After marrying into the Wrights, a famous mafia family, as the second wife, I was Milford's wife in name—but everyone knew the real love of his life was his widowed sister-in-law, Malissa.

He praised me as the perfect partner, a capable, graceful hostess. At his parties, I’d take shot after shot of hard liquor to shield him. Yet, when his sister-in-law so much as sipped a glass of fruit wine offered by another man, he cut the guy’s hand off without blinking.

He flaunted my photos everywhere, claiming he wanted the world to know how beautiful and dazzling I was. But her? He kept her hidden like a precious secret, locked away where no one could see.

Then, one of my photos leaked. His enemies saw it and I was kidnapped. I called him in desperation, begging him to save me.

He said, “Lori… Malissa is pregnant with my child now. It’s the only heir I could give my late brother. I have to stay by her side and protect her.”

“You’ll just have to hang in there for a few days. Once her morning sickness eases, I’ll come get you.”

He never came.

For a full year, I was tortured—violated over a thousand times, my leg broken, my soul shattered.

Still, he never showed up.

When I finally escaped, barely alive, covered in blood and filth, I crawled back home—only to find my daughter locked in a dog cage, emaciated and filthy, eating food scraps.

She was hugging a framed photo of me—my memorial. They had declared me dead.

Meanwhile, my husband was joyfully throwing a lavish party to celebrate the one-month birthday of his and her child, proudly announcing their upcoming wedding.

I held my daughter close, her tiny frame trembling in my arms. Through tears, I whispered to her, “Sweetheart, You don't need that kind of father. Not anymore.

***

When I stormed into the courtyard of the Wright Clan’s private estate, Milford was gently sliding a vintage gold ring onto Malissa’s finger—the same ring that had been passed down through generations, the symbol of the Wright Clan’s Lady of the House.

At that moment, Milford announced their wedding would take place in three days.

Malissa was holding a newborn baby boy, just a month old. She leaned into Milford’s chest with a bashful smile, playing the part of a glowing new mother, perfectly in love. The picture of domestic bliss.

Milford turned to smile at the crowd. Then, that’s when he saw me.

Even with my face caked in blood, barely recognizable, he knew it was me. After all these years—after everything—he still recognized me.

Shock flickered across his face, followed by something I hadn’t seen in so long: joy. Real, raw joy. He looked like he was about to run toward me.

“Lor—”

However, Malissa quickly grabbed his sleeve, her voice soft and full of quiet desperation.

“Milo…” There was something in her tone that made him stop cold. Like she was reminding him of something. Something bigger than me.

He froze. Whatever name he was about to say—whatever memory had surged forward—he swallowed it.

Just like that, the look in his eyes shifted. From elation… to guilt. Then confusion. Then fear.

Around us, the guests who had been cheering and offering toasts slowly turned to stare. Their smiles faded when they saw me—drenched in blood, barefoot, broken.

Someone muttered, loud enough for others to hear, “Who let a filthy, crazy woman in here? This is supposed to be a celebration—what a damn omen.”

Another whispered, louder, “Wait… she looks like Lorraine, right? The one Milo said died a year ago?”

“Didn’t he say she was kidnapped by enemies? That he mourned her for months? Thank God Malissa was there to comfort him—she helped him through it, they fell in love, had a baby… and now they’re finally happy again.”

I almost laughed. Dead wife? Funny, I didn’t realize I had died.

The murmurs were getting louder now, rippling through the shocked crowd.

“Wait… is that really Lorraine? She’s not dead?”

“Then doesn’t that make Malissa the other woman? She slept with her brother-in-law while his wife was still alive?”

“Lorraine’s clearly alive and breathing and Malissa still jumped into bed with him the second she had the chance…”

The words hit Malissa like a slap. Her face went pale, her eyes flicking to me with a look of barely concealed resentment. She had recognized me too.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she reached up with trembling fingers, pretending to take off the jade ring. Her voice cracked with practiced heartbreak.

“If that’s what everyone thinks… Milo, I don’t want the ring anymore. Cancel the wedding. I’m just a widow—I can’t bear that kind of shame. I never wanted to ruin anything. I just wanted to be by your side. You and the baby… that’s all I ever needed.”

Milford’s heart broke right on cue. He immediately grabbed her hand and slid the ring back onto her finger, his voice low and full of false tenderness.

“Lisa, don’t say that. Don’t even think it. You gave the Wright Clan a son—an heir. You’ve done more for this family than anyone else. That ring, that title… they belong to you.”

I stood there, stunned. Wide-eyed.

I couldn't believe this… Milford, you once told me our daughter was the only rightful heir to the Wright legacy.

But now, you were doing this?

That vintage gold ring wasn’t just a symbol of the Wright Clan's Lady of the House. It was our engagement ring.

Milford had given it to me when he proposed—promising me forever. To prove he meant it, he had the word “Lori” engraved into the ring.

But that was all in the past.

My eyes locked on that same ring—and it felt like a knife straight through my heart. The original engraving had been filed away. In its place was a new one: “Lisa.” a short to Malissa.

I swallowed the bitterness burning in my throat. I was just about to speak, to tell the crowd who I really was...

When Milford stepped in front of me. His words cut in coldly, “Lori’s dead. This woman is just some beggar. Anyone who dares slander Lisa again will answer to me.”

I froze. Staring at him in disbelief.

“Milford…” I said, my voice shaking. “Say that again. Say it to my face! Who am I?!”

Milford hesitated for a second. His eyes darted around the crowd before he leaned in, lowering his voice.

“Lori, you heard them. If I admit you’re alive now, Lisa’s reputation will be ruined. My brother entrusted her to me—I can’t let her be humiliated like that. You’ve always been the sensible one… Please. Just endure this. For me. Be good.”

Soon after, he stepped away. He didn’t even look back.

He waved to the butler and ordered him to “take care of me.” Said they’d “let me eat the leftover food” from the banquet—as some kind of charity. Said it would bring his newborn son good fortune.

Far from where I stood, the party picked right back up. Laughter, applause, champagne glasses clinking.

Everyone showered him and Malissa with blessings. Called them a perfect match. Said they were meant to be.

All I felt inside was nothing but cold.

The old butler, who had worked years for the Wright Clan, recognized me instantly. He had someone bring me clean clothes and escorted me to a guest room to take a shower.

I couldn’t help but wonder—why the guest room?

Ignoring his attempts to stop me, I walked straight to the master bedroom door. Without hesitation, I pushed it open.

This had once been our room. Milford’s and mine.

But now, it was unrecognizable. Not a single trace of me was left. Everything had been rearranged to suit Malissa’s tastes. Even our wedding photos had been replaced with pictures of him and her.

The man who once swore he would look at our wedding photo every night before bed and never take it down—even when he turned eighty—had clearly changed.

I stared at the picture of Milford and Malissa, their smiles mocking me from the frame. The tears fell quietly, without sound.

So, this was why he never came to rescue me. Was he afraid I’d get in the way of him and Malissa?

The old butler sighed, clearly wanting to offer some kind of comfort, but in the end, he couldn’t find the right words.

I stood there, numb, my eyes drifting to the baby crib in the corner of the room. I asked, almost in a whisper, “Where’s my daughter? Where is she?”

The old butler hesitated, clearly reluctant to speak. Fortunately, my persistent questions finally wore him down. Thus, the butler told me my daughter was in the shed out back.

That place was cold, damp and filthy. What could my daughter possibly be doing there?

When I found her in that shed, I felt a surge of hot blood rush to my head, followed by a chilling cold that crept up from my feet.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. My five-year-old daughter was tightly clutching my memorial tablet, locked in a massive dog cage with a half-grown wolfdog that towered over her.

Once chubby and healthy, my little girl was now skeletal. Her small body seemed even more fragile than before.

Her clothes were ripped and torn, exposing bruises and wounds on her arms, legs and even her face. Some of the wounds were so deep you could see the bone.

The wolfdog, once a vicious beast, was sleeping soundly beside her, its muzzle caked in blood.

My daughter, who was once terrified of even the smallest pain, didn’t shed a single tear. Instead, she looked at the sleeping dog, fearful but desperate. Slowly, she crawled over to the food bowl and began eating the spoiled scraps in it, gobbling them down with no regard for the filth.

I couldn’t help but think of Malissa, holding her chubby newborn son just moments ago. Hatred surged through my chest.

"Milford—how dare you?!"

My voice trembled uncontrollably as I called out, “Enid?”

My daughter froze, then slowly lifted her head to look at me. She stared for a long moment, dazed—until her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Mama? You’re back?”

The next second, her small figure broke down into tears. She cried out like she’d finally found someone to cling to after holding on for far too long.

“Mama, Aunt Malissa locked me in the dog cage. She didn’t give me any food. Daddy didn’t do anything about it! I was so scared. The big dog bites real hard, it hurts so bad. Mama, please get me out…”

The word “Mama,” spoken with such raw pain and trust, shattered me from the inside. But I didn’t have time to cry—not with that hunting dog now awake, glaring at Enid like she was prey.

I grabbed an axe from the corner, ignoring the old butler’s frantic protests and brought it down hard on the lock of the cage.

Once the chain snapped, I rushed in, scooped Enid into my arms and held her tight.

Then I turned back. I wasn’t done. Raising the axe once more, I aimed it at the snarling dog.

“Ma’am, please! Don’t be reckless!” the butler begged. “That’s the madam’s favorite dog—Mr. Milford gave it to her himself! If you hurt it, she’ll be furious—and the master too!”

Oh? So Milford gave Malissa a dog... to mangle his own daughter?

I didn’t even spare it a glance. As the beast lunged, I met it head-on—and with one clean, furious swing, I severed its head.

Still not satisfied, I turned to the cage that had imprisoned my child… and hacked it to splinters.

Milford came rushing in at the sound of the chaos—only to start scolding me the second he opened his mouth.

“Lori, you just got back and you’re already making a scene? Do you want the guests outside to start asking questions?

"You scared Eddy half to death! He’s crying his eyes out and Lisa’s been running around all day. Now she has to calm him down too? Can’t you just stop causing trouble?”

“I know this past year hasn’t been easy for you and I will explain everything when I get a moment. But I won’t let you ruin Lisa’s reputation.”

I let out a bitter laugh. Eddy, huh? Of course! His precious little prince.

And what were Enid and I to him then? Disposable trophies?

“So your heart breaks when her son cries, but not when your OWN daughter is locked in a dog cage? When she's bitten by some wild animal? Forced to eat slop like a stray? Tell me, Milford—how twisted is your love?”

Milford finally looked at Enid. When he saw the raw, bleeding wounds on her tiny arms and legs, confusion twisted across his face.

“What are you talking about? Enid’s my daughter—I would never let something like that happen to her.”

I froze for a beat. He… didn’t know?

Milford frowned and turned to the butler. “Bring Lisa here.”

Malissa walked in moments later, already crying—tears perfectly timed, voice trembling just right.

“Milo, you’ve got it all wrong… Lori misunderstood me. Enid’s such a sweet little thing—how could I ever hurt her?”

“You know how much she loves playing hide and seek. Just now, she begged me to play with her. I was busy handling the guests and couldn’t find her in time. Who could’ve guessed she’d go and lock herself in a dog cage? That child has such an imagination…”

Milford staggered back a step, more stunned by my rage than the shove itself. He didn’t apologize. He didn’t even look at Enid. Instead, he turned to Malissa—like she was the one who needed comforting.

Malissa dabbed fake tears with a silk handkerchief, her voice trembling just enough to sound fragile. “Milo… she’s just making a scene. I know Enid’s upset, but blaming me for something like this? You really think I’d hurt a little girl?”

Milford looked torn for half a second—just half. Then his jaw tightened.

“This isn’t the time or place for this,” he snapped. “Lori, if you want to talk, we’ll talk later. But right now, Lisa and I are celebrating the birth of our son. Don’t ruin that for us.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. He just watched as Enid stood there, shaking, her cheek already red and swelling. His daughter. And he chose her. Again.

Malissa slipped her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder like the doting saint she pretended to be.

“I’m not asking for much,” she whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I just want a peaceful home for our baby…”

Peaceful? She had locked my daughter in a cage.

I wrapped my arms around Enid and whispered into her hair, “It’s okay, baby. Mama’s here now. I won’t let them hurt you again.”

Inside, though, I was on fire. If they wanted peace, they should’ve thought of that before crossing a mother with nothing left to lose.