Emily had security throw me out.

My belongings were dumped at the company entrance like a pile of trash.

I was on my hands and knees, picking them up like some kind of beggar.

Leo ran over to help. His voice was full of pity.

"Mr. Kirkwood… everyone knows how much Ms. Stanton cares about her husband. That's why no one said anything. Someone as hard as her—her private Instagram is nothing but pictures of him and their kid."

"Private Instagram?"

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

Leo handed me his phone.

That was when I learned the truth. Emily had made Ryan public long ago. He was her husband—officially, openly.

The Instagram account she had shared with me was a dead sea. Just her "work profile."

I don't remember how I got home. I was in a fog.

At the villa, the staff was running around, moving my things out of the bedroom.

I frowned and stopped them. "What's going on? Why are you moving my stuff?"

They stammered, eyes darting sideways.

"I told them to."

I turned around. Emily was walking in with Ryan on her arm.

"Ryan got hurt. Your room faces south, best light in the house. It's perfect for him."

She wasn't looking at me. She was focused on straightening Ryan's collar, her fingers brushing gently over the small cut on his forehead.

"Didn't you tell them to move out? Fine. Ryan and Jamie live here now."

I stepped right in front of her, forcing her to look at me.

"Emily, this is our home. You promised you'd give me a home."

Her eyes flickered. She didn't say anything.

My heart felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles.

My father was a gambler. He drove my mother to her grave. Emily was the one who saved me from that house.

She was just a teenager then. Rain pouring down. She took my hand and made me a promise.

"Daniel, you don't like that home. So I'll give you one."

"Mommy, me and Daddy have nowhere to go."

Jamie's voice pulled me back. He was tugging on Emily's shirt, already crying. Ryan started sniffling too.

The softness in Emily's eyes faded. It turned to ice.

"He's just staying here. Why can't you let it go? Don't forget. I was the one who moved your mother's grave."

My eyes went wide. I heard exactly what she was threatening.

"You're using that against me?"

My voice shook. I couldn't help asking.

Ryan sensed the tension. He grabbed Emily's sleeve, all false concern.

"Emily, don't fight with him because of me. This is your home. He's right not to want me here."

"Home?" Emily laughed. It was cold.

"He doesn't have a home."

My skull rang like a bell.

I had followed her all the way to Seacrest, a thousand miles from anywhere I'd ever known. And now she was telling me I was homeless.

She took Ryan's hand and brushed past me.

"Ryan, I ordered you some suits. All new season. Want to see them?"

She kept going. "The manager position opened up. Take it if you want it."

Jamie ran after them. A perfect little family.

And then there was me. The extra. The outsider.

My nails dug into my palms.

Right then, I finally understood. The girl I loved—she was gone.

My fingers hovered over Stanton Industries' confidential files.

Then I clicked Send.

I didn't stay at the house. That place didn't belong to me anymore.

The staff had started calling Ryan "Sir."

He left Emily's lace underwear on the guest room floor like a trophy. I could hear them through the walls—their noise, their passion. Everything they had.

When I walked out, the maids were already gossiping.

"Daniel is such a joke. No marriage license, not even a wedding photo on the wall."

"Please. He's been coasting on that sad backstory for years. I'm so over it."

"We've sent Ryan so many gifts behind his back. He's the only one who didn't know."

"No license, and those kids are both dead. I overheard Ms. Stanton saying she's going to kick him out with nothing."

Nothing?

We'll see who ends up with nothing.

…

The next day, I went out just to clear my head. I'd been so buried in the company for so long, I'd forgotten what the street looked like.

I was about to search for a place to eat when someone ripped the phone from my hand and smashed it on the pavement.

"You bastard. Finally found you."

My eyes blew wide. A fear I thought I'd buried rose up in my throat. I stepped back.

"Winston. What are you doing here? This is Seacrest. Don't try anything."

My father, Winston Kirkwood, spat on the ground, lunged forward, and grabbed me by the hair.

"You think Emily's still coming to save you? Guess who told me where you were? I hear she never even married you. So what—you're her side piece now?"

He dragged out the word "side piece." People on the street turned to stare.

"That's not true!" I shouted.

Winston slapped me across the face.

"I don't give a damn what you are. Your old man's broke. Give me money."

The crowd gasped. Someone started to step forward to help.

Then Ryan walked up, phone already recording.

"Everyone, look! This is my wife's loverboy and his father! Yesterday, he tried to have me thrown out of my wife's company. Just as shameless as his father."

The people who had been about to help stopped. Their sympathetic looks turned into disdain.

"He even wanted my wife to kick me and my son out. I can't believe he had the nerve."

Ryan lifted his bangs, showing off the small cut on his forehead. His eyes went wet.

"He did this too."

Then he shoved the phone in my face and smiled.

"Take a look at what everyone's saying about you in the livestream."

The comments scrolled past in a blur. "Gold digger." "Trash." "Homewrecker." Every word cut.

Winston stood back, enjoying the show. Ryan grabbed my chin.

"Your mother's grave. Your kid's grave. They're both out on the east end, aren't they?"

My heart tightened instantly.

"What are you going to do?"

He smiled like it was nothing.

"Get on your knees. Slap yourself three times. Say you're a shameless homewrecker. Then I won't do anything."

My fists clenched. My teeth ground together.

Ryan pulled up photos on his phone. The graves. My mother's. My son's.

"Your father doesn't want you. Emily doesn't love you anymore. Those two—they're the only ones who ever gave a damn about you, right?"

My mother's last smile. My baby's wrinkled little face. They flashed through my mind.

I didn't think anymore. I dropped to my knees in the middle of the street.

My hand shook as I slapped myself.

"I'm… a shameless homewrecker…"

The crowd's whispers scraped against my ears. Ryan laughed and pushed the camera into my face.

When I finally stood up, my eyes met Emily's through the crowd.

She had been watching the whole time.

I lost it. I screamed at her. Why? Why?

She just pushed me off. Like I was nothing. Like I didn't matter.

"Oh, relax. Ryan was just having a little fun."

Then sirens ripped through everything.

A team of officers rushed in and cuffed Emily's wrists.

"Ms. Stanton, you're under arrest for trafficking illegal pharmaceuticals."