I sobbed until the world went gray at the edges.

The realization that I’d been cherishing my enemy's child while my own daughter was being tortured sent a wave of suffocating pain through my chest.

Looking at the other report, which confirmed the little girl was my biological daughter, I wanted to go back in time and kill my own foolish, naive self.

I had just graduated when Chloe showed up at my door, heavily pregnant and sobbing, begging for my help.

"Ava, what am I going to do? Please, you have to help me..."

"The bastard used me because his family is rich, and now he's just disappeared..."

"I'm eight months along. The doctor said an abortion now means I'll never have kids..."

Seeing her so shattered, I was incandescent with rage for her. Not only did I cover all her delivery expenses, but I also stayed by her side to care for her afterward, even as I was grieving my own father's recent death.

All because I was terrified she would get postpartum depression.

My one moment of weakness had brought ruin upon my family.

It had given those two monsters the perfect opportunity.

It had cost me four years with my daughter.

I forced myself to my feet, gritting my teeth as I tore the reports to shreds.

Now was not the time to show my hand.

When I returned home, my eyes were still red and swollen.

Julian, who should have been at the office, was still there. He glanced up as I entered, his tone deceptively casual.

"What took you so long? Where's Daisy? Did something happen?"

I stalked into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. Then I went to the sofa, grabbed a bag of overpriced organic potato chips, and began eating them slowly, my voice muffled by the crunching.

"I was going to check out the galleries in SoHo, but it was too crowded, so I came back. Daisy's fine. Her teacher said kids this age are boisterous; a few bumps and scrapes are normal."

He paused.

"That's good. I was worried you'd run into trouble."

"By the way, things have been a bit hectic at the company. Could you sign that stock-proxy agreement soon? It'll stop those old geezers from constantly disrespecting me."

I was the one who had brought up the agreement last week.

He had been complaining that the board members still treated him like an outsider. I thought it was because he didn't hold enough shares, so I offered to entrust some of mine to him.

Looking back, he'd used lines like this for years to systematically wrest control of the company from me.

When I first pushed for him to join the core management, my father's old confidant, Marco, had warned me.

"Ava, this is everything your father left for you. If the man is truly capable, he should build his own career."

"I cannot agree to him joining the board."

At the time, I had waved off his concerns. "It's fine, Marco. I trust Julian. He's only doing this for the good of the company."

"Besides, he's my husband. He wouldn't hurt me, would he?"

In the end, Marco's staunch opposition meant it took Julian another two years to secure his current position.

The memory made me freeze. I gave him a noncommittal answer.

After he left, I went straight to the bedroom. Worried he might have planted a bug, I slipped into the walk-in closet and sent a message to Marco, whom I hadn't spoken to in ages.

It wasn't long before he replied.

"Miss, Julian has been doing great work these last two years. I've seen it with my own eyes. Just the other day, he was showing off a Patek Philippe you gave him."

"Are you... feeling alright, Ava? You seem on edge."

Hearing this, a leaden weight settled in my stomach.

I had asked Marco to buy that watch for me. It was meant to be a wedding anniversary gift for Julian, but around that time, he’d been dropping hints left and right about wanting a new Aston Martin.

So, I’d gotten him the car instead. The Patek Philippe Marco mentioned was still locked away in my bedroom safe.

Marco had betrayed me.

His question hung on the screen. I suppressed the fear coiling in my gut and typed back with feigned calm.

"That's good to hear. Julian was saying work has been a bit rough lately, and I was worried. If there's anything he needs help with, Marco, please give him a hand."

After sending the message, I couldn't sit still.

The truth was laid bare before me. I had to do something.

I went to the study, searching for any clue. In my haste, I jostled a drawer, and it slid open.

A child's smartphone, hidden in the back, came into view.

It was Daisy's.

I was so afraid of her getting addicted to screens that I'd set a password on it after teaching her how to use it.

There was a private social media account on the phone.

On it, she had written in her childish scrawl:

Auntie Chloe cried. Dad said she is my other mommy, but I have a mommy.

Does Mommy not want me?

...

Auntie Chloe came today. She brought me the new LEGOs and taught me how to draw. She is so nice.

I have two mommies. Is two mommies a happy thing?

...

Dad took me to see Auntie Chloe again. She smells so good. Dad said Auntie Chloe had a hard time having me, and he feels sorry for Mommy.

...

Mommy said no ice cream today. I hate her. Bad mommy.

Chloe is my real mommy.

The posts documented her journey from confusion to acceptance of Chloe.

A dull, numb ache lodged itself deep in my chest.

Thinking of how she had so sweetly called me "Mommy" just this morning, the whole situation felt like a grotesque joke.

My entire life was a colossal joke.

My husband and my best friend were together, the daughter I'd raised for four years wasn't mine, and the empire my father had built was about to be stolen from under me.

I was the only one who had been kept in the dark.

The phone buzzed, startling me. I put everything back where I'd found it, a deep unease settling over me.

Sure enough, it was a message from Julian.

"Darling, are you home?"

"I have a meeting in the Hamptons next week. You've been wanting to stay at the beach house, right? How about I take you there to relax?"