“Mom, I’ll head home first. Your dad’s waiting for me to cook dinner.”

She patted my hand, turned, and walked out.

I chased her to the door, card in hand, but it slammed shut, trapping me inside.

The bank card in my hand felt like fire, searing every nerve in my body.

I want a divorce!

But I couldn’t tell her that. I couldn’t tell my parents that all their years of unwavering love meant nothing in Daniel Carter’s eyes.

And among those worthless people was me…

That night, Daniel didn’t come home, and I didn’t return to the master bedroom.

I held my son, curled in his crib, and stayed awake until dawn.

At sunrise, I rose to prepare breakfast.

Daniel opened the door and walked in, his eyes scanning the room.

Not seeing our child, he sat down at the table.

He drummed his fingers and called out, “Shall we talk?”

My eyes flicked to the bright red stain on his collar, and I sat across from him.

He cleared his throat, pulled two documents from his bag, and shoved them toward me.

One was a divorce agreement. The other, a private settlement from yesterday.

“Since you saw everything, I won’t hide it anymore.”

“Her name is Natalie Brooks. We’ve known each other a while.”

“I wasn’t planning to divorce you, but she’s pregnant with my child, and the doctor said… her health isn’t fit for an abortion.”

Natalie Brooks?

My hand froze on the divorce papers. I stared at Daniel in shock.

I’d only heard that name at the police station two days ago.

Thinking back to yesterday, it all clicked, absurd as it was.

Daniel let the woman who killed his father carry his baby?

Seeing my silence, Daniel’s voice softened, almost pleading.

“Emily, she’s only twenty-two. Please, let her go—for the sake of our sixteen years together.”

“If you’ll sign this settlement, I’ll give you the house and the car in my name.”

“And we raised the compensation to a hundred thousand.”

It was laughable. We’d been together sixteen years, and this was the first time he humbled himself to me—over the woman who killed his father.

I picked up the divorce agreement, flipped through it, and held out my hand.

He thought I agreed. His face lit up. He quickly pulled a pen from his bag and pressed it into my palm.

I signed and pushed both agreements back.

“I’ll agree to the divorce. But the private settlement—I don’t have the authority to sign.”

I was being truthful.

But Daniel heard only defiance.

He leaned back, faced dark, chest heaving, then hurled the pen at me.

“Emily Carter, I’m being civil because of our past. Don’t think I’m begging.”

“That was your father. If you don’t have the right, who does?”

“The truth is, you just won’t let Natalie go. You’re cruel. Your whole family is cruel.”

“What did you just say?”

My fists clenched, fury boiling.

He could insult me—but why humiliate my family?

He slammed the table, stood, and leaned down until his face was inches from mine.

“I said your whole family is cruel. Your father deserved to be hit by that car!”

Slap!

I struck him across the face with everything I had.

Daniel’s head snapped to the side. After a pause, he raised his hand and seized my hair.

“Emily Carter, did I ever give you any respect?”

He was about to hit me.

Aaron ran out of the room on his little bare feet.

“Daddy, don’t hit Mommy!”

Daniel’s hand froze in mid-air. He glanced at our child, clenched his teeth, and shoved me to the floor.

“Emily Carter, you’ll regret this.”

The door slammed shut with a violent bang.

I clutched Aaron, my teeth trembling, and silently retorted.

Daniel, you’re the one who will regret this!

The video of Daniel’s father’s car accident went viral.

When his aunt came to me with the clip, her whole body shook with rage.

“Damn it! My brother died so tragically, and they’re still trying to smear him like this. Are they even human?”

I poured her a glass of water.

When I took her phone, I realized the videos online had been altered.

Unlike the version I saw at the police station, the trending clip was blurry, cut at an angle that hid him tying his shoelaces, slowed down for effect, and overlaid with captions framing him as staging a scam before a hit-and-run.

If I hadn’t seen the real surveillance, I might have believed it too.

No wonder the comments were full of venom against him. People wrote that it wasn’t just age that made him bitter—that he’d lived as a con artist and died as one.

They claimed his actions proved he was a repeat offender.

Others sneered that he must have blackmailed his children before his death—that it was the perfect ending for a “crooked old man.”

I should have been heartbroken.

But knowing Daniel twisted the truth only because the victim wasn’t his own father left me numb instead.

His aunt slapped her thigh in fury and shouted at me.

“Emily, call Daniel and make him send a lawyer’s letter. Sue those bastards right now!”

I didn’t tell her that the “bastards” she cursed were likely her nephew himself.

Before I could put the phone down, the police called.

“Mrs. Carter, I’m following up—have you decided whether to prosecute your father-in-law’s case? You said you’d discuss it with your husband. Do you have a decision?”

I wanted them to contact Daniel directly.

But before I could finish, his aunt shouted into the phone, “Sue them! You must. Arrest that woman now!”

“This is outrageous! She killed someone and still dares to smear my brother online!”

“Excuse me, ma’am, are you a family member of the deceased?”

“I’m his sister. His biological sister. Which makes me my nephew’s aunt.”

After hanging up, she grabbed my arm and dragged me straight to Daniel’s office.

His assistant, flustered, tried to block the way, but my aunt shoved him aside.

“Do you have no sense? I’m your CEO’s aunt, and she’s his wife. What right do you have to stop us? Do you want to be fired?”

Before he could answer, she threw the door open.

Daniel sat back in his executive chair, and Natalie Brooks straddled his lap, feeding him cookies mouth-to-mouth.

My aunt froze, then charged forward, yanked Natalie off him, and slapped wildly.

“You tramp! Seducing a married man?”

“Ah—Daniel, save me!”

Natalie ducked and sobbed, crying for his help.

Before my aunt’s next blow landed, Daniel seized her wrist.

“You—you dare lay a hand on her?”

“Do you even know what time it is? And you’re still fooling around at a moment like this?”

Daniel shot me a venomous glare.

He thought I’d brought his aunt here on purpose, just to catch him in the act.

“Aunt, this is my family matter. Don’t you think you’ve gone too far?”

“What did you just say?”

His aunt froze. She couldn’t believe her nephew, once so kind, would speak to her like that.

“Fine, fine—it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have meddled in someone else’s affairs.”

With that, she turned and stormed out.

I was about to follow when Daniel Carter stopped me. “Emily Carter, if it weren’t for our personal ties holding me back, I’d fight this case myself on Natalie’s behalf—and I’d crush you in court!”

I stayed quiet for a moment before asking, “Daniel, tell me—why do you treat me like your enemy now?”

He narrowed his eyes and leaned close, half his face shadowed. “Because I’ll never forget that slap.”

I nodded, nothing left to say.

Meanwhile, public opinion online was burning hotter by the day.

Fueled by the frenzy, the case went to trial within two weeks.

I didn’t hire an attorney. I sat alone in the plaintiff’s seat.

From the gallery, Daniel arched his brows at me with a smug grin. His relatives and friends shuffled in, whispering, “Why is your wife sitting as plaintiff? Shouldn’t you be the one up there?”

Ignoring their confusion, Daniel replied with cool detachment, “My firm’s lawyer is representing the defense. A company can’t put counsel on both sides of the aisle.”

His relatives gaped. “You—you're letting your own employee defend the woman who killed your father? Are you insane?”

Daniel didn’t spare them a glance.

“So what? Lawyers stand for justice. No matter how close someone is, they must pay for their crimes.”

Well rehearsed.

I sneered from across the courtroom.

I wondered if he’d still say that once the evidence played.

The judge struck his gavel, reading out the case details.

“I hereby declare the trial for the August 29th collision on Westbrook Avenue officially open. The deceased, Richard Carter—”

“Who are you talking about?”

A sharp thud broke out behind me. Daniel shot to his feet, face pale.