The pot-bellied man added, "I mean, at least you won't have to worry about not having 500 dollars in your pockets anymore. You know, a good wash and he’s still good."

The moment those words landed, the crowd burst into even louder laughter.

Someone egged him on, "Wow, Mr. Zimmerman, you're being generous! But aren't you kinda overpaying? Is three thousand really the going rate these days?"

Holding Claire in his arms, Logan joined in with the others, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

I raised my voice, unable to hold back any longer. "Claire, are you just going to let them humiliate Nancy and me like that?"

Claire looked at me without a trace of emotion, as if I were nothing more than a stranger. Only after the laughter began to die down did she finally speak, albeit rather impatiently.

"Stop embarrassing yourself, Joe. Today is my son's birthday. Take your daughter elsewhere, or I'll have security escort you out."

Nancy trembled even harder in my arms. She clutched my clothes tightly as she buried her face against my chest, too afraid to look at the hostile faces around us.

"Dad, is what they're saying true?"

Hearing the fear and disbelief in her voice, I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. After 12 years of marriage, this was what things had come to—a public humiliation in front of a room full of people.

"No, Nancy, it's not true at all."

I covered Nancy's ears, a bitter weight settling in my chest. How was I supposed to explain any of this to her?

Back when Claire had just started her business, we were squeezed into an office space no bigger than 100 square feet.

The company couldn't afford to hire staff, so I handled whatever needed to be done, from administration tasks to bookkeeping and order follow-ups.

To help her bring in clients, I swallowed my pride and reached out to every connection I had, calling in favors from friends and relatives alike.

I still remembered the day Claire landed her first major client. She was so excited that she kissed me, then used the company's first earnings to buy me a suit.

Watching how happy she was, I never told her that the client had actually been an old friend of my uncle's.

Later, after Nancy was born, the company gradually found its footing. I couldn't bear to see Claire juggling both work and the baby, so I suggested staying home to take care of our daughter.

Back then, she had made a promise. "I'm a career woman, after all. I'll take care of you and Nancy from now on."

Yet, now…

I lowered my head and looked at the T-shirt I had been wearing for three years. Claire, meanwhile, was dressed head-to-toe in designer brands. Logan stood beside her in a tailored suit.

Together, they basked in the crowd's admiration, looking perfectly matched. I, on the other hand, had been dismissed as nothing more than a housekeeper, which nobody even questioned.

"Joe, I know life hasn't been easy for you, but a child this age already understands things," Logan said. "Even if you don't care about yourself, you shouldn't put her in such an awkward position."

As he spoke, he pulled out a small stack of cash from his designer wallet and held it out to me with an air of superiority.

"I don't have that much cash on me. Look, I don't know what difficulties you're dealing with, but take this two grand for now. Get yourself a ticket back to your hometown… and maybe see a specialist while you're at it."

As he leaned in, he lowered his voice so only I could hear. "Look what's happening now, Joseph. So what if you met Claire before I did? The one who isn't loved is always the outsider."

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Logan suddenly let out a soft exclamation, his fingers loosening. The cash struck my face and scattered across the floor.

He smiled without a trace of apology, his gaze dismissive. "Sorry. It slipped."

The pot-bellied man, Mr. Zimmerman, chimed in again. "Mr. Stone is generous. That's real class right there."

Claire glanced at me indifferently, then spoke in a flat, commanding tone. "Pick it up and leave. Now."

Anger boiled over me. "You think two grand is enough to brush me off? What do you think got you those contracts when your company was just starting, huh?

"All these years, you've been spending our marital assets on him and your illegitimate son. If I choose to, I can reclaim every bit of it!"

Logan dismissed me with a laugh. "Quite a story you've put together. Hey, Joe, with that imagination of yours, why not recommend me a few of those novels you've been reading?"

Still, I knew I had clearly struck a nerve because Claire looked grim all of a sudden. She was about to berate me again when a sharp slap cut her off mid-sentence.

"Keep twisting the truth and making baseless accusations against me, and I'll take this straight to court, Claire!"

Claire stood there, momentarily stunned.

Logan reacted almost instantly, fury flashing across his face. He grabbed me by the collar, his knuckles turning white as he seethed, "How dare you lay a hand on a woman? Have you lost all sense?"

Out of the crowd's sight, in a corner where no one could see, he suddenly grabbed me by the throat. His grip tightened bit by bit. I could feel the air leaving my lungs.

Just as everything started to fade before my eyes, Claire stepped forward, putting on a show of concern. "Logan, it's not worth getting upset over someone like him. What if you end up hurting yourself?"

Only then did Logan let go. I dropped to the floor, gasping for air.

He turned to Claire, gently brushing his fingers over the faint mark I had left on her face. Right there in front of everyone, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Alright. It's Caleb's birthday today. Won't want anyone ruining our good mood."

Claire's expression softened. She slipped an arm around his waist, leaning into him as if nothing had happened.

At that moment, the lights in the hall dimmed. The projector flickered on, right on cue, and photos began to slide across the screen. They were all of Caleb, from his birth up to now.

It turned out that when Claire had claimed she was travelling abroad for six months to expand the company's business, she had actually gone away to have a child.

Caleb's birth, his first birthday, his first day at school… Every milestone was carefully recorded, with both parents there to accompany him at every moment. Meanwhile, Claire had always been absent from Nancy's life.

Nancy and Caleb were born on the same day. Since they were three years apart, it explained why she never got to see Claire again after the year he was born.

Caleb pulled a face at Nancy, his tone openly taunting. "You keep saying she's your mom. Let's see your photos, then."

Her expression fell. She turned to me and cautiously asked, "Dad, am I really not supposed to exist?"

I shook my head.

Just then, the screen shifted to a series of family photos.

Something about a few of them made me freeze. The background was an open deck, the sea stretching into the horizon, with Claire and Logan pressing their faces together in the foreground.

I remembered that cruise. It was the luxury trip I had booked for our fifth wedding anniversary. It appeared she had booked Logan a ticket as well.

Another photo appeared, taken at a famous amusement park. Claire and Logan held each other tightly, looking every bit like a family.

When my gaze landed on the date stamped on the photo, I realized it was the exact day she had supposedly been there with Nancy and me at the park.

Everything finally fell into place—why every family outing always came with a "last-minute meeting" she couldn't avoid.

The marriage I once took pride in now seemed to be full of flaws and cracks.

Before I could even recover from my shock, Caleb suddenly rushed over and slapped Nancy across the face. "Your dad hit my mom earlier, so now, I get to teach you a lesson!"

Nancy's head tilted to the side, a large red print forming on her fair face. She was taller than Caleb by a head and stubborn and competitive like most kids her age, so she instinctively wanted to fight back.

At that moment, Logan grabbed her hands and pinched her wrists, his voice sharp. "Girls should never be so aggressive! You need some manners drilled into you!"

Seeing Nancy restrained, Caleb seized the opportunity to attack her, showering her with kicks and punches. Kids had no concept of holding back. Soon, bruises appeared on Nancy's body.

Tears streamed down her pitiful face, but she stubbornly bit her lip, refusing to let even a whimper escape.

"Stop it!" I yelled, trying to pull Caleb away in a panic, but Logan held me back.

"Come on, they're just kids playing. Don't get involved. Caleb is smart enough to know his limits. It'll be fine!"

I couldn't stand it anymore. My voice came out in a desperate roar. "That's your daughter, Claire! How can you just watch her being treated like this? Do you even feel anything for her?"

All Claire did was turn her head away and avoid my gaze. Softly but cruelly, she said, "That's my son too."

At that moment, Caleb landed a heavy kick into Nancy's stomach. She doubled over in pain, her face pale.

"Nancy!" I screamed, my heart nearly stopping.

She tried to shield her stomach with her hands, but Logan pinned her in place, leaving her little chance to protect herself. In the meantime, Claire seized my arm.

Their actions only made Caleb more brazen. He raised his foot, aiming for the knee she had already scraped.

"Enough!"

I yanked my arm free from Claire, lunged forward, and pushed Caleb back, wrapping Nancy safely in my arms. She trembled in my arms, her tiny hands clutching at my shirt.

Her voice came out weakly. "Dad, it hurts so badly…"

Meanwhile, Caleb had stumbled into a nearby table when I pushed him away. He cried loudly from the shock.

Logan was heartbroken. "My boy! Hey, you! Caleb is the future heir of Gibson Group! How could you ever make it up if you hurt him?"

The sound of Caleb's wailing prompted Claire to raise a hand. "You're vicious, Joseph!"

Just as the tension reached its peak and a hand was about to strike me, a sound came from the entrance of the hall.

A middle-aged man in a black jacket walked in, radiating authority. His gaze was sharp and calm, yet commanding. A secretary carrying a briefcase followed closely behind him.

Mr. Zimmerman, who was also the vice president of Claire's company, instantly changed his expression, smiling obsequiously.

"Mr. Davidson, what an honor to have you here! Ms. Gibson, allow me to introduce you—this is Mr. Arthur Davidson, the man I've been telling you about! He was just transferred to our state this year."

Seeing the newcomer, Claire was so shocked that her face was drained of all color. "D-Dad?"

I carried the injured Nancy in my arms. Seeing the familiar face, I also called out, "Dad."