Seven years after my daughter's birth, my husband, Dario Finley, stormed the island with hundreds of bodyguards and killed the villains who had imprisoned me.

As we departed, Dario demanded I relinquish custody of our daughter, Irene Blair, "This child carries the blood of a sinner. Bringing her home will only remind you of those painful memories."

All these years later, he still refused to believe me. I firmly refused and insisted on taking my daughter back.

Upon returning home, I discovered a boy bearing a striking resemblance to Dario. He claimed it was Jerry Raid, an orphan he'd adopted.

Jerry looked down on Irene, forcing her to play games where he'd win and she'd lose.

He threw himself into the arms of the housekeeper, Cecilia Reid, mocking Irene, "My real dad tucks me in every night, but your dad's dead on that island!"

Irene looked at me helplessly, her suspicion coiling like a venomous snake in my heart, suffocating me.

"My dad gave my mom the biggest diamond ring in the world, but your mom's just a poor thing with nothing."

Seeing the diamond ring Dario had once promised to buy for me now on Cecilia's finger, the blood drained from my face. I quickly scooped up Irene and retreated to our room.

When Dario returned and saw Jerry crying, I hid in the living room and heard Cecilia angrily say, "Get that filthy brat out of here! I don't want our son living with a bastard!"

Dario laughed coldly, "I won't let Irene live. As for Valerie, I brainwashed her countless times during those years I kept her under house arrest."

"Once she breaks down mentally and loses her ability to care for herself, I'll inherit the entire Blair Family fortune."

So, Jerry really was their son and Dario despised us this much!

If that was the case, I did not need him to be my daughter's father.

I immediately dialed my father's number and said, "I regret it. I want a divorce to marry into the Mathews Family. Come get me now!"

***

When Dario stormed onto the island with his bodyguards, I was overjoyed.

After seven agonizing years of longing, tormented by memories on the island, I never forgot that my true husband was Dario.

"Mom, I brought the police."

Dirty and disheveled, Irene clutched my fingers tightly, trembling with fear.

My gaze swept past the black-clad officers and bodyguards, settling on Dario—who stood barehanded, twisting the villain's arm behind his back.

Tears streamed down my face, unable to hold back any longer.

"Dario..."

Before I could finish his name, the thug suddenly pulled a dagger from his pocket and lunged straight for Dario's throat.

My heart skipped a beat as a familiar wave of terror washed over me.

Fortunately, Dario was agile. He kicked the vicious thug hard, sending him crashing to the ground.

By the time the police rushed over to apprehend him, they found the assailant had been stabbed through the heart by his own dagger, dead on the spot.

"Dario!" I threw myself into the arms of the man I'd longed for day and night, "Thank goodness, Irene finally found her real dad!"

But for a moment, he froze, his stiff back feeling strangely unfamiliar.

"I was just about to tell you about Irene." Dario deliberately pushed me away slightly, his expression unusually stern, "This child carries the blood of a criminal. Given your unstable mental state, it's best to send her straight to the orphanage!"

My heart jolted violently and I stared blankly at the man before me.

My gaze inadvertently fell upon the crimson mark on his neck and in that instant, everything clicked into place.

So, during my seven-year disappearance, he hadn't been searching for me—he'd long since abandoned me to live with another woman.

Trust crumpled like paper; with one flippant remark, he condemned Irene as the child of a sinner.

But only I knew the truth wasn't that simple.

"I refuse!" My cold, resolute refusal burst from my lips.

A flicker of shock crossed Dario's face.

"If you won't take Irene home, then I won't go back either!"

The man frowned, pondered for a moment, then finally gave a resigned smile. He wrapped his arms around me and Irene, then we boarded the boat.

Returning to the home I'd remembered countless times in my dreams, I felt nothing but strangeness.

The garden once filled with my beloved white magnolias now bloomed with vibrant red roses.

"You must be the lady who just returned from the island."

As soon as we entered the courtyard, a young woman in a business skirt suit blocked our path.

Her delicate lashes fluttered like butterfly wings, the corners of her eyes arched with a mix of arrogance and sensuality. Yet as she spoke to me, her gaze drifted toward Dario.

"I'm Mr. Finley's personal housekeeper, Cecilia Reid."

I stared at her intently, instinctively sensing danger emanating from this woman.

"Take the child upstairs to rest first. Don't let her disturb Jerry upstairs," Dario barked the order at her, his eyes glistening with a sticky, viscous sheen.

I quickly gathered Irene into my arms and said firmly, "Irene will sleep with me tonight. No need for you to trouble yourself."

"No, Irene is so dirty. She's still that man's..." Dario cut himself off mid-sentence, noticing Cecilia covering her mouth in disgust.

"The little girl's too noisy. She'll disturb your recovery."

Watching their indignant expressions, I couldn't help but snap, "If you don't agree, I'll sit in the living room all night."

With that, I scooped up my daughter and strode into the living room without looking back.

"Daddy…"

No sooner had I entered than a sleepy-eyed little boy came dashing down the stairs.

He stumbled and threw himself into Dario's arms, his chubby fingers poking straight at my forehead, "Who are these two people?"

I studied him curiously. His childish face bore a striking resemblance to Dario's, sharing seven out of ten features.

A wave of doubt washed over me. I couldn't help but tighten my hold on my daughter and asked Dario coldly, "This child calls you Dad?"

Dario gave a dry chuckle and ruffled the boy's hair as he answered, "Valerie, this is my adopted son, Jerry."

Then he bent down and urged softly, "Jerry, call her Mom!"

The boy scowled, glared at me angrily, then turned to Cecilia and Dario, "I don't want this dirty woman as my mom!"

Hearing the word "dirty," a sharp pain stabbed my heart.

Memories of being tormented by villains on the island instantly resurfaced, filling me with terror.

I instinctively looked toward Dario.

But Cecilia, who had just walked over, blocked my view. She took Jerry from Dario's arms without asking.

While soothing the child with practiced ease, she turned to me with regret in her eyes and said, "Madam, I'm truly sorry. Jerry is still young. Please don't take his words to heart."

Dario, who had been quietly observing me, finally spoke up to mediate, "Valerie, take Irene upstairs to rest first. Also, don't take Jerry's words to heart."

My throat felt tight and sour and I couldn't help but smile bitterly inside.

After seven years apart, in his eyes I'd become this petty, mean woman.

Dario pushed me upstairs. Once back in the room, I immediately gave Irene and myself a hot bath.

Opening the wardrobe, I found it starkly empty except for two guest pajamas hanging inside.

Suddenly, I felt like an unwanted outsider—at least in this household, I was clearly not welcome.

That night, Dario made a token appearance in our room to say goodnight.

As he turned to leave, I wrapped my arms tightly around his chest from behind, my voice soft and tempting, "Stay, please?"

Dario froze for a moment, then the click-clack of high heels echoed outside the door.

He immediately pushed my hands away and refused, "Not tonight. I'm afraid you're too tired."

His cool fingertips brushed my cheek. I smiled faintly, pretending nothing had happened.

Cecilia passed by the doorway, her eyes flashing with seething jealousy as she glanced at us.

"Sir, Jerry is looking for you. He wants you to tell him a bedtime story."

"Alright, I'll be right there."

With that, Dario withdrew his hand, gave me a faint smile and left.

Later that night, I heard the cheerful laughter of Dario and Cecilia drifting from Jerry's room.

Holding my daughter close in the spacious bed, a bitter ache lingered in my heart, refusing to fade.

I was clearly Dario's wife, yet through the long night, he was keeping another woman company.

I lay awake all night. The next morning, I woke to the sound of dogs barking downstairs.

After breakfast, Irene rushed impatiently to the garden to see the dog.

Jerry was walking the Black dog and shot Irene a disgusted glare, "Get lost! You filthy thing, don't block my path with Black!"

With that, he slammed the frisbee he was holding hard onto Irene's head.

It made Irene cry out in pain, so I rushed out to hug and comfort her.

Jerry let Black lunge at us instead, cackling maliciously, "Hahaha, serves you right."

"Black, teach them a lesson!"

The dog, nearly as tall as a person, leapt over us in one mighty bound. Terrified, I screamed and fell to the ground.

"Jerry, stop this nonsense!"

Dario emerged from the house carrying his briefcase. Seeing the disheveled state of Irene and me, he hurried over to help us up.

"Valerie, are you hurt?"

I shook my head. As I rose, I caught sight of several new red marks on his neck.

Jealousy surged like a venomous snake, coiling around my heart until I felt suffocated.

Just as I stood up, Cecilia approached, her back straight and makeup flawless, "Madam, you shouldn't be out walking at this hour."

"Black has a cleanliness obsession. Jerry isn't allowed to have anyone in the garden when he walks the dog every morning."

"Exactly! Dad, hurry up and send them away now."

Jerry haughtily grabbed Dario's large hand.

I expected Dario to at least scold them, but instead, I heard him reprimand me, "Valerie, you're still sick. How could you wander around like this?"

My palm burned fiercely, the hand I'd scraped in the fall now covered in blood.

Clenching my fists, I sneered, "In your eyes, am I now less than an animal?"

Before he could answer, I picked up the flying disc from the ground and slammed it hard onto Black's head.

The dog let out a few howls of pain and collapsed to its knees.

Jerry, furious, shielded Black and roared at me, "You crazy woman! How dare you hit Black?! I..."

Before he could finish, a sharp "smack" echoed.

My palm landed instantly on his tender little face and the child burst into wails.

"Valerie, how could you pick a fight with a child?" Dario quickly grabbed my arm, saying helplessly yet with some irritation, "If you're feeling unwell, I'll have a doctor come treat you tomorrow!"

With that, he picked up his phone to instruct his secretary.

Cecilia curled her lips, shooting me a smug glance, "Madam, I hear your mental state is quite unstable. Perhaps you should rest indoors more often from now on!"

Fuming with rage, I snapped, "None of your business!" before scooping up Irene and heading upstairs.

At lunchtime, Cecilia didn't come to call us. Instead, she sent someone to deliver the meal, instructing us to eat in our room.

Seeing the few dishes with a thin film of oil on the plates, a bitter taste filled my mouth.

"Mom, didn't you say Dad would be good to us? Why won't he even give us a chicken drumstick?"

Irene struggled to chew the potato in her mouth, frowning in complaint.

I set down my chopsticks, stroked her cheek and comforted her, "Don't worry, I'll go get you some meat."

With that, I got up and went downstairs.

In the dining room, Cecilia sat at the table serving food onto Jerry's plate.

"In this household, are you the mistress, or am I?" I deliberately raised my voice, interrupting their feast.

Jerry slammed down his chopsticks angrily, pointing at me and roaring, "You filthy woman! Didn't Cecil forbid you from coming downstairs to eat?"

I sneered without a word, slamming my hand down hard on the table.

Then, under everyone's stunned gaze, I yanked the tablecloth off the table.

A dozen or so dishes crashed to the floor with a clatter. Tapping my fingers lightly on the table, I challenged Cecilia, "What do you say, Cecil?"

Cecilia's face twisted in anger, yet her features remained exquisitely beautiful.

She soothed Jerry and forced a polite smile, "Of course, you’re the mistress, Madam. Please don't be upset. Just tell me what you'd like to eat and I'll see to it."

I curled my lips into a cold smile and casually pointed at the wreckage on the floor. "Six dishes and one soup, each with a different type of meat. I also want milk and a dessert with at least five types of fresh fruit in the afternoon fruit platter. Got it?"

Cecilia forced down the anger in her eyes and replied, "Understood, Madam."

But the moment she turned away, a sinister smile spread across her face.

That afternoon, just as Irene and I woke up, Dario's secretary arrived to take us for a physical exam.

"Madam, Mr. Finley is waiting at the entrance."

Only upon stepping outside did we discover Dario had arranged another car for us.

"Since you two aren't feeling well, I'll have the driver take it easy. Irene and I will head to the hospital ahead of you."

With that, he slammed the car door shut.

Sitting in the car with my daughter in my arms, I watched Dario's car disappear into the distance, my mind filled with suspicion.

Not long after leaving the villa complex, Irene started crying and complaining of stomach pain. I too felt a dull ache in my abdomen, though not as severe as hers.

"Driver, hurry up! My daughter's sick—it might be appendicitis!"

Unexpectedly, the driver showed no reaction. Instead, he impatiently scolded us, "Madam, Mr. Finley specifically instructed me not to drive too fast because you two suffer from severe motion sickness."

"You'll just have to endure it a little longer. We'll be at the hospital soon."

But Irene in my arms was already pale with pain, beads of sweat rolling down her forehead.

My heart ached for her. I pounded the back of the driver's seat and urged him, "We can't wait any longer. My daughter's condition is critical—I fear for her life!"

The driver, however, slowly dialed Dario's number. 

A cold voice came through the receiver, "The lady's not in the best state. Ignore her and keep going at the same speed."