Polly's POV

The next morning, I began packing my things.

Everything I couldn’t take with me, I tossed straight into storage boxes or the trash with no hesitation.

I also took down the only family photo hanging in the living room, where I was the only one smiling.

Funny, isn’t it? Five years together, and this was the only photo we ever took as a family, one Sebastian only agreed to because my parents pressured him into it.

My mind drifted back to when it all began.

Back then, I had just been forced to give up on my dream. I figured if that was how life was going to be, I’d at least commit to the family. I had hope for the future.

“Polly, you're such a kind girl. I’m relieved knowing Christian has you to care for him.”

“Once I finish this race, I’ll give you the wedding of your dreams.”

I believed we could be happy, that I could be a good wife, a good mother. But looking at it now, I was just fooling myself.

“Where’s my warm milk?! Are you just going to stand there staring at that again? I told you I need hot milk every morning!”

Christian’s angry voice rang out behind me.

The maid tried to calm him gently, “Christian, please don’t be upset. Here’s your milk.”

But he shoved her aside and stormed over, snatching the family photo from my hands and smashing it onto the floor.

Glass shattered everywhere. The only family photo we had was now gone, just like this so-called family.

Even so, Christian didn’t care in the slightest. Instead, he glared at me and pointed his finger.

“I want you to make it! Why are you still mooching off my dad in this house, eating and sleeping here while doing absolutely nothing? That’s your job!”

I stared at him silently for a few seconds, then turned and walked into the kitchen.

I warmed the milk and handed it to him. He barely took a sip before he threw it on the floor.

Warm milk splashed all over my shoes, and shards of glass nicked my leg.

“It’s too hot!Do you want to burn me to death? You vicious woman” he snapped.

I knew he did it on purpose. He always did. For years, he never once accepted me. He never saw me as anything more than the help.

For five years, I treated him like he was my own. No matter how cruel he was, I never brought myself to hate him. But all I got in return was escalating abuse.

“What are you staring at? Don’t just stand there, clean it up!”

My fists clenched at my sides. I glanced at him but said nothing, turning to leave.

“Are you deaf?! I told you to clean it up!” he again shouted.

Before I could respond, Sebastian’s voice came from the front door. “What’s going on in here?”

I looked up and saw that he wasn’t alone.

He brought Adele back with him.

I quickly looked away, pretending I didn’t notice her, but Sebastian clearly wasn’t happy with my cold reaction.

He stepped in front of me, frowning. “There’s glass all over the floor. What if Christian steps on it and gets hurt?”

I let out a short, bitter laugh. “What now? Do you really think I’m the maid in this house?”

His face stiffened for a second. Then he frowned deeper. “All I asked was for you to clean the floor. Do you really need to act like this? You’re the only one in this house who does nothing all day. If you’re not cleaning it, should I be doing it?”

From behind him, Adele peeked her head out and knelt down playfully to pick up a shard.

“Let me, Sebastian,” she said sweetly. “Polly is your wife, after all. She may think of herself as an elegant lady.She’s far too refined for chores like this—oh!”

She yelped mid-sentence.

Her finger had been pricked by the glass. A tiny drop of blood welled up, very little, and it disappeared in an instant.

But Sebastian was very worried, rushed to her side, immediately grabbed her hand and placing it in his mouth, panicked.

“Polly should be doing this kind of work. Your hands are meant for racing, not cleaning the floor. If you get hurt, it will break my heart.”

His words stabbed into me like knives.

All my effort, everything I had done over the past five years, now looked like the biggest joke of all.

He didn’t even glance my way again. Instead, he held Adele’s hand as they walked to the master bedroom. Then he ordered the maid to bring her luggage upstairs.

“Adele has an important race coming up. She needs to rest well. Move out of the master bedroom and let her stay there. And make sure her meals are different every day—nutritious and well-balanced.”

It was like he was issuing orders to a servant. Like, I didn’t even have the right to say no.

As soon as Sebastian spoke, Christian ran over and wrapped his arms around Adele.

“Aunt, are you really going to stay with us for a few days? That’s awesome! I wish you were my mom. You could even teach me racing!”

The three of them, standing together like the perfect little family, made my chest ache.

Without a word, I turned and left the room. I hadn’t even made it far when there was a knock on my door.

Suppressing the irritation building inside me, I opened it.

“What do you want?”

My cold tone made Sebastian pause.

“I just want you to understand that Adele and I are just teacher and student. She has a rare talent for racing. I can’t just let that go to waste. I mean, I can’t exactly take you to the racetrack, can I? You don’t know the first thing about it. You’d just embarrass me.”

I didn’t expect him to come and explain himself. But I’d heard all of this before.

The very first time we argued about Adele, he said the same thing.

“You’re just a housewife. You wouldn’t understand the thrill of the race. Don’t twist our relationship with your dirty imagination.”

The memories hit like a thousand tiny bites, each one a sharp sting.

His words echoed in my mind like a broken record.

He reached for my hand, opened his mouth as if to say something.

But before he could speak, Adele’s voice rang out from the other room.

“Sebastian, this wedding dress is gorgeous! Can I have it? I want to wear it too!”

Polly's POV

“Sebastian, this wedding dress is stunning! Can I have it? I want to wear it too!” Adele’s voice rang out as she came bouncing down the stairs.

Sebastian didn’t even hesitate and said, “Polly, give the dress to Adele. She’s young and beautiful. She’ll look good in it. You, on the other hand, just shuffle around doing housework all day. You're already wrinkled face and out of shape, it won't suit you.”

Adele giggled sweetly. “You’re the best, Sebastian.”

That dress wasn’t just fabric to me. I’d spent five years designing and perfecting it for our wedding. Every stitch carried my love, my hope, my devotion. I couldn’t even blame Adele for liking it.

But when I looked at Sebastian through my tear-reddened eyes, his expression was cold.

“Don’t be stingy,” he said. “Just name your price.”

Five years of marriage built on servitude. Five years of being the live-in maid, whom no one respected. What was a wedding dress like that worth now?

Honestly, I didn’t care anymore.

The last time I didn’t give up my seat next to Sebastian on the Ferris wheel for Adele, I ended up tied to a seat and forced to go around all night long.

As I received a message, I glanced down at my phone.

[I submitted the entry form. I’ll come pick you up.]

I calmly unlocked the glass case holding the dress, opened it, and then walked back to the guest room without another word. I couldn’t stomach watching their disgusting flirting any longer.

That evening, I was reviewing race data from different clubs when there was a knock at my door. It was Adele.

I didn’t want to talk to her, so I went to shut the door, but she shoved it open with her hand.

She stood there, towering over me with a smug, crooked smile. “Haven’t seen you in a while. You’ve gotten better at playing your cards, haven’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said flatly. “I need to rest.”

But she just sneered and stepped closer, whispering in my ear, “I heard you can’t get pregnant. Ever.”

My fists clenched so tightly they shook. I bit my lip and glared at her, heart pounding.

She looked pleased, like she’d hit a nerve, exactly what she wanted.

“Wanna bet how long it’ll take me to get pregnant with Sebastian’s baby?” she smirked. “Oh, and guess where that veggie juice you drank three years ago came from?”

I shut my eyes, forcing back the fury. My voice trembled as I said, “Get out.”

Only then did she finally leave. But the moment she did, I collapsed against the door and slid to the floor.

I buried my face in my hands and started to sob because everything she said was true.

I would never be able to have children again.

The first time I got pregnant, I had a miscarriage after drinking the “vegetable juice” Sebastian brought home. The second time, I lost the baby after Christian smeared oil on the stairs and I fell down an entire flight.

I bit my lip hard, trying to stifle my cries, but the pain was everywhere. Tiny needles piercing through every inch of my skin, sinking deep into my bones.

The next morning, laughter in the backyard woke me.

I opened the window only to see Adele playing in the garden with Christian while Sebastian sat nearby, watching them with a soft smile.

Anyone looking at them would’ve thought they were a real family.

I closed the window, but their voices still came through like needles under my skin.

I grabbed my bag and headed out. I needed to finalize my racing license and entry documents.

But just as I stepped outside, Adele strolled over.

“You heading out?” she asked casually. “I’ve been craving the pastries from that shop in the north alley. Can you bring me some back?”

Then she added with a triumphant grin, “Thanks for the favor, Mrs. Trivett.”

She stressed the words 'Mrs. Trivett' like a slap to the face, looking me up and down with that same smugness.

I glanced at the red marks on her neck, proof of her night with Sebastian, and felt my fingers curl into fists. I couldn’t stand it, so I left without another word.

After I got everything sorted for the race, I wandered around aimlessly until nightfall before slowly making my way back.

I dropped the pastries on the coffee table and headed upstairs, hoping to avoid everyone.

But Sebastian’s voice cut through the silence behind me.

“You came back and didn’t even say hello?”

I ignored him.

But his tone cooled further. “Come here.”

I calmly slipped off my shoes and put them in the cabinet, my face unreadable.

“Polly,” he said, more sternly, “I don’t like repeating myself.”

Not wanting to start a fight right before leaving, I reluctantly sat beside him.

He frowned, studying my face. “Where have you been all day? You didn’t even make food for Adele or Christian. What kind of housewife can’t even manage the basics? We had to eat instant noodles because of that.”

“Nowhere in particular. Just wandered around,” I simply replied.

He seemed unsettled by my coldness. For a second, something flickered across his face.

He picked up a slice of carrot with his chopsticks and dropped it in my bowl. “You haven’t eaten, have you? Eat something before going back to your room.”

I looked at the carrot and let out a bitter laugh. “Sebastian, I’m allergic to carrots. I can’t eat them.”

He froze, clearly surprised. But before he could react, I pushed back my chair and walked out.

After my shower that night, I stepped out of the bathroom only to find Sebastian sitting on my bed, going through my laptop.

I swallowed the disgust rising in my throat and asked, “Do you need something?”

But he didn’t answer my question and just remarked, “Looks like you’ve cleared out a lot of your stuff from the room.”

My heart skipped a beat. Was he onto me? Was he going to ruin my escape?

“I just got bored,” I replied calmly. “Thought I’d change the decor.”

He nodded, seeming to believe it. But then he said something that made my stomach clench again.

“Someone messaged you just now, asking when you’ll be back on the racetrack.”

He got up and walked toward me, his voice low. “What racetrack? I don’t remember hearing about this.”

I cut him off before he could dig further. “It’s just some in-game chat about a virtual race. Don’t overthink it.”

He stared at me for a moment, like he couldn’t decide whether to believe me or not. But in the end, he dropped it.

I lay down on the bed, hoping he’d leave.

Instead, the next thing I felt was his arm sliding around my waist.

I gasped, immediately pushing him back with both hands.

His brows furrowed at my reaction, sharp and panicked.

I used to be the one who craved his affection, who clung to every little bit of warmth he offered. But what did I just do?

His breath was hot against my ear as he leaned closer.

But I couldn’t take it anymore and shoved him away, breathing heavily. “Sorry, I’m not feeling well tonight.”

Polly's POV

Sebastian looked stunned when I pushed him away, but after hearing my excuse, his expression finally softened.

“If that’s the case, then rest up. Adele and I probably won’t be home tomorrow night, so don’t worry about dinner.”

With that, he turned and left the room.

The next morning, I received a new message from that person.

[Are you ready? I’ll be there tonight.]

Reading it, I let out a quiet breath. It was probably the best thing I’d heard in days.

By lunchtime, it was just me and Christian at home. After he finished his soup, I glanced at his bowl.

“You want more?” I asked.

He licked his lips, gave me a sideways look, and snapped, “No!”

I looked away and responded with a simple, indifferent, “Okay.”

As I started clearing the dishes, he suddenly walked over and tugged at the hem of my shirt.

“Your food’s really good,” he mumbled, “but I still don’t agree to you being my mom. But I guess I’m okay with you staying in our house.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “As what? A maid?”

He hesitated, but then spat, “What else? My dad’s amazing. What makes someone like you think you’re good enough to marry him? Once my dad and Auntie Adele get married, you can keep living here as our maid. I’ve seen him secretly preparing the wedding. Auntie Adele is so pretty, and she even knows how to race. She’ll look like a real fairy in a wedding dress. Only she is good enough to be my mom.”

I had already decided to leave. But hearing that Sebastian was planning a wedding for Adele still stung.

I couldn’t help but remember how he used to hold my waist and say with that soft, loving voice, “You’re the most beautiful and kind girl I’ve ever met. You’ve given so much for this family. When the race is over, I promise I’ll give you a romantic wedding. You deserve it, my beautiful wife.”

So, when exactly did it all change? When did those sweet words turn into insults like housewife, washed-up, maid?

It wasn’t that he didn’t want a wedding. He just didn’t want one with me.

I shoved the ache in my chest aside and looked down at Christian.

“Don’t worry. This ordinary woman will be out of your sight very soon.”

That evening, while I was packing up the last of my things, a message from Sebastian popped up. No words. Just a location.

I frowned. I didn’t want to go. But part of me worried something might’ve actually happened, and I didn’t want anything messing up my escape so close to the finish line. So I called a cab.

It was pouring outside.

By the time I arrived, I was soaked through—clothes clinging to me, hair dripping, not a single dry patch on my body.

I pushed the door open, panting, only to have every head in the room snap toward me, then erupt into laughter.

“No way, she actually came? Damn, Sebastian, your maid’s really committed.”

“I thought ‘maid’ was a code name or something. But no, she actually looks like one!”

“Ugh, lame. I thought you meant the other kind of maid.”

Laughter echoed around me.

If I still didn’t understand what was going on, I’d be an idiot. I glanced at the mirror nearby.

The woman in the reflection looked pathetic—hair a mess, clothes soaked through, like she’d been fished out of a lake.

A dozen emotions hit me at once—shame, hurt, disappointment, rage.

And in the end, all I could do was let out a soft laugh.

I turned to Sebastian and asked calmly, “You happy now?”

Then I spun around and walked out without a second thought.

He caught up to me at the door, grabbing my wrist. “It was just a joke. Do you really have to act like this?”

I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to slap him.

Pulling my hand free, I said coldly, “The joke’s over. Can I leave now?”

Just then, Adele rushed over too, biting her lip and looking pitiful. “I’m so sorry, it was my idea. Don’t be mad at him, blame me. It was just a dumb game.”

I was about to respond when loud voices interrupted us.

I turned and saw a fight breaking out at a nearby restaurant. Someone shouted and suddenly flipped an entire table.

I stepped back to avoid the chaos, but Adele, who had followed me, grabbed my arm and shoved me forward.

My eyes widened as I watched a pot of boiling soup come flying straight at me.

Her voice rang in my ears like a curse as she said, “You never should’ve married Sebastian. I successfully killed your sister five years ago. So, there's no way I can't do the same thing to you.”

But in all the noise and confusion, no one else heard her.

Agonizing pain ripped through my body. Before I blacked out, the last thing I saw was Sebastian holding Adele tightly in his arms.