It all started when I threw away a strawberry cake while cleaning the fridge. That cake belonged to Charlee Zender—the orphan young woman Cortey McEnroe, my husband, had adopted.

Because of it, he deliberately hid her away at the very moment my mother was in a car accident and desperately needed a blood transfusion.

No matter how many times I knelt to beg him, he remained indifferent.

In the end, Mom wasn’t saved in time. She died.

I was drowning in grief. And yet, on my way to collect her death certificate, I caught sight of Charlee and her supposedly foster father entangled together in the stairwell.

Her cheeks were flushed pink as she leaned against his chest, her voice sweet.

“Daddy, I heard Grandma's car accident was really serious today. We disappeared on purpose like this... It won’t cause any trouble, will it?”

“I arranged the very best doctors for her,” Cortey reassured her. “She won’t die.”

He pinched her nose to comfort her—something he used to do only to me.

“If anyone’s to blame, it’s Sevlene for being petty enough to throw out your favorite cake. Consider this her punishment. No matter what, you’re my daughter. Of course, I’ll protect you.”

But he forgot—high-fat food wasn’t allowed before a blood transfusion.

He also forgot—the only reason he adopted that young woman in the first place was so his sick mother-in-law could have regular blood transfusions.

After I discovered their affair, the blood in my body seemed to freeze. My nails dug deep into my palms.

Since his heart had already gone astray, I decided to give them what they wanted.

But not before making them pay for my mother’s death!

…

Sevlene’s POV

“Mom, Cortey is in love with someone else now. Please help me persuade him to divorce.”

I stood at the end of the hallway, my throat hoarse.

“Weren’t you the one insisting your love was so true you couldn’t let go?”

On the other end of the call came a cold and disdainful laugh.

“You and my son were never from the same world. You should’ve realized that five years ago. But no—you had to wait until your mother died before regretting it. Serves you right.

“I’ll send someone with the divorce papers. Just sign them. Once the one-month cooling-off period is over, don’t ever appear in front of my son again.”

Ten minutes later, the divorce agreement was in my hands.

The moment I signed my name, it felt like a crushing weight had finally lifted off my shoulders.

When I returned to the ward, all the machines had been removed from my mother’s bedside. She lay there quietly, as though she were only asleep.

I held her wrinkled hand. My tears fell onto the bedsheet.

“Mom… I’m sorry. I failed you.”

Five years ago, Cortey was the famously aloof heir of the McEnroes, almost thirty and never once entangled with women. His indifference made his family worried sick.

No one expected that he would fall head over heels for me—a girl born in the slums, working in a bar just to survive—and pursue me with relentless fervor.

To make sure I ate breakfast on time, a man whose fingers had never touched household chores made me breakfast every single morning without fail.

When a drunk customer once made a dirty joke at me, Cortey beat him straight into the hospital and erased his entire family’s presence from the city.

To protect me, he married me against his family’s objections and declared it to the entire world.

Then, a year ago, my mother was diagnosed with a rare illness that required ongoing blood transfusions.

Cortey scoured all his connections until he found someone with the same rare Rh-negative blood type—Charlee.

She was an orphan, penniless, so Cortey adopted her with a ten-million-dollar exchange, ensuring a steady supply of blood for my mother.

At first, aside from necessary conversations during transfusions, Cortey always treated her like she was invisible.

But at some point, things began to change.

He started going into her room every night to tuck her in, kissing her forehead gently like a doting father.

When she was bullied at school, he abandoned multimillion-dollar deals just to defend her.

He remembered her birthday but forgot our wedding anniversary.

I loved him too much, so I refused to admit our marriage was crumbling.

But my mother’s death forced me to face the truth.

Cortey had fallen in love—with his so-called daughter.

For seven whole days, he never once visited my mother and never even called.

I had her cremated all alone. And then, I held the funeral by myself.

The guests, seeing me alone, couldn’t help but wonder where my husband was—how could he not be by my side at such an important moment?

All I could do was awkwardly say he was busy.

Well, he was busy traveling everywhere with Charlee.

She updated her Facebook every day.

He took her to the restaurant where we had our first date.

He watched my favorite romance movie—with her.

He even brought her to see the northern lights I had always dreamed of but never managed to witness.

Just ten minutes ago, she posted again.

Her right hand was wrapped thickly in gauze, held carefully in a familiar large hand.

I instantly recognized it as Cortey’s. On his wrist gleamed the very watch I had given him on our wedding day.

The post came with a caption.

[Daddy says my blood is precious. Just one needle prick and he’s wrapping my hand so tightly.]

Cortey left a comment.

[Your blood is your grandma’s lifesaving medicine. Of course, I have to protect it.]

Oh, look, who still remembered my mother.

But he didn’t know—Mom had already been dead for seven days.

I glanced at the urn in my arms, and then I typed a cold reply.

[My mom has no granddaughter like her, and she doesn’t need her blood anymore.]

Almost instantly, my phone rang. It was Cortey.

“What nonsense are you spouting in Charlee’s post? So she missed one transfusion—was it really worth making a scene? If you hadn’t thrown away her cake, would I have treated you like this?

“Your mother’s life depends on her. And don’t forget, Charlee’s my daughter. You should respect her. She’s not just some blood bank you can control at will.”

A bitter laugh escaped me.

“Your daughter? That’s funny. I’ve never seen a father kiss his daughter the way you do.”

The next second, I hung up without another word.

What I didn’t expect was to see him at home when I returned.

Charlee sat beside him, her cheeks flushed, her complexion healthier than a week ago.

When Cortey saw the urn in my hands, his brows knitted together.

“What’s that?”

“My mother’s ashes,” I answered flatly.

The moment those words came out, the air froze.

At once, Charlee burst into tears, choking out, “Mommy, I know you’re mad at me, but skipping just one transfusion wouldn’t have killed Grandma. You didn’t need to scare me with an urn!

“I was wrong, I won’t throw tantrums or hide again. Please don’t be mad at me anymore. Don’t scare me with things like this again…”

I frowned. “Don’t call me Mommy. It makes me sick.”

Cortey looked stunned at first until he glared and scolded me.

“Sevlene, have you lost your mind? To scare Charlee, you’d even curse your own mother? How could I never have seen how vicious you truly are?”

Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion hit me. I couldn’t even be bothered to explain. Holding the urn, I made my way upstairs.

But Charlee’s pitiful voice rang out behind me.

“Daddy, Mrs. McEnroe knew today was the anniversary of my adoption, yet she deliberately brought an urn into the house. Isn’t that basically a curse, wishing me a life of bad luck?

“I’ve always known she doesn’t like me, Daddy. After all, I was only brought here to be a blood bank. It’s my fault. I don’t deserve to keep my dignity. I’ll go right now and give Grandma my blood—every last drop of it if that’s what it takes.”

Tears streamed down her face as she made to rush out.

Cortey yanked her back and held her tightly. His voice shook with urgency.

“You’re not a blood bank, Charlee. You’re my precious daughter. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

The next thing I knew, he stormed toward me, ripped the urn from my arms, and hurled it into the trash outside.

“Sevlene, stop pushing things too far. Charlee is pure and kind. She can’t withstand your torment.”

The urn… My mother’s urn shattered, her ashes scattering across the ground.

My breath caught. My vision burned red as I dropped to my knees, digging through the filth to gather what was left of my mother.

Cortey froze for a moment, surprise flickering in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but his so-called daughter suddenly fainted.

Panic surged across his face. He scooped her into his arms and shot me a look of threat.

“Look at what you’ve done. You frightened her to the point of collapse. If something happens to her, who’s going to donate blood for your mother?”

With that, he carried her bridal-style and left without looking back.

Meanwhile, I cradled the last remains of my mother in trembling hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Cortey’s car drive away.

‘Cortey!’ I screamed inside my head. ‘My mom no longer needs blood because… because she’s already gone!’

Sevlene’s POV

That night, Cortey didn’t return to the villa.

I sat in front of my mother’s urn, staring at it through the long hours of the night, unable to close my eyes even once.

The next morning, I went straight to the company and handed in my resignation.

My manager looked at me in surprise.

“Why so sudden? You used to love this job more than anything. If it weren’t for your mother’s car accident, you never even took time off.”

The mention of my mother made my nose sting. My throat was dry and hoarse when I answered.

“My mom… has passed away.”

The manager froze for a moment, then sighed softly, offering words of comfort.

When my colleagues heard I was leaving, they all came over to send me off. That was when someone suddenly rushed in with a grin.

“Sevlene, your husband’s here to pick you up.”

The moment the words landed, a chorus of teasing rose around me.

“So that’s why Sevlene suddenly quit while she was doing so well—she’s going home to be a full-time wife?”

“With a husband that rich, handsome, and faithful, being his full-time wife doesn’t sound bad at all. Honestly, I’m kind of jealous.”

Their laughter and envy filled the air, but I couldn’t force even a smile.

They thought my marriage was happy and perfect. Only I knew it was already broken, riddled with cracks too deep to fix.

Hugging a cardboard box of my stuff, I walked to the familiar Maybach parked outside.

Just as I reached to open the passenger door, the tinted window rolled down. My gaze fell directly on Charlee—her body bent low over Cortey’s lap, her chest pressing tightly against him as she rummaged for something.

Cortey’s breathing was heavy, his Adam’s apple bobbing hard. The moment he noticed me, his face stiffened. He hurriedly pushed his so-called daughter aside.

“S-Sevlene. Charlee dropped a hair clip in the car. She was just looking for it.”

Charlee’s cheeks flushed crimson. Her voice trembled, dripping with feigned embarrassment.

“Mrs. McEnroe, I…”

“There’s no need to explain. I won’t misunderstand.” I cut her off coldly, unwilling to watch their stupid performance.

Cortey’s expression shifted. His eyes flicked to the box in my arms, a flicker of something strange crossing them.

“You resigned?”

“Mm. I don’t want to work anymore.” I didn’t bother with more explanation and steered the conversation away. “So, what did you come for?”

“My mother’s birthday is in a few days,” he said, a faint trace of expectation in his tone. “She told me herself to bring you along. She’s never been willing to accept you, but suddenly she’s changing her attitude. I think she’s finally given up trying to split us apart. So, I planned to take you shopping—pick out a gift for her, and also buy you an evening dress for the party.”

At those words, I caught the flash of envy in Charlee’s eyes, so sharp it nearly overflowed.

But I knew better. Edna wasn’t suddenly softening toward me. She was preparing to introduce the city’s finest young ladies to Cortey at her birthday party.

She wanted me there for one reason only—so I could see the difference between me and her son.

Soon after I got into the car, Cortey brought us to the city’s largest shopping mall.

He claimed it was for me, but his gaze trailed Charlee the entire time.

She offhandedly mentioned liking a pair of heels, and Cortey immediately bought every similar pair in the store.

She complained that her bag was uncomfortable to carry, and he ordered every luxury handbag they had in stock, telling her to try them all and pick whichever she liked.

When she grew tired from walking, he fussed over her, buying drinks and even crouching to massage her feet.

Overwhelmed by his gestures, Charlee’s eyes glowed with adoration.

“Daddy… You’re so good to me.”

Cortey looked at her with gentle indulgence.

“You’re my good daughter. If I don’t treat you well, who should I treat well?”

The two of them played their sickening little game of “father and daughter,” oblivious to everyone else.

And I—like a forgotten extra—stood there watching it all.

Swallowing back the ache in my chest, I focused on carefully choosing a gift for Edna, then selecting a cream-white evening dress for myself.

Just as the sales assistant was about to wrap up my dress, Charlee appeared at my side. Her gaze lit up in wonder as she stared at the dress.

“This dress is so beautiful. If I could wear it, it would look amazing on me… Too bad Mrs. McEnroe picked it first.”

Cortey glanced at her, then at me. His expression tightened, caught between us.

“Sevlene, Charlee lost her parents young. She’s suffered a lot, and she’s never had a dress like this before. Why don’t you let her have it? After all, you already have plenty of dresses at home that you’ve never even worn. You can pick one of those instead later.”

I locked eyes with him, my voice steady, each word carved out like stone.

“What I set my eyes on, there’s no reason for me to give it up.”

With that, I folded the dress neatly, placed it into the bag, and turned to leave—ignoring whatever look might have crossed Cortey’s or Charlee’s faces.

Sevlene’s POV

Just as I was about to step into the elevator, Charlee’s voice rang out behind me.

“Mrs. McEnroe, do you really think snatching a dress from me will make my daddy change his mind about you?”

Her tone was laced with mockery, as if she were tossing out a careless question just to watch me squirm.

My steps faltered. I turned my head toward her and replied evenly, “I never wanted him to change his mind. If you like him, you can have him.”

Perhaps my indifference stung her pride. My words made it sound as though Cortey was nothing more than a disposable toy to me, and that only fueled Charlee’s resentment.

She sneered.

“Keep pretending. You couldn’t hold onto your man, so now you act like you don’t care. Deep down, you probably want me dead, don’t you?”

Her lips curved into a strange, almost sinister smile.

“Well, I can give you that chance.”

Before I could make sense of what she meant, she suddenly let out a loud cry and tumbled down the staircase.

The sickening thud of her head hitting the floor echoed through the shopping mall.

Moments later, Cortey rushed over.

Clutching her bleeding head, Charlee looked up at me in utter despair, her voice trembling with accusation.

“Mrs. McEnroe, I only liked the same dress as you. I didn’t even take it from you! Even if you’re angry, you didn’t have to push me down the stairs…”

Cortey froze, his face shifting with disappointment and rage as his eyes locked on me.

“Sevlene! Do you even care whether your mother lives or dies? Must you torment Charlee before you’re satisfied?”

I shook my head, trying to explain. “I didn’t—”

But before I could finish, he shoved me.

The world spun violently. My body crashed hard against the floor.

In the blur of pain, his furious voice thundered in my ears.

“It’s my fault. I spoiled you all these years and turned you into something this vicious—so cruel you’d even go after an innocent young girl!”

Through my blood-hazed vision, I saw him scoop Charlee into his arms and stride away, stepping right over me without a glancing back.

Agony consumed every bone in my body, yet none of it compared to the pain hollowing out my chest.

That was the same man who had once knelt before me with teary eyes, slipping a opal ring on my finger and swearing he would protect me for a lifetime.

Now, he hurt me for the sake of another woman…

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself lying on a hospital bed.

The doctor let out a sigh of relief upon seeing me awake.

“You’re finally up. How could you fall so badly? If a kind stranger hadn’t brought you in time, you might have…” He stopped himself and shook his head. “Never mind that. You should call your family. With injuries like these, you shouldn’t be left alone.”

I lowered my gaze, my voice heavy with sorrow.

“I don’t have a family. My mother has already passed.”

Pity flickered in the doctor’s eyes.

“Then… your husband? Surely you have a husband.”

I parted my lips to answer, but before I could, commotion drifted in through the window.

“Did you see? The CEO carried his wife in today. She only had a cut on her forehead, yet he called every top specialist in the hospital. Looks like those rumors about him loving his wife to the bone are true.”

“Of course. Even when she said she was afraid of needles, he completely dropped his cold CEO persona and coaxed her like a child, distracting her until she calmed down.”

Their so-called ‘wife’ was clearly referring to Charlee.

Cortey had simply taken all the tenderness he once gave me and bestowed it upon her, piece by piece.

The doctor was still waiting for my response. I forced a smile, swallowing down the bitterness in my chest.

“My husband is gone too. We’re already divorced.”

The words had barely left my mouth when the door slammed open.

Cortey strode in, his face dark as thunder.

“What did you just say? Who the hell are you claiming you divorced?”