“Oh my! She— she slapped me!”

She shrieked, stumbling back like I had snapped her in half, clutching her face, wailing like some porcelain doll someone had dropped. Her act was flawless, practiced to the bone.

Gasps spread through the crowd. Whispers cut like knives.

“Did you see that?”

“Poor Jenniva.”

“Odette’s lost it.”

“Isn’t that Mr. Gillian’s wife? Why is she hitting Miss Jenniva?”

I could feel every eye on me, burning into my skin, but I didn’t care anymore.

“You think I don’t see you?” I shouted, voice hoarse, trembling with years of swallowed pain. “You snuck into my life, whispered poison into Gillian’s ears, made him turn his back on me. You ruined my family and now… you tried to hurt Zenith!” My throat burned as the words tore out. “You think your tears hide your venom, but I know exactly who you are. A scheming, manipulative snake!”

Jenniva shook her head, sobbing harder, like some wronged saint. The crowd softened to her, but I knew better.

Then Gillian’s voice thundered behind me. “Odette!”

I turned just in time to see his hand rise. The slap hit me fast, brutal, knocking me down.

He loomed over me. “After hurting my daughter, you dare lay your filthy hands on my first love? If it weren’t for that cursed arranged marriage, Jenniva would have been my wife!”

The crowd gasped again, whispers twisting the knife deeper.

“She’s unstable.”

“No wonder Mr. Gillian never loved her.”

“I heard Zenith isn’t even his. She cheated.”

Jenniva’s soft sobs made her look fragile, innocent, precious. And I was the monster. Always the monster.

Tears blurred my vision, but I forced the words out. “Then divorce me! I’m done with this farce. I don’t want to be your wife anymore!”

Gillian laughed, cold and sharp. “What a desperate psycho you are. First, you fake a kidnapping just to get my attention. And now you throw another pathetic scene? You should win an award for acting, Odette.”

He pulled papers from his jacket and tossed them at me like trash. They scattered at my feet. “Here. Isn’t this what you want?”

I bent down, hands trembling, to pick them up. But before I could, he leaned down too, snatching them back with a cruel smirk.

“Did you really think I’d make it that easy?” His voice dripped venom. “You’ll serve me for another week before I sign this. Until then, you’re mine.”

He waved the papers like a leash I couldn’t escape, then turned, wrapping his arm around Jenniva’s shoulders, leading her away like she was his treasure and I was just dirt beneath his shoes.

The crowd’s eyes stayed on me, disgusted, condemning. My hands shook as I forced myself to stand, legs weak, heart crushed under their judgment.

...

I walked down the hall, dragging my body, until I reached Zenith’s room. I closed the door, pressed my forehead to the wood, shaking and crying so hard my chest ached.

Through my sobs, I whispered a promise that tasted like blood. “Well then, Gillian… by a week, I’m no longer tied to you.”

After three days in the hospital, I finally brought Zenith home. She was still pale, still weak, but at least she was alive. If it were up to me, I’d never set foot in that house again. But I had no choice. I needed my mother’s heirloom, some of Zenith’s things, and a few of my own.

I pushed the door open, and my breath caught. Jenniva. She was standing in the middle of the living room like she owned the place, Gibeah sprawled on the couch, laughing like he had every right to be there.

Zenith’s tiny voice trembled next to me. “Mama… why is Gibeah here?”

Before I could answer, Gibeah looked up, smug, a little grin spreading across her face. “Because this is my house now. I’m the real daughter. You’re just… nothing.”

Zenith flinched, her hand clutching mine. Heat rose in my chest, and I wanted to rip that arrogance right out of her. But Jenniva’s lips curled, voice smooth as poison. “Gibeah, go to your room.”

She grinned, satisfied, and marched up the stairs like a little princess.

The maids passed by, eyes flicking away from me. Whispers cut through the air like knives. “Mr. Gillian ordered everything moved… Madam Odette’s things are in the maid’s quarters now.”

I swallowed hard, forcing the tears back. Jenniva pressed a hand to her chest, pretending embarrassment. “Oh, Odette… Gillian said I should stay here with Gibeah. He’s tired of hiding our relationship. I didn’t know they’d move your things. Please don’t misunderstand me.”

Her voice was honey, but her eyes were laughing.

I bit down on my rage for Zenith’s sake. I took her hand and walked to the maid’s quarters.

Inside the tiny room, Zenith finally broke, tears soaking my sleeve.

“Mama, why is Papa treating us like we don’t exist?”

I held her tight, rocking her against my chest. “Don’t cry, baby. One day soon, we’ll leave this place. And you’ll never have to bow your head to anyone again.”

...

That night, the villa was alive with lights and music spilling from the dining hall. A dinner for Gillian’s business partners. I was forced to sit far down the table, like a guest who wasn’t welcome in her own home.

Jenniva sat at Gillian’s side, her hand brushing his arm like she already owned him. She smiled sweetly, gently, and the men at the table stared, admiring her like she was some kind of goddess.

One of them glanced at me. “And… who is she?”

Gillian smirked, swirling his glass like he owned the air in the room. “She’s just here for appearances. My real woman has always been Jenniva. And this girl, Gibeah, she’s my true heir.”

Gibeah stood, chest puffed, walking to the piano like she owned the house. Her fingers flew over the keys, sharp and precise, filling the room with perfect notes. Everyone clapped, admiration dripping from their eyes.

Beside me, Zenith’s little face twisted in tears, staring down at her ruined hands. Her tiny fingers trembled like they remembered the pain over and over. I felt sick, my chest aching. How had it come to this? How had Gillian let this happen?

Jenniva tilted her head, voice smooth as honey but dripping venom. “Poor little Zenith. Can’t play the piano now? What a shame. Your mama let this happen—”

I slammed my fork to the plate, heart hammering. “Don’t you dare poison her mind! It was you! You hired those thugs to crush her fingers just so your daughter could steal the spotlight!”

Gasps rippled around the table. Jenniva’s lips trembled, tears falling, as she clutched at Gillian. “Odette… why are you attacking me in front of everyone? What did I ever do to you?” Her voice was fragile, broken, but I knew it was all an act.

Gillian’s chair screeched as he rose, eyes blazing.

“How dare you shame Jenniva in front of my partners!” His roar made the chandelier shake. Before I could even think, his hand tangled in my hair and yanked me hard. Pain flared across my scalp as he dragged me down to my knees on the cold marble.

Zenith cried out, tiny voice sharp and desperate. “Papa! Don’t hurt Mama!”

Gillian snapped his head toward her, voice low and cruel. “Shut up, girl. If you don’t stop crying, I’ll feed you to the snakes.”

I froze. Zenith’s face went pale, her little body shaking against me. She had always been terrified of snakes. Gibeah—Jenniva’s daughter—had shoved a python in her schoolbag once. I remembered the blood, the screams, and how Gillian had just shrugged. Never protected her. Never.

Now Zenith pressed herself to me, trembling so hard it broke something inside me.

Around us, the business partners shifted, uncomfortable at first, then one chuckled. Another joined in, and soon the whole table was laughing, tossing cruel words like knives.

“The jealous wife doesn’t know her place.”

“Gillian, train her better.”

Jenniva stayed close to him, hand on his sleeve, her voice soft and trembling like a fragile flower. “Please… don’t hurt her too much. It’s my fault. She’s just jealous.” Her fake mercy only poured fuel on his rage.

His hand cracked across my cheek again, fire burning through me, ears ringing. “Apologize to Jenniva. Now!”

I shook my head, lips quivering. “I… I didn’t—”

“Do it, Odette!” he thundered. “Or Zenith loses everything. No more doctors. No school. No food. Let her rot with you in the streets.”

I froze, looking at Zenith shaking beside me. Her little hands clutching at mine. My heart ached. For her… only for her… I lowered myself fully to the floor. Tears slid down my cheeks as I whispered, voice barely there, “I’m sorry, Jenniva.”

The men laughed, clinking glasses. “At least she knows her place,” one smirked.

Jenniva wiped her fake tears and walked over, smiling like I was a stray dog. Patting my head, sweet and cruel. “It’s okay. Odette’s just jealous. I forgive her.”

The men praised her like she was some saint, their words slicing into me. Is this my life now? Always humiliated, always broken? I wondered, hating myself for bending.

Zenith’s small voice cut through the noise, trembling but fierce. “Don’t talk to my mama like that! She’s not jealous!”

Gillian’s face darkened, black with fury. He snapped his fingers. “Take that girl out of here before she embarrasses me further.”

The maids hesitated, then carefully took Zenith from my arms. She screamed, claws digging into me, but they pulled her away while I stayed on the floor, shaking, my heart feeling like it was tearing in half.

Gillian raised his glass, smug. “This is why women need discipline.”

The men laughed. One leaned back, sneering. “Lock her in the basement until she learns some manners.”

Gillian smirked. “Maybe I should.”

I stayed silent, trembling, swallowing down every scream. If I said anything, it would only make it worse.

When the guests finally left, the villa grew quiet. My cheek still burned, my hair still tangled from his grip. I walked down the hallway and there she was, snake whore Jenniva cornering me, her perfume choking the air.

She leaned in, whisper sharp as a knife. “Did you see how they all laughed at you? Even Gillian doesn’t see you as a wife anymore. Soon, you’ll be nothing but a maid. Or maybe he’ll throw you and your daughter out into the streets.”

Her eyes glittered, a cruel smile on her face. “Gibeah will replace Zenith in everything. Music. Legacy. Even love.”

I couldn’t speak. My throat burned, my heart felt shredded.

...

That night, back in the tiny maid’s quarters, I lay beside Zenith. Her breathing was uneven, little fists still clenched even in sleep.

I pressed my hand over my mouth and cried quietly, choking on every sob. But somewhere deep inside, something stirred. A tiny spark of fire. Gillian would never protect us. Jenniva would never stop until Zenith was broken.

In the dark, I whispered to myself, voice shaking but determined. “One day… I’ll make them pay for everything.”

Then my phone lit up on the table. The name flashed across the screen. Aamon Rutherford.

“Hello?”

His voice was low, cold, steady like steel. “Seven days are almost up, Odette. Get ready. I’m coming to Europe to collect what’s mine.”

Before I could even catch a breath, the line went dead. I sat there, trembling, Aamon’s voice still echoing in my head like a storm. My chest ached, but for the first time in forever, I felt something like relief. Dangerous as he was, Aamon had saved Zenith when no one else moved. I wiped my tears and whispered into the quiet, “Whatever you are… you’re the only one who actually came for us.”

For the first time, the smile on my face wasn’t cracked. It was sharp, cold, dangerous.

...

The villa was dead quiet. Everyone was asleep. I crept up the stairs, each step heavy, my heart pounding so loud I thought it would wake them. When I reached the master bedroom, I froze. The door was slightly open, and through the slit I saw them.

Jenniva on top of Gillian, laughing. Their bodies tangled, their faces glowing with something that made my stomach twist in knives. Any love I had left for him died right then, watching him touch her like I didn’t exist.

Jenniva’s voice cut through the room. “When are you going to divorce her, Gillian? I’m tired of being the mistress.”

His laugh was cruel. “I’ve already signed the papers. But I won’t give them to her yet. I want her to serve you first. I want her to pay for humiliating you.”

Jenniva giggled, venom dripping from every note. “You mean… as my maid? I’d love that. But what if she finds the papers?”

Gillian groaned, pulling her down. “She won’t. Forget her. Now shut up and please me.”

I couldn’t watch another second. I turned away, bile rising, tears burning. My body shook with rage and disgust.

Hours passed. Finally, the villa went quiet, the sound of their snores filling the halls. I slipped inside, careful not to wake them. First, I checked the bedside drawer. Empty. My heart slammed against my ribs. I knew Gillian better than anyone—he’d hide them in his study.

I crept through the villa, silent as a ghost. In the study, the vault loomed. My fingers hovered, then typed the code I still remembered. Click. The lock opened, and my breath caught.

Inside were stacks of files and jewels. And there, folded neatly, the papers. My divorce papers. My hands shook as I pulled them out. My eyes blurred with tears. Every stroke of my signature trembled. “No more chains,” I whispered. Tears fell, smearing the ink.

I grabbed my phone and dialed. The ring seemed endless until it clicked.

“The papers are signed…”

Aamon’s voice was calm, deadly, ice in my veins. “Good. I’ll send my lawyer. Don’t let anyone know, Odette.”

The line went dead again, but his voice lingered in my head, a blade pressed to my throat.

Within the hour, I slipped out of the villa into the rain. Streets slick, empty, the night hiding me like a cloak. My breath puffed white in the cold. Every shadow felt alive. Every sound made my heart leap.

I found him where he said. His lawyer waited in a dark car outside a café, tall and composed, bowing slightly like I was someone worth respect.

I handed over the papers, hands shaking so badly I thought I’d drop them. My chest hammered, my soul on fire.

He took them carefully. “From now on, Odette, no one can chain you again.”

My eyes filled with tears, but this time they weren’t sorrow. They tasted like freedom.

Two days stuck in Gillian Washington’s villa felt like I was slowly being buried alive. The place was huge, bright, perfect for anyone else but for me, it was a cage. Gillian didn’t see me. Gibeah and Jenniva wandered around like little devils, whispering, laughing, making sure I couldn’t breathe.

At night, Zenith would wake crying, tiny sobs breaking out of her. Her bandaged hands trembled in mine, and I stayed up, pressing my lips to her hair, whispering the same thing over and over: it would pass, we’d be okay. Sje’d look up at me with those glassy eyes and ask, “Why doesn’t father come?” I tried to dodge it, but she was too smart. One night, in the dark, he whispered, “Mama… I wish I had a new father. I wish I wasn’t his daughter.”

I broke right there, but I hid it. I kissed her forehead and told her to rest. My tears soaked into her hair while I smiled, pretending I was strong.

Jenniva never missed a chance to turn me into the villain.

...

The first time, she threw herself into the pool, screaming. By the time Gillian ran over, she pointed at me, sobbing that I pushed her. Gillian didn’t even ask. His hand smacked across my face in front of the staff. I stood there dripping with shame while Jenniva clung to him, fake coughing.

The second time, she sprinkled tiny glass shards on her own plate, then screamed I tried to poison her. Gillian’s eyes burned into me. He threw my food to the ground and told me I wasn’t allowed to eat at the table. I cleaned the mess like a servant, stomach growling, while Jenniva smiled at him like an angel.

The third time, she twisted her wrist until it bruised purple, then ran to Gillian crying that I hurt her. He didn’t ask anything. He grabbed me by the hair, slammed me to the floor, and warned me never to touch her again. Zenith cried behind me, but Gillian ignored her too.

The fourth time, she hid her bracelet under my pillow, then gasped and pulled it out in front of everyone. Gillian looked at me like I was dirt. “Thief,” he spat. The maids looked away, pitying me, while Jenniva smirked. He called me a terrible mother right in front of Zenith. My girl clenched her tiny fists, and my heart shattered.

Gillian stayed cold, busy planning Gibeah’s seventh birthday party at some luxury hotel. He praised Gibeah every second, so patient, so kind, while ignoring Zenith’s pain, my existence.

I wanted to call Father, but I knew he wouldn’t believe me. Gillian had already bought him with shares, with promises. So I stayed quiet, holding Zenith’s trembling hands. I whispered, “We just have to survive. Aamon will come. Just a little longer.”

Zenith, pale and sweaty, whispered back, “Mama… I don’t want to be his daughter anymore. Let’s leave. I hate them for hurting you. I hate him for choosing Gio.”

I stroked her hair, chest breaking into pieces, and promised her a new beginning. Even if I didn’t know how, I promised.

The night of Gio’s party, Gillian left with Jenniva and Gibeah, their laughter echoing through the halls while Zenith and I stayed behind in the villa. Then Johnny appeared at the door.

“Aamon is waiting,” he said.

I followed him. He drove us through the wet night roads, rain sliding down the windows, until we reached the private airport. My heart wouldn’t slow down. Then my phone rang. Gillian.

His voice came through sharp and annoyed. “Where the hell are you, Odette? Get here. Gibeah’s banquet is starting. I want you serving the guests. And don’t bring Zenith. She’ll just ruin the mood.”

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

Then Jenniva’s voice slipped in, sweet and toxic. “Come on, Odette. You’ll miss all the fun. And thank you, babe, for giving our little girl the best birthday ever.”

My throat closed up. My hand shook, but I held the phone tighter. Gillian laughed softly. “Anything for you, babe. And for Gibeah—”

“Happy divorce, Gillian. Go to hell, you bastard.”

I hung up before he could answer and threw the phone out into the rain. It smashed against the wet ground, the screen flashing once before going dark.

The silence inside the car felt heavy. Then Johnny gave a low whistle, grinning. “Well, look at that. You’ve got claws after all. Aamon’s going to like this version of you.”

My chest rose and fell too fast. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Zenith’s small body was warm against me, and I held her tighter, turning away from Johnny’s stare.

The car slowed, tires crunching on the private runway. Ahead, a jet waited under bright lights, cold and sharp in the rain. My legs felt numb when Johnny opened the door.

“Time to meet the man who’s been waiting,” he said, still smiling.

I clutched Zenith and forced myself up the steps. The air smelled like metal and fuel. My knees almost gave out when I stepped inside.

He was there. Aamon.

He looked even sharper than I remembered. Colder. More dangerous. Dark suit, darker eyes. Like he was carved out of ice. He didn’t move. Just watched me.

“Aamon…” My voice broke.

The corner of his mouth shifted, not quite a smile. His voice was low, calm, and hard. “You’re finally here.”

…

GILLIAN'S POV

Jenniva leaned close, her perfume thick and sweet, wrapping around me like silk. Her voice was soft, almost teasing. “Don’t blow your top, Gillian. Odette’s just jealous. You know how she gets. If you get mad, she wins. Let her stew in her corner while I stay by your side.”

I smirked, brushing my thumb across her wrist where Gibeah couldn’t see. “You always know how to calm me down. She’s nothing. Look at us. Look at Gibeah. This is the real family.”

Her lashes lowered, her smile like honey. “Exactly, babe. Everyone can see it. Odette can scream and sulk all she wants, but she’s powerless. Tonight is ours.”

And she was right. By the time we pulled into the villa, my chest swelled. Untouchable. My enemies feared me, my partners envied me, my woman worshipped me, and my son carried my name like a crown.

The second we stepped inside, I barked, “Coffee. Now.”

The maids froze. I clicked my tongue. “Where the hell is Odette? Tell her to come down. I don’t care if it’s midnight.”

One maid finally shuffled forward, bowing so low her voice shook. “Mrs. Washington… she’s gone, sir. Took young miss Zenith with her.”