For six years after their marriage, Miranda Stone devoted herself wholeheartedly to being Mrs. Gibson.

She only found out later that while he was abroad, Felix Gibson had been secretly keeping his first love by his side.

Miranda had once believed that even the coldest heart would eventually warm if she just loved hard enough.

But that belief shattered the day his beloved first love won an international award and threw a lavish celebration—while their daughter was being wheeled into a freezing cold operating room.

That was the moment Miranda finally woke up.

She took back her worthless love, filed for divorce, and walked away with her daughter without ever looking back.

Once she picked up her career again, the woman who used to be a stay-at-home wife transformed into one of the most sought-after experts in the medical field.

Her research papers were published in top international journals. Her breakthroughs won prestigious awards across countries.

When she stepped back into the spotlight, glowing with confidence and ready to give herself another chance at happiness, the man who had always held himself above everyone else—so composed and restrained—finally broke.

He lost it completely. His eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse with desperation. He dropped to his knees in front of her, pleading like a man who had lost everything.

“Mira, please don’t leave me.”

As a storm raged through the night in Atlantis City, Miranda Stone dialed her husband Felix Gibson’s number.

The call went through, but no one answered.

In her arms, their daughter, Mia Gibson, burned with a 104-degree fever. Delirious and barely conscious, she kept crying out, “Daddy… Daddy… I want Daddy…”

Holding her tightly, Miranda rushed downstairs and turned to their housekeeper. “Mrs. Young, we’re going to the hospital.”

“Should we wait for Mr. Gibson to come home?” Mrs. Young asked.

“There’s no need.”

Tonight was his first love’s birthday. He wasn’t coming home.

Miranda’s heart felt even colder than the storm outside. Her daughter lay burning in her arms, cheeks flushed red with fever, letting out faint, pained whimpers. Meanwhile, her father was off celebrating with another woman.

As they sped toward the hospital, the rain poured harder. Miranda, frantic over Mia’s condition, pressed down on the gas. Suddenly, a car sped past from the opposite lane. Miranda flicked her hazard lights and swerved to warn them, but the other car kept barreling forward.

She quickly turned the wheel, and the car slammed into the concrete barrier.

In the back seat, Mrs. Young clutched the child tightly and let out a scream.

Miranda managed to hit the brakes in time. The front of the car had only struck a short pillar, not hard enough to cause major damage. But in that moment, she broke down completely. Her tears poured without restraint.

Years of heartache and silent suffering came crashing down all at once.

From the back seat, seeing her curled over the steering wheel, shaking with helpless sobs, Mrs. Young called out in distress, “Ma’am! Ma’am, we still need to get to the hospital! Mia’s burning up even more!”

Snapped back to reality by those words, Miranda wiped her face, reversed the car, and drove to the hospital.

At the ER, she jumped out with Mia in her arms. When the nurse tried to prick Mia’s finger for blood work, she cried and thrashed in fear. Miranda held her down firmly. As Mia screamed in agony, Miranda felt like her heart was being torn apart.

The diagnosis revealed multiple viral infections. At least seven virulent strains were present, and the chest CT showed extensive whiteout in both lungs.

“Her condition is very serious right now. We recommend performing a lung lavage procedure,” the doctor said solemnly.

Mrs. Young was startled. “What? She’s so young. Is it even safe to do something like that?”

Miranda took the CT scan from the doctor and studied it carefully.

The doctor blinked, surprised. “You… you can read this?”

She nodded without hesitation. “Once her fever comes down, please schedule the procedure.”

Mrs. Young hesitated, then asked softly, “Ma’am, shouldn’t you at least talk to Mr. Gibson about this?”

Miranda looked down at Mia’s burning face and gently brushed her damp forehead.

“No,” she said firmly. Her voice held no hesitation.

In that moment, it felt like she had finally made up her mind about something far more important.

*

Three days later, Miranda sat beside Mia’s hospital bed. The lung lavage had been completed. Mia’s face was still pale and weak as she slept soundly.

Just then, Miranda’s phone lit up with a message: “What is it?”

Just three words—cold, dismissive, and full of arrogance.

Miranda looked at the screen, then put her phone down without replying.

In the break room, Mrs. Young’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen and quickly picked up. “Hello? Mr. Gibson?”

“Did something happen at home?”

Mrs. Young froze. “No… no, nothing, sir. Are you back in the country?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then, don’t worry. Everything’s fine at home.”

After the call ended, Mrs. Young muttered to herself, “Why won’t she let me tell him what’s been going on these past two days? He’s clearly back in the country.”

Miranda held Mia’s hand. Her own eyes were red from exhaustion, and she finally allowed them to close but sleep wouldn’t come.

Just then, Mia stirred as if trapped in a nightmare. She reached out with a frightened hand, mumbling, “Daddy… Aunt Xena… I’m scared… I’m scared…”

Miranda gently clasped her hand and whispered, “Mommy’s here.”

Mia jolted awake, trembling with fear. The moment she saw Miranda, she twisted away in frustration. “I don’t want Mommy! I want Aunt Xena!”

Miranda swallowed her tears and softly patted Mia’s back, helping her drift off again.

*

On the seventh day, Miranda carried Mia home from the hospital.

That was when her body finally gave out.

She asked Mrs. Young to keep an eye on Mia for a while, then headed upstairs to sleep for an hour.

When she woke and came back down, Mrs. Young looked flustered. “Ma’am… you’re awake. Mr. Gibson came home earlier. He took Mia out for dinner.”

Miranda’s throat tightened. Without a word, she turned and went back to her room.

Downstairs, Mrs. Young let out a long sigh. “With a husband by her side, she shouldn’t have to live this way,” she thought.

Upstairs, Miranda picked up her phone and dialed Felix’s number.

The call went through.

A woman’s cheerful voice answered, “Felix is in the restroom with Mia. Do you need something?”

Miranda’s breath caught in her chest. Her lips trembled before she quietly ended the call.

She closed her eyes. The man she had once married against her father’s wishes—the man she had given up her education for—had left her utterly defeated.

She thought back to her wedding day. Her father had quietly asked her, “Will you regret this one day?”

Beaming with happiness, she had promised, “Dad, don’t worry. I won’t regret it.”

And so, without hesitation, she gave up school and stepped into marriage.

Two years ago, Miranda discovered that Mia had been hiding in Felix’s room, secretly talking on the phone with Xena Spencer—his beloved first love. The way they spoke, it was as if they were mother and daughter.

It was on that drive to the hospital with Mia that Miranda finally saw things clearly.

She regretted this marriage.

And she knew it was time to end it.

No matter how much love one poured into a one-sided marriage, it would always fall apart.

From now on, she would devote the rest of her life to loving herself.

Just then, her phone buzzed.

It was a new email notification.

Miranda stood and walked up to the study on the third floor. She opened her laptop and clicked on the email.

It was from the Department of Medical Research at a world-renowned medical university.

She closed her eyes and whispered, “Dad… you were right. Thank you for giving me a way out.”

In her mind, she could still hear his final words before he passed:

“My daughter is not allowed to become a nobody. You must be my pride. Even if you get married, never give up on your education.”

For six years, Miranda had quietly stayed the course. Without telling anyone, she had followed the academic path her father set for her.

And now, she had finally made it.

At 8:00 p.m., Felix walked through the door, holding Mia’s hand. Miranda looked up to see her daughter skipping in, her twin braids bouncing, a new pink bunny plush clutched in her arms.

As Miranda stepped forward, wanting to hug her, Mia suddenly pushed her away with both hands, pouting.

“Hmph. I don’t want Mommy to hold me.”

Miranda froze, her arms still halfway outstretched.

Felix crouched down beside Mia, his voice gentle. “Mia.”

Mia’s lips trembled as she turned away and buried herself in Felix’s arms, eyes turning red with frustration and tears.

A sharp bitterness twisted in Miranda’s chest. Her five-year-old daughter had been quietly influenced and almost brainwashed by Xena for three years. That was her fault. She didn’t blame Mia.

Swallowing hard, Miranda turned to Mrs. Young. “Please get Mia ready for a bath later.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mrs. Young replied.

The moment Miranda walked away, laughter echoed from the living room—Mia’s joyful giggles blending with Felix’s low, affectionate voice.

The media often described Felix as a daughter-obsessed father, and Miranda didn’t disagree.

If there was anyone Felix loved more than anything else in the world, it was undoubtedly their daughter.

Leaning against the doorframe, Miranda drifted into memory.

Eight years ago, Felix was in a terrible car accident. He fell into a coma and remained unconscious at her father’s hospital for a year. At the time, Miranda had been secretly in love with him. Without hesitation, she took a year off from school to care for him.

When he finally woke up, she confessed her feelings. Despite his mother’s strong opposition, Felix chose to marry her. A year later, their daughter was born. For a time, it seemed like their life would be complete.

But when Mia turned two, Felix began traveling abroad more and more, and at the same time, their daughter started showing an unexplained resistance toward her.

It took Miranda two full years to realize another woman had stepped in and started acting as Mia’s mother.

Xena Spencer—an internationally acclaimed pianist, a prodigy in the arts, and the woman Felix had never stopped loving.

Today, she was also the “Aunt Xena” that Mia adored and idolized.

Felix never admitted he regretted marrying Miranda. But the way he had acted these past two years made his feelings painfully clear.

Miranda went downstairs to grab a glass of water. As she turned the corner, she overheard Felix on the phone.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll remind her to brush her teeth.

“Make sure you put ointment on your finger. Follow the doctor’s instructions. Don’t be stubborn.”

Miranda let out a quiet scoff. He was talking to Xena.

It wasn’t hard to guess Mia had dinner with her tonight—and probably something sweet again. Treats were Xena’s go-to trick for winning Mia over.

And Felix? He let it happen. He never once stepped in.

“Go to bed early. Don’t stay up too late. I’m hanging up.” Felix ended the call and turned to head downstairs.

That was when he saw Miranda standing there. For a brief moment, his face froze.

“You stay with Mia tonight. I’ve got a video conference. It might run late.”

He glanced at the calendar and frowned slightly. “It’s the eighth.”

“I’ll come to your room after the meeting,” he said flatly as he walked away.

The eighth. One of their “designated nights.”

There had been a time when Miranda, feeling hurt and neglected, had tearfully demanded they at least maintain some semblance of a marriage.

In response, Felix agreed to her request for intimacy—four times a month, on specific dates: the 1st, 8th, 16th, and 26th. If he was home, he had to fulfill his duties as a husband.

“I'm tired tonight. Let’s do it another day,” Miranda called after him as Felix walked downstairs.

Later that evening, Mrs. Young brought Mia into the bedroom after her bath. Miranda sat waiting with her daughter’s favorite picture book in hand.

“Mia, come here. Mommy will read you a story,” Miranda said with a warm smile.

Mia looked up at Mrs. Young instead. “Mrs. Young, I want my little dinosaur.”

“Alright, I’ll go get it,” Mrs. Young replied as she stepped out of the room.

Miranda patiently waited for her daughter to come over. Mia hugged her stuffed dinosaur and crawled up beside her. It was a gift from Xena, brought back from abroad for Mia’s fourth birthday. Now it was her bedtime buddy, the one she never slept without.

Under the soft light, freshly bathed, Mia smelled sweet and clean, her whole little body warm and soft. Miranda couldn’t resist planting a gentle kiss on her daughter’s head.

But Mia suddenly pulled away. “I don’t want Mommy to kiss me.”

Miranda froze, a sharp ache piercing her chest.

“Mia…”

“You’re never with me! You don’t buy me treats, and you don’t even like me! So I don’t like you either!” Mia crossed her arms and pouted.

Miranda’s heart tightened. She reached out, wanting to comfort her.

But Mia only grew more upset. As if a dam had burst, she broke into tears and cried, “Daddy! I want Daddy! I want Daddy to sleep with me!”

Moments later, Felix appeared at the door. Mia immediately jumped up and ran into his arms.

Felix scooped her up gently. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I want to sleep with Daddy. I don’t want to sleep with Mommy,” Mia whimpered, snuggling deeper into his embrace.

Felix stroked her hair and chuckled softly. “Then Daddy will sleep with both of you tonight.”

Mia nodded eagerly in agreement.

Miranda shifted to the side, making space for the two of them. Only then did Mia finally settle down and crawl under the covers. Felix lay on the other side and extended his arm, letting Mia curl up in the crook of it.

His arm was long, and as he moved, his fingers brushed against Miranda’s shoulder. She tensed and instinctively shifted closer to the edge of the bed.

Mia let out a few soft murmurs and closed her eyes, snuggling deeper into Felix’s warm embrace.

Miranda closed her eyes too, silently waiting for Felix to leave.

About twenty minutes later, Mia was fast asleep. Felix slowly slid his arm out from under her, gently tucked the blanket around her, then leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

Miranda knew his routine. Whenever they slept in the same bed, he would usually kiss her too. This time, she turned away and gave him her back.

Only when she heard his footsteps fade down the hall did she finally roll over and pull Mia into her arms.

Mia’s hand reached out, just like when she was a baby, gently touching Miranda’s cheek in search of comfort. Her soft, round face nuzzled into Miranda’s chest.

Miranda pressed her forehead to Mia’s. This was her flesh and blood. The baby she had carried for nine months. Her everything.

In this broken marriage, there was only one thing Miranda wanted to take with her—her daughter.

If Xena wanted the title of Mrs. Gibson, she could have it.

But if she thought she could take Mia too, Miranda would never allow it.

The next morning, Miranda put on her makeup and waited by the bed with Mia’s favorite little dress in hand.

When Mia opened her eyes and was met with her mother’s gentle smile, she looked slightly unsure. She turned over and curled up like a kitten, burying her face in the pillow.

“Sweetheart, do you want to wear your pretty little dress today?” Miranda asked with a soft smile.

Mia flipped onto her back and glanced at the pink princess dress. She nodded eagerly. “Yes!”

Miranda carried her beautifully dressed daughter downstairs. Felix was already waiting on the living room sofa. It had become his daily routine to take Mia to school before heading to the office.

“Daddy, do I look pretty?” Mia asked as she twirled happily in front of him.

Felix looked at her with unmistakable affection in his eyes. “Yes,” he said without hesitation. “You look beautiful.”

He picked her up, and Miranda took the backpack from Mrs. Young before heading out with them.

The school was nearby, just outside the gates of their villa community. It was one of the most expensive private kindergartens in all of Atlantis City.

Once they arrived, Mia hopped out of the car. Miranda walked her to the entrance, adjusted her backpack, and asked with a smile, “I’ll come pick you up early this afternoon. Want to bake a cake together?”

Mia beamed and nodded excitedly. After greeting the principal and teachers, she walked into the school with a bounce in her step.

Miranda watched her daughter disappear inside, eyes filled with tenderness. Then she turned and looked toward the car.

Felix was still seated behind the wheel. He looked as steady and composed as ever—charming and poised. But his eyes, like a winter night, always held a cold, distant chill.

“I’ll walk home. You go on to work,” Miranda said as she approached his side of the car.

Felix pressed his lips together and turned the steering wheel with graceful ease. The black Rolls-Royce pulled away and disappeared into traffic.

Miranda stood there, watching the car go. After all these years of marriage, she still didn’t really understand him.

Even though she had known all these years that what he felt for her was gratitude, not love, she had still waited foolishly.

She had waited for him to love her. And that wait had lasted six years.

But Miranda no longer blamed anyone else. She blamed herself for choosing the wrong person and she was ready to accept the consequences.

When she arrived home, Mrs. Young came up to her. “Ma’am, what would you like for breakfast?”

“Two boiled eggs and half a corn cob,” Miranda replied calmly.

Mrs. Young paused for a moment, then headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

“Something about her expression seemed different today. It seems colder than usual,” she thought.

And last night, there hadn’t been a single argument between her and Felix.

Normally, if he didn’t come home for weeks, she would be visibly upset. But this time, even after something as serious as Mia being hospitalized for a lung procedure, she hadn’t said a word.

Upstairs in the third-floor study, Miranda sat deep in thought.

Just a month ago, she had taken the stage as the top graduate at a major medical forum in Merika. Her speech had already drawn attention from more than a hundred of the world’s leading pharmaceutical companies.

All she had to do was say yes, and she would gain access to the best research labs and billions in investment.

But she had never shared any of this. At home, and in the eyes of the world, she was just a housewife in a gilded cage, dismissed as someone with nothing to offer.

And then there was her husband, Felix Gibson.

At eighteen, he had already become a star consultant on Wall Street. By twenty-three, he had taken over the company and made a name for himself as a ruthless legend in the investment world. In just four years, he had climbed to the very top of the national wealth rankings.

Just then, Miranda’s phone buzzed with a message from her close friend, Sophie Shaw, a lawyer.

“Mira, I was out having lunch with a client today. Guess who I ran into?”

Three photos followed.

In the pictures, Felix was seated in a private room, entertaining a group of foreign clients. And right beside him, dressed to impress, was Xena.

She wore a form-fitting silk dress, elegant and seductive. In the third photo, she was laughing, her expression playful and captivating. Felix, meanwhile, had his gaze fixed on her, calm and focused—like a picture-perfect couple.

“Mira, don’t overthink it. Don’t let this get to you,” Sophie added.

“I won’t,” Miranda replied.

To Felix, she had always been the wife he couldn’t show off. But Xena—she was a woman he could display proudly.

An internationally renowned pianist. A darling of the fashion world. A brand ambassador for top jewelry houses. Every part of her image added to Felix’s prestige.

By 3:30 p.m., Miranda was already parked outside Mia’s school, determined to be the first one to pick up her daughter.

Around 4:00 p.m., a red Ferrari pulled up and stopped across from her.

Miranda’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.

It was Xena.

She was in the driver’s seat, reapplying her makeup. Clearly, she had arrived early on purpose, waiting to meet Felix when he came to pick up Mia.

A woman who could hold onto Felix’s heart for this long had to be clever and calculated.

For the past two years, Miranda had never once confronted her face-to-face. Even when she lost her temper, she kept it in check, thinking that maybe Felix would return to their family.

But reality had only proved otherwise. The more she held back, the more reckless they became.

This time, Miranda wasn’t going to shrink back and stay silent.

She opened the car door and stepped out first, her eyes cold as she looked toward Xena’s car.

Xena spotted Miranda and froze for a second. “So it’s not Felix picking Mia up today,” she silently remarked.

When she noticed Miranda’s gaze locked on her, Xena smiled confidently. She stepped out of the car with elegance and began walking over.

Miranda’s fists clenched as she stared at that face with unmistakable disgust.

Xena smiled sweetly. “Hello, Miss Stone. I’m sure you know who I am by now. Let me formally introduce myself. I’m Xena Spencer, Felix’s close friend.”

“I don’t care who you are,” Miranda said flatly. “Just stay away from my daughter.”

Xena raised her eyebrows, then suddenly chuckled. “Miranda, do you really think just because I like your husband, that makes me the villain here?”

Miranda didn’t even bother responding.

Xena scoffed. “Well, what if I told you the man I love was stolen by another woman and forced into marriage? Wouldn’t that make you just as awful?”

Miranda looked her dead in the eye and remarked coldly, “Saying something that shameless like it’s perfectly justified? You really are one of a kind.”

Xena’s fingers brushed lightly over the necklace at her throat. Miranda’s gaze followed.

Dangling boldly from her neck was a striking sapphire necklace.

Xena didn’t need to say a word. Miranda already knew it was from Felix. After all, he had been with her these past two weeks.

At that moment, the school gates opened.

Without saying another word, Miranda turned and walked briskly toward the entrance.

Behind her, Xena watched her go with a faint smirk.

But in her eyes, there was clear disdain.