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."