Mattie crumpled to the floor, groaning in agony as he clutched himself, his face twisted in pain.

“Bastard! You swore you’d be loyal to me. Was our eight years of marriage just a game to you? A joke?!”

Still writhing on the ground, Mattie managed to gasp, “Becca, you…you’re misunderstanding. She sprained her ankle, I was just helping her. If you don’t believe me, check the security cameras.”

I let out a hollow, bitter laugh. The cameras? Did he really think I had not tried that before?

That I had not spent sleepless nights going through footage, only to find that somehow, he had managed to erase every shred of evidence?

I had caught him cheating before, again and again. And yet, he always had an excuse.

This time, I did not cry. Instead, I pulled out my phone and shoved the screen into his face. “Then explain this!”

Mattie’s face paled as he looked at the receipt for the diamond ring.

His lips parted, but no words came out at first. Then, he stuttered, “Becca, you… you know me, right? I never do anything without a reason, especially when it comes to the talents I sponsor.”

I raised an eyebrow. Here we go. Another excuse.

“A week ago,” he continued, his voice forced into a calm tone, “Cam broke up with her boyfriend. She was devastated. You know how emotional she gets.

“I bought her the ring to comfort her—if she’s too stressed, she might stop streaming. Can you imagine the loss that would bring to our company?”

Unbelievable. How dare he make an excuse again that time?

Before I could snap back, my phone rang.

“Ma’am, where are you? We have to leave for a meeting with a client in ten minutes,” my secretary said.

Damn it. Bad timing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mattie sigh in relief, as if he had just been handed a get-out-of-jail-free card.

Not so fast.

I tightened my grip on my phone and met his eyes with a glare so cold he visibly shuddered. His hand instinctively covered his groin, as if terrified I might kick him again.

“Fine,” I said into the phone. “Wait for me in the lobby. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The call ended, but I was not done with Mattie.

I stepped closer, my voice low and sharp as a blade. “This is the last time I believe your excuse—that you don’t love the women you sleep with, that it’s just business.”

I let out a bitter chuckle before I continued, "After all, you’ve been with Cam for almost three years, so that excuse doesn’t hold anymore.

“Mark my words, Mattie Randolf. If you disappoint me again, if I catch you with her one more time, the next thing you’ll be facing is a divorce.”

I turned on my heel and walked out, leaving Mattie in surprise, as if he had never expected me to fight back, never expected me to know.

He thought I was still the same innocent, naïve wife who turned a blind eye to his betrayals.

But after eight years of marriage—ten if I counted the years we had dated and fifteen if I included the time since I first met him at the University of Pennsylvania—I had learned everything about him.

Every lie, every excuse, and every carefully calculated move. So, my focus was no longer on saving my marriage anymore. That man was dead to me.

At that time, my only concern was living happily with my daughter, Kenneth.

I inhaled deeply, willing my rage to settle as I made my way to the lobby where my secretary was waiting.

But just as I passed the livestream talent room, a sound made me stop in my tracks.

A high-pitched, sugary voice made by Cameron.

The door was slightly ajar, and my body moved before my mind could stop me.

Inside, Cameron sat under the bright glow of ring lights, her phone propped up, live-streaming to thousands of fans.

"Oh my god, guys, look at what my baby got me!" she squealed, holding up the ring to the camera.

The same marquise diamond ring from the receipt.

My world tilted and my hands clenched into fists as I slammed the door. The sound made her flinch.

"Enjoying yourself, Cam?" My voice was ice.

Her head snapped up, surprise flickering in her wide eyes before she immediately turned off the livestream. The second the screen went dark, her entire expression shifted.

She smirked, leaning back in her chair, crossing her long legs like she was entitled to this moment.

"Oh, Mrs. Randolf," she drawled, voice dripping with mockery. "Didn't see you there. What brought you here?"

I ignored her fake pleasantries. My eyes were locked on the ring still glittering on her perfectly manicured finger.

I pointed at it. "That’s mine." My voice was firm. "Mattie bought it for me."

Cameron let out a light, airy laugh—as if I had just told the funniest joke she had ever heard.

She stopped pretending.

"Excuse me, Ma’am," she cooed, tilting her head like she pitied me. "Mattie bought this for me. Maybe you should check your messages. I think your gift was supposed to be, oh, I don’t know… a blender?"

Something inside me snapped.

My blood burned through my veins, my nails dug into my palms, but I forced myself to stay calm.

"You think this is funny?" My voice was dangerously low, trembling with suppressed rage.

Cameron did not flinch. Instead, she stood up, deliberately slow, stepping closer as if she wanted to provoke me further.

"Oh, Mrs. Randolf," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper, "I don’t think it’s funny. I think it’s pathetic."

"You," she continued, "still pretending to be his wife, when we both know who gives him pleasure every day.”

Her words were gasoline to the fire already raging inside me. So, I snapped and slapped her hard.

For a split second, Cameron froze, her hand flying to her cheek in shock. But then, to my absolute disgust, she smirked.

She let out a low chuckle, tilting her head as if she was amused.

"There it is," she murmured, rubbing her cheek. "Took you long enough to fight back, Becca."

She straightened up, eyes glinting with something dangerous.

"But good," she continued, her lips curling into a slow, cruel smile. "Let me show you how much Mattie loves me."

Cameron’s sudden, high-pitched scream sliced through the air, echoing beyond the half-open door.

Footsteps rushed in unison—not just the staff, but also Mattie who drew instinctively to the sound he knew too well.

How could he not? Mattie indulged in her every day, reveling in her pleasure and the spoiled cries of pain that came with his every thrust.

"What the hell is going on here?" His voice sliced through the tension like a knife, sharp and furious.

"Mrs. Randolf, she attacked me," Cameron whimpered, voice trembling with perfectly executed innocence. "She said I should cut off my finger because I dared to wear the ring you gave me."

A collective gasp rippled through the employees who had gathered outside. The whispers started.

"Did she really say that?"

"I knew she was jealous, but this…?"

"The COO is insane!"

Their voices tangled together, a suffocating noose tightening around me.

But Mattie, the one person who should have known me better than anyone, believed her.

His expression darkened and his hands curled into fists as he strode toward me.

"Becca!" he snarled, his voice a low growl and his hand hanging in the air, going to slap me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the sharp, humiliating sting.

But before his hand could make contact, the sound of shattering glass exploded through the air.

A gunshot.

I gasped, my eyes snapping open just in time to see Cameron’s body jerk forward since the bullet pierced her back.

A strangled gasp escaped her lips. Then, her knees buckled and she collapsed onto the floor.

For a split second, the world seemed to tilt and my breath caught in my throat as I saw blood and heard the staff’s scream.

Mattie dropped to his knees beside her, his face contorted in pure panic.

"Cam? Cameron!" His voice cracked as his hands shook, pressing against the wound at her back, trying to stop the bleeding.

But the blood kept spreading, creeping across the floor until it pooled beneath my heels, staining them crimson.

"Call an ambulance!" someone shouted.

Mattie’s head snapped up, his wild, desperate gaze sweeping over the room. "No—no time! Prepare my car, quick!"

The guards rushed to obey, sprinting toward the parking lot.

In the chaos, I barely registered my own movements.

I followed them down to the lobby, my heels clicking against the marble floor in a daze.

My secretary was there, waiting for me near the entrance. The moment she saw the blood that was drawn on the floor because of my footsteps, she paled.

"Ma’am, what happened?"

I shook my head. I was not even sure how to answer. My own thoughts were a tangled mess. "I don’t know, but cancel the meeting. I have to go to the hospital with Mattie."

She nodded quickly, already pulling out her phone to reschedule.

I turned to follow Mattie as he carried Cameron toward his black Mercedes.

I reached for the passenger door. But before I could even touch the handle, the car sped away leaving me behind.

I stood there motionless.

For the first time, I truly saw the truth. Mattie had not even looked at me. He had completely forgotten my existence the second Cameron had fallen.

The irony of it all settled in like a heavy weight pressing down on my chest. Why?

Why had I wasted so many years fighting for a man who had never once fought for me?

Why had I begged for his attention, when it had never truly belonged to me in the first place?

I had told myself over and over again—as long as I was capable, as long as I proved I was the only woman he needed, Mattie would not cheat on me.

But I was wrong. I had always been wrong.

I decided to go home, pack my things, and end the nightmare by signing the divorce papers that Mattie had prepared years ago.

At the start of our marriage, when we first discovered Mattie had Oligospermia, he had fallen into a deep frustration. He convinced himself that he was less of a man because he might never father a child.

And back then, he had wanted me to leave.

"Divorce me, Becca," he had said, his voice hollow as he gripped my hands. "I have no right to be your husband. I can’t even give you children."

But I had fought for him.

"I don’t care, Mattie," I whispered through my tears, squeezing his hands tighter. "I don’t need children to be happy. I only need you."

And Mattie had pulled me into his arms, his embrace tight, almost desperate. He had cried into my shoulder, swearing that our love would be enough.

But it turned out, he lied. It was not love that Mattie had given me, but a slow, merciless destruction—chipping away at my heart, piece by piece, until nothing was left but pain.

So, I was done drowning on it.

But before I could take Kenneth with me, Mattie was back.

He did not notice my suitcase. Instead, his fingers dug into my wrist, pulling me forward.

His eyes burned with urgency, he demanded impatiently, "Come with me to the hospital."

"No, let go of me!" I struggled in confusion.

But my body was too weak, so against my will, I ended up at the hospital.

The moment we arrived, it hit me—I was nothing more than a tool to keep Cameron alive.

She had lost too much blood, and with hospital supplies running low due to the flood of emergency cases, Mattie had no other choice. He needed a donor. And he remembered—I had universal blood, O-negative.

So, without hesitation, he forced me to give mine.

I laughed, a short, bitter sound.

"Are you insane?" I scoffed. "Why would I save your precious toy?"

Mattie’s jaw clenched. "Don’t be ridiculous, Becca. This is about saving a life."

"A life?" My voice was sharp. "You mean the same life that ruined our marriage?"

The doctor cleared his throat, stepping in cautiously. "Mr. Randolf, a blood transfusion must be voluntary."

"Right, doc. I will never do it," I snapped, cutting him off. "Wouldn’t it be better if she left this world forever?"

In a second, his palm swung through the air.

Gasps filled the room, but no one dared to stop him since he was an influential person in Philadelphia.

In the end, Mattie signed the paperwork himself and forced everyone to obey him.

The next thing I knew, I was falling into a black abyss because of the blood loss, since they took too much blood for the transfusion.

When I woke up, a doctor standing by my bedside said gently, "Mrs. Randolf, I have some difficult news."

Something in his tone made my blood run cold. But I swallowed. "Tell me."

The doctor hesitated, then exhaled. "You were one month pregnant. But due to the forced blood donation… you suffered a miscarriage."

My breath hitched. I looked at him in unbelieve as I responded, "But, Mattie should have stopped it if he knew."

The doctor’s gaze softened. "I’m sorry, ma’am. Your husband knew… but still chose to save the patient instead, since she was getting pregnant with a son now."

Everything inside me shattered as the doctor’s words echoed in my mind.

So, my intuition had been right all along. The ring was an engagement ring, because Cameron was pregnant with his son, which meant Kenneth and I were no longer important to Mattie.

As I clenched the hospital sheets, my phone vibrated.

My secretary’s urgent voice suddenly fulfilled my ears, “Ma’am, you should watch the breaking news now.”

Since Cameron showing off her marquise diamond ring during a livestream, the scandal leaked and the media had been quick to connect the dots, thanks to the paparazzi who had caught Mattie buying it.

The headlines were splashed with speculation and celebration. But that was not the worst part, since Cameron had gone a step further shamelessly.

She had clarified everything by posting a photo with a caption that read, [My baby is here guarding me in the hospital.]

The image did not show Mattie’s face, but his silhouette was unmistakable. Anyone who had ever seen him would know it was him.

The comments were a dagger to my heart.

[Congratulations, Cam. You deserve it.]

[I knew it. A girl as beautiful as Cam is indeed perfect for the CEO.]

[I don’t blame Cam or the CEO. Cam is charming, no CEO’s wife can beat her.]

I sneered, my voice thick with bitterness. “The world has turned upside down. Even a legal wife can’t beat a concubine.”

My gaze shifted to my message app, where Cameron’s provocative texts, photos, and videos sat, taunting me like a collection of venomous trophies.

For months, she had been sending me evidence of their affair, each image and clip a cruel reminder of how insignificant I was in Mattie’s eyes. She wanted to hurt me and break me.

Since she wanted a war, then I would gladly give her one. I realized I was too kind just by keeping it and attaching it in my divorce file.

I typed a simple command to my secretary. [Share it.]

Within minutes, everything Cameron had ever sent me was forwarded to every major media outlet and news company.