The other guests roared with even louder laughter.

Someone jeered, "Mr. Calter is so generous! But really, isn't three hundred too much for goods like this?"

Lisa leaned into Freddy's side, joining in the mockery with a tinkling laugh.

I raised my voice, trembling with fury. "Freddy, are you really going to let them humiliate me and Elise like this?"

He stood expressionless, as if I were nothing more than a stranger.

Only when the laughter finally died down did he speak, his tone flat and impatient.

"Valerie, stop disgracing yourself here. We're celebrating Eugene's birthday party today. Take your daughter and leave now, or I'll have security escort you out."

In my arms, Elise shook violently, her tiny fingers clutching the fabric of my dress. She buried her face against my chest, too frightened to look at the sea of cruel, mocking eyes.

"Mommy… is it true? Are they right?"

Her trembling question stabbed straight through my heart, leaving me gasping for air.

Twelve years of marriage—repaid with this public shattering of dignity.

"No, no, sweetheart… Elise, don't listen to them."

I covered her ears, my throat thick with bitterness. How could I explain all this to her?

I thought back to those early days, when Freddy first started his business. We squeezed into a shabby office barely ten square meters wide.

The company couldn't afford staff, so I wore every hat—administrator, cashier, account manager.

To help him win clients, I swallowed my pride and begged every relative and acquaintance I could find.

I still remembered the day he landed his very first big client. He had spun me around in giddy excitement, then used that first pot of gold to buy me an expensive dress.

I hadn't told him then that the deal only came through because that "big client" was an old friend of my uncle.

As the company found its footing, I carried Elise. Freddy told me to stay home and rest.

"From now on, I'll take care of you. You've suffered so much for me. It's time you enjoyed life," he had said.

But now…

I looked down at the faded dress I'd worn for three years.

While Freddy stood there in a crisp tailored suit, and Lisa glowed in luxury brands from head to toe. Together, they looked like a perfect match, basking in the guests' flattery.

And I—dismissed as nothing more than a maid. Not a soul doubted it.

"Valerie," Lisa said sweetly, her tone dripping with mock compassion, "I know life must be hard for you. But your daughter is old enough to understand now. Even if you don't care about your own dignity, you shouldn't drag her down with you."

From Lisa's delicate designer purse, she drew out a neat bundle of bills, her expression smug as she held it out to me.

"I don't have much cash on me. I don't know what your troubles are, but here—take these two hundred dollars. Buy a bus ticket back to your village. Maybe even see a psychiatrist while you're at it."

As she leaned closer, her voice dropped to a whisper only I could hear. "Valerie, so what if you met Freddy before me? The one unloved is always the third wheel."

Then, with a dramatic little cry of "Oops!" she let go of the bundle.

The bills slapped across my face before scattering across the floor in a humiliating spray.

Lisa smiled without a hint of regret, her gaze condescending. "Sorry… slipped right out of my hand."

The beer-bellied vice president bellowed with laughter. "Now that's the true Mrs. Richmond! Magnanimous, full of class!"

Freddy cast me a cold, dismissive glance. "Pick it up, and leave."

My rage burned so hot it twisted into a laugh.

"Two hundred? You think that's enough to buy me off? Freddy, tell me, when your company was nothing but a struggling startup, how do you think you won those projects?"

"All these years, every cent you spent on Lisa and your bastard son came from our marital assets. As long as I want to, I can take it all back!" I yelled.

Lisa let out a derisive laugh, her voice dripping with scorn. "What a convincing story. Valerie, with an imagination like that, why don't you recommend me a few of those CEO romance novels you love so much?

"Honestly, it's already 21st century now, and you're still preaching this first-wife nonsense?"

But my words had struck a nerve. Freddy's face turned ashen, and just as he opened his mouth to scold me—

Smack!

The sharp crack of my palm across his cheek cut him off.

"Freddy, if you dare slander me again, if you dare pin another false charge on me, I'll drag you to court this very instant!"

For a moment he was stunned, dazed by the blow. Then rage blazed in his eyes. He lunged at me, his hand clamping around my throat, knuckles whitening from the force.

"You think I won't hit a woman? Don't mistake my tolerance for weakness!"

Hidden from the guests' view, he tightened his grip, cutting off my breath. The air drained from my lungs, the world dimming at the edges of my vision. I clawed helplessly at his wrist, terror flooding through me.

Just as I thought I might truly die in his hands, Lisa stepped forward with a feigned gasp of concern.

"Freddy, don't waste your anger on someone like her. What if you hurt yourself?"

Only then did he release me. I collapsed to the ground, gulping for air, tears streaming uncontrollably down my cheeks.

In that single instant of murderous cruelty in his eyes, I realized he had truly wanted to kill me.

Lisa, ever the doting partner, reached up and caressed the red mark on his face. Then, before everyone's eyes, she rose on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"There, it's fine now. Today is Eugene's birthday. Don't let her ruin our good mood."

His expression softened slightly. He slid his arm around her waist as though she belonged there.

At that moment, the lights in the banquet hall dimmed. The projector flickered to life, casting images across the screen.

It was a slideshow—Eugene's life, from birth to the present. His first cries, his first birthday, his first day of school… every milestone lovingly recorded, his parents always by his side.

But in my daughter Elise's life, her father had always been absent.

Her birthday was the same as Eugene's. And from the year he turned three—the year he was born—Freddy had never once been there to celebrate with her again.

Eugene pulled a face at Elise, his tone mocking and taunting. "Still claiming he's your dad? Then show us your photos."

My daughter's little face fell. In a small, trembling voice, she whispered, "Mommy… am I really a bastard?"

I shook my head firmly, but just then the screen shifted to family portraits.

When I recognized the backgrounds, my breath caught.

One photo showed a ship's deck and the endless sea, their faces pressed close, intimate as lovers. I remembered that cruise—I had booked it myself, to celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary. So Freddy had booked a ticket for Lisa too.

Another photo froze my blood. Taken at the Port City amusement park, it showed Freddy and Lisa locked in a tight embrace. The date scrawled in the corner was the exact same day Freddy had supposedly accompanied me and our daughter there.

In that moment, the truth hit me with brutal clarity.

So that was why he always had those "last-minute, unavoidable meetings."

The marriage I had treasured, the love I had believed in so fiercely… was riddled with cracks I had failed to see.

I was still reeling from shock when Eugene suddenly charged forward and slapped Elise hard across the face.

"That's for your mom daring to hit my dad! Now I get to bully you!" he shouted.

Her head snapped to the side, a bright red handprint blooming across her cheek.

Elise stood taller than Eugene by a head, at that age when pride and competitiveness burned hot, and her first instinct was to strike back.

But before she could move, Lisa seized both her hands, digging cruelly into her wrists. Her voice lashed out, sharp and condemning.

"How can a girl be so vicious? No upbringing at all!"

With Elise restrained, Eugene pounced. His little fists and kicks landed recklessly, leaving marks across her body in moments.

Tears welled in her eyes from the pain, but she bit down on her lip, refusing to cry out.

"Stop it!"

I panicked, rushing forward to pull Eugene away, but Freddy gripped my arm in a vice.

"They're just children playing. Why are you interfering? Eugene knows what he's doing. He won't hurt her."

My fury boiled over, tearing my voice raw.

"Elise is your daughter! Freddy, she's your own flesh and blood! How can you just watch her being beaten? How can you be so heartless?"

But he only turned his head, avoiding my eyes. His reply was soft, yet each word struck like a blade.

"Eugene is my son."

At that moment, Eugene drove his foot savagely into Elise's stomach.

She doubled over with a gasp, her face drained of all color.

"Elise!"

I screamed, my heart nearly stopping. She tried to shield her belly with trembling hands, but Lisa still held her in an iron grip, preventing her from protecting herself.

Eugene, thrilled by her helplessness, lifted his foot again, aiming at her already scraped knee.

"That's enough!"

At last, I tore free from Freddy's hold. I lunged forward, shoving Eugene aside and wrapping my daughter protectively in my arms.

She shook violently against me, her hands clutching at my clothes, her voice weak and broken.

"Mommy… it hurts…"

The push sent Eugene tumbling against a nearby table. He burst into loud wails, clutching his side.

Lisa rushed to him in a frenzy.

"My precious son! The Richmond heir! What if he's seriously hurt?" she shrieked, throwing a venomous glare my way. "Could you even afford to repay the damage?"

Seeing Lisa and Eugene clutching each other and weeping, Freddy's rage ignited. He raised his hand to strike me.

"Valerie! How could you be so vicious?"

But before the blow could land, a sudden commotion erupted at the grand entrance of the banquet hall.

A man strode in, clad in a black jacket, his presence radiating authority and command. His eyes were razor sharp, his aura brimming with unspoken power. A secretary carrying a briefcase followed closely at his side.

The potbellied vice president who had sneered at me earlier immediately straightened up, his demeanor transforming into obsequious awe. He scrambled forward, a sycophantic grin plastered on his face.

"Mr. Lindt! This is an unexpected honor, sir! Freddy, allow me to introduce the official I've told you about—the newly appointed Mr. Lindt."

But Freddy wasn't listening. He stood frozen, staring at the newcomer as if he'd seen a ghost. The color drained from his face.

"D-Dad…?"

Clutching my injured daughter tighter, I looked at the familiar, formidable figure. A sob caught in my throat, and the tears I had fought back all evening finally broke free, streaming down my cheeks.

"Dad…"