Vikki’s POV

The noise next door went on until three in the morning, keeping me wide awake and exhausted.

By dawn, my nerves were shot, and a sudden burst of shouting jolted me out of bed.

The door slammed open with a deafening bang. A small, round-faced child marched into my bedroom.

He started tugging at my hair and clothes, shouting, “Bad woman! You stole my daddy! I won’t let you! Get out of this house!”

I sat there, momentarily stunned.

I glanced out the window at the perfect pair outside. The memories of last night flashed through my mind, and something dark stirred inside me.

“Get out,” I said coldly. “Stop yelling in front of me. Your mommy and daddy won’t want you soon anyway—because they’ll be busy having new babies.”

The boy froze, then burst into tears, wailing at the top of his lungs.

“You’re a bad woman! I hate you!”

His cries quickly drew Tessa’s attention. She rushed into the room, scooping the child into her arms, cooing to comfort him while glaring at me.

“Gerard, Vikki’s gone too far this time! Taking it out on a kid? If she’s got a problem, she can come at me instead!”

And, as always, Gerard turned on me—furious, scolding me as if I’d committed some unforgivable sin.

“How could you fight a child? Didn’t I tell you before—no one can take your place as my wife? Why can’t you just listen? Sometimes I wonder if spending five million to marry you was even worth it.”

Before I could respond, he continued, his attention still fixed on Tessa and the boy.

“Acee likes cookies. Go bake him a few as an apology.”

I looked at the man standing before me, so tender and patient as he teased the child, and felt as though I was staring at a stranger.

“If you love that kid so much,” I said, “why don’t you bake the cookies yourself? Or does your love only ever stay in words?”

I had once asked him, more than once, if he wanted us to have a baby of our own. Every time, he refused.

Now, I understood—it wasn’t that he didn’t want a child. He just didn’t want me to be the one giving birth to them.

I got up, washed, and headed out.

Gerard glanced at me, assuming I’d gone to buy groceries, and said nothing.

It wasn’t until hours later, when I still hadn’t returned and the boy started crying from hunger, that Gerard finally lost his patience.

“Where the hell are you? Do you not think Acee’s starving? If you don’t come back soon, don’t bother stepping foot in this villa again. You’re unbelievably ungrateful!”

I ignored him completely.

Instead, I sat down with the divorce lawyer I had contacted, going over the agreement Gerard and I had signed in advance long ago.

As long as I submitted it to the county clerk’s office tomorrow morning, I’d have the divorce certificate.

“Vikki,” the lawyer said hesitantly, “this contract isn’t favorable to you at all. Are you sure you want to go through with the divorce?”

I didn’t answer. But I had never been more certain of anything in my life.

When I returned home, Tessa and Acee were gone.

Only Gerard remained, sitting on the couch, his expression clouded.

For the first time, he seemed to sense that something important was slipping away, and that he’d never get it back.

“You’re home,” he said. “Look—I bought you this bracelet. Do you like it? Don’t be mad anymore, alright? This was all part of my test for you. Once you’ve passed, we’ll finally be together forever.”

“Real love,” he added, “can withstand any test.”

Under the light, the sapphire bracelet gleamed with cold brilliance—luxurious and expensive.

But my heart felt like it had fallen into ice water.

I’d seen this exact bracelet on Tessa’s Instagram post yesterday: a comparison photo of a $1.50 knockoff and a $99,000 luxury piece.

She’d even captioned it. [Some people only deserve the cheap version.]

I hadn’t understood what she meant then.

I did now.

Maybe my expression gave me away because Gerard asked nervously.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”

I shook my head.

Then, he carefully clasped the bracelet around my wrist himself.

“See? It looks perfect on you. Anyway, Mom and Dad want us to come over for dinner. Go get ready. We’re heading to the old villa.”

For a brief moment, I froze.

So that was the point—the bracelet was just bait, a way to make me obedient, to make me go back to his parents’ place with him.

He must not want anyone there to find out about his affair with Tessa.

Too bad he’d forgotten—that place held nothing but painful memories for me.

Most of the time, I stayed as far away from it as possible.

Vikki’s POV

When I got back to the old villa, a strange chill crept over me. The place was just as I remembered—same familiar faces, except now there were two new ones: Tessa and Acee.

As soon as we walked in, Acee’s tiny legs carried him straight toward Gerard. He ran into his arms, and Gerard lifted him up with an affectionate smile.

“Gerard, Vikki, welcome back,” Mom greeted. “Today’s a great day—Tessa’s back, too! If someone here could finally give us a child, we’d really have double the joy.”

She meant to nag me again, her words full of dissatisfaction.

Tessa curved her lips into a smug smile. “Mom, don’t be mad. Acee, call her Grandma. Mom, just treat him like your real grandson.”

‘If only she knew he actually is her real grandson,’ I thought bitterly. ‘Would she still be this calm and kind?’

After dinner, the same old routine began again—pressuring me to have a baby.

“Vikki, you’re not getting any younger,” Mom said pointedly. “You’ve tried all sorts of remedies. Maybe it’s time for another hospital checkup.”

Before I could reply, Acee suddenly threw a tantrum when he heard that.

“No! No! I don’t want my daddy to have another baby!”

He burst into tears, clutching Gerard’s pant leg with all his might.

Everyone present had different reactions—some were watching the drama, some were angry.

“Sweetie,” Tessa bent down, wiping the tears off Acee’s face, “he’s not your daddy, remember?”

But Acee only cried harder. “No! You’re lying! He is my daddy! You even have his picture in your wallet!”

Dad’s face turned thunderous. His glare fixed on Tessa and the boy, the air thick with humiliation.

“Vikki,” he said sharply, “tell me this isn’t my son’s child.”

Gerard tugged at my sleeve under the table, his gaze threatening.

“Dad, Mom, this boy isn’t Gerard’s. He’s always with me. How could he have time for someone else?” I lied.

Mom’s eyes welled up with relief. She had always liked Tessa.

But Dad’s cold voice was unyielding. “The Blandings won’t be made a laughingstock. Get her out of this country. She’s never to return.”

Before anyone could react, the ashtray on the table flew through the air and struck Gerard’s shoulder with a heavy thud. He grunted, clearly in pain, but tried to hold it in.

“Gerard!” Tessa shouted, rushing to his side, completely forgetting about her son. “Are you okay?”

Her gentle hands came to rest on his shoulder, her voice soft and tender.

I stared at the scene in front of me, then suddenly stood up. “You know what? You’re the ones who look like a real family. I’ll leave you to it.”

I grabbed my bag and stormed toward the door.

“Gerard! What are you doing just standing there? Go after your wife! Now!” Dad urged, frustrated with his son.

But Gerard didn’t even move. His tone was cold and detached.

“She’s got that temper because you’ve spoiled her. Let her cool off. Who’s she taking her attitude out on every day?”

I walked out of my in-laws’ villa, got into the car I’d booked ahead of time, and told the driver to head straight for a private studio.

It was a place that specialized in creating hyper-realistic human replicas—so lifelike, they could easily be mistaken for the real thing.

“Ma’am, your data’s been collected,” the technician said. “Your order will be ready in seven days.”

I handed over the deposit without hesitation. Seven days from now, I’d be long gone.

Later, sitting leisurely in a café, I called my lawyer. “Attorney, how’s the information I asked you to gather?”

“Everything’s been collected according to your instructions,” he replied. “But we discovered something else—your mother’s caught up in a massive debt issue.”

“That’s impossible,” I muttered in disbelief. “She quit gambling years ago.”

“Well, it seems your husband encouraged her to start again. She now owes fifty million,” he explained.

What a husband! How could he do something so despicable?!

In my rage, I frantically dialed Gerard’s number. He was not picking up the phone until, after a few more rings, the call finally connected.

“Gerard!” I yelled over the speaker. “Are you out of your mind? My mom fought so hard to quit gambling, and you pushed her back into it? Don’t you really have any conscience?!”

When I got back to the old villa, a strange chill crept over me. The place was just as I remembered—same familiar faces, except now there were two new ones: Tessa and Acee.

As soon as we walked in, Acee’s tiny legs carried him straight toward Gerard. He ran into his arms, and Gerard lifted him up with an affectionate smile.

“Gerard, Vikki, welcome back,” Mom greeted. “Today’s a great day—Tessa’s back, too! If someone here could finally give us a child, we’d really have double the joy.”

She meant to nag me again, her words full of dissatisfaction.

Tessa curved her lips into a smug smile. “Mom, don’t be mad. Acee, call her Grandma. Mom, just treat him like your real grandson.”

‘If only she knew he actually is her real grandson,’ I thought bitterly. ‘Would she still be this calm and kind?’

After dinner, the same old routine began again—pressuring me to have a baby.

“Vikki, you’re not getting any younger,” Mom said pointedly. “You’ve tried all sorts of remedies. Maybe it’s time for another hospital checkup.”

Before I could reply, Acee suddenly threw a tantrum when he heard that.

“No! No! I don’t want my daddy to have another baby!”

He burst into tears, clutching Gerard’s pant leg with all his might.

Everyone present had different reactions—some were watching the drama, some were angry.

“Sweetie,” Tessa bent down, wiping the tears off Acee’s face, “he’s not your daddy, remember?”

But Acee only cried harder. “No! You’re lying! He is my daddy! You even have his picture in your wallet!”

Dad’s face turned thunderous. His glare fixed on Tessa and the boy, the air thick with humiliation.

“Vikki,” he said sharply, “tell me this isn’t my son’s child.”

Gerard tugged at my sleeve under the table, his gaze threatening.

“Dad, Mom, this boy isn’t Gerard’s. He’s always with me. How could he have time for someone else?” I lied.

Mom’s eyes welled up with relief. She had always liked Tessa.

But Dad’s cold voice was unyielding. “The Blandings won’t be made a laughingstock. Get her out of this country. She’s never to return.”

Before anyone could react, the ashtray on the table flew through the air and struck Gerard’s shoulder with a heavy thud. He grunted, clearly in pain, but tried to hold it in.

“Gerard!” Tessa shouted, rushing to his side, completely forgetting about her son. “Are you okay?”

Her gentle hands came to rest on his shoulder, her voice soft and tender.

I stared at the scene in front of me, then suddenly stood up. “You know what? You’re the ones who look like a real family. I’ll leave you to it.”

I grabbed my bag and stormed toward the door.

“Gerard! What are you doing just standing there? Go after your wife! Now!” Dad urged, frustrated with his son.

But Gerard didn’t even move. His tone was cold and detached.

“She’s got that temper because you’ve spoiled her. Let her cool off. Who’s she taking her attitude out on every day?”

I walked out of my in-laws’ villa, got into the car I’d booked ahead of time, and told the driver to head straight for a private studio.

It was a place that specialized in creating hyper-realistic human replicas—so lifelike, they could easily be mistaken for the real thing.

“Ma’am, your data’s been collected,” the technician said. “Your order will be ready in seven days.”

I handed over the deposit without hesitation. Seven days from now, I’d be long gone.

Later, sitting leisurely in a café, I called my lawyer. “Attorney, how’s the information I asked you to gather?”

“Everything’s been collected according to your instructions,” he replied. “But we discovered something else—your mother’s caught up in a massive debt issue.”

“That’s impossible,” I muttered in disbelief. “She quit gambling years ago.”

“Well, it seems your husband encouraged her to start again. She now owes fifty million,” he explained.

What a husband! How could he do something so despicable?!

In my rage, I frantically dialed Gerard’s number. He was not picking up the phone until, after a few more rings, the call finally connected.

“Gerard!” I yelled over the speaker. “Are you out of your mind? My mom fought so hard to quit gambling, and you pushed her back into it? Don’t you really have any conscience?!”