### Chapter 1

To save my son from leukemia, my husband worked himself to the bone every single day, burying us under hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt.

After my son died, I threw myself into three jobs at once, pushing through until my stomach bled, all so Dominic Ashford wouldn't have to carry the weight alone.

On his birthday, I decided to surprise him on his business trip. I gritted my teeth, spent half a month's wages, and bought the last available ticket.

The flight attendant wheeled the meal cart over and leaned down with a smile. "Ma'am, for lunch we have Wagyu steak and cod. Which would you prefer?"

I glanced at the beautifully plated food and blurted out, "Isn't this... really expensive? Maybe I'll just skip it."

The words had barely left my mouth when a scoff came from the seat beside me.

"Business class meals are complimentary. Skipping it won't get you a refund."

"Oh... really?" Heat flooded my cheeks. "It's my first time flying."

The woman beside me was dripping in jewelry. The Van Cleef & Arpels bracelet on her wrist alone, the one I'd seen in magazine ads, had to be worth over a million dollars.

Next to her, a little boy was fast asleep, his head bowed. He looked about three years old.

I couldn't help my surprise. "You're so young, and you've been married a while?"

"Married?" The woman toyed with the massive diamond on her finger and let out a dry laugh. "That bastard told me he'd give me everything. Everything except a marriage certificate."

"What?"

She rolled her eyes.

"I'm his mistress. Never seen one before? I'm his secretary. He's got a plain little wife back home." She gave me a sidelong look. "About your age, actually. He says she's about as exciting as a plank of wood. The thought of sleeping with her makes him sick."

"Anyway, are you traveling for work?"

"No," I said, forcing a weak smile. "It's my husband's birthday. I wanted to surprise him."

"What a coincidence. My boss's birthday is today too. He told his wife he was on a business trip, but really he booked tickets to the Disneyland in Harbor City. Insisted I bring our son along."

The child stirred awake just then, rubbing his eyes and whining for something to drink.

The woman pursed her glossy red lips and waved to the flight attendant. "Orange juice for my son, please."

"That one time things got a little too crazy, and he forgot to use protection... and then, well." She shrugged. "He told me to keep the baby. Said the wife's kid had some terminal illness anyway, so my son would be his only heir."

"Do you have kids?"

"I did."

My gaze drifted to the boy, and I went rigid.

Why?

The navy-blue suit I'd sewn by hand for my son before he died. Why was her child wearing it?

...

No. My husband, Dominic Ashford, was just a regular working-class guy. How could he possibly be some billionaire?

I fought to keep my hands from shaking. "That's a cute outfit on him. Did you buy it?"

"No. It belonged to his dead kid."

She barely glanced at it, her tone breezy and indifferent.

"Clothes off a dead child are bad luck. Plus it's ugly. I wouldn't have looked twice at it normally."

"But on the day my son started preschool, the wife's brat was being buried, and what does he do? Runs back to comfort her. Couldn't even be bothered to show up for his own son's first day of school!"

I stared at the little deer embroidered on the right side of the chest, each stitch placed by my own hand, and those hopeless days came flooding back.

In my son's final hours, he begged me to buy him something with a little deer on it.

It was the only thing he'd ever asked for in his four short years of life.

I couldn't even afford his medical bills. I went to sell my blood for the fifth time, bought the finest fabric I could find, and sewed this little suit by hand.

But when the suit was finished, my son was gone before he ever got to wear it.

I cried until I passed out, over and over, my heart shattered beyond repair.

Dominic, who hadn't rested in months, took time off to handle the funeral arrangements, running himself ragged taking care of everything.

When I finally came to, the suit was gone. He held me and wept.

"I was afraid it would break your heart all over again, so I buried it with him."

"It's my fault. I'm useless. I couldn't earn enough money to save our son."

I looked at his bloodshot eyes and the deep shadows carved beneath them, and shook my head through my tears.

"It's not your fault. Dominic, you did everything you could. You were a good father."

For days and nights after that, I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep.

In the small hours of the morning, he'd drag himself home, exhausted to the bone, and still find the strength to hold me, soothing me gently.

"Once we've paid off the debt, we'll try for another baby, okay? I'm going to work even harder. For you."

I shook my head, tears streaming.

"Don't push yourself so hard. We'll pay it off together."

From that day on, I worked three jobs.

To save every penny, I waited until after seven each evening to buy the marked-down produce.

When pork got too expensive, I started buying the scraps and offcuts that nobody else wanted.

Now I watched Eve Sullivan slice into a premium Wagyu steak with perfect elegance.

I said nothing.

While my son was alive, he never once wore a decent piece of clothing. And here she was, waving her knife and fork around, bragging that a single cufflink on her son's sleeve cost hundreds of thousands.

I asked, "So you just let him steal the suit and give it to your son?"

"Well, he didn't want to at first. Said the thing was cheap and it'd be beneath our son to wear it."

She stroked the little boy's head as he sipped his juice.

"But when he heard the wife made it herself, nearly went blind sewing it, I got curious."

"I mean, if she's pathetic enough to stick around, she deserves what she gets, right?"

I clenched my jaw.

"Honestly, it's not like I even needed it. But knowing she poured her heart into something that ended up on my son? That felt good."

"Plus my boy liked it. Said the little deer was cute. So I told him to bring it over."

I pressed down the violent heaving in my chest and kept going.

"Your boss treats you and your son so well. Doesn't his wife ever make a fuss?"

Eve Sullivan's eyes narrowed with satisfaction, and she threw her head back in a laugh that shook her shoulders.

"That plain little wife of his has no idea he's worth billions."

### Chapter 2

"Impressive," I said. "The kid's already that big, and he's still hiding it from his wife."

"Well, can you blame him? The woman's an idiot. I heard she works three jobs just to pay off debt." Eve crossed her long, pale legs. "Even then, she barely makes anything. She thinks her husband's using the money to pay down what they owe, but actually..."

I froze.

She flashed a sly smile, then picked up her phone, tapped the screen, and held it in front of my face.

"All that money? I spent it on dog food for our little Dudu!"

A snow-white poodle filled the screen.

"See? When a man stops loving you, you're worth less than his mistress's dog."

Half a dozen servants surrounded the poodle, grooming its coat, blow-drying its fur, chasing after it with plates of plump, fatty salmon, as though they were attending to royalty.

Something lodged deep in my chest and climbed into my throat. I couldn't speak.

To save money for my son's medical bills, I had never once eaten breakfast. Dinner was a few bites of cold bread. I was dizzy with hunger more often than not.

Even a dog lived better than I did.

Eve was on a roll.

"This trip to Harbor City, he knows I hate noise, so he booked out the entire floor of the hotel."

"Meanwhile that idiot wife is sitting in her little slum apartment waiting for him to come home. Waiting for nothing! Six days a week he's 'working overtime,' and the whole time we're at the villa, having the time of our lives."

I lowered my gaze.

"Why does he treat her like that?"

"Are you slow? What man doesn't want someone young and gorgeous?" She thrust out her chest and winked at me. "If you were a man, could you stand sleeping next to some washed-up hag who looked like you? Let alone spending money on her."

I said nothing.

She looked me up and down.

"Hey, come in for a treatment. I'll give you fifty percent off."

She pulled a glittering gold business card from her Chanel bag.

"What's this?"

"For my birthday this year, he secretly spent a fortune building a cosmetic surgery clinic in Harbor City, just for me. A gift. You know what he said? He said my beauty was his pride."

"He's absolutely crazy about me."

She was right about one thing. I stared at her, drenched in love and money. She'd had a child and still looked young and stunning. Crimson lips, killer figure, not a single fine line at the corners of her eyes.

And me? Hollowed out from overtime shifts, my face gaunt and sallow, my lips cracked and peeling, my eyes dull and empty.

"When's your birthday?" I asked.

"April first." Something crossed her mind, and she broke into a radiant smile. "Best birthday I ever had."

She pressed the card into my hand.

"Seriously, you should take better care of yourself."

"Your bone structure's not bad. Fix yourself up a little and maybe you can hold on to your man. Trust me."

April first. Six months ago.

A day I would never forget.

My fifth wedding anniversary with Dominic.

That day, I worked late as usual. It was pouring, and I couldn't bring myself to spend the money on a cab, so I walked home in the rain and came down with a fever.

I couldn't bring myself to go to the hospital, either. Dominic sent me a hundred dollars and told me to see a doctor.

I bought the cheapest fever reducers I could find.

With what was left, I put together something that almost resembled a candlelit dinner.

I waited until the food went stone cold before Dominic finally called. His voice was heavy with guilt.

"I'm sorry, babe. The company sprung a last-minute business trip on me. I need the money for our son's treatment, so I had to say yes."

That night, the hospital issued another critical condition notice for our son.

I called Dominic ninety-nine times. Sent ninety-nine messages. Every single one vanished into silence.

The next morning, he called back, dark circles carved deep under his eyes. He said he'd been up all night and had only just seen my messages.

I didn't doubt him for a second.

But the truth was, he had flown to Harbor City to spend a fortune celebrating his mistress's birthday.

I stared at the photos on Eve's phone, unable to look away.

So that night, he'd booked out the most exclusive luxury shopping strip in Harbor City and swept through every store for her.

On the hilltop, he'd set off fireworks that lit up the entire city.

Then they'd gone back to a seven-star hotel and spent the rest of the night together.

The dark circles under his eyes hadn't come from working overtime. They'd come from a night of pleasure.

He was still wrapped in her arms.

And our son was gone.

When Dominic got the news, he rushed back immediately. He collapsed in front of our son's portrait and wept like a broken man.

"If Daddy hadn't been on that business trip, he would've been there. He would've seen you one last time! Daddy's worthless. Daddy failed you!"

I even comforted him.

"It's okay. You did it for our son, for this family. He wouldn't blame you."

But the truth was, it wasn't that he couldn't make it back. He chose not to.

"You know, he actually wanted to come home that night."

I looked up. "Then why didn't he? Just to stay with you?"

"Ha." Eve laughed softly and leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper by my ear.

"I told him, 'The kid's not going to make it anyway. Just wait for it to die. The wife will blame herself for not taking better care of it, and she'll feel like she owes you. So even if she finds out about us, you've got the perfect excuse: you were so heartbroken over losing the child that you looked for comfort somewhere else. What right would she have to blame you?'"

Every muscle in my body trembled. I fought to hold still.

"Besides, with that little brat gone, my son inherits everything."

"The wife's already wrecked her body working three jobs. Ruined her womb. No looks, no figure, can't even pop out another kid. What's she got to compete with me?"

Eve swung her legs idly and took a delicate sip of champagne.

I stared at her, unblinking.

"Aren't you afraid of karma?"

"Karma?" Eve threw her head back and howled with laughter, as if she'd just heard the funniest joke in the world.

"Oh, sweetie, you don't even know. His marriage certificate with that woman? It's fake."

### Chapter 3

My head buzzed, and my entire body went numb.

"What? The marriage certificate is fake?"

"Yep! That frumpy little wife and her kid spent five whole years suffering through poverty with him, and they never even knew. Honestly, I feel sorry for them!"

Her plump cheeks twitched as she pouted in displeasure.

"But even so, he still won't leave his ugly duckling wife. I have no idea what he's thinking."

My voice came out dry and cracked. "Why? Why would he use a fake certificate to deceive her?"

"Well, right when they were about to get married, he and I happened to be, you know..." She waved her hand suggestively. "He was chasing me hard. I got angry and threw a fit, threatened to kill myself. To calm me down, he actually went out and bought a fake certificate for fifty bucks."

So the marriage I'd fought tooth and nail to hold together was nothing but a scam worth fifty dollars.

Eve tossed her dark curls over her shoulder, triumph radiating from every pore. "So he and I are the real thing. The one who isn't loved is the other woman here—"

Crack.

My palm connected with her face before either of us saw it coming.

She shrieked, clutching her cheek, her pretty eyes blown wide. "Did you just fucking hit me?!"

"You made sure my child never got to see his father one last time. Are you even human?!" I screamed, my eyes burning red.

A sharp pain tore through my thigh.

"Bad lady! You're hurting my mommy! I'll bite you to death!"

I looked down. Eve's son had latched onto my leg, sinking his teeth in.

The little boy was arrogant, his small eyes brimming with hostility.

And then I finally saw it clearly. That face. It looked so much like Dominic's childhood photos.

So much like my son.

In that moment, the designer outfit on his little body seared my vision like a brand.

I forgot the pain. Something inside me snapped, and I lunged for the tiny suit jacket.

"Take it off! Take it off!"

The child went white with terror at the crazed woman clawing at him and burst into wails.

Eve flew at me, her manicured nails raking through the air.

"You psycho! That's Dominic Ashford's son!"

Two flight attendants rushed over, grabbing my arms, hauling me back in a frantic tangle of limbs.

"Ms. Simmons, please, you can't take this out on a child!"

"Besides, Miss Sullivan and her son are VIP clients. You really can't afford to cross them."

VIP clients?

One of the attendants pulled me aside and whispered, "She's a premium guest with our airline. She's the woman of that billionaire Mr. Ashford, the one worth tens of billions. You don't want this fight."

So the whole world knew he was a billionaire. Everyone except his own wife.

I went to the restroom and splashed water on my face, trying to pull myself together.

As I turned to leave, I heard glass shatter somewhere behind me. Before I could react, a red stiletto heel hooked my ankle.

"Ah—!"

I hit the floor hard. Shards of broken glass bit into my kneecaps, and I sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth.

Eve stood over me, arms crossed, looking down like I was something stuck to her shoe.

"What exactly do you think you are, daring to hit me?"

Her eyes were venomous. "You said you had a child once. Don't tell me it died?"

"Look at you. Pathetic, disgusting. No wonder your man doesn't want you. That's why you're so insanely jealous of me, isn't it?"

I got up.

Without a word, I grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed her head toward the sink counter.

"You—how dare you?!"

Eve thrashed wildly, and the flight attendants who'd been hovering nearby charged in instantly.

A male attendant shoved me back, hard and rough. I hit the floor again.

Eve screamed at a pitch that could shatter crystal.

"You all saw that! This trash tried to attack me! I'm calling the police!"

The male attendant dropped all pretense of courtesy.

"Did you hear that, Ms. Simmons? If you lay a hand on Miss Sullivan again, we'll have airport security waiting at the gate."

"I'd suggest you behave."

They ushered Eve out with the care and deference reserved for royalty.

I pulled the glass shards from my knees one by one, my whole body trembling with pain.

Then I got up and limped back to my seat.

The flight attendants swarmed around Eve and her son, treating her with the reverence of courtiers before a queen.

"Miss Sullivan, we're so sorry for the disturbance. Please, this is a freshly opened bottle of champagne to help calm your nerves."

"And for the little gentleman, this is a limited-edition collector's model, brand new. We hope he likes it."

"Please don't hesitate to let us know if there's anything else you need. Again, our sincerest apologies for this unpleasant experience."

I sat expressionless. I connected to the in-flight Wi-Fi, pulled up the photo of our marriage certificate on my phone, and sent it to Dominic.

A long pause before he replied.

"? I'm swamped at work, practically dying over here. I really wish I could spend your birthday with you."

I typed back:

"Dominic, is our marriage certificate real?"