“Naya, how could you push her? If you’ve been wronged, say so, but why lash out at a child?” His voice rose sharply.

Naya looked at him, her chest tight. That face, once so full of love, now only showed anger.

When they first married, he used to say she was his everything.

He worried if she so much as stubbed a toe. A mosquito bite would send him into a frenzy—he once ordered drones to spray their garden after she complained of itching.

Now, her palms were bloodied, and he didn’t even glance at them. Without another word, Cesar turned and carried Abigail away.

“Stay home for the next two days,” he said over his shoulder, cold and dismissive. “Think about what you’ve done.”

The door slammed and silence followed. Naya stared out the window, watching his figure disappear down the steps.

A faint, bitter smile crept across her lips.

Four days passed before she saw either of them again. Her luggage was packed by then, waiting for the right moment.

Abigail scowled the second she saw her. “Dad, I don’t want to see Mom. I want to stay with Zora.”

Naya’s lips twitched; half a smile, half something darker.

Of course. They had spent the last few days together and completely forgotten about her.

“Abigail,” Cesar said, waving the servants over. “Take her upstairs.”

The once-bustling living room fell into abrupt silence.

“Naya, I just found out Zora isn’t dead. She’s returned to Chirean. She ran into Abigail at the hospital and stayed with her for a few days. Don’t misunderstand, she and I are just friends. We’re family,” Cesar said, his voice steady.

Naya looked at his serious expression and nearly laughed. ‘Friends? Friends who appear on marriage certificates? Family? And who exactly counts as family?’

The thought made her lips curl into a cold sneer. Still, she didn’t expose him. She simply let him take her hand.

“Naya, what happened to your hand? When did you get this scar?” Cesar turned her palm over, revealing the faded pink mark.

He gently ran his fingers across her skin, his face full of concern, like it meant something. Naya’s stomach turned. The hypocrisy was nauseating.

He didn’t love her, never had. And yet here he was, playing the role of the perfect husband.

“I wasn’t fair the other day,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you over Abigail’s fall. Let me get you some more ointment.”

“No need. It’s already healed,” Naya said, calmly pulling her hand away. Her hand had healed. But the scar on her heart, she knew it would never fade.

Cesar seemed thrown off by her coldness. Without a word, he took her hand again and led her upstairs, saying he had an anniversary gift for her.

Naya opened the box gently. Inside was a set of sheer, flowing chiffon pajamas; lacy, silky, revealing.

The sight of it made her stomach twist.

Cesar had always had odd ideas about what marriage should be. Naya didn’t like them, but she couldn’t stand to see him upset. So she endured the discomfort and played along.

Back then, she was still lost in the illusion that he loved her with all his heart. She believed that the more she gave, the more he would love her in return.

But now, looking at the sheer, sultry sleepwear, all she felt was revulsion. She calmly folded the clothes and pushed them into the back of the closet.

When she looked up, Cesar was staring at her, clearly surprised. Naya just gave a small, knowing smile.

If it were back then, even if she disliked it, she would still pretend to be pleased.

“Abigail’s grown up now,” she said softly. “We should be more careful.”

Cesar sighed and turned to leave the room. But just as he reached the door, his phone rang.

Naya glanced up, and it was none other than Zora.

Cesar’s expression shifted slightly. “Naya, something urgent came up. You should get some rest, no need to wait for me.”

He grabbed his coat and quickly stood up.

Naya watched his flustered figure rush out the door, a dull ache blooming in her chest.

She didn’t listen. Instead of resting at home like he said, she quietly followed him, keeping a careful distance as she trailed him through the night.

The car came to a stop in front of a house, and Cesar hurried through the gate and into the garden.

Inside the glass greenhouse, Zora lay on the sofa, clad in the same sheer chiffon nightwear. She clutched her chest with a delicate expression; brows lightly furrowed, the image of a fragile beauty.

The moment Cesar saw her, he rushed forward and pulled her into his arms. “Zora, don’t wear this anymore. If someone sees us, I’ll lose my mind.”

As he spoke, he took off his coat and wrapped it around her. Zora smiled teasingly. “What about her? Didn’t you give her the same thing?”

“How could she ever compare to you?” Cesar’s voice was thick with desire. “You’re bold, confident. These things were made for you.”

As he spoke, he began to kiss her skin, inch by inch.

But Zora pushed him away, tears shimmering at the corners of her eyes. “Cesar, what do you take me for? Another girl like Naya, someone who sold herself just to climb higher? Tell me, what exactly are we?”

“Of course we’re husband and wife,” Cesar murmured against her lips, kissing her again.

But those words, sharp as ice, cut through both Zora’s and Naya’s hearts like blades.

Zora collapsed into Cesar’s arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You’re my husband, but you spend every day with that woman. Even Abigail calls her mom. When will I finally be able to live in the open? Do you love her?”

“Of course not,” Cesar said hurriedly. “If I did, would I have gone so far as to swap your child with hers and toss hers into the trash without even a tombstone?”

Naya’s breath hitched. She staggered back, stunned.

She had imagined the worst before, that the child was discarded, forgotten. But hearing it from Cesar himself shattered something inside her.

He used to pray for their baby. He’d lie next to her belly, listening to every tiny sound.

He stroked her skin, whispered to the life growing inside. He held her hand, told stories, shared dreams of a future.

He’d loved their baby, or so she thought. Yet he left her child to rot, without even a name.

Before she could recover, another noise broke through the glass. Cesar pressed Zora beneath him, their bodies close, their kisses loud and urgent.

Outside, Naya’s eyes reddened. Pain ripped through her chest like a knife.

She glanced up one last time at the scene inside, then turned and walked away without looking back.

Once in the car, she grabbed her phone and called.

“How much longer?” she asked coldly. “I’m done waiting.”

“Two weeks,” the voice answered. “I’ll stage the accident and get him out of your life.”

After hanging up the phone, Naya took a deep breath. In just two more weeks, she would be gone from this place, leaving Cesar behind for good.

When she got home, Abigail was already sound asleep. Her rosy cheeks were dotted with dimples, a picture of peace and innocence.

Looking at her, a flicker of sorrow passed through Naya’s heart. If her own child had lived, she would’ve been just as lovely.

Just then, a message came in from an unknown number. She opened it, it was a video. In it, Cesar and Zora were tangled together, kissing passionately.

Before Naya could react, a follow-up text arrived.

[Ms. Steele, I’m sure you’ve seen what just happened. You also know Abigail is my biological daughter, and Cesar is my lawful husband. I hope you’ll know your place and leave Cesar soon.]

Naya stared at the message, the smugness practically oozing from the screen. It wasn’t just a warning, it was Zora’s way of staking her claim.

But as she thought about the five years she’d wasted, a bitter wave of resentment rose in her chest.

She replied without hesitation, [If it’s so righteous and official, why are you still hiding like a coward?]

Then, without waiting for a response, Naya switched off her phone.

She had no interest in sparring with the self-proclaimed queen, let alone falling into her carefully laid trap.

It wasn’t until five days later that Cesar finally came home.

During that time, he had sent Naya multiple messages claiming to be away on business. Naya, suppressing her disgust, had replied from time to time.

It was for no other reason than to disappear before he noticed.

Cesar was known for being fiercely competitive. He could discard others without a second thought, but he would never tolerate being the one left behind.

That was why Naya had decided to fake her own death.

Perhaps sensing something off, Cesar returned bearing gifts: a delicate dress and a pair of pink diamond earrings.

“Naya, why don’t you try them on?” he said, crouching like a gentleman to help her put on the earrings.

His sincerity might have moved her, if she hadn’t known about the gifts. Just three minutes earlier, Zora had posted a video flaunting her luxury.

In it, she wore a full pink diamond necklace and a custom-made designer gown. Tossed carelessly at her feet, clearly labeled as gifts, were the same earrings and dress Cesar had just brought home.

Naya watched him, amused by the performance.

Cesar seemed to pick up on her mood. He gently set the earrings down and reached out, preparing to pull her into a hug.

But before he could, Abigail ran into his arms. “Daddy! It’s been so long. I missed you so much.”

Snuggling into his neck, she took a deep breath. “Why do you smell like Zora? Ohhh, I get it. You’ve been with her these past few days, haven’t you?”

Her innocent remark landed like a blade. Cesar stiffened. The air turned cold with awkward silence.

But Abigail, oblivious, went on cheerfully, “Zora always smells so nice. I love her the most! Daddy, when are you going to marry her so she can be my mom?”