“What the hell is the meaning of this!?” Jaxon’s voice crashed through the room like a blade, sharp enough to cut through the silence.

He stormed inside with Candice tailing behind him, pretending to be terrified, her eyes glossy, chin trembling, hands folded together like she was the victim.

I didn’t flinch. Not anymore.

“I asked you a question,” he barked, slamming his palm onto the long mahogany table. “Why did you fire Candice? And why the hell am I being removed from all meetings?”

I rose slowly from my seat, back straight, fingers laced calmly in front of me.

“I fired her,” I said evenly, “because she’s incompetent, unnecessary, and only got hired because you insisted I should give her a chance. And as for the meetings…” I tilted my head. “I simply don’t feel like giving everything to you anymore.”

Jaxon blinked, stunned for half a second—but recovered with anger. “So you make decisions like this without discussing it with me?”

“I don’t need to discuss anything with you,” I answered. “This is my company. I’m the owner.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “That doesn’t mean you get to—”

I cut him off, stepping closer. “You’ve handled enough. And badly.”

Candice whimpered behind him. “Ma’am… if I did something wrong, please let me expla—”

“Stay out of this,” I snapped. Her lips trembled.

Jaxon took a threatening step forward. “Ysobel, you’re being irrational. You can’t just fire people out of spite!”

“Spite?” My laugh came out cold. “You think this is spite? After all the mess you’ve created?”

His nostrils flared. “This is nonsense! I am your husband!”

My voice sharpened. “What’s nonsense is how you still think you can control me just because you are my husband.”

For a moment—just one—fear flickered in his eyes. Because he knew. He knew I was slipping out of his grasp.

“You’re not firing her!” he shouted. “I said NO!”

My voice was icy. “I already did. Effective immediately.”

He slapped the wall beside my head, close enough for the air to sting. “You’re pushing me too far, Ysobel.”

I met his eyes without blinking. “Good.”

His breath hitched. He realized something had changed. Something he couldn’t undo.

Finally, he exhaled sharply and stepped back, forcing his expression into something softer, something resembling resignation.

“Fine,” he muttered. “You win. We’ll… do things your way. For now.”

Candice lowered her head, pretending to wipe tears. “Ma’am… I’ll prepare my things. Thank you for everything and I’m sorry if I ever do something to make you mad.”

I ignored her.

Jaxon placed a hand on my shoulder, voice suddenly gentle—too gentle. “Let’s calm down and deal with this later, okay? For now… I’ll accept your decision.”

But something was off. He was agreeing too quickly. And that terrified me more than his anger.

An hour later, I left my office… only to freeze behind the hallway corner.

I inched closer.

Candice’s voice was sharp. “So what now? I lost my job. You let her win—again? How can you just agree?”

Jaxon sighed. “Calm down. I can’t argue with her knowing I still don’t have full control of the company. I need to be on her good side, so we should just play along until everything is finalized. You know that!”

Candice’s breath hitched. “Play along? How much longer?”

“As long as needed.” His tone dropped into something cold, calculating. “Listen. She’s firing you because she wants to feel in control. So let her. We’ll follow her plan for now.”

A pause.

“Because on her birthday,” he continued, voice dipped in venom, “we end it. No more investors. No more pretending. Her life ends that night, and then everything becomes ours.”

Candice gasped softly. “Are you sure?”

“Especially since you’re pregnant with our baby,” Jaxon replied. “I won’t let her hurt you or our child again.”

My lungs froze. It felt like my soul detached itself from my body and watched my life crumble piece by piece.

He wasn’t just using me. He wasn’t just cheating on me. He was plotting to kill me on my birthday.

I backed away quietly, swallowing a scream. My hands shook violently. I pressed them to my chest, forcing myself to breathe. Not now. Not here.

I have to stay alive. I have to act normal. I have to win.

When I returned to my suite that evening, Jaxon was waiting on the couch, his expression soft, almost affectionate.

I nearly laughed.

“There you are,” he said with a relieved exhale, standing up. “We need to talk.”

I didn't sit. “About what?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “About Candice’s situation. You fired her… so I was thinking.”

I braced myself. He smiled—gentle, understanding, supportive. The same smile that once made me fall for him.

The same smile he used right before betraying me every time.

“…we can hire her as our maid,” he said.

My heart stopped.

“Our… what?” I whispered.

“She needs income,” he continued easily, as if discussing the weather. “And since you trust her less now, this way you can still see what she’s doing. And I can help her. It’s a win-win. You know she is a close friend with no relatives and I can’t just let her be alone with nothing.”

Win-win. For him and his mistress.

“Absolutely not,” I said immediately, my voice sharp. “I fired her. She’s not stepping foot in this house again.”

His smile faltered. “Ysobel—”

“No.” I turned away before the trembling in my chest could turn into screaming. “I’m tired, Jaxon. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Come on,” he called softly, following me as I headed to the bedroom. “You don’t have to be so emotional—”

“Goodnight,” I said, shutting the door before I could say something that would expose how much I knew… how much danger I was in.

I pressed my back against the door, exhaling shakily.

They wanted me dead on my birthday and now he wanted his mistress living in my house.

Over my dead body.

But the next morning, when sunlight hit my face and sleep loosened its grip—I sensed it immediately.

Someone else was in the room.

I shot up and froze.

Candice was kneeling beside my dresser, wiping it with a cloth, humming softly like she belonged there. She wore an apron. Hair tied. Head down.

She looked up with a smile that trembled. “Good morning, Ma’am.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh!” She stood quickly, bowing her head. “Jaxon told me you changed your mind and agreed to let me stay… as the maid.”

My blood turned to ice. “That’s a lie. I didn’t agree to anything.”

She wrung her hands nervously, eyes glossy with fake tears. “Ma’am, please… please let me stay. I need this job. I can do everything, I promise. I’m not picky. I can cook, clean, wash, iron, sew—anything. I just need somewhere to stay… even if you make me sleep in the storage room.”

I clenched my jaw. She was performing. Every trembling word is a calculated move.

“Get out,” I said coldly. “Before I change my mind about letting you walk out of this house.”

She flinched. “Please… give me a chance. I’ll show you!”

She darted forward, grabbing a glass spray bottle and a rag. “See? I clean very well. Look—look how shiny I can make it.”

She wiped the table too aggressively, desperate to prove her worth, moving with frantic energy. Then she rushed toward the shelf where my mother’s porcelain urn stood—a delicate hand-carved piece, white with gold trimming, the most precious thing I owned.

My breath hitched. “Don’t touch—”

“I can clean everything!” she insisted, dusting around it. “I’m very careful, Ma’am. I can—”

Her elbow hit it. The urn shook. Time slowed.

“Candice, stop—!”

But it was too late.

The urn teetered.

It fell.

It shattered on the floor.

Porcelain exploded into pieces.

And the ashes—my mother’s ashes—scattered across the marble like gray snow.

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

My mother’s ashes—her last remains—were scattered across the floor, clinging to the fragments of the shattered urn. My hands trembled violently as I crouched down, fingers hovering over the gray dust like touching it would break me even more.

Candice gasped, covering her mouth as if she truly cared. “Ma’am—I—I didn’t mean—”

Something snapped inside me. I stood so fast she stumbled backward.

“You—” My voice broke into something unrecognizable. “You destroyed her. My mother—MY MOTHER!”

I slapped her. The sound cracked through the room, sharp and vicious.

Candice staggered, eyes wide, hand flying to her cheek. “Ma’am—please—”

I slapped her again. Harder. “Do you know what you’ve done? Do you have any idea—”

She tried to back away, but I grabbed her arm, shaking. “Those ashes were all I had left of her!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” she cried, sobbing in a panic. “It slipped—I didn’t—”

“You don’t get to touch anything in this house! You don’t get to breathe near her memory!” Another slap landed before I could stop myself. “You will pay for this, Candice. You will—”

“What the hell is going on?!”

Jaxon’s voice tore through the room.

I turned, breathing hard, tears hot on my face. He stood in the doorway—eyes widening at the broken urn, the ashes, at Candice shaking with reddened cheeks.

“Ysobel,” he said slowly, dangerously, “did you just… hit her?”

“She destroyed my mother’s ashes!” I sobbed. “She broke the urn!”

Candice threw herself toward him. “I didn’t mean to! I was cleaning and it slipped. I’m sorry, Jax—she kept hitting me—I couldn’t stop her—”

His eyes darkened toward me. Not her.

"Ysobel, why would you hurt someone? Can you not just talk nicely?"

I stared at him. “She broke my mother’s ashes—she was cleaning something I told her not to touch—she—”

“Candice is important to me and you know that!! And you think you can just hit her just because of the urn? That’s just ashes and your mother is dead no matter what happens!”

I froze and then he realized what he just said. But before he could say another word, I already left.

The next morning, Jaxon acted like nothing happened.

He entered the dining room with a soft smile, sitting beside me as though he hadn’t slapped me bloody the night before.

“Good morning,” he murmured, brushing a hand through my hair. “About last night… let’s not dwell on it. We’re both stressed. I’m sorry and Candice will say sorry about it. I can just buy you a new urn.”

My body stiffened at his touch, but I didn’t move.

He poured juice for me. “Your birthday is approaching. I’m planning a little party. Something intimate. Just close people. I want this year to be special.”

I forced a tight smile. “Whatever you think is best.”

“Good,” he said, kissing my temple. “I want us to feel… normal again.”

I didn’t believe a word.

Candice walked in carrying a tray. She avoided my eyes. Her movements were strangely stiff.

As she placed the tray down, her foot slid on a wet patch on the marble floor.

She shrieked—“Ah!”

The tray crashed.

Jaxon rushed toward her instantly. “Candice! Are you hurt?”

She clung to him dramatically. “My ankle—oh God—does it look swollen? I think I slipped because the floor wasn’t dried… did the maid clean it? Or maybe—maybe Ysobel—”

Jaxon’s head snapped toward me.

I almost laughed. “Are you seriously suggesting I wet the floor for you?”

Candice sniffled. “I… I didn’t say that… I just… I don’t know…”

He glared at me as if it were possible. “We’re going to the hospital. Now.”

He scooped her up and carried her out of the room like she was made of glass.

Leaving me alone at the dining table.

I stared at my plate and started eating as I didn’t want to waste my time on them. Whatever they want to do, it’s up to me.

So I picked up my fork.

One bite. Two. On the third bite—

My throat burned.

I coughed once. Twice. Then the burning spread like fire through my chest. My heart slammed against my ribs.

I grabbed the edge of the table.

“What—what did she—”

My vision doubled. My lungs tightened like someone was squeezing them shut.

The room tilted.

I tried to call the maid, but my voice was a rasp. She rushed in, eyes widening in panic. “Ma’am—are you alright? Oh my God—what happened?”

I pointed weakly to the food. “W-who… made this?”

She froze. “C–Candice did, Ma’am. I—I only served it—”

The world spun violently.

I could feel myself slipping away.

Before it all went dark, I had just enough strength to call my best friend Levi.

When I opened my eyes again, I was inside the hospital. Levi sat by my bedside, eyes swollen, fists clenched. The moment he saw me awake, he exhaled shakily.

“You scared me to death,” he whispered.

“What… happened?” My throat hurt to speak.

His face crumpled. “You were poisoned, Ysobel.”

Tears burned my eyes. My hands instinctively went to my stomach.

Levi swallowed hard. His voice broke. “Ysobel… you lost the baby.”

A quiet, hollow sob escaped me. The pain was too deep to scream. Too sharp to hold.

Levi pulled me into his arms gently. “It will be okay… I’m here. You can have another one someday—when you’re with the right man. Someone who deserves you.”

I cried until I had no breath left. When my sobs finally faded, Levi brushed my hair away and said softly,

“Your father called. He demanded you go home. I think it’s also time for you to go back to him, Ysobel.”