In the fifteenth year of our marriage, Tiffany was finally pregnant. But the joy I had expected never came; she merely offered a hollow smile as if the news barely touched her.

And then, I saw it.

A photo of Peter pressing a kiss to her swollen belly, his face glowing with joy. Tiffany’s expression, one of pure, unfiltered happiness, said everything I needed to know. She had long since given birth to someone else’s child.

And my Levi? In her eyes, he had been nothing more than an unfortunate inconvenience, something she had been desperate to cut away.

No wonder that every year on Levi’s birthday, she always had some excuse, urgent business trips or overseas meetings.

Because Levi’s birthday was only three days apart from their child’s, she had to leave early, making sure everything was perfect for them, terrified that her precious family would feel neglected.

I shut the webpage, my heart numb, my mind made up.

I called my childhood friend overseas.

“I’ll take the job as a jewelry appraiser at your company. I’ll see you in three days.”

And before hanging up, I asked him for a favor.

After finishing everything, I stepped into Levi’s room. The layout remained untouched, frozen in time. His pillow still carried that faint, milky scent unique to children. But Levi… Levi would never return.

Under his pillow, I found a small wishing bottle. Inside was a folded slip of paper, his birthday wish, written with the help of his teacher.

"The teacher said a man must be brave, so this year, I finally mustered the courage to tell Mommy I wanted a birthday present. But before I could even finish, Mommy got angry and walked away."

"Actually, all I wanted was for Mommy to spend an hour with me on my birthday. Even just thirty minutes would make me so, so happy."

A sharp ache tore through my chest. Tears blurred my vision, falling uncontrollably.

‘Tiffany, is this what you call ambition?!’

That night, I printed out the divorce papers. Then, clutching Levi’s blanket, I buried my face in it, inhaling the last traces of his scent, his warmth and cried until dawn.

The next day, despite her usual obsession with cleanliness, Tiffany did something unthinkable. She sat beside me, silently tending to my wounds, carefully changing the bandages, her touch uncharacteristically gentle as she wrapped them in fresh gauze.

The housekeeper stood beside us, her eyes brimming with envy, but my heart had long turned to ash.

She took one look at my swollen, bloodshot eyes and sighed, sorrow weighing heavy in her gaze.

"Joseph, I know you miss Levi. I miss him even more, but you need to take care of yourself. I’ve already lost the child I love most. I can’t lose you too. Why don’t you rest at home today? Let me handle Levi’s funeral."

Let you? Let you, the murderer who killed your own son, take care of it?

I swallowed the bitter mockery pressing against my tongue and replied coolly, "No need. I have to send Levi off myself."

At the funeral, from a distance, I spotted Peter and a teenage boy standing beside my mother-in-law. They flanked her on either side, their voices light, their smiles easy. She laughed, her joy untouched by grief, as if she were at a casual gathering, not at my son’s funeral.

On such a solemn occasion, where mourning cloaked everyone in black, Peter and that boy arrived in striking red suits, standing out like a mockery of grief.

And yet, my mother-in-law didn’t bat an eye. She clung to them, her gaze brimming with affection as if they were the only family she recognized.

Worried they might be too warm, she even had the servants hold umbrellas over them, treating them like treasured kin as if they were her true son-in-law and grandson.

Peter’s gaze flicked to me, his lips curving into a smirk. With a voice dripping with mockery, he turned to her.

“Auntie, I’m not hot. Joseph is here now and the sun is scorching. Why not give him the umbrella instead? Unlike me, he lost his child and got himself injured. He needs all the care he can get.”

At his words, my mother-in-law twisted toward me, her face curling in open disgust.

"It’s just a useless brat who died; what’s the big deal? And what’s with that pitiful look? Who are you performing for? Stop disgracing the family with this pathetic act."

She huffed, her gaze flicking back to Peter and the boy with unmistakable fondness.

"Even Peter and Gabriel are more considerate than you. They flew in straight from abroad, worrying I’d be too tired. They even brought me an expensive diamond bracelet. They're a thousand times better than you, a worthless bastard."

She had always looked down on me, convinced I wasn’t good enough for Tiffany. And when a decade passed without a child, she never let me forget it, mocking me, calling me useless.

After Levi was born, she began to resent him for always siding with me, convinced that his loyalty was nothing but ingratitude and betrayal.

There was a time when Tiffany would at least defend me now and then, but those days were long gone. Now, her eyes were locked on Peter, admiration gleaming in her gaze as if he were some priceless treasure.

Peter met my stare with a subtle, taunting smirk before turning to support my mother-in-law, his voice laced with false concern.

"Auntie, you’re getting older; you shouldn’t let things upset you. If it pleases you, Gabriel can be your grandson from now on."

Her face lit up with joy, showering him with endless praise, as if he were the most considerate man in the world.

Peter then guided the young man toward me, a bright, insincere smile on his face.

"Long time no see, Joseph. My condolences. We just got back from abroad and didn’t have time to change, but you’re a magnanimous man; I’m sure you won’t mind, right?"

He paused briefly, then added with casual ease, "Oh, by the way, this is my son, Gabriel."

Gabriel carried a striking resemblance to Tiffany, at least fifty or sixty percent. His gaze swept over me with open disdain before he sneered, his voice laced with arrogance.

"Uncle, you’re really ugly."

Then, as if I were nothing more than an invisible speck, he reached out to Tiffany with effortless familiarity, completely disregarding my presence.

"Mom, didn’t you promise that when Dad and I came back, you’d have presents for us? My eighteenth birthday is in two days. Last year, you only gave me ninety-nine gifts, so this year, I want a hundred."

Tiffany didn’t so much as acknowledge the insult he had just thrown at me. Instead, she let out a soft sigh before gently patting his head, her touch filled with indulgence.

"I know."

With careful hands, she took out a longevity lock and fastened it around Gabriel’s neck, her gaze brimming with motherly affection.

As if that wasn’t enough, she snapped her fingers. Outside the funeral home, the deep rumble of engines filled the air as more than ten brightly colored sports cars pulled up in perfect formation.

"Here, Mommy knows you love bright colors. These are all yours."

Peter wrinkled his nose, clinging to Tiffany’s arm like a spoiled child. "Tiffany, what about me? You can’t just spoil our son and forget about me!"

Tiffany playfully tapped his nose, her voice dripping with amusement. "Of course, I didn’t forget about you."

The moment her words fell, doors swung open. From each car, two attendants stepped out, their arms laden with over thirty sets of luxury jewelry and watches. The collection was an opulent display, different styles, rare materials, intricate designs, but they all had one thing in common: extravagance beyond imagination.

One of the rings had even graced the hand of a royal prince from a kingdom.

Peter kissed Tiffany’s cheek, his boyish grin brimming with excitement.

"Wow! Aren’t these the pieces from that European royal auction the other day? Even the cheapest one was worth over a billion. You bought them all for me? Tiffany, you really spoil us. But spending so much money… Joseph won’t get mad, will he?"

Levi’s funeral had been reduced to nothing more than a grand showcase of wealth, a parade of luxury cars and priceless jewels, completely eclipsing the reason we were even here.

Unshaven, dressed in an outdated black suit, my eyes swollen like walnuts, I stood in sharp contrast to Peter, impeccably groomed, glowing with effortless charm.

And to think, the gifts Tiffany had given Levi over the years didn’t even amount to a fraction of one of Gabriel’s sports cars.

Ridiculous. Truly ridiculous.

Only then did Tiffany seem to remember I existed. She cleared her throat, her tone awkward as she fumbled for an explanation.

"Joseph, don’t take this the wrong way. Peter and Gabriel are just used to customs abroad; this was simply a gesture of courtesy."

"You heard just now that Mom has recognized Gabriel as her grandson. It’s only natural for him to call me Mom. His birthday is coming up and I just wanted to do something nice for him. As for the longevity lock, it’s just…"

Before she could finish, Peter suddenly staggered, his body lurching forward as he collapsed into her arms, his voice frail and pitiful.

"Tiffany… my head… everything’s spinning… I think I might have heatstroke…"

Tiffany instantly abandoned me, rushing to steady him, her face etched with worry.

"How did this happen? I had an entire summer villa built just for you so you wouldn’t suffer in the heat. You could’ve rested there, but no, you insisted on coming to this dreadful place. Come on, I’ll take you somewhere to rest."

Without a second glance, she left with Peter, unconcerned that Levi’s ashes remained unburied.

I bore the silent mockery of those around me, their whispers a dull hum against the weight in my hands. Alone, I cradled Levi’s urn.

“It’s okay, baby. Even if your mother doesn’t love you, you still have your father.”

But before I could lay him to rest, Gabriel rammed into me, sending me sprawling. The urn slipped from my grip, shattering against the cold earth. Levi’s ashes were scattered, swept away by the wind.

"Uncle, are you blind? How could you run into me?" Gabriel scoffed, dusting off his pristine outfit. "Do you even know how much this limited-edition suit costs? My mom bought it for me. If that short-lived ghost’s ashes got on me, could you even afford to compensate me? What bad luck."

He showed no remorse. Instead, he smirked and pulled out a plastic water bottle filled with cigarette butts, shaking it playfully.

"Uncle, don’t say I don’t pity you. Here, use this to hold your son’s ashes."

I had no energy to argue. I just wanted a new urn; I had to protect what remained of Levi.

But before I could speak, my mother-in-law shot me a look of utter disdain and scoffed.

"What are you staring at? If you weren’t so useless, would the urn have broken? I think the plastic bottle is just fine. Don’t even think about making me waste money on an ungrateful brat. Just hurry up and bury him already. I still have to play cards."

Gabriel kicked me aside like discarded trash. Without hesitation, he ordered someone to scoop up Levi’s ashes into the filthy plastic bottle. Then, without a shred of reverence, he tossed it into the grave and sealed it shut.

My fists clenched so tightly they ached. Rage burned through me. How could they do this to Levi?

I turned, searching for Tiffany, desperate to make her see reason, only to freeze at the sight before me.

In the very hall meant to mourn, Levi, Tiffany and Peter were tangled together, their clothes askew, hands roaming as if oblivious to the world around them.

"Tiffany," Peter murmured, his voice thick with desire, "Gabriel is grown now. He must feel lonely. I want you to give me another child."

Tiffany hesitated, her lips parting slightly. "Peter, all these years, you had to hide Levi, raising him in secret to keep your wife from finding out. I’ve already made you and your son suffer enough. How can I bring you more trouble? Besides, this is Levi’s mourning hall. We can’t…"

Peter reached for her, his touch slow, deliberate, his voice a whisper of temptation.

"Tiffany, for you, I’d endure any hardship. She’s barely home. She won’t find out."

Her breath hitched. A flicker of hesitation crossed her face before Peter leaned in, his words dripping with allure.

"I’ve never done it in a mourning hall before. Don’t you want to try? You’ve been exhausted these past few days… Let me take care of you."

A muscle in Tiffany’s temple twitched. She wavered, then gave in. Lowering her head, she kissed him.

The scene before me grew more unbearable by the second. My hands trembled as I recorded every sordid detail, then turned and bolted, my legs giving out the moment I reached Levi’s tombstone.

I collapsed, my body wracked with shivers. My vision blurred with unshed tears as I stared at the gravestone, my heart twisting in agony.

Tiffany… Levi’s picture was right above you! How could you?!

The crowd had long since scattered, their whispers fading into nothingness. No one cared about me. No one cared about Levi.

I burned paper money in silence, watching the flames curl around the fragile bills. My tears fell freely, soaking into the cold earth beneath me. More than a decade of marriage was reduced to nothing but a cruel joke.

A sudden force sent the brazier flying, embers scattering across my hand. Pain seared through my skin, snapping me back to reality.

I lifted my head and there he was, Peter, grinning like a man who had just won everything.

"Joseph, did you enjoy the show?" His voice dripped with mockery. "Watching Tiffany and me have our fun right in front of your son's grave… Must’ve been quite the sight, huh?"

The smirk on his face deepened. "Burn all the paper money you want. That short-lived brat of yours isn’t coming back."

My fingers curled into fists, but Peter leaned in, voice dropping into something venomous.

"If you had just stayed infertile, I wouldn’t have even bothered with you. But you actually dared to have a child with Tiffany? Let me make one thing clear: no one is taking even a single cent from my son."

"The Timmerman Family’s wealth belongs to us. Tiffany loves me the most. To prove it, she was even willing to get rid of your son just to put my mind at ease. And you? A man reduced to this… What a disgrace. If I were you, I’d bash my head in and end it all."

Something inside me snapped. I lunged to my feet, my hand swinging up, ready to strike.

But before I could even react, Peter suddenly tumbled backward, his body crashing down the stone steps.

In the next second, a powerful hand shoved me aside and caught him.