I shoved the little boy aside, and he crashed hard to the ground. His face twisted in rage as he shouted at me.

"How dare you push me! You're dead! I'll tell my dad!"

I ignored his tantrum and bent down to pull my daughter into my arms.

But as I looked at him—at that boy—I realized something far worse: I wasn't even divorced from Austin, and yet he already had another woman… and even a child with her.

What cut deeper was the realization that this was the kind of life my daughter had endured in the Grant household—a life of humiliation and abuse.

"Didn't you hear me?" the boy snarled, scrambling back to his feet, his face contorted. "My dad will never let you go!"

He lunged toward me, and Isla's shrill voice rang out. "What are you bodyguards standing around for? Didn't you see Young Master Evan being bullied? Are you all dead?"

From the shadows, men in black surged forward. In an instant, three of them pinned me down, their iron grips locking my arms and legs.

Isla strode up to me with a mocking smile.

"Weren't you so fierce just now? And yet here you are, in my hands after all."

Her palm cracked across my face, sharp and stinging. Then she turned to the gathering crowd of parents, her voice dripping with venom.

"Since today's kindergarten graduation has no real program, why don't we play a little game?"

She patted my cheek lightly.

"Each of you will step forward and slap her. Anyone who refuses, or doesn't hit hard enough, is declaring themselves an enemy of the Grant family."

The parents exchanged uneasy glances. None of them wanted to be the villain, yet none dared oppose the Grant family. One by one, they approached, raising trembling hands.

"I am with the National Research Bureau!" I shouted. "Do you people have any idea of the consequences?"

Their hands froze mid-air.

Everyone knew that members of the Bureau were national treasures. To deliberately strike one was to invite prison. But opposing the Grant family was no less terrifying.

As hesitation spread, Isla burst into mocking laughter.

"You? From the National Research Bureau? Don't make me laugh. Everyone knows Bureau members never step outside without their own security detail. If you're going to lie, at least come up with a decent story."

Her words shattered the fragile pause. The crowd's fear dissolved, replaced with cruelty.

One by one, palms cracked against my face. Each blow came with mumbled excuses.

"Forgive me. I just want to survive. Blame yourself for offending the wrong people."

"You shouldn't have meddled. You're powerless and alone. Why did you have to act all righteous?"

My daughter rushed forward, sobbing, trying to shield me. But Isla kicked her away with brutal force.

Amy hit the ground hard. She looked at my swollen, bloodied face, tears streaming down her cheeks. Kneeling on the ground, she pleaded desperately, "Ethan, please, I beg you… don't let them hit her anymore…"

Her words were cut off by a sharp interruption by Isla.

"She is today's entertainment. Making everyone happy is her honor. And if you dare plead for her again, you'll spend the rest of your life locked in the basement."

The light drained from my daughter's eyes. She collapsed, broken.

Rage exploded in me.

I sank my teeth into the guard's arm, ripping free from his grasp. Using the opening, I twisted and hurled Isla to the ground. My fists rained down, blow after blow striking her face.

She shrieked, her nails clawing at my neck as she screeched, "You bitch! How dare you hit me? Kill her! Kill her now!"

As we grappled on the ground, a cold, commanding voice cut through the chaos. "What is going on here?"

Isla froze. She scrambled up, bowing low, her arrogance vanishing in an instant.

I lifted my head, and my eyes locked with Austin's.

For a moment, shock flickered across his face. His gaze swept over me again and again, as though he couldn't believe what he saw.

"Claire?" he whispered, his voice filled with disbelief. "You're… still alive?"

"I'm not only alive. I'm living well."

I glared at Austin.

For six years, I had imagined him waiting for me, flowers in hand, our daughter by his side, welcoming me home.

But reality was crueler than any nightmare.

I had spent those six years in the lab. My face had aged under the radiation and drugs. He, on the other hand, had hardly changed at all. He still looked as handsome as when we first married. Only now, those once-warm eyes were cold and unrecognizable.

The man before me was no longer the Austin who had loved me.

Before our marriage, the research institute had courted me repeatedly, but back then, Austin's startup had failed, and he'd fallen to rock bottom.

I stayed by his side, rejecting opportunity after opportunity. Later, the institute secretly funded him to ease my worries, and when his company thrived, we married.

But his success had never been his own. With a flimsy company full of holes, how could he have drawn so much investment? All of it had come from the resources I had given him.

And now, he turned his back on me as though none of it mattered.

My daughter stared at me in disbelief.

"Are you really… my mommy?"

When I nodded, she flung herself into my arms, sobbing.

"Mommy, is it really you? I missed you so much. Why did you only come back now? Dad said you were dead. I couldn't even find your grave…"

Her words broke something inside me. I stroked her hair, forcing my fury into focus. Every ounce of it pointed at Austin.

"Austin, I don't hate you for finding another woman. But Amy is your daughter. How could you let her suffer like this?"

He showed not a flicker of guilt. Instead, he reprimanded me coldly.

"And what right do you have to lecture me? You abandoned her for six years. What kind of mother does that?"

Then, with casual indifference, he added, "Since you're back, sign the divorce papers."

The crowd, who had finally settled, burst into uproar again.

"I didn't know Mr. Grant even had a wife!"

"She disappeared for so long. We thought she was dead."

"Maybe she ran out of money and came crawling back to blackmail him."

I ignored the gossip and stepped toward him.

"You want a divorce? Fine. But I have two conditions."

He gave me a frigid look and nodded slightly. "Say it. How much do you want?"

"I don't want money," I said. "I want back everything I gave you. Since you no longer love me, they're useless in your hands."

He frowned.

"I thought you were dead. I burned everything. Only this remains."

From his bag, he pulled out a ring.

The sight of it made my heart tremble.

Seven years ago, during a car accident, I had shielded him with my body and broken three ribs. When I woke in the hospital, he was drenched in tears. He had held my hand, swearing he would love me forever.

Later, two of those ribs were crafted into a ring. He said he would wear it always, to remember my sacrifice.

For a fleeting moment, his eyes softened as he stared at the ring. But then he tossed it carelessly at my feet.

I scrambled to pick it up, clutching it to my chest.

"I don't have time," he said, his face dark with impatience. "What's the second condition?"

I tightened my grip on my daughter's hand. "After our divorce, Amy's custody belongs to me."

"Impossible. Amy is my daughter."

"How shameless can you be?" My voice shook with suppressed rage. "If you truly thought of her as your daughter, you wouldn't let a bastard child and a nanny torment her."

His face darkened instantly. He struck me across the face.

"Claire, watch your mouth! That boy is my son! Sign the divorce papers now, and I'll be merciful enough to give you money. Refuse, and don't blame me for being ruthless."

My daughter broke into heart-wrenching sobs. She collapsed to her knees, pleading.

"Dad, I'll go with you! Just don't hit Mom again."

Clutching my swollen cheek, I glared at him, then pulled Amy into my arms and shielded her behind me.

"Don't be afraid, Amy. With me here, you'll never kneel to anyone again."

I shot Austin a searing look.

"Least of all to this beast who dares call himself a father."

His eyes sharpened with murderous intent.

"You dare say I'm unfit to be a father? And what about you, Claire? You abandoned her for six years! Is that what you call being a good mother?"

Isla sneered. "Look at yourself. You can't even take care of yourself, and you think you can raise Austin's daughter?"

I met her contempt with icy resolve. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out my identification card.

"How do you know I can't?" I held it high for all to see. "I'm a researcher with the National Research Bureau. I don't need to tell you what that means."

Austin frowned as he reached for my work ID, but before he could glance at it, Isla snatched it away and ripped it to shreds.

"What are you doing?!" I snapped.

She flung the fragments in my face with a sneer. "Still trying to fool Austin with a fake ID? Don't bother. I saw through your little trick long ago."

Her laughter rang sharp and cruel. "Look at you. The best you could manage is selling yourself to some decrepit old man. Though I doubt anyone would even want you."

Austin thought I was lying. He said flatly, "Amy is my daughter. With me, at least she won't starve. With you, who knows? You might sell her off to some backwater village."

He paused deliberately, letting his words draw out. "Unless—"

"—you give me child support for keeping her."

I arched a brow. "How much?"

He raised a single finger. "One million."

Isla let out a shrill laugh, covering her mouth in mock astonishment. "Mr. Grant, aren't you being unfair? Look at her, she's dressed like a beggar. Even if she sold herself, she couldn't scrape together one million."

"I just want to see if she's capable of raising my daughter," Austin said coolly.

A contemptuous smile tugged at my lips. "I thought you'd demand something impossible. One million? Fine. I'll give it to you."

The ease of my reply unsettled him. Suspicion flickered in his eyes. He wondered what I'd been doing all these years. Could I really produce that kind of money?

Before he could sort his thoughts, Isla screeched, pointing at my clothes. "Stop bluffing! Your outfit isn't worth ten bucks. If you had a million, would you be wearing cheap knockoffs?"

At that, Amy tugged timidly at my sleeve, her voice trembling. "Mommy… you don't really have that much money. I don't want to be your burden. Maybe you should just… let me stay with Dad."

I hadn't shed a tear while being beaten, but her words pierced me like a blade. Tears blurred my vision.

Crouching, I gathered her in my arms. "Who says I can't? Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure everyone who hurt you pays the price."

They didn't know the truth. The plain clothes I wore weren't worthless. They were the latest development from the research institute, never released to the public. Even money couldn't buy them.

I steadied my breath and pulled out my phone in full view of the crowd.

The line clicked, and a familiar voice chuckled warmly. "Well, well, Claire. Back home already? Shouldn't you be enjoying a sweet reunion with your husband?"

"That's not important right now, Sir," I said. "I need to tell you something. My husband is cheating on me with another woman. He even has a son with her. He wants a divorce. I want custody of my daughter, but he's demanding one million in support."

For a moment, the line went silent. Then came a shocked reply, "You're not joking… are you?"

Before I could answer, Isla snatched the phone from my hand. "So you're her boss? Do you even know who the boy's father is? Austin Grant of Bexley City. If you've got the guts, come here!"

On the other end of the line, the old man froze. In all his life, no one had dared address him so rudely. But after a few seconds, his tone sharpened.

"Austin Grant of Bexley City, huh? Fine. I'll remember. I'm coming."

He hung up.

Isla burst into raucous laughter. "So that's your sugar daddy? An old man pushing seventy or eighty? You really have no shame, Claire."

Austin's gaze cut back to me, his voice final. "Sign the divorce papers now, and I'll let you off easy. Otherwise, no matter who shows up, it won't matter."

He reached toward Amy. "Amy, come here! Tonight you're going back to the basement. You're not allowed to come out without my permission."

Terrified, Amy clung tighter to my clothes.

I pushed her behind me and gently coaxed her. "Don't be afraid, my darling. In this country, no one can harm you."

"Bitch!" Isla spat. "Even if you drag in the highest official, it won't help you. Austin rules this city."

"In that case," I said coldly, "things in this city are about to change."

The words had barely left my lips when the roar of engines thundered from the distance. Dozens of armored trucks loaded with cash barreled down the street, making the ground tremble.

Under the stunned gazes of the crowd, heavily armed soldiers disembarked.