Eight years ago, we were sailing on a yacht when a sudden storm hit.

The rescue team could only save two people. My husband's first love chose to save me, but she fell into the sea and vanished.

My husband spared no expense searching for her. Eventually, he bankrupted our family. We ended up homeless, sleeping on the streets.

Burdened by guilt, I joined a secret scientific research organization, determined to earn money to repay them. For eight long years, I worked tirelessly in silence.

When the project finally ended, I returned—only to find him embracing his first love at a lavish party in the mansion I had bought.

"You brought another woman into a house bought with my money? She’s alive—so why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me be separated from you and the children for eight whole years?"

My husband looked annoyed. Even my biological children now call someone else "Mom."

"Who knows where your money came from? You vanished without a word. We all thought you'd run off with another man. And because of you, I nearly lost the love of my life. What are you doing here now? You still owe Natasha!"

I stood frozen. So I was the only one living in guilt for all those years.

Fine. I’ll give him what he wants. A divorce. And I’ll reclaim everything that’s mine.

…

“Divorce,” I whispered, clutching my son’s hand as I turned to leave.

“Divorce?” Garry Allen’s voice turned cold. “If you divorce me, you’ll never see Seth again.”

My son pulled away from me.

“Where did you come from, bad woman! I don’t want to leave my parents!”

His cold, distant eyes pierced me like blades.

To earn money for my family, I had joined a classified research program. I couldn’t leave the facility—couldn’t even communicate freely. For eight years, I was absent.

Today, my mission was finally complete. I went home.

But when I opened the door, I saw Garry laughing, arms wrapped around a familiar woman at a party.

It was Natasha Denton.

She was the one who’d given me the last life vest before falling into the sea. We all thought she had died.

In the past eight years, Garry and I had maintained occasional contact, yet he never mentioned that Natasha survived.

“Garry, who is this woman?” Someone at the party asked in confusion.

Garry sneered. “Just a woman trying to seduce me.”

Natasha looked wronged. “If you need money, we can help you. Why wreck our family?”

Seth clung to her, glaring at me. “Bad woman! Don’t hurt my mom!”

"How dare you show up in someone else’s house like this?"

"Exactly. Garry and Natasha have been together for years. Who are you even?"

Someone hurled a wine glass at me. Another dragged me outside and threw me out.

Glass cut my forehead. Blood mixed with wine dripped down my face.

I am his wife! This is my house—bought with money I earned through sacrifice!

I clung to the doorframe, but no one believed me.

I broke free and ran upstairs. I remembered a wedding photo on the bedroom table.

Garry once sent it to me. “Wife, I miss you so much. My son and I will wait for you. Don’t worry—just focus on your work.”

I rushed down with the photo held high.

Everyone stared. For a moment, their faces froze. But then they burst into laughter.

“Still dreaming? That photos of the three of them.”

What?!

I looked closely.

The woman in the photo... was Natasha.

I staggered back, refusing to believe it. I searched the house for the photos and voice messages Garry once sent me.

“Wife, your favorite vase is still here. Your clothes are untouched…”

I followed those memories, but there was nothing.

Garry suddenly appeared, yanking me back downstairs.

Everyone watched as I descended, empty-handed. Their mocking smiles stabbed my soul.

“We come here often. Natasha is the lady of the house. We’d know if you were someone important.”

Natasha gave me a pitiful look and pulled out a thick wad of cash. “If you’re in trouble, Garry and I can help a little.”

I let out a bitter laugh and slapped the money from her hand.

Natasha stepped back, clutching her hand dramatically. “Hubby, I just wanted to help her…”

Garry glanced at her red hand, then stared at me in disgust.

He picked up the money she dropped and slammed it against my head. The impact made me dizzy.

“I’ve never met anyone as ungrateful as you!”

He turned to the bodyguards. “Throw her out!”

They dragged me outside. I couldn’t go in or leave.

Through the window, I saw Garry and Natasha dancing, bodies close, laughing until late into the night.

My heart went numb.

I took out my phone, hands trembling, and sent a message to my research mentor.

[Teacher, I’m willing to return to the institute. I’ll stay and never come out again.]

[Really? I’ll come pick you up in three days.]

The laughter faded, and Garry walked toward me.

There was a flicker of guilt on his face as he pulled me into his arms—just like he used to.

“Jane Ford,” he murmured, “Natasha gave you a chance to live, and she almost died for it. When I found her, she’d lost her memory and only remembered me. The doctor warned me not to trigger her trauma… I had no choice but to go along.”

Garry fetched the first aid kit and gently applied medicine to my wound.

“If you want, we can still be a family. You can stay—as Natasha’s sister. As long as we both know you’re my wife and Seth’s mother, that’s enough.”

“So, you want me to stay here… as your hidden mistress?”

Garry’s face darkened. He was about to say something when a loud crash startled us.

We turned to see Natasha clutching her mouth in shock, staring at Garry holding me. Then she turned and ran out, crying.

Garry’s expression shifted to panic as he rushed after her.

Watching his retreating back, I suddenly remembered—he was always like this.

Even after he and Natasha broke up, they stayed “close friends.” When she called him crying from a bar in the middle of the night, he’d drop everything to go to her.

I bit down my pain and wiped the blood off my forehead.

“Mom!”

Seth came running, throwing himself into my arms. I caught him tightly.

“Mom… I know you’re my mom. But if I don’t call that woman ‘Mom,’ she beats me.”

He looked up, eyes filled with pain, and rolled up his sleeves to show me his arms—crisscrossed with bruises.

My heart clenched painfully.

“Mom, if you don’t listen to them, they’ll keep hitting me!”

Fury surged through me as I took the medicine and began treating his wounds. Just then, Garry returned, carrying Natasha.

Her eyes were red from crying, and her knees were scraped.

“Jane! I told you Natasha can’t be provoked. You need to apologize to her!”

I laughed bitterly. Who, exactly, was provoking whom?

He gently placed her on the couch and then turned to me, pointing furiously.

“Don’t forget—she saved your life! You don’t want to apologize? Fine. Natasha’s been eyeing a designer bag lately. Buy it for her—it’s just one million.”

I froze. Was this a joke?

Natasha sparkled from head to toe in jewels and luxury. Meanwhile, I hadn’t bought myself a single new outfit in years. Every cent I earned went to the family.

Garry never once asked if I was struggling or in pain.

When I joined the secret research institute, I became an experimental subject.

I took drug after drug, enduring endless side effects. My stomach was scorched, and my body was full of needle marks.

I endured the agony silently, hoping to earn enough to make life better for them.

Later, my dedication impressed the lead scientist, and he made me his assistant.

I advanced quickly, and he even offered to make me a permanent researcher.

But I declined—because I still had a family I longed to return to.

And yet, they treated me like nothing more than an ATM.

I turned away, ignoring Garry, focusing on treating my son.

Suddenly, Natasha whimpered sweetly, “Hubby… my leg hurts so much~ Shouldn’t we go to the hospital?”

Without hesitation, Garry ordered the bodyguards to hold me down. He rummaged through the bag I’d brought.

“She got hurt because of you—use your little stash of money to make up for it.”

He pulled out my bank card, grinning. “What’s the password?”

I struggled, teeth clenched, refusing to answer.

“No problem. I’ll make you talk.”

With a nod, he dragged Seth into a room.

Through the closed door, I heard a stick strike, followed by my child’s cries.

Each scream tore through me like a blade.

“Stop! Stop hitting him!” I sobbed. “Garry, that’s your son! How can you be so cruel? I’ll tell you the password—just stop!”

It was our son’s birthday.

Garry froze for a second. Clearly, he didn’t remember.

Of course—he could recall the date he first held Natasha’s hand, but not his own child’s birthday.

“Don’t get involved anymore,” he said coldly. “Just stay home and behave.”

He left. I rushed into the room and found Seth.

I reached out, wanting to take him away—again.

But he recoiled.

Seth turned and ran, ignoring my desperate calls.

I looked at my hand. Something sticky clung to my fingertips.

I touched his arm earlier—what was it?

Looking closer, I frowned.

Was this… paint?

I wanted to ask Seth the truth, but Garry ordered me to babysit instead.

I had no choice but to endure it again. When the teacher arrived, I would definitely take my son and leave.

I went to the kitchen to cook and was startled to see a frail little boy rummaging through the trash.

His hair was unkempt, and his clothes hung in tatters.

I quickly slapped his hand away.

"The trash is filthy—you can’t eat from there! Whose child are you? Why are you here?"

The boy looked at me, frozen, silent, and unmoving.

Surprised, I took a piece of candy from my pocket, one I had intended for Seth.

"If you’re hungry, eat this first. I’ll give you more once I finish cooking."

Still no reaction. It was as if he couldn’t speak.

Just as I was about to ask again, a nanny stormed over and twisted his ear.

"You useless brat! Who told you to wander around?" She scolded him, then kicked him hard.

The boy fell to the ground but didn’t make a sound.

The nanny quickly dragged him away.

As I stood there, confused, someone yanked me back roughly. I stumbled and looked up to see Garry glaring at me with contempt.

"Jane, he’s the nanny’s sickly, low-born child. What are you doing talking to him? Where’s the food? You don’t want to see your son, is that it?"

I quickly brought the food to the table. Natasha and Seth were already seated.

Garry sat beside Natasha and lovingly spoon-fed her.

Suddenly, Natasha’s expression twisted, and she flung a plate at me.

The scalding soup spilled across my chest, making me cry out in pain.

"Don’t you know I can’t eat fish?!" she screamed.

"Honey, look—my skin’s turning red! Am I going to die?"

Natasha displayed her reddened neck and cried to Garry, playing the victim.

I stood there, stunned. She wrote today’s menu herself...

"She didn’t even touch the fish—how could she be allergic?" I said quietly.

"Jane!" Garry shouted. "I thought you’d be more understanding! Do you know that allergies can be fatal? You’re being petty and careless!"

Natasha sobbed louder, making Garry even more agitated.

He picked up the fish from the floor and shoved it into my mouth.

"You’re saying it’s fine? Aren’t you allergic to fish, too? Try it, then!"

He kept forcing the fish in, and the bones jabbed into my gums and tongue, making me wince.

I tried to spit it out, but he jammed more in with his hands.

Soon, itchy welts bloomed all over my skin, and my face began to swell.

Tears streamed down as I gasped for breath, my throat tightening, my vision blurring.

Looking at Garry’s furious face, I couldn’t help but recall our past.

I’d always had multiple allergies. Back then, he was so attentive to what I ate.

Now, all that care was reserved for someone else.

I couldn’t breathe. Everything went black.

When I arrived, I saw Garry sitting by my hospital bed, looking anxious.

"You should’ve said something instead of being so stubborn. Do you know how close you were to dying? The doctor said one more minute and it would’ve been too late!"

I turned my face away. I didn’t want to see his performance.

He paused, silent for a moment, knowing deep down he’d gone too far.

He reached out and pulled me into his arms.

"Jane, I didn’t mean to… I lost control."

Just then, the door burst open, and Natasha’s chirpy voice rang out.

"Honey! You’re the best! You found me the top doctor! The treatment worked—look, the redness is almost gone!"

Garry immediately let go of me and rushed over to her. She hung on his neck with glee.

"Good thing there are no scars. Be more careful next time—stay away from allergens, okay?"

He gave her a serious look, then kissed her cheek gently.

They flirted in front of me like I didn’t exist. Disgust churned in my gut.

"Honey, you haven’t taken me to buy that bag yet. Let’s go now!"

Garry hesitated, glancing my way, but let her drag him out.

As she left, Natasha shot me a triumphant look.

I left the hospital in the evening once I’d recovered a little.

Rain poured heavily outside.

When I got home, I realized I couldn’t open the door.

I knocked and shouted, but no one answered.

The cold rain soaked through my clothes, making me shiver uncontrollably.

"Madam says you’re being punished. Stand in the rain and reflect."

The nanny opened the door just wide enough to speak but didn’t let me in.

She stared at me, then slammed it shut.

Forced to remain outside, rain blurring my eyes, I caught sight of someone nearby.

It was the same boy from the kitchen, crouched in a corner, dazed.

I walked over to him slowly.

He sat motionless, rain dripping from his messy hair.

I gently pushed his hair aside—and froze.

There, on the side of his neck, was a familiar crescent-shaped birthmark.

My breath caught in my throat.

My son had the exact same mark.