Cormac’s idea of “making amends” was to have Hillerin move into the villa next door.

Hillerin, cheeks glowing with pride, stood in the driveway directing movers as they carried her furniture inside.

When she spotted me, she flashed a smug little smile.

“Stacia,” she said sweetly, “I told Cormac I liked your interior design, so he had this one done the same way.”

“Even the nursery has the same layout,” she added.

Cormac came out of the villa just in time to hear that. His expression froze when he saw me, but in the very next moment, he instinctively moved to shield Hillerin behind him.

“Hillerin likes this place,” he said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. “And you two won’t be living under the same roof, so you won’t get in each other’s way.”

Seeing him protecting her like that hurt more than I wanted to admit.

He softened his tone.

“Stacia,” he said, “last time, you hurt Hillerin. You should apologize and try to get along with each other from now on.”

I just stared at him, speechless.

What on earth was going through his head?

How could a wife possibly “get along” with her husband’s mistress?

When I didn’t apologize the way he clearly expected me to, a flash of irritation crossed his face.

“Stacia,” his tone dropped, a warning in his voice, “I’m giving you a way to step down gracefully. If it weren’t for me, you’d already be sitting in a police station right now.”

I almost laughed. Even if he wanted to send me to jail, he’d still need evidence.

And I’d already wiped every trace of security footage clean.

If I didn’t have more important things to deal with today, I would have let him see exactly what kind of person I really was.

“Mommy.”

My son’s soft little voice came from behind me. He was holding his teddy bear, standing there quietly as he waited for me.

My expression softened instinctively.

But then, Hillerin crouched down in front of my child.

I started forward to stop her, but Cormac blocked me.

“You must be Daryl, right?” Hillerin said, smiling sweetly. “I heard you’ve been sickly since you were little.”

“Do you know why?” she continued. “It’s because while your mommy was pregnant with you, she was fooling around with all kinds of men. She went too far, and that’s why you were born prematurely. All of this is your mom’s sin. Who knows how much longer you’ll even live?”

She gave a dramatic sigh. “But I’m not like that. I keep myself pure. I’ll definitely give Cormac a healthy child.”

She was just about to turn and gloat at me when my slap sent her crashing to the floor.

My assistant instantly covered my son’s eyes and carried him away.

Hillerin clutched her face, shrieking as she lunged for me. But I grabbed her hair and slapped her again, harder this time.

“How dare you?! How dare you say something like that in front of my son?!”

I was shaking with rage.

“Cormac! Save me!” she shrieked.

Cormac, stunned for a moment, snapped back to his senses and rushed between us.

He seized my wrist and barked, “Enough!”

Then, with a cold glare, he added, “Hillerin isn’t wrong, Stacia. If you hadn’t been messing around with other men while you were pregnant, how could Daryl be so fragile? This is your fault.”

Even knowing how heartless this man could be, his words still pierced me like a blade.

Back when I was seven months pregnant with Daryl, the company Cormac and I built together was facing its biggest crisis—our cash flow had completely collapsed overnight.

If we didn’t find a solution, bankruptcy was inevitable.

Cormac had been ready to give up. But it was I, heavily pregnant, who went door to door begging for investors.

I succeeded. I saved the company.

But because of the overwork and stress, my baby was born prematurely.

Daryl was fragile because of what I sacrificed for the damn company.

And now, they dared twist my effort into something so filthy, so disgusting?!

Cormac had never cared about my suffering—not even a little!

“Just look at yourself right now,” he said coldly. “You’re acting like a madwoman.”

Behind him, Hillerin screamed even louder, clutching her face.

“Cormac! Hit her! I want her to regret ever laying a hand on me!”

Just as I was ready to throw everything away and fight Hillerin to the bitter end, my assistant came rushing out, carrying my son in a panic.

“Ma’am, Daryl can’t breathe!”

We rushed him to the hospital just in time. Thankfully, his condition stabilized soon after.

When Cormac tried to come see him, I shoved him out of the room.

“Stacia,” he said, “stop making a scene. He’s my son, too.”

The bodyguards around us stayed in place, blocking him.

“My son doesn’t need a cheating father,” I shot back.

Seeing that he still wanted to argue, I cut him off with a single question.

“You don’t actually think I’m going to just let her off, do you?”

His face darkened instantly. Without another word, he turned and walked away.

All that fatherly act—still no match for the mistress waiting outside.

I returned to my son’s hospital bed and gently tucked the blanket around him.

He was such a sensible child. Even now, he had never once asked about his worthless father and never questioned me about what was happening between us.

“Mommy,” he said softly, his big eyes fixed on me, “if you and Daddy divorce, I’ll stay with you.”

Suddenly, my heart melted into a puddle.

“Alright,” I whispered, brushing his hair back, “then Mommy will give Daddy one last chance.”

After my warning, Cormac made sure to guard Hillerin like she was a national treasure, keeping her hidden away as tightly as possible.

While I stayed at the hospital with my son, Cormac stayed with his mistress, basking in their sweet little love affair.

He knew me well. As long as Hillerin didn’t parade herself in front of me, I wouldn’t bother with her.

He thought he had it all figured out. But he underestimated just how badly Hillerin wanted to take my place.

She broke away from the bodyguards one day and came straight to me, her face glowing with the arrogance of a victor.

She deliberately flipped her hair so I could see the fresh hickeys on her neck.

“Cormac has never been this passionate with you, has he?” she said, smiling mockingly. “He says you’re like a block of wood in bed. Ha, you can’t even satisfy him.”

Her words barely scratched me.

When I only looked at her with amusement, she pressed on. “So what if I lost my baby? Don’t think Cormac cares that much about your child. He’s sick of having to deal with such a weak, constantly-ill kid.”

“And me?” She placed a hand over her flat stomach and smirked. “I’ll give Cormac a healthy heir. And then, you and that sickly little boy will be thrown out sooner or later!”

There was an ugly, inexplicable hatred burning in her eyes.

My face turned to ice. My son was my bottom line; no one was allowed to hurt him!

“You’re braver than I thought,” I said coldly. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll lay a hand on you?”

But she only laughed and tossed something at me—a pregnancy test kit.

It showed two red lines.

“I bet you won’t dare,” she sneered. “The first time you hit me, Cormac let it slide for the sake of your history together. But if you dare touch me again, he will never let it slide again.”

Her face was full of blind faith in Cormac, the same kind of faith I used to have.

My assistant moved, ready to drag her out, but I raised a hand and stopped him.

With that, Hillerin’s arrogance grew.

“I knew it. Without a man, you’re nothing. “Everything you ever did to me—I’ll make sure you get it all back.”

Laughing loudly, she strutted out.

Indeed, she was too young; too arrogant.

She didn’t understand that people like me, who had crawled up from the dirt, had the hardest hearts of all.

I stood up. My assistant quietly drew open the curtains.

From the window, I looked down.

That little black dot that was Hillerin had just stepped out the door when a speeding motorcycle came out of nowhere, clipping her and sending her rolling more than ten meters across the ground before coming to a stop.

Out of nowhere, several of Cormac’s bodyguards rushed over and quickly carried her away.

“We’re businesspeople now,” I said quietly. “If we can avoid dirtying our own hands, we should.”

“Poor thing,” I added, almost as an afterthought. “Hit by a speeding motorcycle… I wonder if she can still have kids after this.”

I let out a long sigh.

My assistant respectfully agreed, “Yes, ma’am.”

When you have no power or influence, every step upward feels like walking against a storm.

I had already lived through staged car accidents and friends’ betrayals.

That’s why I stopped believing in pillow talk promises a long time ago.

But no matter how ugly things got between Cormac and me, we always kept up the image of being good parents in front of our son.

And yet, for the sake of one stupid woman—that bitch Hillerin—Cormac had broken that principle again and again.

As the car came barreling toward me, I held my son tightly against my chest.

I knew whose car it was—Cormac’s.

For her sake, he was willing to ignore even his own son’s life.

A deafening crash rang out as two cars collided, sparks flying on impact.

Inside the violently shaking vehicle, I clutched my son and tried desperately to stay upright.

But my forehead slammed against the glass, and my vision went black for a moment.

Then, the car door was yanked open.

“Ma’am!”

My assistant dragged me out.

I looked down quickly at my son. Aside from being terrified, he didn’t seem hurt.

Only then did the pain in my forehead register.

With my assistant’s support, I steadied myself just as a figure emerged from the twisted wreck of the car opposite us.

It was Cormac. His face was a mask of cruel fury as he strode toward me.

His bodyguards closed in behind him.

I refused to back down, and my own bodyguards formed circle after circle around me.

“Stacia,” he ground out, his voice cold enough to freeze blood. “I told you—don’t touch her again. You really think I wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you?”

He stopped five meters away, his teeth clenched so tightly that it looked like he might actually kill me.

“Do you even know what you’ve done? She can never be a mother anymore! How could you be this cruel?!”

At that, I actually laughed.

“Mr. Duffy, don’t talk nonsense. She got into an accident herself. What does that have to do with me? I’m a completely innocent businesswoman.”

I put extra emphasis on the words ‘completely innocent.’

He gave me a look full of disdain.

“You think I don’t know it was you? After all these years, you’re still the same—still fighting, still spilling blood. Whatever happened to the kind, soft-hearted woman you used to be?”

For a brief second, we both faltered at the memory.

But the past was the past.

What’s done is done.

“Cormac!”

Hillerin stumbled out of the car and threw herself into his arms.

“I want her dead! Cormac, I can’t be a mother anymore… You have to avenge our child!”

She was crying so hard that she was almost unrecognizable, and Cormac, ever patient, comforted her gently.

I just stood there, like some villain keeping two star-crossed lovers apart.

When she tried to rush at me, Cormac held her back.

I couldn’t resist adding fuel to the fire.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” I said with mock sympathy. “But since he refuses to divorce me, even if you did manage to have a child, it would still be a bastard. Who told you to play mistress?”

My tone dripped with contempt.

At my words, Hillerin’s body tensed and fresh blood began to trickle down her legs.

“Cormac! If you don’t kill her, I swear, I’ll die right here!”

In a swift motion, she grabbed a fruit knife and pressed it against her neck.

For once, the ever-composed Cormac panicked.

He grabbed the blade with his bare hand, blood instantly running down his palm. But he didn’t care. It was obvious he just wanted to hold the woman he loved.

“Put the knife down,” he ordered hoarsely. “I’ll give you an answer. I promise.”

He signed the divorce papers and threw them at me.

“You could’ve been my wife for the rest of your life. You destroyed everything yourself, Stacia!” he said. “I have to give her a proper title. This is what we owe her!”

He wrapped his arms around Hillerin and walked away.

He never once asked about my injuries.

He never once looked at our son.

My assistant opened the property division section of the papers for me to see.

Seeing what was written, I shook my head.

“If he doesn’t leave with nothing, then the only other option is for me to be widowed.”