To support my foster sister, I tied the knot with someone from the same family she did.

While she married the heir of the Montclair family, I ended up with the heir's father.

Not long after we said our vows, the heir’s first love came back.

My sister came to me, tears streaming down her face, begging, “Liora, I want a divorce. I can’t stand being the third wheel in their love.”

I nodded and replied, "Sis, if you want to divorce, then go ahead."

Just as I was gearing up to raise this issue with the heir's father, I learned that the heir had been assaulted and was now laid up in the hospital.

His father permitted him a half-day of rest, but by evening, he was summoned back for another dose of punishment.

"If you drive my wife away, I'll make sure you regret it," he warned.

——

My foster sister was a delicate socialite, while I was a rough-around-the-edges orphan.

Seeing his daughter’s loneliness, the richest man decided to bring a girl from the orphanage into their home, believing it would fill her life with joy and friendship.

While the other little girls presented themselves like little dolls, impeccably clean and tidy, I was a breath of fresh air, a little wild and free.

I had just caught up with a plump little boy from the orphanage, who snatched my chicken leg without care, ignoring the director’s warning about the important visitors.

I pulled the boy into the dorm and gave him a sound thrashing, making sure he learned his lesson.

But soon, an unsettling feeling washed over me, as if a thousand eyes were fixated on my every move.

When I glanced up, the director cleared his throat with hesitation and remarked, “This girl is typically a gem—polite, kind, and gentle…”

With a playful grin, I delivered another punch to the chubby boy, snatched a bun from his hands, and stuffed it into my mouth, eager to make my escape. Then, suddenly, I paused.

The fragile girl next to the wealthiest man suddenly clasped my hand tightly. I attempted to shake her off, but she burst into tears, her sobs echoing in the tense air.

I was left speechless. Was she just putting on a show?

A warning siren blared in my head, and I prepared to curse when she uttered, “She’s so unfortunate. She battled fiercely just for a bun.”

“Do you think this bun is beneath you? It’s what stands between me and hunger.” I was ready to push the bun into her mouth, but those pleading eyes stopped me cold.

And that was how I ended up being whisked away to her home, transforming into her devoted protector.

It turned out that someone, doubting my reputation, deliberately doused my sister’s evening dress with red wine, mocking her for not paying attention to her surroundings.

Every time my sister tried to explain, that person shot her down, pushing her to the brink of tears.

I bared my teeth in a determined smile and gestured to a passing server, snatching the tray of red wine in an instant.

With a wicked grin, I drenched the instigator in red wine, savoring the moment. The woman glared at me, her eyes blazing with fury.

I clapped my hands and smirked, "Oops, my bad! Looks like I wasn’t paying attention either. Should I pluck your eyes out and hand them back to you?"

In that instant, I catapulted to fame, donning the infamous label of "mad dog." My reputation roared through the social circles, leaving no one to challenge my standing.

Eventually, Dad wanted to arrange a marriage alliance, and my sister was set to marry.

I stood by, watching the girl I had fiercely protected for over a decade being handed over to the heir of the Montclair family.

I thought my foster father had finally opened his eyes and truly wanted a brighter future for her.

Yet, just a few days later, Brynlee Graves, my foster sister, walked through the door in tears, her eyes brimming with heartache.

“Liora, I can't bear the thought of going back. He’s bringing his first love home, expecting me to play the caretaker. And to make matters worse, his first love is pregnant!” she cried, her voice trembling with despair.

My foster mother enveloped Brynlee in a comforting embrace, her face etched with sorrow.

Meanwhile, my foster father let out a heavy sigh, lamenting, “Had I known he was capable of this, I would have never supported him, even if it cost me a fortune. But with all our funds tied up in that project, pulling out now would spell disaster for us.”

He shot me a wary glance, his tone filled with a desperate plea. “Liora, why not reach out to your sister? Perhaps we can ride this storm together for a little while longer.”

"Endure this nonsense!" I banged my hand on the table, rising to my feet. My fierce glare sent shivers down their spines as I clenched my jaw, the sound echoing like a warning bell. "Oh, sis, get ready. Your little sister is going to become your stepmother!"

I grinned wickedly, my white teeth shining in the dark, making everyone shiver.

Brynlee clung to my foster mother, trembling like a leaf, while my foster father wrapped his arms around them both, quaking with fear.

I spat three times and declared, "What are you all thinking? I’m going to become Jaxon's stepmother!"

The only reason Jaxon had risen to such power within the Montclair family was due to the remarkable legacy of his father.

If Jaxon was the crown prince, then Caspian was the emperor.

If Brynlee had been thriving in the Montclair family, I would have stayed put, comfortably settled at home.

But no, Jaxon just had to make his romantic daydream a reality, bringing forth his ideal woman and legitimate wife into the scene.

If that’s how things stood, I was determined to rattle some cages.

Caspian and I shared a bond, having known each other for quite a while. He even revealed that he had connections to my past, as he knew an older brother from my orphanage who had asked him to keep an eye on me.

From my university days to now, he has been an incredible support.

But as time passed, his care started to take on a different flavor. One day, he took out a ring and said, “This ring once belonged to him. When you were kids, he vowed to marry you. He never had the chance, but I do. Can I seize the opportunity to take care of you?”

I refused outright.

With a smile, I shook my head and replied, “Sorry, I don’t want to become a mother without the pain of childbirth.”

After that, I kept my distance, avoiding contact for quite some time. But today, I made my way to him, catching him just as he was about to leave the banquet.

I laid my cards on the table and said, “Mr. Montclair, I’m ready to take on the role of a mother—without the trials of giving birth. Is there an opening for me?”

I still remember the look on Caspian's face—joy mixed with a hint of helplessness.

Caspian had never tied the knot, and his only son, Jaxon, had appeared from the shadows of an uncertain past. Their father-son relationship was curious, as they were seldom seen together.

The first time I laid eyes on them together was after Caspian, and I had exchanged vows and secured our marriage certificate.

Jaxon shot me a smirk, saying, “Dad, weren’t you always the untouchable figure among a field of flowers? How did such a common weed attach itself to you so easily?”

With a playful glint in his eye, Caspian remarked, “It's all because of you. A wild home brings out the best in family loyalty.”

“But let me warn you, if you don’t get rid of that 'weed' causing the trouble, and I lose mine, I’ll show you what ‘justice at any cost’ means.”

Jaxon froze, sensing the threat in Caspian's words.

Why had Caspian suddenly become so serious? Well, I played a part in that.

I often discussed romance novels with Caspian, especially those about chasing after a wife.

“Honey,” I had asked, “why do men always pursue their wives after they’ve pushed them away? It’s only when the proper wife runs off that they regret it and try to win her back.”

Caspian, his ears and neck turning red, likely from the wine, naturally wrapped his arm around my waist and said, “Maybe because they enjoy punishing themselves.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes before opening a new novel, one that had recently gained popularity about two sisters marrying into the same family.

“Honey, this story is so satisfying. Two sisters marry into the same family, but neither is happy, so they both divorce, and then the men chase after them. What do you think?”

Caspian's expression shifted instantly. “Those two men deserved it. They married good wives but didn’t cherish them. They were too focused on what was outside. Even if their wives never come back, they have no one to blame but themselves.”

He tightened his grip around my waist and added in a somewhat pleading tone, “Wife, you wouldn’t take your sister and run off to get a divorce, would you?”

I offered a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes and lightly tapped his chest. “Who knows?”

That comment apparently struck a nerve.

He scooped me up and carried me straight to the bedroom, muttering under his breath, “You ungrateful thing. Now that you have a sister, you’ve forgotten about your brother. You’re not allowed to call me husband anymore; call me brother.”

“What are you playing at? Who’s your brother?”

The string of curses I wanted to hurl at him was abruptly silenced, and I didn’t sleep a wink that night.

My waist ached when I woke up the next morning, and I wanted to swear out loud.

“Who the hell said Caspian wasn’t interested in women? If this is what it means to be disinterested, I’m ready to shave my head and become a nun!”

He gently massaged my shoulders and whispered apologetically, “I was too rough yesterday. Don’t be mad. And don’t even think about divorcing me. From now on, do whatever you want. If Jaxon doesn’t behave, feel free to deal with him as a stepmother should. But please, don’t leave me just because of your sister.”

Once Caspian dropped that line, I held my ground. Yet, I wasn’t one to cause a stir without a reason.

As long as Brynlee kept her composure, I was more than happy to coexist with Jaxon. But, of course, Jaxon appeared to revel in turning up the heat.

“Liora, I didn’t push Emberlyn.”

“I don’t know why she fell.”