“I think I just have to kill her father,” Treston said, his tone disturbingly casual. “Then I can finally dispose of her.”

My body turned to ice.

I stood frozen just outside his office door, every breath caught in my throat. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My fingers clutched my bag so tightly I thought the straps would snap.

He wasn’t joking. He wasn’t angry.

He meant every word.

I thought that was the end of it—his cruelty. His audacity. But then he laughed again, voice thick with arrogance.

“She’s so damn stupid. Imagine thinking I was her savior. Me,” he scoffed. “The truth is, I’ve always been the villain. I’m the reason her family lost everything.”

My knees weakened. I had to press against the wall to stay upright.

He continued, voice lowering with pride, “Our companies were rivals, remember? And then when that merger was being discussed, everyone thought it was a win-win. But she wasn’t paying attention—too busy living in her little world, ignoring board meetings, pretending business didn’t concern her.”

I remembered that. I remembered hearing whispers about a partnership between our companies. I met Treston once during a corporate charity gala, and even then, something about him felt… dangerous. But I didn’t care about corporate politics. I left it to my father. He always said he’d protect me from that world.

Until he couldn’t anymore.

“Her father never saw it coming,” Treston said with a cruel chuckle. “I orchestrated the scam. The investor collapse. Everything. And when the crash came and the old man landed in that coma, all I had to do was act like a hero.”

Summer giggled. “And now she thinks you’re her only lifeline.”

“She was,” Treston said. “But now? I don’t need her anymore. I own everything. Their name. Their legacy. Her father’s treatment is just leverage until I’m done securing these final investors.”

Summer’s voice lowered. “What if she finds out the truth?”

Treston scoffed. “Even if she does, it’s too late. I already won. The company is mine. Her father is practically mine. What can she do?”

“And what about me?” Summer asked, sounding suddenly annoyed. “Why not divorce her already and marry me? Our son’s getting older. Don’t you want people to know he has a father?”

Treston kissed her. “Relax, babe. Just wait a little longer. Once I close this investor deal, I’ll get rid of her. I still need her name—for now. These investors still believe in her and her father. They’re the only ones who defended him after the scandal. But once they sign…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

He didn’t have to.

They laughed together.

And that was it.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t even feel anger. I felt emptiness.

The five years I gave him. The loyalty. The silence. The sacrifices. The marriage. It was never love. Never real. I was just part of his long con. A pawn.

I walked away from the door, heart hollow. I refused to cry again.

Later that afternoon, I visited my father.

I sat beside his hospital bed, gently holding his hand, and whispered, “I’m sorry, Papa… I should’ve listened to those board meetings. I should’ve asked you more questions. Maybe if I had, you wouldn’t be here. Maybe I could’ve stopped all of this before it happened.”

His chest rose and fell rhythmically, peacefully.

“I’m going to make things right,” I promised. “Even if I have to destroy everything to do it.”

As if on cue, my phone buzzed.

A message from Niccolo.

Everything is ready for you and your father. See you in three days. You’re finally mine now, Amber. There’s no way I’m letting go.

Niccolo. My sworn rival back in college. Ruthless. Brilliant. Obsessively interested in me. And the man I had called one week ago in desperation.

The man who had always told me that someday, I would need him. And now… I did.

I went home, still feeling like I was sleepwalking through a nightmare. But the nightmare wasn’t done with me yet.

Because there, in the living room, was Summer. And a child. A little boy, barely three. Running around the house like it was his own. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him. Summer once brought him over, casually saying, “He’s my friend’s son. I need to babysit him for a few days.”

And Treston… he’d started asking me to buy baby gifts a year ago.

“For a client,” he’d said. “I need to make a good impression on her son.”

I believed him. God, I was such a fool.

Summer had disappeared abroad three years ago—right after our wedding. When she returned a year later, she never talked about where she’d been. I never asked. I trusted her.

Now I knew. She had been carrying his child. And I had been buying gifts for their son.

My thoughts were spinning when the little boy ran through the hallway, knocking into the altar at the center of the living room.

The urn fell.

My mother’s urn.

Shattered.

My scream echoed through the house. “What the hell did you just do?!”

The child stared at me, confused, then started crying.

He ran—toward the stairs.

“Wait—no!”

Before I could catch him, his foot slipped. He tumbled, fast, his small body bouncing down the wooden steps with a sickening thud.

Everything went still. My breath caught. And all I could do was stare at the broken urn… and the child on the floor.

Joshua was safe. That was the only thing the doctors kept repeating—He’s fine. Just a few bruises. Nothing broken.

But no one asked if I was safe. Because I wasn’t.

Not when Treston stormed into the room like a hurricane ready to destroy what little I had left.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he shouted, slamming the door behind him. “You pushed a kid down the stairs?! Are you insane?!”

“I didn’t!” I cried, standing from the corner chair. “I swear—I didn’t push him! He broke the urn, I panicked, I shouted, but he ran! He slipped—I didn’t touch him!”

“Oh, so now it’s his fault?” Treston snarled. “A child?”

“I wasn’t thinking—I never wanted this! That urn was my mother’s. It shattered. I just—snapped. But I didn’t mean to scare him!”

“Your mother’s ashes?” he scoffed, stepping closer. “That’s what this is about? Newsflash, Amber—she’s dead. I should’ve thrown those ashes away the day we moved in.”

His words hit harder than any slap.

Treston’s face curled in disgust. “You know what? This is why you were never going to be a mother. You deserved to lose that child. Because you would’ve been a terrible mom.”

I gasped, the air fleeing my lungs. “Don’t—don’t say that. That baby—”

“Was never yours to keep,” he snapped. “You’re useless. Pathetic.”

Before I could even react, Summer entered the room like a scene from a perfectly rehearsed play.

“Don’t be too harsh on her,” she said sweetly, brushing past him. “Joshua’s okay now. And she’s still your wife. She said she didn’t mean it.”

Treston scoffed. “My wife? I regret marrying her. Every second. It should have been you. God, I was so wrong. So, she better start being a good one or her father might just stop breathing. You hear me, Amber?”

My hands were shaking as I clenched them at my sides. My mouth was dry.

“Apologize,” he growled.

I blinked. “To… Summer?”

“Yes,” he said, crossing his arms. “And kneel while you’re at it.”

“I—”

“Now.”

Not wanting to provoke him further—not wanting another threat aimed at my father—I dropped to my knees.

Summer walked toward me, knelt down with me, and smiled for the cameras in the hall that weren’t even there.

“It’s okay,” she said softly, crouching beside me with a fake smile. But then she leaned in, her voice turning into a venomous hiss. “You fcking btch. How dare you hurt my son. You’re jealous. Pathetic. Just like your mother.”

I tensed. Before I could even react, her hand shot out and shoved me—hard—right in the chest.

I was standing near the staircase, just like Joshua had been.

My foot missed a step.

My arms flailed, trying to grab the railing, but she was faster—she shoved me again with both hands, sending me backward.

“Die!” Summer screamed, her voice unhinged. “You deserve that for hurting my son!”

Pain flashed across my back as I tumbled.

I felt every step—sharp, unforgiving wood slamming against my spine, my shoulder, my legs.

My scream echoed through the corridor, loud and ragged. Everything twisted. Everything blurred.

A final crack of pain shot up my body as my head hit the last step.

And then—darkness.

I woke up to the sound of a machine beeping steadily beside me. Sterile lights. A pale ceiling. A dull ache pulsing through my entire leg.

The nurse walked in. Her eyes were kind, but her voice was distant. Professional.

“You’re in the hospital, Mrs. Villarez. You took a fall and broke your ankle. You’ll need a few weeks to heal.”

I blinked at her slowly. “Can I leave today?”

She frowned. “You should stay—at least until the swelling goes down. We can contact a family member if you’d like—”

“I don’t have any,” I said flatly. And I meant it.

“I’ll discharge myself by tomorrow. I’ve made arrangements.”

She tried to argue, but I’d already made up my mind. I’d be gone before anyone could drag me back in.

The next morning, I limped down the hallway with the aid of crutches, my body aching but my resolve stronger than ever.

Then I heard it.

A child’s laugh. I turned instinctively—and froze.

Joshua.

He ran straight into Treston’s arms, shouting, “Daddy!”

Treston crouched, scooped him up, laughing like the perfect father.

Behind them, Summer smiled, arms crossed like she had already won.

And she had.

I stood still. Unseen. Forgotten. Replaced.

Later that evening, I sat by the window of a nearby inn. My suitcase beside me, a file folder on my lap. My phone buzzed with a message from the lawyer.

“Divorce papers were successfully delivered to the Villarez estate. Only Treston’s signature is needed to finalize.”

I didn’t know what to expect when I returned to the Villarez estate. But I didn’t expect… this.

The house was buzzing with movement—renovation workers hammering, painting, rearranging furniture. The hallway smelled of paint and sawdust, and boxes littered the entrance. My boxes.

My belongings. Thrown out like garbage.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice stiff, already knowing I wouldn’t like the answer.

Treston appeared at the top of the stairs, sleeves rolled up like he was playing the role of a father settling into a domestic life.

“We’re converting your room,” he said plainly. “Joshua needs space. He and Summer are moving in here—for now.”

My heart clenched. “You’re—what?”

“And honestly,” he continued, descending the steps slowly, “this is all your fault anyway. You hurt Joshua. So, the least you can do is make space for him. Make it up to him and be thankful that Summer didn’t file a case for you after hurting Joshua.”

I wanted to scream, argue, throw everything back in his smug face. But I didn’t. I just stood there, absorbing the latest blow like a silent sponge. I wouldn’t let him see me break anymoret.

“I need you to sign something,” I said instead, pulling out a folder and handing it to him.

He raised a brow. “Can’t it wait? I don’t handle work inside this house.”

“It’s for the investment meeting tomorrow,” I said calmly. “It’s urgent.”

He scoffed and flipped the folder open carelessly, not even bothering to check the contents. “You better make sure everything goes as planned,” he said as he scribbled his signature. “Or else, I swear I’ll stop your father’s medication altogether.”

I didn’t respond.

What he didn’t know was that my father was already being transferred to another hospital under Niccolo’s name—and soon, he’d be out of Treston’s grasp for good.

Just then, Summer’s voice rang out from the kitchen as she came in holding grocery bags. “Babe, oh, I mean, Treston, I got everything! I even bought Joshua’s favorite snacks and yours too!”

Treston’s eyes shifted back to me. “Cook for us. And for Joshua.”

I blinked. “I still have to prepare the reports. You said it’s urgent—”

“I don’t care,” he snapped. “I’m telling you to cook. And be nice to Joshua. You owe him. You’ll be his nanny now. That’s your role in this house.”

It wasn’t a house anymore. It was a prison. One he built out of betrayal and kept decorating with my suffering.

Still, I went to the kitchen, dragging my steps as I began washing vegetables, chopping silently.

That’s when I felt it.

A sting. Salt thrown across my face, into my eyes, burning.

“Be gone!” Joshua screamed from behind me. “You don’t deserve to be here! You bitch!”

I stumbled back, gasping, blinking through the salt.

“Joshua!” I snapped, more in shock than anger.

But then I heard laughter.

Summer. Leaning against the counter with that wicked smile of hers.

“See?” she said sweetly. “Even our child doesn’t want you around. So… when will you finally leave?”

I didn’t give her the satisfaction of a reaction. I just wiped my face and whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ll be gone soon. You’ll never have to see me again.”

“Great,” she chirped. “Oh, by the way… I went ahead and donated the rest of your stuff. Honestly, I couldn’t stand it taking up space in our home. Most of it’s already burned.”

There was no more pretending now. No fake sympathy. No passive-aggressive smiles. For the first time, Summer didn’t even try to hide it.

She admitted it. Bluntly. Proudly.

And all I could do was stare.

I remembered how, not too long ago, I used to call her late at night, crying over Treston’s distance, his coldness. And she would listen. Tell me he was probably just stressed. That men in business were complicated.

I told her everything. Trusted her.

I remembered pouring my heart out while she sat beside me, offering comforting words… all while she was already stealing him from me.

Maybe it was my fault. Maybe it started the moment I let her into our lives—into his business. I thought I was helping her when I convinced Treston to give her a consulting job. I said she was smart, capable, loyal.

And she had thanked me. With betrayal.

I stiffened. “My things?”

She nodded, unfazed. “Yep. You can go check, if you want. Might still catch the flames.”

I ran. Out the back door, into the open yard where smoke curled from a large metal bin. I choked back a cry as I stepped closer.

My clothes. My journals. My framed photographs. Gone.

And there, at the center of it all—charred and broken—was the heirloom necklace my mother gave me before she died. Its clasp half-melted, the sapphire center shattered into glittering dust.

I dropped to my knees.

That necklace was the last piece of her I had. The last thing that smelled like her perfume. Felt like her love.

And Summer had destroyed it without a second thought.

I stood slowly, my breath ragged.

And I walked.

Straight back into the house. Summer was there, laughing at something Treston had said.

She turned to me with her perfect, mocking smile.

But before she could speak—

I slapped her.