My husband took our six-year-old daughter on a fishing trip, but when his first love called, he left her alone to answer his phone. With no one watching her, our daughter fell into the sea, and we never recovered her body.

Heartbroken, I called him and begged him to return, but his voice was cold as he said, “Cheyenne, today’s Queenie's birthday. Can you stop being such a buzzkill?”

When I stumbled back home in despair, I found his first love clinging provocatively to him, a smug smile on her face. “What’s got you so upset, sis-in-law?” she sneered.

I let out a cold laugh and flipped the dining table over. “As long as you’re alive, I’ll never be happy.”

The lights on the search boats flickered in the distance while the reflective strips on the rescue team’s uniforms glimmered as they moved.

It had been eight hours since my daughter went missing. All that remained on the shore was a single small shoe.

My vacant eyes followed the rescue boats slowly returning to shore. The rescuers came one by one to offer their condolences. Looking at the endless darkness of the ocean, I couldn’t stop thinking how terrified my little Celeste must be at the bottom of the sea.

As though I were a broken doll stripped of its soul, I stumbled step by step toward the water as if in a trance. A quick-acting police officer pulled me back, forcing me to return home under their watch.

The entire villa was brightly lit, and the garden was adorned with flowers and decorations. Dressed in a pink princess gown with a crystal crown, Queenie Lane stood at the center of a lively crowd.

My husband, Sutton Cook, stood by her side, lovingly holding her hand as they cut the cake. “Here’s to you growing another year older—may you always be safe and sound, Queenie,” he said with a smile.

‘How ironic. Your Queenie gets to grow another year older while my daughter will never grow up again.’

“Ah, Cheyenne’s back!” Someone in the crowd spotted me, their tone mocking.

Queenie sliced a piece of cake and nestled against Sutton, her smile sickly sweet but piercing. “I didn’t want to disrupt your vacation, but Sutton insisted on rushing back for my birthday. On the phone, I even heard Celeste’s voice. Why didn’t she come back with you?”

Hearing my daughter’s name was like a knife twisting in my heart. She knew Sutton was with Celeste, yet she still urged him to abandon her just to come to celebrate with her. How cruel could she be?

I shoved open the half-closed door and stepped into the living room. My muddy shoes left ugly stains on the polished marble floor.

Sutton frowned in displeasure. “Why are you so filthy? Go and change before coming back for the cake.”

With a cold laugh, I ignored him and walked straight up to the dining table. With all my strength, I flipped it over.

The lavishly dressed crowd was instantly doused in soup and oil, their clothes ruined, their faces panicked. Screams filled the air as plates shattered, scattering shards across the floor.

“Now, who’s dirty?” I snarled, glaring venomously at the woman who had caused my daughter’s death.

Queenie’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. She crouched on the floor, picking up the ruined cake with trembling hands. “Cheyenne, what did I ever do to upset you?”

“You being alive upsets me,” I spat, enunciating every word with poison.

Perhaps it was the malice in my gaze that frightened her. Queenie staggered backward and fell into Sutton’s arms, her tearful eyes pitifully fixed on me.

Sutton’s anger erupted. “Apologize to Queenie now! Or I’ll never forgive you.”

I scoffed, my voice dripping with disdain. “And who do you think you are? Why would I care about your forgiveness?”

Sutton froze, staring at me in utter shock. The crowd around us gasped, their eyes filled with disbelief.

Everyone in our circle knew how deeply I loved Sutton. If he even so much as frowned, I’d rack my brain trying to cheer him up. Even when he blatantly favored Queenie under the pretense of being "siblings", I swallowed my resentment and said nothing.

Ultimately, in the end, my silence cost me my daughter’s life.

Perhaps feeling humiliated by my public defiance, Sutton raised his hand as if to strike me. I stared at him coldly, my face unflinching. “What? You’ve already killed our daughter. Are you going to kill me too?”

“What are you talking about?” His hand froze mid-air.

“Do you even know what happened to our daughter?”

Queenie sniffled, her lips trembling as she whimpered, “Brother was only celebrating my birthday. There’s no need to curse your own daughter like that.”

“Exactly,” chimed in one of Queenie’s friends indignantly. “Cheyenne, you’re going too far. Weren’t you the one who trapped Sutton into marriage by getting pregnant after he was too drunk to know better?”

Another voice joined in, seething with disdain, “Only a lowlife would stoop so low just to marry into wealth.”

Suddenly, a short-haired woman rushed forward and slapped me hard across the face. “What’s the point of showing mercy to someone this shameless? She’s just here to ruin Queenie’s birthday!”

“Where are the bodyguards? Get this filthy thing out of here!”

Despite knowing the truth, Sutton stayed silent as they humiliated me. Instead, he cradled Queenie protectively, speaking to her in a gentle voice without sparing me a single glance.

Everything changed after Queenie came back.

I still remember the night I went into labor with Celeste. My water broke early, and I was writhing in pain from contractions, but I couldn’t reach Sutton. I endured the excruciating agony alone, taking a cab to the hospital.

When the doctor said the baby was breeched for natural delivery and a family member had to sign off for surgery, I finally managed to get him on the phone.

However, instead of Sutton, it was Queenie’s teasing voice that had greeted me, “Sutton is busy brushing Baby’s fur. Do you need something?”

Through gritted teeth, I roared, “Get Sutton on the phone!”

Moments later, his icy tone came through the receiver. “Tell her I’m busy.”

‘My poor Celeste. Your father wasn’t there when you came into this world, and he wasn’t there when you left it either. It’s my fault for being so weak, for failing to win your father’s heart, and for letting you suffer his rejection too.’

The bodyguards closed in, surrounding me. Like a grief-stricken beast, I lashed out, biting and clawing to escape. I bit one man’s wrist so hard it bled, and he hissed in pain.

They hesitated, unsure whether to act against me. After all, I was still Sutton’s legal wife. Their eyes turned to Sutton, silently asking for instructions.

He looked at me deeply for a moment, then said, “Take her to the bedroom to rest. She can come out when she’s ready to apologize.”

The bodyguards restrained me and dragged me upstairs, locking me in the room. Downstairs, the music resumed, and laughter filled the air as though nothing had happened.

Curled up in the corner, hugging my knees, I stared out the window at the stars until my vision blurred.

Meeting Sutton hadn’t always been like this. Back then, security had dragged me out of an office building. One of them had even stepped on my face, shouting that if I caused any more trouble, they’d break my legs.

That was when Sutton had appeared like a god descending from the heavens. With a single kick, he had sent the security guard flying. His cold, commanding voice had silenced the crowd, forcing them to back off.

Then he had crouched down with a gentle gaze and scooped up my battered body. “It’s okay now. Don’t be afraid.”

Ignoring the murmurs of the crowd, he had carried me all the way to his office and gently set me down. Taking out a first aid kit, he grabbed some alcohol wipes and saline solution.

“It’s just some scrapes, nothing serious,” he said softly. “If it hurts, let me know, and I’ll be gentler.”

He knelt on one knee beside the sofa, his gaze focused as he cleaned my wounds. His touch was so delicate as though he was restoring a priceless treasure.

I looked at him, flustered. “Who are you? Why are you helping me?”

Lowering his head, he murmured, “Why don’t you tell me why those people were bullying you first?”

Anger flared in my chest. With a face full of rage, I recounted how the Verdant Group had commissioned a project from my father but kept delaying payment for various reasons.

As a result, my father was left financially strained and buried in debt.

He paused, his hands still, then asked for my father’s name before stepping aside to make a quiet phone call.

Not long after, a middle-aged man in a suit and tie entered the office. With a pale face, he dropped to his knees in front of me, apologizing profusely.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Posner. This was all due to my failure to manage my subordinates. I’ve just settled all outstanding payments for your father, and we’ll also assist in covering the debts incurred because of this. In addition, I will personally provide compensation for the mental distress caused. Does this arrangement work for you?”

Stunned, I stared at the man kneeling before me, then turned to Sutton, who stood silently nearby. In his eyes, I saw something shocking: a hint of tenderness.

Later, Sutton confessed his feelings for me. Since it all happened so suddenly, and given the huge gap between our social standings, I tried to avoid him.

I didn’t expect him to show up at my father’s construction site one day. He even risked his life to shield me from falling debris.

Sitting by his hospital bed, my heart ached as I looked at him. “I’m not worth all this.”

His gaze was filled with affection as he gently caressed my face, tracing my features with his fingers. “When it comes to you, it’s worth it.”

However, later, at the airport, I saw him embracing Queenie tightly. That woman, who wasn’t even biologically related to me, resembled me so much. It was then I realized that everything I thought was real had been a lie. A vast emptiness spread through me as if a part of me had been ripped away.

A knock on the door broke my thoughts. Sutton’s low voice came from outside. “Can I come in?”

I let out a cold laugh. Since when was he so polite?

Leaning against the wall, I stood up and walked over, yanking the door open to meet Sutton’s hazy gaze. He pushed me against the wall, his arms tightly wrapped around my waist, his breath warm against my neck.

“Why do you always have to throw tantrums?”

The stench of alcohol hit me, making my stomach churn with disgust. I struggled to push him away, but he forcefully pressed his lips against mine.

“Ah!” He winced and pulled back, covering his bloodied lips and glaring at me with a mix of anger and pain. His eyes cleared slightly.

I grabbed a glass of water from the table and splashed it onto his face. “Get out.”

Sutton’s bloodshot eyes fixed on me. “I just attended her birthday party. Do you really need to act like this?”

“Do you even realize that because of Queenie’s birthday, our daughter…”

“Our daughter, always going on about our daughter! Every time I spend time with Queenie, you use her as an excuse to stir up trouble. How many times do I have to tell you? She’s my adopted sister, not some random woman. Why do you always have to act so unreasonably?”

Sutton’s fist slammed into the wall, blood spreading across the surface. His dark, piercing gaze bore into me. “It seems you’re not ready to admit you were wrong. Stay here and reflect on your actions.”