To make sure Betty could deliver his child first, he'd let my baby be killed in my womb.

A ten-million-dollar check.

But I was tired of these games.

"Antony, I need to talk to you about something—"

"Antony!"

A bright, lilting voice cut through the air.

Betty walked over cradling a swaddled infant, a gentle smile on her face. When she noticed me, a flicker of surprise crossed her features.

"Lauren, you're out of the hospital?"

I turned to Antony. "Why is she in our home?"

Throughout my entire pregnancy, I had accepted the tangled relationship between Antony and Betty.

My only request had been simple: don't bring her here.

Even during our worst fights, our coldest silences—

Antony had never once brought her home.

But now.

Betty had moved in like she owned the place.

She was wearing my silk pajamas, sleeping in my master bedroom—the one I'd chosen for its perfect morning light.

Antony seemed displeased with my reaction. His brow furrowed.

"Betty just gave birth. She's weak. That rental she was staying in isn't suitable anymore."

"Besides, her son is the eldest child of the Gilbert family. There's no reason for him to be raised somewhere else."

"Betty will be living here from now on. If you want to be a proper Mrs. Gilbert, Lauren, you'll learn to get along with her."

"Otherwise—"

He let out a cold scoff, his eyes glinting with the casual contempt of a man who believed he held all the leverage.

"You can move back to the Gilbert estate yourself."

Silence from me.

Betty seized the opening, her voice dripping with false concern.

"Lauren, am I causing trouble by moving in?"

"I never meant to disrupt your home. I just wanted to be close to Antony so badly. And now that we have his child together, I only want to be near him."

Antony wrapped an arm around her waist, tender and indulgent.

"Why did you come downstairs? Let the nanny handle the baby. Go rest."

Watching them play house, perfectly in sync, perfectly rehearsed—

The word divorce climbed to the tip of my tongue. I swallowed it back down.

I nodded calmly.

"Fine. I'll move to the estate."

I turned and walked away without a backward glance.

Antony clearly hadn't expected me to agree so easily. He froze for a beat before finding his voice.

There was a note of bewilderment beneath his tone, threaded with something almost like frustration.

"Lauren, stop throwing a tantrum."

A tantrum?

I used to throw them. I used to argue, cry, beg.

I begged him to cut ties with Betty.

I begged him to think of the baby in my belly, to hold on to the last shred of dignity between us.

But all he ever saw was a nuisance. A woman too emotional, too clingy, unworthy of the title Mrs. Gilbert that he loved to lord over me.

Now that I'd stopped fighting, he didn't know what to do with me.

My feet stilled. I lifted my gaze to meet his, perfectly composed.

"I'm not throwing a tantrum, Mr. Gilbert. I told you—I can walk away with nothing."

Antony stared at me, the color slowly draining from his face.

He was probably remembering that day in the delivery room, when I had abandoned every last scrap of my pride, nearly on my knees before him.

Please. Please, spare our baby. I'll give everything to Betty—

Something clenched hard around his chest.

He was still standing there, frozen, when I disappeared down the hall.

While I packed, the housekeeper hovered nearby, visibly uneasy.

I kept my voice light. "Just a few changes of clothes. That's all I need. Leave everything else."

None of it would matter soon. Betty would claim every corner of this place.

Anything I left behind would only be an eyesore to her.

The driver asked quietly, "Ma'am, are you really going back to the estate?"

I stared at the house that had once held all my hopes. In the car window's reflection, I could see Betty nestled in Antony's arms. The image burned.

I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, there was nothing left but calm.

"Take me to the estate."

After all, I wouldn't be alone there.

There was someone else living under that roof. Someone who could help me.

That evening, I arrived at the Gilbert estate and told the housekeeper to set my luggage down and turn in for the night.

I didn't go to my room.

Instead, I took a detour and knocked on the study door in the other courtyard.

In three years of marriage, I had never once set foot in that study.

Because it belonged to Antony's older brother, Greg.

The two of them had been at each other's throats for years, locked in a bitter war over the family fortune. Antony had warned me more than once.

Don't talk to Greg. Don't go near him.

For three years, I'd treated those words like gospel. Whenever I crossed paths with Greg, I kept my distance.

But now that I'd been dragged to the edge of death and back, I finally understood who was human and who was the monster.

Three knocks.

The door swung open. Greg stood behind it, gold-rimmed glasses catching the light. He looked up, surprise flickering across his face.

"Lauren?"

He glanced past my shoulder. When he didn't see Antony, a dry laugh escaped him.

"Well, this is unexpected." He leaned against the doorframe. "Antony didn't come back, but here you are at the estate. And knocking on my door, no less."

Every other time I'd visited, Antony had been right beside me.

I saw no reason to hide the truth. "He threw me out."

Greg blinked. His brow furrowed as he studied me.

"So you came looking for me?"

I looked at the face in front of me, sharp-featured yet somehow gentle, and allowed myself a small smile. No point in dancing around it.

"I never properly thanked you for signing off on my surgery at the hospital." I held his gaze. "Tonight, I'm here to show my gratitude in a more meaningful way."

Greg went still. He stared at me for a long moment, then dipped his head with a quiet laugh.

"Interesting." He straightened. "And how exactly do you plan to show this gratitude?"

Greg was Antony's biological older brother, the true firstborn of the Gilbert family.

But his mother had died young, and the old patriarch had shipped him overseas. For years, he'd been kept on the margins, far from the family's inner circle of power.

Antony was the son of the second wife. Through cunning and manipulation, he had clawed his way into the CEO's chair at Gilbert Group, shoving Greg aside at every turn.

Everyone knew the two brothers were sworn enemies.

No matter how I looked at it, Greg was the perfect ally.

"I know everything." I met his eyes steadily. "I know you were never the villain in this story. The Gilbert fortune should have been yours. Antony stole it. I'll use every skill I have to help you take back what's rightfully yours."

I lifted my chin.

"Besides, no one alive knows Antony's weaknesses better than I do."

There was no calculation in Greg's gaze. Only honesty.

"What do you want in return?" His voice was low, almost hoarse.

"Revenge for my child."

My tone was even, but the certainty behind it left no room for argument.

"Antony killed my baby. I want him to know what it feels like to lose everything. To watch the people around him turn their backs, one by one, until his name is dirt and his empire is ash."

Greg studied me in silence for a long time.

Just when I thought he was going to refuse, his expression broke into a slow smile. He reached out and clasped my hand.

"Deal."

One week later, Antony arrived at the estate. His tone was casual, as if he were discussing the weather.

"Arrange a family banquet here. Three days from now, I'm bringing Betty and Michael to formally introduce them to everyone."

He wanted to give Betty a title. He wanted his illegitimate son to be placed above me, his lawful wife, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The old me would have crumbled. I would have screamed and cried and demanded to know how he could do this to me.

But now, I simply replied with perfect calm.

"Of course. I'll take care of everything."

My composure and obedience pleased Antony.

"Lauren, you've been so much more sensible lately. You're finally starting to look like a proper Mrs. Gilbert."

Three days later. The banquet at the Gilbert estate.

"Everyone, thank you for coming. I wanted to formally introduce someone." Antony's voice rang with pride as he addressed the room full of family elders. "Betty is a hero to the Gilbert family. She gave birth to the firstborn Gilbert son, my boy Michael. From now on, she and the child will be living here at the estate."

His gaze dropped to Betty, soft and indulgent.

Betty nestled against his chest, cradling the baby in her arms, basking in the congratulations flowing from every direction. She turned her eyes toward me, gleaming with triumph.

The Gilbert elders were clearly displeased with Betty's background, but for the sake of the child, none of them spoke up.

Antony believed this was the proudest moment of his life.

He walked over to me and raised his voice deliberately.

"Lauren, since you're Mrs. Gilbert, you'll raise Michael as your own from now on. After all, he's the only Gilbert bloodline we have."

He wanted to see me fall apart. He wanted to watch me lose control.

I picked up my wine glass, took a small sip, and spoke lightly.

"Antony, do you have some kind of humiliation fetish?"

The warmth drained from his face instantly.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

My smile only deepened.

"If you don't, then why are you parading around someone else's bastard and calling him a Gilbert?"