?Chapter 1145:


    Haley stared at him for a beat—thenughed out loud, as though she had heard the most ridiculous joke of the century. “Marriage? Now you remember feelings? When I devoted everything to you, where was this devotion then? Marc, who do you think you are?”


    To her, he wasn’t a man. He was a stray dog begging for scraps.


    Hatred glimmered in her eyes. “Save your fake sincerity. The deal is done.”


    Three dayster, the Walsh Group was officially sold to the Cohen Group for one billion.


    The new owners immediately announced sweepingyoffs and theplete dismantling of thepany’s departments. Within a month, the once-dominant Walsh Group was reduced to ashes.


    Worse was yet toe. During post-acquisition audits, hidden debts surfaced—eighty million dors, all under Marc’s name.


    Collectors flooded in like wolves.


    Marc was forced to liquidate everything—his mansion, his sports cars, his luxury watches. Even Jazlyn’s treasured jewelry sets were auctioned off to cover the debt.


    Jazlyn clung to her jewelry box, crying and screaming, but Marc didn’t hesitate. He sold it all. The eighty million was barely covered.


    Afterward, Jazlyn refused to eat, protesting day and night.


    But without the mansion, she had nowhere to stay. Her so-called “high society friends” vanished overnight, blocking her calls and ignoring every message. She had fallen from grace, stripped of her status.


    And with nowhere else to go, she could only remain beside Marc—just as ruined as him.


    On their final day in the mansion, Marc and Jazlyn stood in the grand foyer with just two simple suitcases.


    Jazlyn refused to ept reality. Her voice was shrill and unforgiving.


    “This is all your fault! If you hadn’t married that wretched Ste, if you hadn’t messed around with Haley, would we be in this situation now?”


    Marc stayed silent. He turned toward the mansion he had called home for years. A heaviness pressed against his chest. Once, he had been the proud young master of the Walsh family.


    Now, he was worse off than when he first met Ste.


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    Back then, at least he had youth. He had hope.


    He nced at Jazlyn, who was still rattling off me like a broken recorder. Choosing not to argue, he spoke quietly.


    “We’ll stay in a hotel for now. I’ll think of a way to move you abroad.”


    Jazlyn’s temper red. “Who said I’m leaving? I’m not going abroad!”


    Marc’s patience thinned. “Do you have a better option?”


    Jazlyn fell silent, her re sharp enough to cut steel—but she had no answer.


    A few hourster, at the airport, right as they were about to board a flight to Asnain, a uniformed officer stepped in front of them with a stiff expression.


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