“It’s already evening. We should go,” Sheldon stood up first.

If his secretary hadn’t reminded him of his schedule, he might have forgotten what day it was entirely.

Stacey glanced at him from the corner of her eye, calculating, pleased. She was thinking about how to keep him focus on her tonight—just as she had promised yesterday in the hospital.

Sheldon’s mother smiled warmly. “I hope Lizzie and Diego can visit Grandma again soon. I love having a house full of children.”

“Sure, Mom,” Stacey replied sweetly. “I’ll bring them over sometimes.”

Sheldon’s mother reached for Stacey’s hand, her voice gentle. “I’m so happy to have you and Diego in our family. Take good care of yourself during the pregnancy. Ask me anything if you need advice.”

“I will, Mom,” Stacey answered softly.

On the way back to Stacey’s apartment, Lizzie and Diego fell asleep from exhaustion, heads tilted toward each other.

The car grew quiet.

That was when Stacey spoke.

“Honey,” she said lightly, eyes fixed on the road ahead, “you’ll do to me what you did to Reba someday too, right?”

Sheldon chuckled. His hand slid onto her thigh—deliberately exposed, deliberately inviting.

“Are you jealous?” he asked lazily. “After everything I’ve done for you?”

Stacey pouted. “She has her name on your brand. But me?” She sighed. “I’m just your brand ambassador. Nothing more.”

He squeezed her thigh. “Then how about this,” he said casually. “For your next birthday, I’ll buy you a building. Name it after you.”

She turned to him, eyes lighting up. “You promise?”

He nodded.

“Then seal it,” Stacey said, leaning closer.

Sheldon kissed her without hesitation.

They finally reached the apartment lobby.

Sheldon loosened her seatbelt. “Come upstairs and prepare for tonight’s event. I should go home and—”

Stacey already knew what he was about to say.

She pressed a hand to her forehead and swayed slightly. “Honey… I feel dizzy.” Her voice softened. “These pregnancy hormones—I don’t think I can manage alone tonight.”

She leaned into him, fragile and dependent. “Will you stay with me today?”

Worry flickered across Sheldon’s face. In the end, he gave in.

He sent me a message, brief and careless—telling me to attend the event alone. The driver would pick me up.

Lizzie didn’t come home either. She stayed at Stacey’s apartment, sleeping beside Diego.

Tonight’s event was massive. Reporters swarmed for the launch of Carter Group’s newest product. Every detail had to be flawless—especially Stacey, the brand ambassador.

All preparations were done at Stacey’s apartment.

Stylists came and went. Makeup artists hovered. Dresses, jewelry, shoes—each chosen with Sheldon’s personal approval. He spared no expense, indulging her every preference.

By the time everything was ready, night had already fallen.

They left together.

Sheldon felt a trace of exhaustion, but the driver had been sent for me. So he drove alone.

Stacey’s preparations had taken far longer than planned. She kept asking for breaks, blaming discomfort, blaming hormones. In the end, they departed only minutes before the event was set to begin.

His phone rang again—his secretary, urgency sharp in her voice.

Not wanting to make a poor impression before partners and the public, Sheldon pressed harder on the accelerator.

The car sped through the night.

But trouble followed them into the car.

Lizzie and Diego began fighting over a toy. Their voices rose, sharp and relentless.

Stacey couldn’t stay quiet either. She complained nonstop, pressing a hand to her stomach, muttering about how unbearable the twins were—even before they were born.

The noise filled the car, heavy and chaotic.

It distracted Sheldon as he drove.

For a fleeting moment, he thought of me.

If it were Reba, this wouldn’t have happened.

I always prepared Lizzie carefully for events like this. For a four-year-old, a long night event meant exhaustion and tears. So I made sure she slept during the day.

Before leaving, I fed her her favorite meal and snacks. A full stomach kept her calm, kept her smiling.

I never gave Lizzie overstimulating toys. No loud sounds. No flashing lights.

I chose activity books and educational tablets—things that helped her emotions, her coordination.

That was why Sheldon once wanted many children with me. Because I knew how to care.

But fate was cruel. I could only give him Lizzie—for my entire life.

Then another thought crossed his mind.

‘That’s fine,’ he reassured himself. ‘When Stacey’s child is born, Reba will help take care of them. She loves children. She definitely will.’

Too bad, Sheldon.

By the time that thought formed, I had already left you and Lizzie behind.

His drifting mind was dragged back by the noise. Lizzie and Diego were still arguing. Stacey clutched her head, complaining about the screaming, her voice sharp, impatient.

Instead of calming the children, she joined the tantrum, her tone no calmer than theirs.

Finally, Sheldon snapped.

“Shut up, both of you!” he shouted, turning around to glare at the backseat.

He kept lecturing them, his attention fixed behind him until Stacey screamed, “Sheldon, brake!”

Too late.

The car ahead was too close to them.

Bang!

Stacey sat frozen, shock hollowing her chest as she watched the car they had hit lose control.

It spun wildly, slammed into the road divider, then plunged into the ravine—disappearing into the darkness.

“Shit!” Sheldon roared, his voice exploding inside the car. “Can you all shut up and stop distracting me while I’m driving? Why are you all so annoying?”

His grip tightened on the wheel. “We’re already late. There’s still so much to deal with. So shut up!”

Lizzie and Diego fell silent at once. Fear sealed their lips.

They had never seen their father lose his temper like that. In their world, their parents had always loved them endlessly—enough to give them whatever they wanted.

Lizzie liked going with Sheldon to see Stacey. With him, rules disappeared. She could eat anything, stay up late, and do as she pleased.

I was the one she feared most. With Daddy, she felt she always had the upper hand.

Diego, on the other hand, had never learned fear at all. Stacey spoiled him without restraint. As long as he followed her instructions, everything he wanted was handed to him.

From attending courses before he could even form full sentences, to doing exercises far beyond his age, Diego obeyed—because obedience was rewarded.

Neither child understood right or wrong. They only knew benefits and losses. That was the adults’ failure—teaching them desire, but never consequences.

They didn’t know that people could make mistakes. That sometimes, being wrong was allowed.

So at that moment, when Sheldon shouted, they believed something terrifying.

That their father might no longer love them.

And if love disappeared, so would their privileges.

Their world felt like it was collapsing.

Too afraid to cry aloud, they stayed frozen in their seats, shoulders trembling, tears silently spilling as they clutched their hands together in the dark.

While Stacey’s voice trembled despite herself. “Sheldon… where did that car go?” The words spilled out before she could stop them. “Did it fall into the ravine?”

“Shut up,” Sheldon snapped. “And don’t tell anyone.”

His eyes were cold. “You were involved too. As long as you keep quiet, this won’t come out. Do you understand?”

He slammed his foot down on the accelerator and fled the scene.

It was nearly midnight. He couldn’t afford delays over something so trivial—or so he thought.

After all, it was just an accident. And accidents could be settled with money.

He had always believed that. As long as he had money, everything could be handled easily, that was what he learned since childhood.

Sometimes, family tradition was something too terrifying to understand by some people.

But that was how he was raised.

Still, through the rear window, Stacey caught a glimpse of red—bright, violent—flickering in the distance, as if the car were burning.

Her heart dropped.

This wasn’t just a crash. This was death.

And she was part of it.

Stacey shut her eyes tightly, forcing her breathing to steady.

“As long as I say nothing,” she told herself, “everything will be fine.”

Behind Stacey, Lizzie and Diego could only sob in silence. They didn’t dare cry aloud. Sheldon’s earlier roar still echoed in their ears.

At an intersection, the car stopped at a red light.

Sheldon picked up his phone and called his secretary. “I hit someone by accident,” he said flatly. “Handle it for me. I’ll be at the event soon. Make sure no one finds out.”

Then the light turned green. He drove on.

He never asked who he hit. Never cared what happened next.

Watching from afar, the agent I hired shook his head slowly. Even he hadn’t imagined someone could be this indifferent.

Minutes later, sirens pierced the night.

Police cars arrived. Firefighters. An ambulance.

Another car stopped nearby. A woman stepped out, heels clicking against the road. Sheldon’s secretary.

She had come thinking it was just a minor accident. But when she saw the wreckage—twisted metal, scorched ground, the smell of burning—her steps faltered.

‘What actually happened here?’ she thought.

After the flames were extinguished, the victim was pulled from the car and rushed into the ambulance. The body was covered in severe burns, skin charred, unrecognizable.

Even the secretary frowned.

“Find out who the victim is,” she ordered quietly. “And make sure no one knows about this. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As usual, she sent me a report by text. [Ma'am, something happened to Mr. Carter. He appears to have been involved in a serious accident. I will also let you know once the victim has been identified.]

There was no reply.

Assuming I was busy, she left the scene quickly. Tonight was too important for Carter Group. No one had time to linger.

When Sheldon finally arrived at the event, lights flashing and cameras waiting. Some people wondered why he came, once again, with Stacey and Diego.

The three people who used to attend every event together suddenly disappeared, replaced by four.

The public began to suspect that something they didn't know was going on, but they couldn't find any evidence.

An event staff hurried over. “Mr. Carter, we are glad you finally arrived.”

Sheldon nodded. Then he asked calmly, “Do you know where Reba is? I should meet her first.”

They looked at each other as if confused. After all, they thought I would come together with Sheldon and Lizzie.

But they came with Stacey and Diego instead.

One of them said hesitantly, “Mrs. Carter hasn’t arrived yet, Sir.”

He was shocked and immediately checked his phone.

The message he sent earlier that afternoon was there—delivered. He had even sent the location and thought everything was clear.

A flicker of irritation rose. ‘Is she upset because I didn’t come with her?’

Sheldon called the driver.

“Why isn’t Reba here yet?” he asked coldly. “Did something happen on the road?”

The driver sounded confused. “Sir, Mrs. Carter said she would drive herself to the event.”

“Alone?” Sheldon snapped. “How dare you let her drive alone!”

He was already on edge. Anything that strayed from his expectations only worsened his temper.

He hung up without letting the driver explain and dialed my number.

No answer.

He tried again. And again.

Ten times.

Each call ended the same way, the mechanical voice repeating without emotion, “The number you have dialed is currently unavailable. Please call later.”

“Where are you, Reba?”

Sheldon scrolled through his phone, his fingers stiff. None of my messages had been answered.

I hadn’t replied to him. I hadn’t told him about my day. For the past few days, our conversations had shrunk to almost nothing.

In the past, I had always checked in first.

[Did you eat?]

[Don’t overwork yourself.]

[Take a break if you feel dizzy.]

I steadied his moods, soothed his anxiety, and listened to his fears. Our weekly talks were never casual—they were quiet counseling sessions I gave freely, just to keep him whole.

But over the last two years, those conversations thinned. Then vanished.

Sheldon never noticed. He was too busy playing with a new toy to realize the old one was already breaking.

Only now did he see it clearly. He was the only one still sending messages. And even then, every text was the same.

[Busy. Can’t come home. Urgent meeting.]

Nothing about me. Nothing for me.

A sharp panic crawled up his spine.

He called again. No answer.

Again and again, until the same cold voice repeated, “The number you have dialed is currently unavailable.”

As time dragged on, questions rose among the guests. Sheldon, restless and irritated, had no choice but to accept the event team’s persuasion.

He knew the event could no longer be delayed. So, he steadied his mood and thought, thinking if maybe I forgot to charge my phone, that I would come in the end.

Yes, Sheldon knew how much I loved him. How much I adored and respected him.

“The opening should begin first. They will stall for time before the main segment, understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Stacey watched from the side and smiled faintly. ‘So, she had kept her promise.’

When she returned to her apartment earlier, a package was waiting at the door. She carried it into her room and opened it slowly.

Inside were Sheldon’s belongings. And Lizzie’s.

Neatly packed. Cleanly cut.

It was clear—I had given up the title of Mrs. Carter. I had abandoned everything connected to that identity, just as I said I would.

In a few days, once the court finalized it, the divorce would be official. All that would remain was choosing a wedding date between her and Sheldon.

Stacey closed the box and laughed softly.

“How I love being the winner of this game,” she murmured.

Just then, the event team called her name.

She lifted her chin, adjusted her smile, and walked onto the stage—radiant, confident, and triumphant—as the event began under brilliant lights.

Meanwhile, Sheldon kept checking his watch. It was already past midnight.

I still hadn’t arrived.

He began to sense the shift in the room—the searching glances, the whispered questions. The public was looking for me.

Tonight, only Lizzie and he were present, and the absence was too obvious to ignore.

Two years ago, after his father died in that private plane crash, every responsibility of Carter’s Group had fallen squarely on his shoulders. The weight had never truly eased.

If anything, it grew heavier.

The business world was ruthless, and he had been forced to harden himself to survive it.

The board of directors pushed him relentlessly—higher sales, fiercer strategies, results that surpassed even his late father’s legacy.

He knew what they whispered behind his back.

That Sheldon Carter wasn’t ready.

That the man who once trembled uncontrollably eight years ago had no right leading an empire.

Those memories still burned.

That was why Stacey’s arrival had felt perfect.

A distraction. A weapon. A solution.

Making Stacey the brand ambassador had driven sales up at an explosive rate. Numbers spoke louder than doubt. For the first time, he silenced those who questioned him.

He had proven himself. Or so he believed.

The success fed his pride, hardened his arrogance, and left no room for loss. He could not tolerate failure—could not endure anything slipping beyond his control.

So now, with one thing out of place, one person missing, his thoughts unraveled—slowly, dangerously—under the bright lights of the stage.

After all, Sheldon had prepared everything for my birthday celebration—to impress the public, to paint the picture of the happiest family, to prove he was a loyal and devoted husband.

When he was still feeling overwhelmed with his own thoughts, the event team approached him. “Mr. Carter, it’s time for your opening speech.”

“Let me know the moment Reba arrives,” he said, straightening his suit.

Then he stepped onto the stage.

Under the dazzling lights, Sheldon smiled calmly, confidently—like a man with nothing to hide.

“Good evening, everyone,” he began. “Thank you for being here tonight, not only for the launch of Carter Group’s newest product, but also for a very special celebration.”

He paused, eyes sweeping across the crowd.

“Two years ago, Carter Group went through its most difficult transition. I went through mine as well. Many people doubted whether I could stand where my father once stood. Some believed I would fail.”

A low murmur rippled through the room.

“But I didn’t,” he said firmly. “Because behind every decision I made, behind every night I pushed myself forward, there was someone who never stopped believing in me.”

He smiled softly.

“My wife.”

The screen behind him lit up, revealing the product name in elegant letters.

REBA.

“This product,” Sheldon continued, “is named after the woman who stood by me when I had nothing to offer but uncertainty. Reba Carter is not just my wife—she is my foundation.”

Applause erupted.

“Of course,” he added smoothly, “our brand ambassador, Stacey, has contributed tremendously to our success over the past two years. Her professionalism and dedication helped bring this product to life.”

Stacey smiled graciously from her seat.

“But success,” Sheldon said, his voice lowering, “is never built alone. No husband can thrive without his wife’s support.”

“Tonight’s launch is not just business. It is a birthday gift. An anniversary gift. A thank-you.”

He lifted his glass.

“To my wife, Reba Carter. Everything I am today exists because of you.”

Thunderous applause filled the hall.

After the speech, the MC announced the interview session.

The first reporter stood up immediately. “Mr. Carter, may I ask—why hasn’t Mrs. Carter arrived yet?”

The question struck closer than Sheldon liked. It echoed the unease already clawing at his chest.

He laughed lightly. “I told Reba to dress as beautifully as possible tonight. It is her special day.”

He shrugged playfully. “So let’s be patient. You know how long it takes a woman just to finish showering, right?”

Laughter rolled across the room, especially from the men.

“As they say,” Sheldon added with a confident smile, “the best surprises always come at the end. So please, enjoy the night.”

Applause followed him as he stepped down from the stage.

At that moment, his phone rang.

His secretary.

He frowned and answered. “What is it?”

Her voice came through, shaking. “Sir… you need to come to the hospital right now.”

His irritation flared. Why was nothing going his way tonight?

“Can’t you handle it yourself?” he snapped. “Don’t you know what day this is?”

There was a pause. Then her voice dropped, trembling.

“But, sir…the victim you hit with your car today” she said quietly. “The victim’s ID… it belongs to your wife!”