I angrily laughed.

When my mom was still here, she treated Zion like her own child, yet he walked in with another woman dressed in a red dress, standing in front of my mom’s memorial, and he still dared to say I was narrow-minded.

I raised my head, looked at Zion, and my voice became steady.

“Zion, on my mom’s death anniversary, you brought your mistress home. Is that what you call being broad-hearted?”

My sudden reply made Zion’s face turn dark in an instant.

He stared at me for a few moments, then let out a cold, short laugh.

“Natalie, you’re unbelievable! You can’t recognize kindness when you see it!”

He reached over, pulled Maeve into his arms, and covered her as he turned to walk out, as if saying even one more word to me was pointless.

I drew in a deep breath.

Then I turned around, forced a proper smile onto my face, and offered apologies and farewells to every relative and friend.

After the last guest left, I slowly stepped toward my mom’s memorial tablet and let all my defenses fall.

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

“Today is your death anniversary, but I ended up upsetting you. Okay, let’s stop bringing up things that hurt… Mom, I set up a room for the baby. Will you come see it?”

I held the memorial tablet and slowly walked toward the small room.

But the moment the door opened, I froze on the spot.

The room was in chaos.

The baby clothes I had folded neatly were gone, and the little toys I had arranged on the shelf had vanished too.

My first thought was that a thief had broken in.

I quickly called security to ask what had happened.

The security guard’s voice sounded unsure.

“Ma’am… this… it wasn’t someone from outside.”

“It was Mr. Payne… he had people take everything away.”

I stood frozen, a loud ringing filling my ears.

After hanging up, I opened Maeve’s social media and scrolled through her posts one by one.

Soon, in a few photos that looked casual, I spotted something I knew too well.

The dog in Maeve’s house was wearing the tiny outfit I had bought for my baby.

The once soft fabric had been chewed out of shape, soaked with spit.

On the carpet, torn into pieces, were the toys I had gotten for my baby!

I clenched my teeth so hard that my chest was sore to the point I could hardly breathe.

If these were things I had bought at random, maybe it wouldn’t have hurt this much.

But they weren’t.

Those clothes were ones I received by asking favors, borrowed from the children of respected people in different fields, and they were hand-me-downs from their kids.

I fixed each piece bit by bit, washed, dried, pressed them, pouring into them my hopes and wishes for my baby’s days ahead.

The toys came from old friends and family, each one was a heartfelt gift they handed me when they learned I was pregnant.

And now, Zion had personally taken them away.

To hand them to his mistress’s dog!

I lost all calm, held my belly, and rushed straight to the company.

The front-desk assistant stopped short when he saw me, then quickly stood up in alarm. “Ma’am, Mr. Payne can’t see anyone right now—”

I ignored him and walked right inside.

The assistant rushed after me, stepping in front of me, lowering his voice with clear intent to stop me.

“You really can’t go in right now.”

Before I said anything, sounds came from the slightly open office door at the end of the hall.

A woman’s forced, shaky breaths, mixed with a man’s low, suggestive chuckles, and the faint thuds of furniture being bumped, all reached my ears at once.

A wave of heat rushed to my head, then drained in an instant, leaving my arms and legs cold.

I didn’t look at the assistant again.

I lifted my hand and pushed the door open.

The door hit the wall hard.

The scene inside the office appeared right in front of me with nothing hidden.

The messy desk, documents scattered, the chair pushed aside, and Zion leaning against the desk with his clothes in disarray, while Maeve was half leaning into his hold, her skirt wrinkled, her face flushed.

The air carried a sickening smell.

Maeve jumped in surprise; the next moment, her eyes watered instantly, and she curled into Zion’s arms by instinct.

I stood in the doorway, my fingers pressing into the frame, a tight pain spreading across my belly.

“Zion.” My voice shook.

“Why did you hand the clothes I got ready for my baby… to this woman’s dog?”

The moment she heard that, Maeve’s tears dropped right away.

“Sis… Sis…” Her tone was soft and hurt. “I just… just saw those outfits on Brother Zion’s phone a few days back, and I thought they looked so cute… so I casually said… it’d be nice if my dog could try them on…”

“And Zion gave me those clothes and toys the next day. I honestly didn’t know they were for your baby. If I knew, how could I take them?”

A sharp pain throbbed at my temples. I had barely opened my mouth when Zion let out a short laugh.

He lowered his head to look at Maeve, his tone gentle and doting.

“Why bother saying so much to her?”

“How could she not take them?” His tone was careless. “Those worn-out old outfits, letting a dog use them fits just fine.”

A loud buzzing rushed through my head.

Worn?

Good for a dog?

My voice scraped out of my throat with effort. “Zion, those were the clothes I begged—”

“Enough.” Zion impatiently interrupted me.

“Can you stop making such a big deal?”

He lightly touched Maeve’s back, sounding completely dismissive.

“What you did at your mom’s death anniversary upset Maeve. I took a few outfits and toys to compensate her. What’s the issue?”

He looked straight at me, his expression cold. “And now you run to the company to yell?”

Compensate?

Using our baby’s clothes and toys to make it up to his mistress?

I stood where I was, the hurt in my chest making it hard to breathe.

I had always believed that when it came to the baby, at least Zion cared.

I believed he was ready to be a decent father.

But now I finally understood that it was nothing more than my own fantasy.

The baby wasn’t even here yet, and Zion could already, without a second thought, take everything meant for her and use it to flatter another woman.

I didn’t dare picture if the baby were truly born, would she really end up fighting a dog for clothes?

The small hope I still held that Zion might try to be a good father broke apart right then.

When I didn’t speak, Zion walked toward me instead.

He leaned down, his eyes dropping to my belly, his voice soft. “Baby, when the time comes, Daddy will buy you the nicest, the prettiest clothes, alright?”

“Those second-hand clothes from someone else, we don’t need them.”

Zion pinched my cheek again, smiling just as sweetly and charmingly as usual.

“Don’t make that sad look, little crybaby,” he said. “Relax, I’ll make it up to you.”

Staring at the face I knew so well yet felt so distant from, a wave of ridiculousness rushed through me.

There was a time when Zion and I spent night after night in this same office, staying up late, discussing proposals, chasing investors, planning the future.

But now, papers were scattered across the ground, flipped over in a mess, and even a few used condoms lay plainly on the carpet.

Everything here was dirty enough to make me sick.

That heavy sense of collapse hit me hard, and I couldn’t stop it. I covered my mouth violently.

The next moment, I spun around and ran out of the office, nearly tripping as I rushed into the restroom and threw up until I could barely stand.

When I came back, I never mentioned the clothes again.

Instead, I gently packed every single item set aside for the baby, the outfits, the toys, the little books, the mobile for the crib, and quietly had them moved to the house I bought abroad years ago.

Zion didn’t notice any of it. He assumed I had finally learned to be “understanding.”

So he started buying things to make up for me.

Pricey maternity outfits, limited-edition accessories, sets of designer clothes, pile after pile stacked inside the walk-in closet.

I didn’t even look at them.

He sent one round, and I had someone take one round away exactly as they came.

At the same time, Maeve started streaming more often.

Sometimes, during her broadcast, with just a small turn of her head, Zion’s figure would show up.

Sometimes he was passing her water, sometimes lowering his head to talk to her, sometimes only a fuzzy side view.

But even those so-called accidental moments together sent the comment area wild.

More people began pairing the two of them.

Some envied her, saying Maeve was lucky, that Zion was mature, wealthy, gentle, and even willing to publicly appear with her.

But not every comment was a blind cheer.

Clear voices showed up soon after.

[Isn’t this basically cheating?]

[Wow, cheat long enough and it becomes ‘real love’?]

[When Zion chased Mrs. Payne back then, wasn’t he giving her anything she asked for, practically offering his life?]

[Let’s be real. He’s just fooling around.]

When I saw these comments late at night, I suddenly thought of many years ago.

In university, I was the top student in our department.

Scholarships, contests, professor recommendations, everything came to me easily.

My whole life back then was made up of the library, the lab, and stacks of heavy textbooks.

But Zion was the opposite.

He skipped class, showed up late, had no interest in lessons, and was often called out by instructors, a walking warning sign in my academic world.

If it weren’t for Grandma Ravenna, I would never have crossed paths with him.

That year, with Ravenna’s financial help, I was able to finish school smoothly.

She treated me kindly, and she was very straightforward.

She said, “Zion has a wild streak. You steady him.”

I agreed.

So I began dragging Zion to class, pushing him to hand in assignments, pulling him to review, even sorting his notes for him.

I used every simple method I could think of to make him “act like a student.”

Later, he slowly changed.

He started arriving for class on time, started avoiding those messy circles, and started putting his energy into studying and real work.

And later, Zion fell for me, openly and loudly.

He ended all unclear relationships, wanted everyone to know he was chasing me, and even began seriously taking over work duties just to make me happy.

People in our circle all said I was the rope that held Zion down.

Back then, I believed it too.

I thought I was special.

I thought I was the one who pulled him out of trouble, the one who shaped who he became.

But now, thinking back, I suddenly saw it clearly.

I wasn’t a rope.

Maybe I had just shown up earlier than the others.

There were only three days left before the divorce.

And today was the livestream for the 5th anniversary of ‘Knowing Me.’

We had prepared for an entire year for this day.

I had always assumed that even if our marriage was full of cracks, at least in business, Zion would keep basic logic.

After all, ‘Knowing Me’ wasn’t only my effort.

It was something Zion and I built from zero, the core of the company, and the shared memories and feelings of countless players.

Because I was pregnant and tired, the one who was supposed to stand onstage today and face the audience was Zion.

During the practice two weeks earlier, everything went almost flawlessly.

I thought today would go the same way.

The host’s voice rose with energy as he introduced the main guest of the night.

The lights brightened, and the person who should have stepped forward was a newly popular actor we had paid a huge fee to bring in.

Instead, Zion showed up, holding Maeve’s hand, slowly lifting from the platform.

I felt like my whole body was fixed in place.

In my earpiece came the backstage staff’s lowered but tense voices. Several people kept asking “what happened,” but no one dared to run onstage and stop it.

The audience went quiet for one second.

The next moment, angry shouts rose like a wave.

“Where is he? We came for the superstar!”

“Who is that? Walked onto the wrong stage?”

“Get off!!”

Maeve held the mic, her voice shaking, going off-key as soon as she tried to sing.

Her already weak singing collapsed even more in this situation, every line harder to listen to.

My head rang, and ignoring all formality, I nearly rushed to the backstage area, coldly telling them to cut the music right away.

But someone blocked me.

He looked uneasy. “Ma’am… this was President Payne’s plan.”

I was stopped by Zion’s people and kept from getting onstage.

That song was forced to the end by Maeve.

The shouting in the venue grew even louder.

Based on the planned schedule, next was Zion’s speech.

In front of countless cameras, he began, “These past few years, for ‘Knowing Me’ to reach this point, it also needs to thank one person.”

“If not for Maeve’s livestream support, the rise of ‘Knowing Me’ wouldn’t have happened this fast.”

“Today’s growth of ‘Knowing Me’ is thanks to Maeve.”

The audience burst out again.

I shut my eyes, my chest tightening again and again.

My phone shook nonstop in my hand.

The PR team, investors, partners, core staff… calls came one after another.

Yet Zion stood on that stage, openly protecting his mistress.

He treated everyone’s hard work like a tool to please a woman.

After his speech ended, the host almost rushed out to save the scene, quickly pulling the event back on schedule, bringing out the famous young actor we originally invited. Only then did the mood barely settle.

But the programs that followed became more and more rushed.

And offstage, Zion stayed at the side, softly comforting Maeve.

Her eyes were red, quietly crying. “It’s all my fault… if I hadn’t gone off-key, no one would yell at you like this.”

Zion’s voice was gentle, even pampering. “It’s fine, people forget fast, it’ll fade soon.”

I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I walked over and held my phone in front of him.

On the screen was the fresh top trending tag.

#KnowingMeFiveYearAnniversaryDisaster

#ZionBringsMistressOnStage

I stared at him, asking each word clearly. “No big deal?”

“Zion, tell me—”

“Who is going to make up for the losses caused today?!”

Clearly, Zion had never expected people online to push back against Maeve this hard.

The livestream of “Knowing Me” was nearly drowned out; the rolling comments were packed with jokes and doubts.

The backstage inbox was blowing up.

I held the trending page toward him. In just a few seconds, the phone shook several more times; every call was from a business partner.

But he only wrinkled his brow a little.

“Is it that serious?”

“Players just want some emotional comfort. Give them a few free skins, some limited outfits, and they’ll forget.”

Zion spoke casually, “I’ll take care of tonight’s losses. Don’t make a big fuss.”

As soon as he finished, partners rushed over to pull him away; there was a pile of follow-up chaos waiting for him.

Once Zion left, the always quiet and obedient Maeve finally raised her head.

The fear on her face vanished in an instant, replaced with a barely hidden smug look.

“Natalie, look at you, so what if you’re pregnant?”

“You can’t even hold onto your man.”

“The way you look now, you’re already being pushed aside. Why not be smart and hand over your spot? If you wait until they throw you out, it’ll only look worse.”

I looked at her and said calmly, “What are you, that you think you can talk to me?”

Her expression froze, and she opened her mouth angrily.

I didn’t let her continue.

I slapped her.

Clear and loud in the tight backstage room.

“Being a mistress is one thing, but someone as cheap as you, this is the first time I’ve seen it!”

Maeve held her cheek, stunned. Then tears fell in streams.

And almost at that moment, Zion rushed back.

He pushed me aside without holding back, pulling Maeve straight into his arms.

“What happened? Maeve, who bullied you?”

Curled in his arms, she cried hard, “Brother Zion… I only wanted to explain to Sister…”

“But she called me cheap and suddenly hit me…”

Twisting the truth completely, her words flowed smoothly.

I had been shoved by Zion so hard I stumbled, my back hitting a nearby camera, the metal edge sending a sharp sting through me.

My stomach tightened.

But Zion was already staring at me coldly.

“Natalie, have you made enough trouble?”

“Look at yourself now, what part of you still looks like Mrs. Payne? You look just like a jealous, loud woman!”

“What decent woman in our circle acts like this, bullying normal people?”

“How did you become so harsh? We’ve only been married five years, how did you turn into this? Where did the gentle you from before go?”

I held my stomach, my fingers cold, fighting the pain in my nose.

“So what?”

“Is kindness only when I swallow everything, hide and cry, stay quiet, fight for nothing? Is that what you call kind?”

“Like before, staying home feeling miserable, pretending not to notice anything, only then do you see me as a good wife?”

I lifted my head to look at him, my voice shaking.

“I’m not the same as five years ago.”

“And you? Zion…”

“You brought your mistress home, getting more bold every day, are you still the Zion who once said he only loved me?!”