Just as the words left Ylona's mouth, a familiar voice rang out behind her.

“What evidence? What are you doing?”

It was Cyrus.

Ylona quickly suppressed her emotions and turned around, her tone was calm and indifferent as she replied, “Nothing. You must've misheard.”

In the past, Cyrus would've questioned her thoroughly. But now, his heart was entirely with Rylee—he didn't care what Ylona was doing anymore.

He glanced around the room, frowning.

“Where's Cedric? You two have been fighting for over a day—haven't you had enough?”

Ylona lifted her eyes and stared at him, trying to understand what his heart was made of—how it could be so cold.

This man had strapped a bomb to his own son, just to protect his mistress. And now he dared to call it “just a fight”?

Her lips parted. She wanted to tell him the truth—that Cedric was dead. That the bomb he had placed had taken their child's life.

But before she could speak, Rylee walked up from behind and naturally wrapped her arm around Cyrus'.

She clung to him, putting on a frightened act.

“Cyrus, I get so scared when I see my sister now... what if she tries to send me away again?”

Instantly, Cyrus' face darkened.

“Ylona, apologize to Rylee, and promise you'll never pull something like that again.”

Beside him, Rylee smirked at Ylona with a smug look of triumph.

Ylona clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white. She knew this was all part of Rylee's scheme.

She looked Cyrus straight in the eye and said coldly, “I didn't do it, so why should I apologize?”

Apologize to the woman who ruined her marriage and destroyed her family?

Never.

Rylee shrank back behind Cyrus, pretending to be weak and gentle.

“Let it go, Cyrus. Whatever my sister says, let's just go along with it. After all, we're family.”

“She might be cruel to me, but I can't be heartless to my own sister.”

Cyrus gazed at her tenderly, as if her false compassion moved him.

“Don't worry, Rylee. From now on, no one will ever bully you—not even Ylona.”

For a moment, Ylona could hear echoes of the promises he used to make to her.

“Ylona, marry me. I'll never let anyone hurt you.”

And yet now, that same man stood with another woman—mocking and humiliating her, the mother of his children.

Her knees weakened beneath her, and she nearly collapsed.

Just then, a child's voice called from inside the house.

“Daddy! Come play toys with me!”

Cyrus' gaze softened. He whispered something to Rylee and went inside with a smile.

Ylona let out a bitter laugh.

How ironic.

When Cedric was alive, he would often ask his father to play with him too. But every time, Cyrus would reply coldly, “Daddy is busy. I don't have time.”

Yet now, he was full of patience for the child of his mistress.

After Cyrus disappeared into the house, Rylee finally dropped the act.

Her lips curved into a mocking grin, and she taunted, “I told you—whatever I set my sights on becomes mine. No one can take it from me.”

Shrugging her shoulders, she nonchalantly continued, “Honestly, I didn't expect much. I just played a little trick and went on a trip... and Cyrus actually ended up tying a bomb to your child.”

She stepped forward, grabbed Ylona by the hair, and forced her to look into the window—at the warm family scene inside.

“See that? Cyrus only cares about us. You're the real mistress in this relationship.”

She tightened her grip and sneered. “He loves me that much—and you're still clinging to him like a dog. Aren't you ashamed?”

Ylona's eyes blazed with fury. “Ashamed? The one who should be ashamed is you. You and your mother really are cut from the same cloth—professional homewreckers.”

Rylee's expression froze. But then she laughed coldly.

“Fine, say you're not the mistress. So what? You still couldn't even protect your own child.”

“I heard it was a sea of red when your son died. You watched him die right in front of you. Tell me, how did that feel?”

Ylona snapped.

They could insult her all they want, but never ever her child.

She raised her hand to slap her—but before she could bring it down, Rylee scoffed victoriously. Then Cyrus stormed back in, grabbing Ylona's wrist and shoving her hard.

“Ylona! How dare you lay a hand on Rylee in front of me!”

Ylona was slammed hard to the floor, her elbow scraping against shattered glass. Pain seared through her arm, and her brows knit tightly together.

A cold laugh echoed in her chest.

Rylee had a venomous tongue—and the moment Ylona tried to fight back, Cyrus rushed to her defense without hesitation.

Yet when their son was crying and begging for help with a bomb strapped to his body, that same man didn't lift a finger.

Now, he stood above her, looking down with icy disdain. “I was going to let you go. But since you don't know your place, it's time you learned a lesson.”

“Maybe next time you'll think twice before bullying Rylee.”

Ylona let out a sharp, mocking laugh and met his gaze.“What exactly did I do to her?”

Since childhood, Rylee had always been the best at playing the victim—always pretending to be weak and innocent after provoking others first.

Yet her father and Cyrus fell for the act every single time.

Ignoring Ylona's explanation, Cyrus barked at the servants, “Lock her in the basement. Don't let her come out unless I say so.”

And just like that, she was imprisoned—for three days.

No matter how she screamed or cried, no one came. Once a day, they would slide in a plate of stale food at night.

She knew this was Rylee's doing—and Cyrus was letting her get away with it.

On the third day, her phone rang endlessly—dozens of calls, all from the crematorium.

But the basement had poor reception. Even when she answered, they couldn't hear her voice.

One message after another came in.

[Miss Alvarez, your son Cedric is scheduled for cremation soon. Please come to the crematorium to send him off.]

[Two hours left until the scheduled time...]

[One hour remaining.]

Ylona went mad, pounding on the door, screaming until her voice was hoarse.

“Cyrus! isn’t this what you wanted? To crush my pride and force me to bow? Fine. I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please... just let me out!”

She cried for an hour straight, but no one answered. Not even the servants.

She tried to send out a message for help, but the signal was too weak. Nothing went through.

An our later, one final message arrived.

[Miss Alvarez, your child's cremation is complete. Please come to retrieve the ashes.]

Each notification shattered something inside her. Her heart went numb.

Staring at the photos of Cedric and Arden on her phone, the dam finally broke. Tears flooded her cheeks.

She could still hear Cyrus' voice from the past, full of tenderness and promises.

“Ylona, we're a family—a family of four. I'll always be your rock and our children's protector.”

Ylona let out a hollow, bitter laugh as she shook her head.

“Cyrus... the children are gone. So is the love. Everything we once had is gone.”

The emotional toll was too much. She fainted, collapsing in the basement. It wasn't until a servant came to deliver food that she was discovered and finally released.

As the evening set in, Ylona woke up. Realizing she was free, she didn't even stop to put on shoes—she ran barefoot to the crematorium.

—

Meanwhile, Cyrus had just returned home. When he heard she had fainted, a flicker of concern flitted through his eyes. He went to check on her only to find her room empty.

“Hah. I knew it. There's no way someone as healthy as her would just faint. It was all just another act,” he snickered.

Beside him, Rylee stoked the flames. “Ylona has always been good at pretending. It's no surprise she fooled the servants too.”

“But she's already been locked up for three days. That's enough. After all, she's still my sister. Even if she wronged me, I won't hold it against her.”

Compared to Rylee's kindness, Ylona seemed more and more unreasonable in Cyrus' eyes.

But then, at around eleven that night—Ylona returned.

Barefoot, with her hair in disarray, she held a small urn in her arms as she walked back into the villa.

Cyrus was downstairs working. The moment he saw her, something stirred in his chest—but it quickly turned to irritation.

“So you pretended to faint just to sneak out and grab a box of ashes?”

“You really are that vicious—just waiting for something bad to happen to Rylee, aren't you?”

Ylona's mind was buzzing. She couldn't help but laugh.

He hadn't even asked whose ashes she was holding—he simply condemned her on the spot.

Even if she told him it was their child—that Cedric's ashes were inside this very urn—he wouldn't believe her.

She was tired.

All she wanted now was to wait for the right moment, take her child, and leave this man forever.

She said nothing and turned to head upstairs.

Cyrus frowned and stepped in front of her.

“There's an auction in Los Angeles tomorrow. You're coming with me.”

Once, Ylona would've been happy to attend those events with him. It was his way of showing her off, of proving she mattered.

But now?

She no longer wanted anything to do with him.

“I'm not going.” Her voice was quiet and drained.

Cyrus' expression instantly darkened. He grabbed her wrist tightly and threatened, “If you don't go, I'll throw that urn away.”

Ylona's eyes were bloodshot, her face pale.

She knew Cyrus was capable of doing exactly what he threatened.

Right now, she was still under the Warner family's roof. She had no power to resist him—so she gave in, her voice was flat with resignation.

“Fine. I'll go.”

She lifted her gaze and looked at him coldly. Deep inside, she told herself, 'Cyrus, this will be the last time I ever attend something like this with you.'

...

The next day, at the auction venue, the hall buzzed with luxury and noise.

Ylona's father, Arnold had also arrived, but he didn't come alone—beside him was Maggie, Rylee's mother.

And beside Cyrus?

Rylee, of course.

Arnold scowled when he saw Ylona. “I heard you were the one who sent Rylee away last time? Good thing she was found—if anything had happened to her, I'd have held you responsible!”

“You ought to thank your mother and Rylee. If they hadn't pleaded on your behalf, I wouldn't have let this go so easily!”

Ylona's expression remained indifferent. She had long since given up hope on this so-called father.

“My mother is dead. I don't have a living one.”

She would never accept a mistress as her mother.

Besides, the whole "Rylee disappearing" incident had been a scripted farce—orchestrated by that mother-daughter duo.

Maggie looked at her with a show of heartache. “Ylona, I know you don't like me, but you shouldn't speak to your father like that.”

Arnold's face turned crimson with rage, and he raised his hand to strike her—but Cyrus caught his arm just in time.

“Father-in-law, please. This is a public auction. Too many eyes are watching—let's not air our family's dirty laundry.”

Ylona scoffed inwardly.

Dirty laundry? Yet they had no problem flaunting their mistresses in public.

Soon, the auction began, and everyone took their seats.

Ylona wasn't interested in any of it. She just wanted to get through it and go home.

But Cyrus and her father acted like nouveau riche, bidding on item after item for Maggie and Rylee, showering them in extravagance.

A bitter realization hit her—how foolish she had been.

She used to feel guilty about Cyrus working so hard. She never asked for anything at these events, always careful not to spend his money.

And what did that save him for?

So he could spoil his mistress and his bastard.

Ylona shut her eyes, too disgusted to watch another second.

That was, until she heard the auctioneer announce the next item: a purple diamond bracelet.

She snapped her eyes open and stared at it, stunned.

That was her mother's bracelet—her only keepsake.

Years ago, when the Alvarez family was in financial crisis, her mother had sold it to help her father rebuild his business.

Without hesitation, Ylona called out, “Five million.”

Cyrus' gaze flicked toward her. In his memory, Ylona had never been one to spend recklessly. Her sudden boldness surprised him.

Next to him, Rylee pouted sweetly. “Cyrus, I really love that bracelet too. Could you buy it for me?”

Cyrus didn't even blink. He turned to Ylona and said coolly, “Rylee wants that bracelet. Let her have it.”

It wasn't a suggestion—it was a command.

But Ylona stood her ground. “I have to win this bracelet.”

“Cyrus, I've been with you for seven years. I've never asked for anything... but this bracelet, I must have it.”

“It's my mother's keepsake.”

Cyrus frowned slightly. Then Rylee leaned closer and added fuel to the fire. “But I really love it, Cyrus! Coco adores purple things—it would look so cute around her neck!”

Coco was her pet dog.

Ylona trembled with rage.

Rylee was deliberately humiliating her—trying to put her mother's keepsake around a dog's neck.

Before she could say anything, Cyrus spat sharply, “Ylona, your mother has been gone for years. It's just a bracelet. Why fight with a dog over it? Be reasonable.”

On hearing his words, her heart clenched, each word stabbing her like a needle.

Clenching her fist, she choked out, “A dog? So now a dog is more important than my mother?”

“No matter what, I will get this bracelet.”

Cyrus' eyes turned cold, displeased by her defiance. He raised his hand and called out, “Twenty million.”

Then he turned to her with a smirk. “Ylona, I am the head of this household. The money is in my control. Without my permission, the bank won't release a cent to you.”

“Come on, be good. It's just a bracelet. Stop being so petty.”

Ylona felt numb all over.

She didn't understand how the man who once looked at her with such tenderness could become this heartless.

Looking at her helpless expression, Rylee gave her a triumphant smile.

Still, Ylona didn’t give up—she turned to her father with pleading eyes. "Dad, that bracelet was something Mom gave up for you when things were tough. Please, for the sake of the love you once had for her—help me get it back."

But her father only looked annoyed.

“What a waste! Spending over twenty million on a bracelet—are you out of your mind?”

He sneered and added, “Besides, your little sister said her dog likes that bracelet. What, don’t you understand plain language?”

Everyone was blaming her, saying she had no right to want something that now belonged to a dog.

Ylona's heart ached with both pain and coldness. Deep regret surged through her—regret for having such a father, and for marrying such a husband.

In the end, the bracelet was won by Cyrus for twenty million dollars.

That night, the last memento of Ylona's mother was fastened around a dog’s neck.