I grabbed my suitcase and walked out of the prison that had confined me for 18 years without looking back.

Behind me came Alicia's triumphant laughter and Simon's scornful snort. "You think I'd regret this? Hah! Let's see how long you can survive once you walk out of this house!"

Honestly? I'd probably survive long enough to outlive him.

I moved into an apartment in the city center that Simon's grandfather, the late Mr. Ernest Fuller, had secretly left me before he died. After sitting down, I exhaled heavily.

All these years, through all of Simon's various scandals, I readily cleaned up his messes for him for one reason—and it wasn't love. It was because of Grandpa Ernest.

When my parents died, it was Grandpa Ernest who pulled me out of the abyss I'd fallen into. He took me in, paid for my education, and gave me the ability to hold my head up high once more. He was basically family to me.

Before he passed, he held my hand and said that his greatest wish was to see the family's legacy live on and flourish. However, he also knew that Simon had been spoiled since childhood and couldn't be relied upon. If the Fuller family's empire were to be left to him, it would be squandered away in no time.

Grandpa Ernest made me a promise. As long as I raised a child of the Fuller family to adulthood and made sure the child could be trusted to run the family's business, I would receive 30% of Fuller Group's shares that had originally been set aside for Simon.

So, I put up with Simon's long string of affairs and Alicia's provocations, all for the sake of raising Mason and grooming him to run the company.

It had nothing to do with love.

And now, I'd completed my mission. Just three more days, and I would be receiving the reward I rightfully earned.

Knowing this, that night, I had the best sleep I'd had in 18 years.

…

Over at the Fuller residence, Simon woke up promptly at 7:00 am, his head pounding from the hangover. Eyes still closed, he called out as usual, "Where's my orange juice, Zoe? Why haven't you brought it up to me yet?"

All he got in response was silence. No one answered him.

Ordinarily, at this hour, I would've already prepared a full breakfast, pressed his suit, and waited on the side to see if he needed me to do anything.

So, why wasn't I responding now?

Frowning, Simon sat up in bed and roared angrily, "Zoe Johnson! Are you deaf?"

The door opened, but it was Alicia—not me—who came in, clad in a silk nightgown.

"Why are you calling for her, Simon? She's already been kicked out of the house."

Simon froze. He'd been so drunk yesterday that he only remembered bits and pieces of what had happened. He knew he'd gotten into an argument with me about something, but he couldn't recall what it'd been about.

He simply assumed I was throwing a tantrum. Rubbing his forehead, he snapped impatiently, "Where's my drink? My head is killing me."

"Oh, right. I'll get you something."

Alicia scrambled down the stairs and took ages before finally coming back up with a mug of water. Simon took one sip before slamming the mug down on the bedside table.

"This is plain water! I wanted orange juice! Don't you know that I always have orange juice for my hangovers after I've been drinking?" Simon snapped.

Alicia's eyes reddened. Feeling indignant, she protested, "I-I had no idea! It was always Zoe who took care of such things…"

"Oh, stop. Don't start crying on me. It's annoying. Zoe can start handling these things again once she comes back in a few days."

Irritated, Simon got up to get changed, but when he opened the closet, he was stupefied.

Prior to this, Simon's suits and ties had been arranged by color and occasion. All he had to do was reach out and grab what he needed from the neatly hung rows.

But now, the closet was a mess, and the bespoke navy suit he was supposed to wear today was nowhere to be found.

"Where's my suit?" he asked.

Alicia came running over, stammering, "It looked a little dirty to me… so… I put it in the washing machine for a quick wash…"

Simon rushed to the laundry room. Once he opened the washing machine and yanked out the shrunken suit that had cost six figures to make, the veins along his forehead bulged.

"Alicia! This suit was made from a wool-silk blend! It can only be dry-cleaned! If you don't know how to clean it, then just send it to the dry cleaners and let the professionals deal with it. Why did you insist on acting like you know what you're doing?"

At the breakfast table, the atmosphere was unbearably tense. The eggs Alicia had made were burnt, and the coffee was stale and bitter.

Mason sat at the table, poking the blackened egg with his fork. "What is this? Is it even edible?"

The foul expression on his face made Alicia turn pale. "Mason, it's my first time cooking, and I—"

"Save it. I don't want to hear it. You can't even make a proper breakfast. What are you even good at, besides giving birth to me?" Mason snapped.

Used to living an idle, luxurious lifestyle and having Simon cater to her every whim, Alicia had become pretty spoiled and entitled. She couldn't stand being spoken to like that, of course.

Shaking with anger, she wagged her finger at Mason and shrieked, "Mason Fuller! I'm your mother! How can you talk to me like that? What happened to all the etiquette you learned, huh? Have you forgotten all your manners? Or is this how Zoe taught you to behave?"

"I'm going. I'm not eating." Mason rolled his eyes and grabbed his phone from the table before jumping to his feet. "Just the sight of you two ruins my appetite."

After looking at the mess on the table and hearing Alicia's sobs, Simon felt a painful twist in his stomach.

He started missing me. I never made a fuss and could always be counted on to take care of everything. All along, I'd done a good job ensuring that all his needs were taken care of.

In the past, he thought that with enough money, anyone could do what I did.

Only now did he realize just how tough things were without me around.

"Stop crying!" Simon barked at Alicia. He grabbed his keys and marched out the door, almost as if he were fleeing. "You're just getting on my nerves now."

At the company, Simon discovered he couldn't find an important contract.

In the past, I'd always organized the documents he had lying around in his study and passed them to his secretary for filing.

His secretary said nervously, "Mr. Fuller, Mrs. Fuller—I mean, the former Mrs. Fuller didn't give me the contract or anything related to this business deal."

Simon was so furious that he threw his pen.

That evening, there was an important business dinner, and the family was invited as well. It was a prime opportunity for him to show that all was well with the Fuller family, which would help stabilize Fuller Group's share prices.

Without a second thought, Simon called me.

I answered the call after two rings, saying in a calm tone, "Hello?"

"Are you done throwing your tantrum yet, Zoe? If you are, get back home at once. Everything's a mess right now," Simon instructed in a commanding voice. "Alicia doesn't know what to do, so you need to teach her. Also, there's a business dinner this evening. Get dressed. I'll come by to pick you up."

He seemed completely certain that I was probably hiding in some corner waiting for him to take pity on me.

Snorting, I replied, "Have you forgotten something, Mr. Fuller?"

"Forgotten what?" Simon asked impatiently.

"We're divorced now. You signed the divorce papers yourself."