I opened the message without emotion.

[Ella, come home tonight. I have something to discuss with you.]

Knowing this conversation was inevitable, I typed a single-word reply.

[Okay.]

When I pushed open the door, I stopped short, my breath catching.

For a moment, I thought I had walked into the wrong house.

The crystal chandeliers and wall sconces bathed the room in warm light. An anime played softly in the living room, where three little boys laughed between bites of snacks.

The dining table was covered with steaming dishes, the air thick with the rich scent of red wine. In the center sat a towering three-tiered cake, its candles flickering. A bouquet of roses, fresh, vibrant, almost too perfect, rested beside it.

Hayden approached with a bright smile, effortlessly taking my bag from my hands.

"Ella, you’re back. Everything’s ready. We were just waiting for you to start dinner."

Noticing my frozen expression, he placed a hand on my back, gently guiding me toward the table.

"Today is the triplets' birthday. I thought this would be a good chance for you to meet them, to bond with them." His voice was light and casual, as if it were normal like this wasn’t ripping me apart.

"So, I arranged a little celebration at home."

Then, he called out, "Diego, Mateo, Bruno, come meet Aunt Ella. After you greet her later, she'll officially be your godmother."

I froze. This wasn’t just an introduction; it was a trap.

The three children barely spared me a glance, their attention fixed on the glowing anime projection. Only after Hayden coaxed them did they reluctantly shuffle over, dragging their feet.

I studied them, searching for something, anything, that resembled Hayden. But their round faces, small eyes, and short, chubby figures bore no trace of him. Especially their expressions, impatience, irritability, and complete uninterest. They carried none of the sharp, striking features he had in his youth.

The tallest boy eyed me with blatant disdain.

"So, you're Ella? You're really ugly, not even close to how pretty my mom is."

I barely had time to process the words before he turned, frowning.

"Mom, is this really the godmother you found for us? I don’t want her. She’s old and ugly."

The other two pouted in agreement.

"If Big Brother doesn’t want her, neither do I. Going out with her would be embarrassing. She dresses so poorly."

Hayden immediately covered the boy’s mouth, his voice firm but coaxing.

"Diego, don’t be rude. Have you forgotten what Dad told you? If you call her godmother, she’ll buy you big toy cars, a big house, and more toys than you can count."

Then, he turned to me, his expression calm, too calm.

"Ella, since the kids are willing to accept you as their godmother, it’s only fair you show some sincerity. I think three million per child from the relocation compensation sounds reasonable, plus another million for a four-bedroom apartment for Eulalie."

"Money is just an external thing. You don’t have children of your own, so sooner or later, it will all go to them anyway. If you win them over now, when you’re old, they’ll take care of you. I’m doing this for your own good."

The tallest boy, clearly the eldest, rolled his eyes before sighing dramatically.

"Mom said you don’t have kids, and that’s just pathetic. We’ll barely accept you as our godmother but don’t be stingy. You have to treat us well. Otherwise, when you’re old, I’ll make you pick up trash and lock you in a dark room to eat leftovers."

Hayden nodded approvingly.

"My son’s got a point. If their godmother treats them well, of course, they’ll return the favor, right?"

"Don’t worry, your godfather has money. Whatever they want, just let me know."

As he spoke, he grabbed my arm, his grip firm, his gaze full of unspoken meaning.

I sneered and shoved him away.

"Who said I wanted to take them as my godsons? Toy cars? Houses? Where’s your real mother? Why isn’t she buying them for you? What’s the point of dragging an outsider into this?"

The eldest’s face twisted with rage. Without warning, he slammed his head into my stomach, his tiny fists pounding against me.

"How dare you talk about my mom! You’re old and stingy; you deserve to be childless!"

"Asking you to buy us a house was just out of pity. Who’d want an ugly freak like you as a godmother?"

The other two sprang forward, clawing at my clothes, their voices sharp with childish cruelty.

"We don’t want you here, ugly freak! Get out!"

Although there were only ten boys, the strength of the boys was startling. Each punch to my stomach sent sharp waves of pain coursing through me. I gritted my teeth, grabbing their arms in an attempt to pry them off.

Yet, they kicked and thrashed with relentless force, their small bodies fueled by unchecked rage. Even Hayden couldn’t rein them in.

Then, a sudden, vicious kick struck my knee. A searing pain exploded through my body.

Overwhelmed, I instinctively flung the boy away. A loud thud followed by a sharp "ouch" filled the air; the eldest had crashed headfirst into the coffee table.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, ear-splitting cries shattered the room.

Clutching my knee, I hunched forward, reaching out to help him. Before I could, a shriek rang out from the kitchen.

My mother-in-law came rushing in. The moment her eyes landed on her grandson’s bleeding forehead, she wailed and threw herself at him, her voice cracking as she sobbed, “My precious baby! My poor, poor baby!”

Seeing the crimson streak trailing down his forehead, guilt gnawed at me. Just as I parted my lips to speak, another figure emerged from the kitchen.

It was my first time seeing Eulalie.

She looked just as she did in the videos: graceful and poised, the image of refined elegance from head to toe.

Instinctively, I glanced down at myself, factory-issued sportswear, scuffed gray sneakers, and a face worn thin from endless exhaustion and sleepless nights.

A bitter taste crept into my throat, spreading through my chest like a slow burn.

Eulalie’s eyes landed on the blood trickling down her son’s forehead. Without hesitation, she gathered him into her arms, her hands trembling as she checked him.

“Mom, it was her! She pushed me! She used so much force!” the eldest boy cried, his sobs shaking his small frame.

Eulalie tightened her hold on him, then turned her gaze on me, cold, sharp, unforgiving.

“Sister Ella, how could you lay hands on a child? Just because you’ve never been a mother and don’t understand maternal love doesn’t mean you have to be so heartless.”

Then, she turned to Hayden, her voice laced with sorrow.

“Brother Hayden, I know your sister has never liked us. That’s why, as you wished, I never set foot in Austin City. All I ever wanted was to raise my children properly. I never had any intention of taking you away from anyone.”

"You told me to bring the children here today because she agreed. I was so happy, thinking we could finally be a family. But I never expected her to treat Diego like this..." Eulalie’s voice trembled with suppressed hurt.

"Brother Hayden, I’ll take the kids and leave. I won’t live under someone else’s roof, always walking on eggshells. And I certainly won’t let my children be mistreated."

Without another word, she picked up Diego, grabbed Mateo and Bruno by the hands, and turned on her heel.

Hayden’s face paled. Panic surged through him as he lunged forward, desperation laced in his voice.

"Eulalie, don’t go! I won’t let you leave! This is your home, your children’s home! Where else would you go?"

His voice cracked as he clung to her retreating figure. "I promise, what happened today will never happen again! No one will ever mistreat you again!"

Then, without warning, he yanked me forward and shoved me in front of Eulalie.

"Ella, apologize to Diego right now! Tell him you didn’t mean it! Say it!" His fingers dug into my arm, his grip tight and unyielding.

"And you have to promise Eulalie that you’ll treat the children as your own from now on. You must never lay a hand on them again!"