Madeline's expression shifted slightly at my words. She slowly turned around, biting her lip, her eyes full of conflict.

I knew, at that moment, she finally remembered what kind of family I came from.

"Consequences, you say? Who the hell are you to scare my wifey like that?" Jacob scolded, seeing me as someone insignificant as an ant.

Before I could expose Madeline's secret, she lunged toward me, voice shaking, and softly pleaded, "Christian, please, just bear with it a little for now. We'll talk once we're back home, okay? I promise to explain everything to you."

I skipped her question and coldly asked, "I may be able to bear with it, but what about Molly? She needs the money so she can have the treatment she needs! How can you, as her mother, be so brutal and awful…"

Her eyes darted away, face flushed red, and after a long pause, she finally squeezed out a sentence. "She's… She's not as sickly as you think. She's fine! It's just that… Can we talk when we get home?"

In the end, she didn't reveal the truth about Molly's condition. Instead, she continued to beg softly, "Let's not air our dirty laundry here, please, Christian? Can we talk about this later?"

By then, the crowd began to catch on. Seeing Madelie so humble and submissive made them realize I really did know her. Clearly, our relationship wasn't what they had assumed it to be.

Curious eyes turned toward me, and they were all eager to know who I was.

Some bolder ones even asked aloud, "So, what exactly is your relationship with her?"

This pushed Madeline into an even more humiliating state. She hung her head low, looking like she might crumble at any moment.

But I couldn't care less. I pulled out my phone and stared coldly at her. "Your reputation matters, but mine doesn't—is that it?"

Without waiting for a response, I turned away and dialed a number, my tone brooking no argument. "Bring Molly to me now."

My men had always been nearby, close enough to act if needed. I simply hadn't wanted them disrupting the quiet, ordinary life I was trying to live.

Less than ten minutes later, my daughter, Molly Lowe, appeared, flanked by a group of bodyguards. The moment she spotted me through the crowd, she burst into tears.

"Daddy, I'll be good from now on! Please—don't let Mommy punish me anymore!"

My heart sank as I held her tightly in my arms. "Sweetheart, I never wanted to punish you. Can you tell me what happened?"

The moment Molly ran into my arms, clearly about to reveal something, Madeline panicked. "Christian, look—she's fine, isn't she? Why don't we just go home and talk?"

I could tell she was trying to hide something, so I looked toward the bodyguards for an answer. "What happened when you guys brought her over?"

One of them hesitated for a second, then took a deep breath and replied, "Sir, Mrs. Lowe, she… She wanted Molly to undergo a bone marrow match test for her illegitimate son. When we arrived, she was already crying…"

Madeline's face drained of color. She rushed forward, flustered, eagerly trying to explain, "Christian, honey, it's not like that! It's not what you think at all!"

I stared at her, voice icy with rage. "Do you even see Molly as your daughter? You let her go through testing to help some other man's child? That's what you call being a mother?"

I took a step back, my gaze resolute. "The divorce papers will be sent over to you shortly."

Seeing I was about to leave, Madeline scurried to my feet and knelt, sobbing. "Christian, I…"

I delivered a slap across her face, sparing myself whatever excuse she had prepared. "Save your explanation for my lawyer."