That day was my father’s death anniversary. I sat before his grave, torturing myself by staring at those photos.

Grief overwhelmed me, and without realizing it, I drank too much. Through tears, I called Andrew Smith, sobbing that I missed him, that I wanted to see him.

He hung up and immediately bought the earliest flight back. When I woke, I was still in a daze.

Seeing him bustling in the kitchen filled me with shock and joy.

But when I noticed what he was making—a pot of ginger tea—my heart sank as if doused with ice water.

I was allergic to ginger. He knew that.

He packed most of it into a thermos, thoughtfully prepared cookies, even small toys, and before leaving said:

“There’s some left in the pot. Drink it, it’s good for your health.”

I couldn’t hold back and asked before he walked out, “Do you even remember that I’m allergic to ginger?”

He didn’t move, didn’t turn back, just stood there like a block of ice.

At that moment, I knew—my warmth could never melt him.

I arranged for Buddy to be transferred to a more reliable hospital and turned my attention to matters with the Smith Corporation.

Back then, we had only held a wedding ceremony without getting a marriage license. Arrogantly, I thought I would make Andrew fall in love with me, waiting for him to pursue me.

Looking back now, how ridiculous.

I went to meet a man who had once saved my life. If not for him, I would have died that night.

Buddy had dragged me into the road, where this man recognized me while driving home. He took me to the hospital and stayed up all night caring for me.

When we finally met again for dinner, conversation flowed effortlessly, as if we had known each other forever.

By the time I checked my phone, I had five missed calls. When I called back, Andrew’s furious voice lashed out:

“Where are you? What the hell were you doing just now?”

“Having dinner. Why? Do you need something?”

Andrew fell silent, stunned, unprepared.

Of course—before, I had set a special ringtone just for him, never silenced my phone, and always answered on the first ring.

Seeing he had nothing to say, I hung up.

Still chatting happily with Daniel Clark, I let him walk me home. Just as we reached the door, Andrew stormed out of his car and punched Daniel.

“Damn you, trying to steal my woman? Rachel Moore is my wife!”

I rushed to help Daniel, dodging Andrew’s rage. “Calm down, we’re just friends.”

“Friends? Don’t play me for a fool. I’m a man—I know that look!”

Another punch swung, missing Daniel and slamming into my temple. My glasses shattered, darkness closing in.

Even as I crumpled to the ground in pain, Andrew didn’t stop—until Chloe White stumbled out of the car, clothes disheveled, crying:

“Andrew, stop! You’ll kill someone!”

Like a lion soothed, Andrew instantly calmed down.

Afraid to frighten Chloe, he covered her eyes and carried her back into the car.

Only then did I notice his shirt collar was undone, three buttons open, and the shimmer of lipstick on his mouth.

It was obvious what he and Chloe had been doing inside.

Accusing me of betrayal, while indulging in his own.

After sending Daniel to the hospital, I collapsed into a chair, utterly exhausted.

My phone rang again and again, like a death knell.

Answering it, I headed to New York, rehearsing countermeasures along the way.

The moment I landed, Andrew greeted me with a vicious slap across the face.

“You bitch! I told you to give that project to Chloe. If you didn’t want to, you could’ve said so! Instead you sabotaged her. Now the project’s failed, Chloe might go to jail—is this what you wanted?”

“I, Rachel Moore, will never admit to something I didn’t do!”

But no matter how I investigated, the loophole was always at the stage Chloe had handled.

She swore I was the culprit, and Andrew believed her without question, even bribing board members to testify against me.

Within days, I was dismissed in disgrace.

But Andrew had no idea—I already held all the evidence.

Neither Chloe nor Andrew would escape.

After I stopped going to the Smith Corporation, Andrew came home more often, his eyes gleaming with secret joy.

At dinner, he would wait for me, even bringing my favorite fruit.

At the table, he would eagerly serve me food, hiding concern in his words:

“Rachel, eat more.”

After one such meal, he couldn’t hold back.

“Rachel, since you’ve got nothing to do at home, maybe I’ll find something for you.”

“Sure. What is it?” I set down my teacup, curious about his scheme.

“Chloe’s pregnant. With my child.”

The scalding tea burned my hand, but the pain went straight to my heart.

For a moment, my heartbeat stopped. His words were a knife, slicing me apart.

It took me a long time to find my voice, steady and cold:

“So? What do you want?”

“Chloe is just a young girl. I can’t leave her alone. Since you’re not busy, you’ll take care of her. When the baby is born, you can even be the godmother.”

“As long as you behave and cover for us, I won’t divorce you.”

Numb, I nodded. Let them bask in their brief joy.

I would make sure they understood—I was not someone to be trifled with.

From the moment Chloe moved in, she never stopped causing trouble.

Every day she demanded some new dish, forcing me to drive for hours to get it, only to toss it away with a sneer:

“It’s not fresh.”

One day, while I was serving seafood soup, Chloe rushed forward and bumped into me. The soup spilled, scalding my arm with blistering burns.

Her wrist suffered only a tiny red mark, yet she wailed that she had harmed the baby, crying of stomach pain.

Andrew panicked, fussing over her, even feeding her like a child.

Chloe sobbed:

“It’s all my sister’s fault. If the baby had been hurt, I wouldn’t want to live.”

“She can bully me however she wants, but the baby is innocent.”

Andrew’s face darkened, terrifying to behold.

“Rachel, I told you to take care of Chloe. How dare you defy me?”

“So that’s it. You’ve always hated her, and now you’re too eager to please.”

“I told you—it wasn’t me. She ran into me on her own.” I laughed bitterly.

“You two—one lies, the other distorts the truth. Truly a perfect pair.”

I turned to leave. I already had enough evidence, and my arm needed treatment.

But Andrew’s cold voice stopped me:

“Did I say you could go?”

For reasons I couldn’t fathom, looking at my wounds made Andrew restless, desperate to lash out.

“I know you still hold ten percent of Smith Corporation’s shares. Give them to Chloe—for the baby’s sake—and I’ll let this go.”