Mariah’s POV

My words caught Viggo off guard.

He clearly hadn’t expected that response. His expression froze for a couple of seconds before his brows knit together again, his tone slipping back into that familiar “I’m doing this for your own good” voice.

“You can’t put it that way,” he said.

“The tutoring can slow down, sure. But how can you just cut everything off completely? Do you know how hard it was to get Cruella into that private school? You spent so much effort back then. Have you really forgotten?”

I didn’t respond. I just lowered my head and kept tending to the wound.

Standing beside me, Viggo watched my indifference. A flicker of irritation flashed in his eyes, quickly smothered.

“If you don’t agree,” I said flatly, “then you can explain it to your daughter yourself.”

“This was a decision you and she made together.”

He clearly froze.

He had never seen me this cold before.

In the past, no matter what he said, I’d instinctively smoothed things over for him, cleaned up his messes, never once pushed responsibility back onto him.

The displeasure crossed his face again, gone just as quickly.

As if remembering something, he suddenly reached into his briefcase, pulled out a document, and handed it to me.

“Alright, let’s drop the Cruella issue for now.”

“Oh, right. Sign this.”

He spoke casually. “A deal I just closed today. The process is a bit rushed.”

Cruella’s issue wasn’t urgent. He didn’t really believe I’d stop caring about her anyway. He just assumed I was saying things out of anger.

This so-called deal, on the other hand, mattered.

If this were before, I wouldn’t even have opened the contract.

I never interfered in his career. I just signed, transferred money, and took responsibility when things went wrong.

This time, I didn’t bother reading it either.

Because I already knew that this wasn’t a goddamn business contract at all.

It was a fucking divorce agreement dressed up as one.

Judging by his reaction, he probably hadn’t realized yet that the contents of that agreement had already been revised.

When he saw me sign, his shoulders visibly relaxed. His voice softened immediately, compliments spilling out.

“If this goes through, we’ll make a lot of money.”

“Honey, when it’s done, I’ll make it up to you. A proper wedding this time—big, formal, invite everyone.”

“You’ve always regretted not having one, haven’t you? I’ll make it up to you.”

Seven years ago, when we got married, he had nothing.

No wedding. No rings. Our parents hadn’t even formally met.

Over the years, every time he needed my support, he dangled the word wedding in front of me like bait.

And damn, I always believed him.

Even now, knowing he was divorcing me for Carmilla, when he used that familiar, practiced tactic, my chest still ached.

I blinked, forcing the bitterness down. As I handed the document back, I couldn’t stop myself from adding, “If… we got divorced—”

I didn’t even finish before he cut me off, righteous and firm.

“How could we get divorced?”

His tone was absolute. “This family can’t function without you. Neither I nor our daughter can live without you.”

“You’re the backbone of this household. Don’t overthink things.”

He sounded so certain.

Yet his words and his actions couldn’t have been more opposite.

Before I could speak again, I noticed the smile he couldn’t quite suppress.

He thought he could trick me into signing the divorce papers and leaving me with nothing.

But soon, he'll understand what it feels like to lose everything.

As if realizing something, he coughed and forced himself back into composure.

“Alright. Get some rest. I’m going to step out and make a call.”

And with that, he hurried out of the room.

He even forgot to finish applying the meds.

I bit down on self-mockery.

Not long after, my phone vibrated.

It was a message from the lawyer.

[Ma’am, the divorce agreement has officially entered the process.]

I stared at that line for a long time.

And then I laughed.

I laughed and laughed until I finally broke, collapsing onto the bed, sobbing uncontrollably.

Nine years of sincerity.

I’ll just consider myself blind, terrible at judging people.

After crying, I calmed down quickly.

Silently, I packed my belongings. I contacted the school, canceled all of Cruella’s tutoring classes, withdrew her enrollment from the private school, transferred her to a public one, and froze her allowance account.

I had never been speaking out of anger.

As for Viggo, he didn’t know yet.

In a few days, the company I brought into the marriage as a wedding gift would return, intact, to my dad’s name.

Including the house we were living in.

Everything I’d bought for this so-called family of three over the years, I sorted through it all. What could be thrown away, I threw the hell away.

When I came back again, the door was shut.

I opened it and saw Carmilla.

She was sitting on the living-room couch, sunglasses and a mask on, her suitcase beside her.

Cruella hovered around her, looking up at her like a little chick, chatting eagerly.

In the kitchen stood Viggo, hands that had never touched housework, wearing an apron, making her a late-night snack.

At the sound of the door, Carmilla removed her sunglasses and mask and smiled at me.

“Mariah! You remember me, right?”

Her tone was casual, as if nothing were wrong.

“We were roommates in college.”

“My hotel in Glendale got exposed by paparazzi. I can’t go back right now.”

“I thought about it, and you and Viggo are the only people I know here.”

She gestured around.

“This neighborhood has good privacy. I’ll just stay for a bit.”

Then, as if remembering something, she added warmly, “We’re old classmates. You won’t mind, right?”

Viggo walked out of the kitchen holding a bowl of soup.

He didn’t even look at me.

“Of course not,” he answered on my behalf. “We’re old classmates. What’s wrong with staying a few days? The house is big.”

Mariah’s POV

My nails dug deep into my palms.

The divorce wasn’t even finalized, and Viggo had already brought Carmilla into my home!

Everyone there, except little Cruella, knew exactly what a shitstorm Carmilla and I had gone through.

Back in college, that bitch spread some rumors that I wore fake crap, that I could only have this much money by screwing some old man.

She even spread rumors that I was selling myself—made a price for a night—flooding my phone with harassment messages asking if I’d fuck them.

I had always considered her a close friend, trusted that fucking snake, until I could bear it no longer and investigated, only to find all the rumors came out of her lying mouth.

Later, she broke up with Viggo to pursue her entertainment debut.

And I, completely unaware of their past, was the one Viggo chased after.

After graduation, I found out the class had labeled me the other woman. They said I stole him. That I forced Carmilla into show business. At that time, I felt unbearably fucked over.

Viggo held me then and said, “People only see what’s on the surface. We just need to live our own lives.”

Looking back now, the only dumbass was me.

In the living room, the three of them acted like I didn’t exist.

Cruella eagerly served Carmilla a bowl of soup.

When Carmilla flinched from the heat, Cruella immediately grabbed her hand, full of concern.

“Mom, I mean, Auntie, I’ll blow on it for you.”

Viggo hurried over with burn ointment.

Meanwhile, the wound on my temple was still bleeding, and not a single fucking person looked at it.

I let out a sarcastic laugh and stepped forward.

I lifted my hand and smashed that bowl of soup onto the floor.

“Sorry.”

I looked at them, my tone calm.

“This is my house. No outsiders are allowed to live here!”

Viggo and Cruella both froze.

Before the sound of the bowl finished fading, Viggo had already stepped in front of Carmilla, his tone a mixture of shock and anger.

“Have you lost your mind?!” he snapped.

Cruella snapped out of it too, rushing over and shoving me hard.

“How can you be so cruel?! Mom—I mean, Auntie Carmilla—is just staying for a few days! What is wrong with you?!”

I stumbled back, my spine slamming into the edge of the table. The pain shot through me, but it was nothing compared to the icy ache spreading through my chest.

Maybe I had swallowed too much for too long.

At that moment, I was done swallowing shit.

“Listen carefully. Both of you.”

I straightened slowly, staring at them, enunciating every damn word.

“This house is mine. If you want to let some outsider stay here, fine.”

“But then the two of you can get the hell out with her.”

The air went dead silent.

Viggo stared at me like I’d grown another head. Then he let out a furious laugh.

“What did you just say?”

“We’ve been married all these years. The house belongs to both of us. Who the hell are you to decide alone?”

“This is my home!” Cruella shrieked. “Mine and Daddy’s!”

Only then did Carmilla speak, all slow and soft, playing the saint.

“It’s okay,” she sighed lightly. “If Mariah really doesn’t want me here, I’ll leave.”

That fake, delicate retreat made me look like the villain.

I turned my gaze to Viggo, cold as ice.

“She can stay,” I said coolly. “Ten thousand a day.”

“If you don’t pay, I’ll leak her location to her fans tomorrow.”

Carmilla’s face changed instantly.

She clearly hadn’t expected me to go that far.

For a moment, Viggo hesitated, too.

But then he looked like he remembered that the divorce agreement had already been signed. It would be finalized in a few days.

In his mind, ten thousand a day, seven days—seventy thousand. Compared to a house worth tens of millions? A fucking bargain.

He discreetly squeezed Carmilla’s hand, thinking I wouldn’t notice.

Then he turned to me, his voice softening.

“I know you mind that she’s my ex.”

“But that’s all in the past.”

“Mariah, if this makes you feel better, ten thousand it is.”

“I’ll pay. Okay?”

I didn’t respond. I simply held out my phone.

“Transfer it.”

His jaw tightened, but he wired the money anyway.

The moment the payment notification chimed, I turned and walked upstairs.

The house felt filthy to me now.

Tomorrow, I’d move out.

And soon enough, it would be sold.

That night, I woke up out of habit to use the bathroom.

The space beside me was empty.

I hadn’t wanted to share a bed with him in the first place. He insisted, saying the guest room was for Carmilla, so he had to stay with me.

When he tried to touch me earlier, I shut him down.

As I passed Carmilla’s door, I stopped.

They weren’t even trying to be quiet.

Her laughter drifted out, smug and teasing.

“Being with a big star… feels different, doesn’t it?”

Viggo’s reply was low, casual.

“Of course.”

“She’s different.”

“She doesn’t have a waist as soft as yours. You’re fucking lethal.”

Carmilla chuckled.

“These few days, you’d better keep coaxing her.”

“Cruella’s still hard to handle at this age. Once she starts elementary school, it’ll be easier. Then you can dump that woman.”

Viggo answered without hesitation.

“Alright. Whatever you say.”

That’s when I finally understood.

Why the divorce agreement was signed, yet he hadn’t acted.

He was waiting for me.

Waiting for me to keep serving as their free nanny. Waiting to squeeze out whatever value I had left before discarding me.

A silent, bitter smile touched my lips.

I pulled out my phone and recorded everything.

Then I sent the file to my assistant.

[Seven days. Send this to Carmilla’s biggest rival.]

If this was the entertainment industry, you solve problems the entertainment way.

They're so smug now, so pleased with what they think is their perfect plan. But in the end, the one who will suffer won't be me, but them.

Mariah’s POV

Back in my room, I lay awake all night.

I thought about every time Viggo and I had been intimate over the years. Every single time, it was over before it even began.

I had tried initiating. Tried pleasing him. Tried warming something that always felt cold.

He always said he was just tired. That he didn’t have the energy.

Turns out it wasn’t about energy.

He just wasn’t interested in me.

I wiped the dampness from the corner of my eyes and forced them shut.

When I woke up the next morning, the house was already empty.

I didn’t bother wondering where they’d gone.

I went straight to the company under my name. I wanted everything settled cleanly.

But the moment I walked into the lobby, I saw Viggo. Beside him was Carmilla, wearing a mask. There was also Cruella, her hand held tightly between them. They were strolling through the lobby like a family.

I had never seen him look this openly triumphant.

Like a rooster showing off its prize.

All these years, everything he had, his position, his status, had come from me.

In front of me, he always had to lower his head, restrain himself, and pretend.

In front of Carmilla, he finally felt whole.

I was busy. I didn’t want to acknowledge them. I just wanted to finish my work and leave.

But Carmilla called out anyway.

“Mariah! You’re here!” She smiled. “It’s been so many years. I didn’t expect you’d still be this impressive, building a company this big with Viggo.”

In just a few sentences, she lightly brought up college, brought up dating, and casually mentioned the past.

“Back then, Viggo and I were together. Then you suddenly appeared.”

She tilted her head slightly. “Maybe… you two really were meant to be.”

“I just wasn’t lucky enough.”

In just a few sentences, she painted me as the shameless intruder.

But she misjudged her audience.

Aside from a few new hires whispering among themselves, the long-time employees, people who’d followed me for years, turned around and walked away with a blank expression.

Viggo was pleased.

He leaned in and said quietly, “Carmilla hasn’t seen the company before. I’m just showing her around.”

“Don’t overthink it.”

Cruella chimed in, too.

“Mom, don’t be jealous.”

“That’s what bitter women do.”

I didn’t look at them again.

I handed the reviewed contract to my assistant and turned to leave.

I’d just reached the end of the corridor when the floor jolted beneath my feet.

At first, it felt like a brief imbalance like an elevator misfiring.

Then the entire floor began to sway. Ceiling lights rattled violently, metal screeching.

The earthquake alert sounded.

My first instinct wasn’t to run. I turned back.

“Everyone evacuate immediately!” I shouted toward the office floor. “Follow the drill routes. Don’t push!”

The veteran employees moved almost on reflex, grabbing emergency kits, shielding one another as they headed for the stairwells.

But the new hires Viggo had brought in clearly hadn’t been trained.

They panicked, screaming and stampeding toward the exits.

“Stop running!” I tried to stabilize the chaos. “Stay against the wall! Move in order!”

But no one listened.

In the confusion, Viggo scooped up Cruella with one arm, grabbed Carmilla with the other, and bolted for the exit without looking back.

I had just taken a step when he shoved me hard.

“Move!”

I wasn’t prepared for that. I slammed into the edge of a desk. Pain tore through my lower back. Before I could steady myself, another desk was knocked over by the crowd and crashed down on my leg.

I let out a muffled groan. I was trapped in place!

Above us, a ceiling light broke free, falling straight toward Carmilla.

“Carmilla!”

Viggo reacted on instinct.

He released Cruella and lunged forward, throwing his body over Carmilla.

The light fixture smashed into his back. Blood soaked through his shirt almost instantly.

But he didn’t make a sound. He only held Carmilla tightly and said in a rushed, hoarse voice, “It’s okay. Don’t be afraid.”

Cruella, left behind when he let go and left her where she stood.

She fell to the ground, her face pale, crying without sound. Her limbs were weak; she couldn’t even stand up.

I saw her. No matter what, she was still the child I gave birth to.

My leg was pinned. My back throbbed so badly I could barely breathe. But I still clenched my teeth and dragged myself over.

“Cruella… don’t be scared.”

Panting, I pulled her into my arms. “Hold onto me.”

I dragged her toward the exit inch by inch. Dust and debris kept raining down. My throat burned from the air.

Thankfully, the shaking eased quickly.

Rescue staff rushed in and lifted the desk off my leg.

I had just steadied myself and hadn’t even had time to breathe in relief when Cruella suddenly shoved me away.

“Don’t touch me!”