seeing me soaked through in the rain, his brow furrowed instantly.

"What are you doing out here? Don't you know it's raining?" He strode over and grabbed my wrist, trying to pull me under the umbrella.

I forcefully shook off his hand.

"Don't touch me." My voice was colder than the autumn rain. "Ethan, don't dirty your designer suit."

Lena POV

Ethan's hand froze in midair. Looking at my lifeless eyes, panic flashed in his gaze.

He glanced at the things by the trash bin, his tone softening slightly. "They're just some rulers and drawing boards. Tomorrow I'll have someone buy you the most expensive set as compensation. Stop being stubborn with me out here and go inside to shower."

"No need." I walked past him straight into the villa.

I returned to my bedroom, pulled out my suitcase, and packed only a few changes of clothes and important documents.

When I came downstairs with my suitcase, Ethan and Vivian were sitting on the living room sofa.

Seeing the suitcase in my hand, Ethan shot to his feet, his expression livid. "What are you doing?"

"Moving out." My tone was flat. "Since there's no place for me here anymore, I won't stay and be an eyesore."

"Lena!" Ethan rushed over in a few strides, pressing down hard on my suitcase, gritting his teeth. "Try taking one step out that door! You're moving out over some broken junk?"

I lifted my head and looked directly into his furious eyes.

"Ethan, I'm not throwing a tantrum." I gently pushed his hand away. "I truly don't want you anymore."

I moved to a budget hotel near the architecture firm.

The room was small, without floor-to-ceiling windows or soft wool carpets, but it gave me an unprecedented sense of relief.

After Ethan discovered I had really moved out, he was completely enraged.

He thought I was just deliberately playing games, thought I wouldn't last three days before coming back crying to apologize. But for three whole days, I sent no word.

On the fourth day, Ethan's call came through.

I looked at the name flashing on the screen and pressed answer.

"Where are you?" The man's voice suppressed his anger. "Get back here right now."

"I'm drawing the design for your wedding house." I tapped on my keyboard while responding in a flat tone. "The hotel is quiet. Good for work."

"Lena, stop using work as an excuse!" Ethan laughed coldly. "You think moving out will make me soften? I'm telling you, if you don't come back today, don't ever come back!"

"Okay." I agreed without hesitation.

Dead silence fell on the other end of the line. Ethan seemed not to have expected such a straightforward answer, his breathing growing heavier.

"Lena, you've got some nerve. Do you believe that with one word from me, you won't be able to work anywhere in the architecture industry!"

"As you wish."

I hung up directly and put my phone on silent.

I looked at the 3D modeling on my computer screen that was nearly complete. This was an extremely luxurious villa, every detail designed according to Vivian's preferences. Ostentatious. Ornate. Without a trace of the minimalist style I once loved.

This was the last cage I would design for Ethan.

My phone screen lit up with an incoming message.

The sender was Vivian.

In the photo was a messy bed, Ethan's sleeping profile, and Vivian's arm draped across his chest.

The caption read. "Lena, Ethan says he loves my body the most. Every night he holds me and says I'm his only woman. As for you, you're just a pitiful orphan he kept out of sympathy. Stop clinging desperately."

Looking at this deliberately provocative photo, my heart was surprisingly calm.

No anger, no jealousy, only deep exhaustion and relief.

I casually took a screenshot and replied. "Wishing you happiness. He's all yours."

After sending this message, I exported the last rendering and packaged it into a compressed file.

Three days until my flight to Paris.

Lena POV

Day three.

I received a call from Ethan's mother demanding I attend Vivian's wedding dress fitting.

Since Ethan had supported me financially for years, I didn't refuse and took a cab to the most elite haute couture bridal shop in the city center.

Inside the shop, Vivian wore a diamond-encrusted train wedding dress, like a princess on high.

Ethan sat on the velvet sofa, gazing at her tenderly. That look had once belonged only to me.

Seeing me enter, Ethan's gaze instantly turned cold, with a punishing edge. "You actually showed up? I thought you'd hide in that dump of a hotel forever."

Ignoring his mockery, I walked straight to the coffee table, pulled out a USB drive from my bag, and placed it in front of him.

"This contains all the design plans and construction proposals for the wedding house. My work is complete."

Ethan looked at the USB drive, irritation suddenly surging in his chest. He stood up abruptly. "What do you mean? Hand over the designs and think you can leave?"

"Lena," Vivian lifted her skirt and walked over, saying sweetly, "the train on this wedding dress seems a bit long. Can you help me adjust it?"

She looked down at me from her elevated position, her eyes full of victor's pride.

I stood without moving.

Ethan spoke coldly. "Lena, help her. I've funded you all these years. Vivian is my fiance. Don't you understand basic courtesy?"

I looked at Ethan and suddenly laughed.

I obediently crouched down and reached to adjust the elaborate lace train.

Malice flashed in Vivian's eyes as her high heel deliberately stepped forward, the sharp heel aimed straight at the back of my hand.

I quickly pulled my hand back. Vivian stepped on nothing, her body tilting, nearly falling.

"Ah!" Vivian cried out, looking at Ethan aggrieved. "Ethan, Lena deliberately tripped me..."

Ethan caught Vivian, glaring at me furiously. "Lena, are you done yet?!"

I stood up, dusting off my hands, my gaze clear and cold.

"Ethan, I've submitted the designs. The day after tomorrow at the wedding, I will 'attend' on time."

I deliberately emphasized the word "attend."

Hearing me agree to attend the wedding, Ethan's expression eased slightly as he snorted coldly. "Smart of you. You're the girl I raised. You must be present to witness my wedding."

"Of course." I curved my lips into a smile devoid of warmth. "I will witness it."

I turned and walked out of the bridal shop, tossing that gold-embossed wedding invitation into a roadside trash bin.

October 28th.

Today was Ethan and Vivian's wedding of the century.

The ceremony was held at the most luxurious cathedral in downtown Manhattan. I knew that right now the venue must be decorated with tens of thousands of airlifted white roses, numerous guests, extremely extravagant.

But I didn't go.

I went to the international airport thirty kilometers away. In a simple trench coat, I wheeled my suitcase through security.

The airport announcement came on, a sweet female voice. "Passengers traveling to Paris, please note, your flight is now boarding..."

I pulled out my phone and looked at the dozens of missed calls from Ethan. Then I opened the message screen.

I typed out one last line:

"Ethan, happy wedding. That design is my final gift. From now on, we'll never meet again."

I hit send.

Then I blocked Ethan's number, popped out my SIM card, and tossed it into a nearby trash bin.

After that, I walked toward the boarding gate without looking back.