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.”

I furiously wiped my lips where he had touched, feeling my stomach churn violently until I couldn’t help but gag. Opening the drawer, I saw the divorce papers I had prepared long ago but never had the heart to take out.

Late at night, after tossing and turning, I finally mustered the courage to enter my daughter’s room.

“Mommy, what story are you telling me today?”

“Today, all the kids’ dads came to watch the performance at kindergarten except for mine…”

“Mommy, I folded so many little stars for you. They’ll keep you company forever.”

I held the glass jar, my dry eyes unable to squeeze out a single tear.

Taking out my suitcase, I carefully packed all of my daughter’s belongings. Page by page, I flipped through the photo album, caressing my daughter’s smiling face as I sat there until dawn. My limbs were numb and stiff, nearly making it impossible to stand. After a long moment, I finally dragged my suitcase out of the bedroom.

“Cheyenne, where are you off to so early?” Queenie asked, her face brimming with mockery.

I ignored her coldly and walked past, but she suddenly grabbed my suitcase and threw it down the stairs. My daughter’s belongings spilled out, shattering with loud crashes all over the floor.

My mind went blank as I rushed downstairs, frantically picking up the broken stars.

Queenie leisurely descended the stairs, stepping on my hand. “You poor peasants really don’t belong in high society. You treat this pile of trash like it’s some kind of treasure.”

I struggled desperately, but the bodyguard behind me pinned me down with an iron grip.

Queenie picked up a card and smirked. “‘Celeste wishes Mommy a happy birthday,’” she read aloud mockingly.

With a laugh, she tore the card into pieces and threw them in my face. “But I’m not happy.

“I’ll help you burn this trash,” she said, flicking a lighter on and off in front of me tauntingly.

My eyes burned with rage as I glared at her. “Don’t you dare!” Alas, no matter how much I struggled, I couldn’t break free.

She lit a photograph to provoke me, and as I watched my daughter’s face consumed by flames, it felt like my heart was being torn in two. At that moment, I was forced to truly accept that my daughter was gone, completely and irrevocably.

“I beg you, please don’t. These are the last things Celeste left for me,” I pleaded, my eyes bloodshot with despair.

Queenie grabbed my chin and slapped me several times, her voice dripping with venom.

“How could Sutton choose cheap trash like you to replace me?”

She yanked my hair, her face twisted with madness as she laughed at the bodyguards behind her maniacally. “Strip her. Let’s see how she dares to cling to my brother after this.”

Fear and hatred surged in my heart as I curled up on the floor, clutching my clothes tightly.

Unfortunately, my feeble strength was no match for the natural physical advantage of men. The sound of fabric tearing and the vulgar laughter of the bodyguards drove me to the brink of despair.

For a moment, I even shamefully wished Sutton would appear to save me.

Suddenly, the force pressing me down eased. I broke free, clutching my daughter’s belongings tightly to my chest.

Queenie leaned in close and whispered, “I purposely lured Sutton away. Your daughter deserved to die long ago.”

In an instant, the noisy world went silent. I lunged at Queenie, my hands gripping her neck tightly. “You’re the one who deserves to die!”

“Cheyenne, are you crazy?” Sutton suddenly appeared, pulling me off her and shielding Queenie in his arms.

Queenie clutched her throat, coughing violently as she looked at Sutton with feigned weakness. “I was just trying to help her clean up,” she said softly.

Sutton glared at me in fury. “Take her upstairs and confine her,” he ordered.

How ridiculous. He had eyes but couldn’t see, utterly blind to my injuries yet quick to believe Queenie’s pathetic lies.

I grabbed a knife from the coffee table, glaring at the approaching bodyguards with a cold intensity. “What gives you the right to take away my freedom?”

“The fact that I’m your husband,” Sutton said sternly.

I let out a cold laugh and threw the divorce papers in his face. “Not anymore.”

Sutton stared at me in disbelief, picking up the papers and flipping through them repeatedly. “Have you thought about Celeste before doing this?” he asked.

I looked at him indifferently, searching his face for traces of the man I once loved. After a long time, I gave up. With a lifeless voice that took every ounce of strength, I said, “Celeste fell into the ocean the day you celebrated Queenie’s birthday.”

Dragging my suitcase, I ignored Sutton’s pale face and walked past him without looking back.

Behind me, his panicked voice rang out. “Go! Find my daughter now!”