The moment she heard her name, Maya froze, her hand still reaching into the flames for the photo album.

To cover the awkward silence, she snapped at Hannah, "Shut up! Is that any way to speak to your father? You’re an adult now, can’t you watch your mouth?"

Realizing she had gone too far, Hannah shot me a scornful glance, then followed her mother’s lead, reaching into the fire to salvage the mistake booklets.

But she still muttered under her breath, loud enough for me to hear, "Good thing I got here in time. If you’d burned all of them, what would my godfather show on TV? Seriously, what’s wrong with you?"

Maya clutched the photo album, scorched and warped beyond recognition, then pressed her fingers to her temples, her voice heavy with frustration.

"Weren’t these photos what you cherished the most? Now they’re ruined. You’ll only feel worse later. What are you even trying to prove?"

I stood there, motionless, watching the two of them frantically dig through ashes for things that no longer mattered to me.

All I had burned were objects. What they had destroyed was me.

I ignored their frantic attempts to save what little remained from the fire and turned away, retrieving the divorce papers I had already signed.

"Sign them. We’re done here."

Maya stared at the agreement, then looked up at me, disbelief written all over her face.

"Just because I gave Ivy a godfather? Dylan, have you lost your mind?"

"No. It’s because you and your daughter made me realize that twenty years of effort meant absolutely nothing."

I pointed at the fireplace, my smile cold and bitter. "Just like those ashes."

Hannah stormed up to me, her eyes burning with anger.

"Dylan, can you stop being so selfish? When I was drowning in pressure and wanted to end everything, it was Uncle Alexander who helped me through. What right do you have to be mad?"

The daughter I had poured every ounce of love and energy into now looked at me with hatred, refusing even to call me “Dad.”

And the so-called “guidance” she spoke of?

It was nothing more than Alexander secretly giving her a phone and staying up all night gaming with her behind my back.

If the teacher hadn’t pulled me aside to ask why Hannah was falling asleep in class every day, I would’ve never known that, so close to the college entrance exam, she had been sneaking around like that.

In response, I took her to see a psychologist. I cooked her favorite meals every night. I tried everything, anything, to lift her spirits.

But no matter how much I gave, I still couldn’t compete with Alexander’s fleeting two-month presence.

"You’re right. I don’t deserve to be your father."

"So from now on, I’m not."

I turned away and walked toward the bedroom to pack my things.

Behind me, Maya tore the divorce papers into shreds.

Later that night, after showering, she climbed into bed and wrapped her arms tightly around me from behind, her breath warm against my neck.

"Dylan, please… don’t do this…"

But even after bathing, her skin still carried the lingering scent of smoke.

Tobacco, his brand.

My stomach turned. I shoved her away without hesitation.

"Don’t touch me!"

Caught off guard, she tumbled off the bed, her expression shifting instantly into a cold scowl.

"Dylan, are you trying to ruin everything?"

I sneered, lifted my phone, and snapped a photo of the fresh red marks scattered across her back.

"You really think there’s anything left worth saving?"

In the photo, three bold, unmistakable hickeys stood out against her skin.

Her face drained of color. She scrambled to pull on her nightgown.

"What nonsense are you spouting? They’re mosquito bites!"

I didn’t even bother calling out her lie. I just stared at her in silence.

Seeing me so quiet, her voice softened, gentle and coaxing, the way she always sounded when she wanted to maintain peace.

"Dylan, don’t be so petty. Alexander is just Ivy’s godfather. You’ll always be her real dad… no one can ever take your place."

But clearly, Alexander had already taken my place in both Maya’s heart and Hannah’s.

Seeing that I remained silent, she let out a sigh.

"How about this, if you stop causing a scene, I’ll let you join us for the TV show taping. You can enjoy some of the spotlight too."

Just as I was about to turn her down, her phone rang.

She glanced at me, hesitated for a beat, then walked into the corner to answer it.

Whatever she heard on the other end made her expression twist in rage. She stormed over and slapped me across the face.

"Dylan! How dare you!"

I staggered back, the metallic taste of blood spreading in my mouth.

"If anything happens to Alexander or his son, I swear, I’ll never forgive you!"

She spun on her heel and stormed out, the door slamming so hard it rattled the whole house. Hannah chased after her, flustered and confused.

I wiped the blood off my lips and quietly went back to packing my suitcase.

In the dead of night, my phone buzzed over and over again.

I stared at the screen, at that all-too-familiar number, took a breath, and picked up without saying a word.

On the other end came Alexander’s low, mocking chuckle. "So? Did it crush you, hearing Ivy call me ‘Dad’ with your ears?"

My fingernails dug deep into my palm, but I kept my voice steady.

"What do you want?"

"I just thought you should know that Ivy and Maya had dinner at my place earlier. They’re staying the night, so don’t wait up."

"Maya couldn’t stop praising my braised ribs. She even said they tasted better than yours. Just like me and you, heaven and earth. No matter how much she once loved you, it’s nothing compared to one smile from me."

I understood precisely what he meant.

I bit down on my lower lip until I tasted blood.

In the days that followed, neither Maya nor Hannah came home.

But through Hannah’s social media, I watched their little “family of four” flaunt their happiness online, matching family outfits at Disneyland, enjoying candlelit dinners at Michelin-starred restaurants, and laughing as if they had never known pain.

They became an overnight sensation.

Some netizens began to question.

[Wait… is he the real dad or just the godfather?]

[Is this a drama, or are they actually trying to go viral?]

Maya herself replied in the comments.

[This isn’t for show. Alexander is my daughter’s godfather. As for my ex-husband, we’re finalizing the divorce.]

When more level-headed users began questioning whether she had cheated during the marriage, Maya responded by posting the signed divorce agreement, loud and proud.

She claimed we had already agreed to part ways once our daughter entered university.

Not to be outdone, Hannah stirred the pot online, sparking a trending hashtag on Twitter.

#My biological father bribed thugs to cripple my godfather and little brother. Does a man like that deserve to be called Dad?

The internet went up in flames.

Each day, I received a flood of insults and threats.

My front door was splashed with red paint.

I didn’t even dare step outside to buy groceries.

Then Maya sent me a message.

[This is what you get for bullying Alexander and his son. If I didn’t still have a shred of sympathy for you as my ex-husband, you’d already be behind bars.]

I didn’t respond.

Instead, I forwarded my lawyer the recording of Alexander’s smug phone call that night, along with all the evidence I had quietly gathered.

On the day of the TV show taping, Maya messaged me again.

[As long as you publicly apologize to Alexander and his son, I won’t go through with the divorce. And I’ll make sure Ivy acknowledges you as her father again.]

[But… the fact that we’re still legally married can’t be revealed. Everyone already thinks Alexander and I are husband and wife.]

To tighten the noose, she even made a public statement in front of the press, saying, "My ex-husband will be attending today to give everyone a proper explanation."

The live camera swept across the crowd.

Every head turned, every neck craned, waiting to see me humiliated on national television.

At that moment, I was seated on a flight bound for another country.

Just before takeoff, I tapped once and released everything online.

The hotel check-ins were between Maya and Alexander. Bank transfers she’d made to both him and his son. And most damning of all, the paternity test.