"What's wrong? You don't remember?" I stepped closer. "Or did you never see it at all?"

"I… I was drunk at the time…" she stammered.

"Drunk, yet you remember he forced you?" My head tilted. "Drunk, yet you're absolutely certain the child is his?"

Alex exploded. "Anna Matthews! Stop trying to change the subject! The evidence is right there, and you're still trying to twist words?"

"A few blurry photos constitute a conviction?" I let out a dry laugh. "By that logic, if I snap a picture of you standing next to a woman on the street, I can claim you raped her?"

"You—!"

"Furthermore." My voice cut through his sputtering. "How did you obtain hotel surveillance footage? High-end hotels don't exactly hand out security tapes to random strangers."

His mouth opened. Closed. Nothing came out.

Georgia rushed to fill the silence. "My roommate… she helped me find connections…"

"Oh?" I swung my gaze to the girl still clutching the phone. "Does your family own the hotel chain? Or are you personal friends with the CEO?"

The roommate stared at the floor, shuffling her feet. "My… my cousin works there…"

"What a coincidence." The words dripped with acid. "Your cousin just happens to work at the exact hotel where Dominic allegedly attacked Georgia. Just happens to have access to the security room. And just happens to be willing to commit a felony by leaking private footage to you?"

The tide in the livestream comments began to turn.

*"She has a point…"*

*"Yeah, you can't just get hotel security tapes. That's highly illegal."*

*"And if it was rape, why didn't she call the police immediately?"*

Georgia's hand flew to her stomach. She doubled over, crumpling to the floor. "Oww… my stomach hurts…"

"Georgia!" Her roommate screamed at the camera. "This is too much! This old witch is doing it on purpose! She's jealous that you're carrying her husband's baby!"

Alex's finger jabbed toward my face, trembling with rage. "Anna Matthews! If anything happens to my sister or that baby, you're dead!"

I watched their performance with cold detachment. "Do you need me to call an ambulance?"

Georgia curled tighter, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Ms. Matthews, why do you have to force me like this? I just want justice…"

"Justice?"

The word cracked something open inside me.

"Georgia, when you knelt in the mud and begged me for money, you used that exact word. You said you wanted an education. A fair shot at life."

I looked down at her—this girl I had believed in, fought for, sacrificed for.

"I gave you books. I gave you a chance to change your fate." My voice didn't waver. "And this is how you repay me?"

Her eyes darted away.

"You stop guilt-tripping her!" Alex roared. "So what if you sponsored her? Does giving money mean your husband gets to use her as a toy?"

I straightened, my patience finally, completely spent.

"Enough. I'll say this one last time." I held up a finger. "First, Dominic Sawyer would never force himself on anyone." A second finger. "Second, the child in your belly cannot possibly be his."

My gaze swept the room, landing on the blinking red light of the camera.

"Third, if you continue this charade, I'm calling the police. Defamation and extortion are serious crimes."

Silence.

The chat stream blurred past:

*"This teacher is tough as nails. Her logic is flawless."*

*"She sounds way too confident. Is there something we don't know?"*

*"Could this be a scam?"*

The crowd at the door parted. Department Director Lambert squeezed through, breathless and red-faced. "What is going on here?!"

Alex lunged toward him like a drowning man grabbing a lifeline. "Director Lambert! You're just in time! Anna Matthews' husband raped my sister! She's four months pregnant! Now they won't admit it, and she's slandering my sister, saying we're trying to scam them!"

"Director Lambert." My voice remained level. "They're lying. My husband could not have gotten Georgia pregnant."

Alex's face purpled. "You're finished, yet you're still digging in your heels! A teacher like you is a stain on this school's reputation!" He whirled on Lambert. "I demand you expel Anna Matthews immediately!"

Jacob Lambert shifted in his seat, gaze skittering anywhere but my face. "Ms. Matthews, why don't you go home and rest for a few days? Let things cool down."

I stared at him. "So you're buying into this garbage too?"

He leaned closer, voice dropping to a hiss. His eyes kept flicking to the livestream camera like it might bite him. "It's escalated too far—this is a PR nightmare! You have to consider the school's reputation!"

*The school's reputation.* So I should just roll over and accept baseless accusations to protect the institution's image.

"Jacob." Ice crept into my voice. "If you punish me today because you're bowing to pressure, tomorrow I will sue this institution for defamation. Think very carefully before you speak."

His complexion shifted from pale to a sickly shade of gray.

Georgia Donaldson scrambled up from the floor, wiping theatrical tears from her cheeks. She dug a crumpled piece of paper from her bag with trembling hands.

"Ms. Matthews, I knew you wouldn't admit it easily." Her voice pitched higher, playing to the camera. "That's why I went for an amniocentesis paternity test last week!"

She thrust the paper toward the lens.

"The results show a 99.99% DNA match between the baby in my belly and Mr. Sawyer!"

Silence crashed over the office like a wave.

The livestream comments froze for a heartbeat—then detonated.

*She got what she deserved! Let's see how this witch argues her way out of this one!*

*It's right there in black and white. You can't fake science!*

*She really won't cry until she sees the coffin. A teacher? Shameless!*

Jacob's expression crumbled, panic bleeding through the professional mask.

Alex Donaldson's smirk stretched wider, practically vibrating with triumph. "Ironclad evidence! You're done, Matthews! What else do you have to say? Hurry up and pay for the emotional damage! Five million—and I won't take a cent less!"

Georgia tugged at her brother's sleeve, voice quavering. "Bro, stop. Ms. Matthews has been kind to me..."

He shoved her hand away. "Kind? She used her power to force you into silence! Today, your brother is getting justice for you!"

The students crowding the doorway began to chant.

"Fire Ms. Matthews immediately! Police investigation now! Lock up the adulterous couple!"

The roar swelled, deafening. Something cold and wet struck my shoulder—leftover milk tea, splashing sticky sweetness into my hair and down my blouse.

I ignored it.

My eyes stayed fixed on the test report. A laugh bubbled up from somewhere deep in my chest.

"This report is a forgery." My voice cut through the noise like a blade. "Furthermore, a paternity test requires DNA samples from both parties. Where exactly did you acquire Dominic Sawyer's DNA?"

The color drained from Georgia's face.

"I... I got it from a cup he used..."

"Dominic has a dedicated water tumbler at his company." I kept my tone smooth, almost conversational. "It's washed and sterilized immediately after every use. You claim you retrieved DNA—what day was it? Which cup?"

Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

Nothing came out.

Alex shouldered forward. "Who cares how she got it! The report is real! If you don't believe it, we'll do another test right now!"

"Agreed." The word landed like a verdict. "We'll do it right now. I'll have Dominic come here and provide a sample on the spot."

Panic flickered through Georgia's eyes. "Isn't... isn't Mr. Sawyer unreachable?"

I smiled. "Who told you that?"

"I've been calling and texting him for days, but he never replies..." Her voice shrank to a whisper. "I went to his company, and his secretary said he was on a business trip..."

"He was on a business trip." I checked my watch. "But he should be back by now."

Alex's expression shifted, something predatory gleaming in his eyes. "Perfect! Let him confront my sister face-to-face! I want to see what that rapist has to say for himself!"

The livestream chat surged back to life.

*Waiting for the scumbag to show his face!*

*He won't come. He's definitely halfway to the border by now.*

*Is Anna Matthews just stalling for time?*

Jacob rushed to salvage the situation, hands raised in a placating gesture. "Ms. Matthews, if your husband can come, that would be best! Clearing this up face-to-face is good for everyone!"

I pulled out my phone and dialed.

"Anna?" Dominic's voice flowed through the receiver, deep and steady. "I just finished a full-body maintenance cycle and was about to contact you. Is something wrong?"

---

"Come to my office at the school." I kept my voice clipped, efficient. "Bring your full set of identification documents. And the product manual."

"Manual?" A beat of silence. "Has a malfunction occurred?"

My gaze slid to Georgia.

"Someone claims to be pregnant with your child. Aren't you coming to take a look?"

I never made a scene about Lucas Dickerson's infidelity.

On our wedding night, when I walked in on that unbearable scene, my heart didn't break—it was sawed apart by a dull blade, the pain radiating in dense, rhythmic waves.

Yet I remained silent. I still brought him warm water to soak his feet. The next morning, I prepared breakfast as I always did.

From that day on, I applied to work at the Dickerson Group. Guilt made him agree.

Over the next three years, the women around him rotated like a revolving door. They understood the rules of survival for a rich man's mistress and never crossed the line.

Until now.

Lucas had actually brought a woman home.

Evelyn Gilbert, his childhood sweetheart, jabbed a finger in my face, her tone dripping with arrogance. "Daniela Bates, I told you—even if Lucas marries you, the only one in his heart is me. I *will* replace you and become Mrs. Dickerson!"

Displeasure coiled in my gut.

You can cheat on me. But you cannot touch my money.

——

After a grueling day at the Dickerson Group, all I wanted was a hot shower and a good night's sleep. But the moment I pushed open the door to the master suite's bathroom, the unmistakable sounds of passion slammed into me like a physical blow.

In the bathtub, Lucas held Evelyn tightly, kissing her with an intensity that suggested the rest of the world had ceased to exist. His eyes were squeezed shut, completely lost in their private universe.

Evelyn, however, snapped her eyes open.

Her gaze was pure provocation. Her lips curled into a smug, victorious smile as she stared straight at me.

This was the first time Lucas had brought an outsider home. The game had changed.

"Lucas, Daniela is back!"

Evelyn feigned terror, shrinking deeper into his embrace, her voice trembling with a fabricated sob. "I'm scared. My chest hurts..."

"Daniela! Are you a ghost?"

Lucas whipped his head around, his voice sharp with impatience. "Why didn't you make a sound? Apologize to Evelyn immediately! You scared her!"

"I'm sorry."

I lowered my head obediently, slowly backing out of the bathroom. "I won't disturb you. Starting tonight, I'll sleep in the study."

I had a rule: I never touched anything that had been soiled.

After Lucas cheated the first time, I never let him near me again. Now that the master bedroom had been tainted by Evelyn, it was dead to me as well.

I showered in the guest room and retreated to the study to work.

Currently, the weight of the Dickerson Group rested entirely on my shoulders. Even after leaving the office, idleness was a luxury I couldn't afford.

The study door swung open without warning. Evelyn, wrapped only in a bath towel, sauntered in and perched herself directly on my desk.

Dark love bites marred her exposed thighs—evidence of Lucas's well-known *bad habits*.

"Daniela, I told you long ago. Even if Lucas married you, he loves *me*." She looked down at me with naked ambition. "We grew up together. When your family went bankrupt, the Dickersons only let you marry in out of pity. Now that I'm back, you should return the title of Mrs. Dickerson to its rightful owner!"

"Sure. No problem."

I smiled and nodded. "As long as Lucas makes the decision, I agree to everything."

"You think he can't bear to let you go?" Evelyn's voice sharpened, clearly dissatisfied with my lack of resistance. "I know everything—you've been married three years, and he hasn't touched you once!"

"That's not what I meant."

I maintained my gentle facade. "I mean that divorce isn't up to me. You have to ask him. If he agrees, I'll fully cooperate."

Heavy footsteps approached from the hallway.

"Daniela, I know I was wrong! Please, don't hit me anymore!"

Evelyn's hand flew up and viciously slapped her own face several times. Then she threw herself off the desk, collapsing onto the floor and bursting into loud, theatrical sobs.

I glanced at the wet mark her towel had left on my documents.

Bile rose in my throat. I felt nothing but disgust.