In reality, this shifty-looking man was nothing more than an actor Amy had paid to put on a show.

The moment he spotted Amy approaching with Madge and me, his performance kicked into high gear. He turned to the gathering crowd, voice rising with practiced distress. "Why would I lie about something like this?"

"I was walking along the shore last night—I saw it with my own eyes! A man lost his footing and fell into the sea." His hands trembled convincingly. "I wanted to save him, I really did, but the waves were brutal. The moment he hit the water, the current dragged him under. There was nothing I could do!"

"Look—" He fumbled for his phone, swiping to a photo and thrusting the screen toward the onlookers. "I even managed to snap a picture of him before it happened!"

The face in the photograph was unmistakably Theo's.

Amy let out a strangled gasp and lunged forward, snatching the phone from his hands. She stared at the screen, then whipped around to face Madge and me, her voice cracking with manufactured panic. "It's really him—it's Mr. Mason! Something terrible has happened to him!"

Madge and I played our parts flawlessly, our faces crumpling with shock and grief.

By nightfall, news of Theo Mason's tragic drowning had spread across every social platform in the city.

And riding that same digital wave came something else—whispers, then shouts, accusing me of cheating on my husband during our marriage.

Theo was making his move from the shadows.

I knew exactly where he was hiding: tucked away in Amy's apartment, waiting for us to take the bait. All Madge and I had to do was show up with witnesses, and we'd catch him red-handed.

But we didn't.

Over the following days, Amy threw herself into her role with nauseating dedication. She fussed over Madge constantly—Are you eating enough? You look so pale—while shooting me looks of barely concealed disgust. She made sure to mention the online rumors about my alleged affair, always within Madge's earshot, always with that infuriating air of innocent concern.

I found Theo's diary too—the one he'd planted for me to discover, pages dripping with fabricated heartbreak and carefully constructed lies. I read every word.

Then I smiled and tucked it away for safekeeping.

In front of Amy, Madge and I gave her exactly what she wanted to see: a mother-in-law and daughter-in-law at each other's throats. We argued. We snapped. We let the venom fly until Amy was utterly convinced we'd destroyed each other.

What Amy didn't know was that behind closed doors, Madge and I had already made a quiet trip to the Police Bureau.

Why?

To officially register Theo Mason as deceased.

In my previous life, after Theo's fake death, both Madge and I had been drowning in grief—easy targets for Amy's manipulation. It never occurred to either of us to file the paperwork that would legally erase him.

That oversight cost us everything.

When Madge suddenly fell ill from the slow-acting poison, when I was thrown out with shattered limbs and nothing to my name—Theo had waltzed back into existence and claimed her entire fortune without a single obstacle.

Not this time.

Now Theo Mason was officially dead. A ghost in the system.

And ghosts can't inherit anything.

The Police Bureau wasn't our only stop. Madge and I also visited the Notary Office.

All of it done in secret. All of it invisible to Amy's watchful eyes.

On the surface, our war continued to escalate. We even staged a few public screaming matches for good measure.

One month after Theo's "drowning," Madge and I delivered our masterpiece.

A spectacular, very public meltdown.

I was thrown out of the mansion in disgrace. Madge collapsed and was rushed to the hospital, reportedly devastated by her ungrateful daughter-in-law's betrayal.

The internet devoured every detail.

Meanwhile, in Amy's apartment, Theo lounged in his pajamas with Amy draped across his lap. He scrolled through the headlines about our falling out, a slow, satisfied grin spreading across his face.

"It's happening," he murmured, pulling her closer. "Myra and my dear adoptive mother have finally torn each other apart. Our plan is almost complete."

He nuzzled Amy's hair, still scrolling. "I know that old woman better than anyone. She puts on this gentle facade, but underneath? Steel. She built that empire from nothing through sheer force of will. A woman like that would never tolerate a daughter-in-law who cheated on her precious son."

His grin sharpened. "Keep the pressure on. Flood the networks with more rumors about Myra's affair. Throw in some stories about her badmouthing me and my mother after getting kicked out." He chuckled, dark and low. "The old bat will send someone to break every bone in Myra's body. And then..."

He didn't need to finish the sentence.

Amy smiled against his chest, already reaching for her phone.

Amy nodded, a cold smirk twisting her lips. "Better yet, we could just kill Myra outright. That way, your dear foster mother won't escape legal consequences either—"

"No." Theo cut her off with a sharp shake of his head. "If my foster mother ends up in prison, when would I ever get my hands on her fortune?"

He began to pace, his voice dropping to a bitter mutter. "All these years, she's kept an iron grip on everything. Even though I grew up right beside her, she never fully trusted me. I don't even know exactly how much she's worth."

His eyes hardened. "So my foster mother has to die."

"Only when she's dead will I inherit everything."

A satisfied smile crept across his face. "Before I staged my death, I'd already been lacing her premium bird's nest congee with a slow-acting poison. She can't sleep without drinking a bowl every night."

"Right now, everyone thinks she's hospitalized because Myra upset her." He let out a low laugh. "But the truth is, she's been poisoned. It won't be long before she's gone for good."

"And even if the doctors discover the toxins?" He spread his hands. "They'll assume Myra did it out of spite. It'll never trace back to me."

Amy's eyes lit up with barely contained excitement. "Theo, you're brilliant! Once your plan succeeds, we can finally—"

His phone buzzed, cutting her off.

Theo glanced at the screen, answered, and listened for barely three seconds before grabbing Amy and kissing her hard. "My contact at the hospital says she's fading fast!"

He was already pulling her toward the door. "We need to get there now—she has to write that will before she goes!"

They arrived at the hospital within the hour.

A heavyset middle-aged doctor was waiting at the entrance. The moment he spotted them, he hurried over, his voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "You're finally here. Any later and you might've missed her entirely."

Theo's face broke into barely concealed delight. "She's really that far gone?"

Dr. Warren Holt nodded grimly. "She won't make it through the night. Severe poisoning. Multiple organ failure. She's conscious now, but that could change any moment—"

Before the doctor could finish, Theo was already dragging Amy through the hospital doors, his mind racing ahead to the performance of a lifetime: the devoted son, devastated by grief.

As they rushed down the corridor toward the private wing, he fired off instructions.

"When we get to the room, follow my lead. Don't break character."

"And rub some ginger under your eyes—we need real tears. It won't look right otherwise."

"Whatever happens, we walk out of there with her assets. Understood?"

He pulled out a piece of fresh ginger he'd brought for exactly this purpose and began rubbing it beneath his eyes. Amy grimaced but followed suit.

By the time they reached the VIP ward, both of their eyes were red and streaming.

But when they rounded the corner to the private suite, they stopped dead.

The corridor outside the room was packed.

Every single one of the executives who managed the old woman's empire stood there, silent and still. And every single one of them was watching Theo and Amy approach.

Their expressions were... strange.

"Must be because they heard she's dying," Amy whispered, recovering first. "They rushed over to pay their respects."

She squeezed Theo's arm, her voice bright with anticipation. "Once you have that will in hand, you'll be their new boss."

Theo liked that reasoning. He arranged his features into a mask of grief and approached the eldest of the group—a steady-eyed man named Bruce Kane who'd been with the family for decades.

"Uncle Bruce." Theo's voice cracked artfully. "I came as soon as I heard."

He dabbed at his ginger-reddened eyes. "How is she? She was always so healthy—I don't understand how this could happen so suddenly."

Neither Theo nor Amy noticed the way Bruce's gaze flickered over them.

Nor did they catch the looks exchanged among the other executives—the barely concealed contempt, the quiet disgust rippling through the crowd.

Bruce's voice was flat, betraying nothing. "The chairwoman's been asking for you. You should go in."

Theo and Amy rushed to push open the door.

Their faces were masks of grief, tears streaming down their cheeks.

Amy's voice cracked with a sob. "Chairwoman, Mr. Mason is back—he's alive! Please, you have to hold on!"

Theo wailed as if his heart were being torn from his chest. "Mother, your son has failed you, I—"

The words died in his throat.

He and Amy stood frozen in the doorway, stunned into silence.