Yvonne stood in all black, cradling an urn in her arms, eyes filled with sorrow.

Next to her, James gave instructions to three bodyguards as they dug into the empty burial plot to the left of my mother's grave.

They did not see me walking up.

Soon, the bodyguards had dug a deep hole.

Yvonne knelt down and gently placed the urn inside, choking back tears.

"Rest in peace, Ball."

My head pounded as I marched forward and slapped her across the face.

"Who permitted you to use that plot?!"

She turned, startled, her expression a mix of shock and hurt.

"I—" she stammered.

I clenched my jaw and slapped her harder. "Take that urn and get it the hell out of here. Now!"

I rarely lost my temper in public.

I paid a fortune to purchase the two empty plots beside hers—one for my dad, the other for me.

It was her last wish, to have our family of three buried side by side.

It was totally nonsense that Yvonne tried to bury her dog here.

Yvonne's cheeks turned red, and she leaned against James, tears brimming.

"James, she hit me—" she whimpered.

James' face darkened. Clearly, he had not expected me to show up.

He stepped back slightly, putting space between himself and Yvonne. "Michelle, please calm down. Let me explain."

He reached out to touch me, but Yvonne quickly stepped between us.

Yvonne looked up at him innocently, tears running down her swollen cheeks. James swallowed whatever scolding he had been about to give her.

"Michelle, listen to me. I can explain."

I stared at him coldly.

"Shut up. Just tell her to take that dog's urn and leave."

James sighed. "She didn't mean any harm, she just wanted the dog to rest in peace. She promised not to put up a tombstone. Maybe we can just—"

"No. Not happening." I was shaking with rage. "My mother hated dogs, you know that. If the dog is buried here, I swear we're getting a divorce today.

"My mom would never have accepted a son-in-law like you. Don't forget how good she was to you when she was alive."

It was the first time I had ever brought up divorce. James' expression turned grim.

"Michelle—"

Yvonne suddenly burst into loud sobs.

"I've heard about you, Michelle," she sniffled. "I get that you're in a bad mood, but we could've handled it quietly. Stop being stubborn.

"Just yell at me if you just need to yell at someone. I hate seeing James so torn up—"

My eyes narrowed. "You asked for it."

I grabbed her hair and dragged her to the edge of the hole the guards had just dug. Then I kicked her hard, forcing her to her knees.

She cried louder, pitiful and dramatic.

I did not even blink.

"Pick up that urn. Go to my mother's grave. Kneel. Apologize. Or I will rip your face off."

Yvonne trembled. She reached the urn and looked up at James, eyes full of silent pleading.

His face darkened even more.

"Enough," he said. "The urn isn't even buried yet. It's going too far to force her to kneel and apologize."

My heart pounded.

"Am I? There are many cemeteries out there, but why my mother's? She's desecrating my mother's peace. What the hell do you think she's trying to do?"

Yvonne sobbed harder and said, "Michelle, please don't yell at James. I'll kneel."

She started to move, but James held her back, gently taking the urn from her. "You don't have to kneel. I'll take you somewhere else to bury Ball."

The two of them turned and walked away, leaving me behind like I was the one who had done something wrong.

I let out a bitter laugh and turned to the bodyguards.

"Fill the hole back up."

Just then, something caught my eye.

The empty plot on the other side of my mother's grave—the one I had also bought, had a brand new tombstone.