"Elena, tell me—where exactly did you hide Hillary?!"

Jackson's hand clamped around her throat, fury boiling over. His grip was so tight it felt as though he might snap her neck at any moment.

Their five-year-old son, Aaron, stood nearby, watching his mother struggle on the rooftop. His eyes were as cold and detached as his father’s.

"Mom, if you still won't talk, I'll throw you into the Tibetan mastiff's cage."

Elena's vision blurred as she shut her eyes in pain, forcing herself to meet the father and son’s unfeeling gazes.

“I swear, I truly don’t know where Hillary is..."

"No matter how many times you ask, my answer will never change.”

Before she could catch her breath, the twins’ younger sister, Maya, shrieked and hurled her ice cream at Elena.

“You’re lying! Aunt Hillary is so beautiful and gentle. You were just jealous of her, so you drove her away!”

Jackson released her without a word, not bothering to stop the children’s accusations. The way he stared at her was as though she were a stranger.

Elena's heart went ice-cold.

She had been married into the Sullivan family for six years, caring for Jackson and his children with meticulous devotion.

And yet, she still couldn’t measure up to a single strand of Hillary's hair.

The bitterness of that truth was nothing compared to the chill in Jackson's eyes—it made her entire body tremble.

He snapped his fingers and spat coldly, "Hold her down."

The bodyguards surged forward, binding her and suspending her over the rooftop of the ninety-ninth floor.

At that instant, Elena's breath became ragged. She coughed violently, her face flushing red as pain wracked her body.

Jackson stood there, expressionless, showing no sign of stopping them.

"Oh my!" A long-haired woman entered from the stairwell, her heels clicking crisply against the floor. "It's all a misunderstanding. Don't put her down just yet."

Hillary's voice was soft and alluring as she nestled close to Jackson's side.

"Jackson, I just went out for a beauty treatment—were you that worried about me?"

The moment Aaron and Maya saw her, they rushed forward, clinging to her legs, rubbing against her affectionately.

With one arm around each child, Hillary's gaze swept lightly over Elena's bound figure before she kissed the children’s cheeks in satisfaction.

Watching their perfect picture of affection, Elena wanted to laugh, but instead, a mouthful of blood burst from her lips.

Jackson finally motioned for the bodyguards to let her down, then turned to Hillary with tenderness Elena had never once received.

"Hillary, you must have been scared. I had ginger tea prepared for you—the weather's so cold, you might catch a chill."

Watching the four figures leave, Elena staggered to her feet, suppressing the sharp, suffocating ache in her chest.

She had thought she was used to this by now.

But Hillary's presence was like a fishbone lodged in her throat—impossible to ignore, cutting deeper with every breath.

...

Back at the villa, Elena retrieved the divorce agreement from seven years ago, her knuckles whitening as she gripped it.

Outside, the maids whispered among themselves.

"Sir treats Miss Jordan so well. He's never shown Madam this kind of affection."

"Since she moved in, even the young master and young miss cling to her. I'm telling you, it's only a matter of time before this house has a new Madam."

In the study, Jackson tossed the divorce papers aside without so much as a glance, convinced Elena was just throwing another tantrum.

"Have you thought it through? You're not getting custody of Aaron and Maya."

"I don't want custody," Elena answered flatly.

He froze for a moment, then frowned deeply, his tone became impatient.

"Elena, what game are you playing now? I have no time to watch you put on another act."

"Now you want a divorce? Wasn’t it you who shamelessly clung to me in the first place?"

"If you hadn’t drunkenly climbed into my bed and used the child in your belly to force Hillary away, would I have wasted seven years without her?”

Not waiting for her reply, Jackson slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

Elena looked at his back and slowly closed her eyes.

This time, she was serious.

"Grandpa Russell, when we made that agreement years ago, I promised to bear an heir for the Sullivan family and raise them until the age of seven, in return for your kindness and financial support."

"Now, there's only half a month left on that promise. Please... let me go."

Standing in the dimly lit corridor, Elena traced the words of the contract with trembling fingers, her voice unsteady.

On the other end of the line came a sigh, heavy with age.

"Elena, I had hoped that seven years would be enough to mend the bond between you and Jackson... but it seems you were never meant to be. Once you leave the Sullivan family, where could a fragile woman like you possibly go?"

Tears welled in her eyes. She hastily wiped them away, her voice trembling and barely audible.

"Anywhere... as long as it's far from Los Angeles."

After ending the call, she booked a one-way flight to Ireland, set for two weeks later.

Back when she was an actress, she had bought a small apartment there. Now, it was the only place in the world that could take her in.

—

The twins' sixth birthday banquet was nothing short of extravagant.

Dressed in a dazzling haute couture gown, Hillary arrived arm-in-arm with Jackson as if she were Mrs. Sullivan.

Guests showered them with praise, marveling at how perfectly matched they seemed, a couple so flawless they could have been crafted by the heavens themselves.

Elena was suddenly struck by a bittersweet thought—there had been a time when she and Jackson shared tenderness too.

He had once taken care of all the arrangements for her parents' death anniversary, kneeling before their grave to swear his devotion. He held her hand in front of relatives and business partners, leading her into the glittering world of high society.

He had shown her the stars beneath the ocean, chased meteors with her through the night, and during their honeymoon in a quaint European town... she had given birth to the embodiment of their love.

Until Hillary came back into his life.

Her thoughts were broken by her son Aaron, waddling up to the stage and snatching the microphone from the host.

"I've already decided on my birthday wish!" he declared, his small voice ringing out through the hall.

"I wish my mom would let my dad be with Aunt Hillary—after all, stolen things never truly belong to you."

The crowd erupted into whispers. Elena's entire body jolted, her eyes flying wide in disbelief.

Then his twin sister, Maya, grabbed the microphone and mimicked him with alarming accuracy.

"Grandma says Mommy is a shameless homewrecker who ruined Daddy and Aunt Hillary's relationship. I hate bad women!"

As the murmurs grew, Hillary's expression abruptly changed.

Her face went pale as she pulled her skirt aside—revealing over a dozen razor blades slipping to the floor, her skin marked with fresh, bloody cuts.

"This dress... Elena personally prepared it for me. Maybe the blades got in by accident."

"Elena!" Jackson's voice carried a quiet, dangerous fury. "Why would you stoop to such vile tricks?"

Forcing herself to stay calm, Elena met his gaze. "It wasn't me. You can check the surveillance if you want—I have nothing to hide."

But Hillary quickly stepped in, eyes glistening with tears, her fragile beauty stirring pity.

"Jackson, it must be a misunderstanding. Could you... come with me to change? I'm in so much pain..."

Without a second thought, he turned to soothe her, brushing away her tears before lifting her into his arms.

The moment they left, Aaron's eyes gleamed. With all his strength, he shoved her hard.

Splash!

Elena stumbled into the decorative pool in the center of the hall. For visual effect, the organizers had scattered shards of glass along the pool floor to catch the light—now. They bit into her feet with every movement.

She slowly pushed herself upright, crimson blooming into the water around her.

"Filthy woman!" Aaron snarled, kicking her shin. "If you dare hurt Aunt Hillary again, I'll make sure you're thrown out of this house!"

Jackson returned just in time to see her struggling in the pool. Before he could speak, Maya burst into loud, trembling sobs.

"Daddy, I'm so scared! Mommy tried to hit my brother, but she slipped and fell into the pool instead."

The sharp sting of judgmental stares cut into her like knives.

She looked at the two children she had risked her life to bring into the world—and felt her heart grow cold.

"Jackson... it doesn't matter what I say. You've never believed me anyway."

His gaze swept over his children's tear-streaked faces before landing on her disheveled form. His voice was as frigid as ice.

“Would a child like her even lie?”

“Stop making a scene. Aren’t you ashamed to behave like this in front of the children and guests? As Mrs. Sullivan, you might as well be dead.”

On the way to the hospital with the help of a kind stranger, Elena's tears finally spilled over.

She wouldn't fight anymore.

For the rest of her life... never again.

On the third day of her hospital stay, Elena quietly completed the discharge paperwork on her own.

Her attending physician was a man of striking composure—calm, refined, with an air of aloof elegance. She thought he just looked familiar, but when she learned his name, she recognized him.

Giovanni Hamilton.

Over the past few days, the little girl in the next bed had noticed her melancholy and had been trying every possible way to cheer her up.

It was only later that Elena learned the girl was Giovanni's daughter, Tiffany.

Tiffany was as sweet-tongued as if her lips had been dipped in honey. She clung to Elena's arm like a tiny, precocious guardian, muttering indignantly, "Pretty sister, your family is way too mean! You're this sick, and they won't even come visit you!"

"But it's okay, I'll keep you company! You have to promise not to forget me, okay?"

When it was time to leave the hospital, Elena was still limping. Giovanni personally escorted her downstairs, offering a polite apology.

"I'm sorry, Tiffany is naturally lively. But I can tell she's very fond of you."

Elena shook her head, her mind drifting to her own children. A faint sadness crossed over her face.

"I actually envy you and your wife—for raising such a wonderful child."

Giovanni gave a soft laugh as he opened the car door for her.

"You misunderstand, Miss Torres. My work keeps me too busy; I've never married."

"Tiffany is a child I adopted from an orphanage."

"If you don't mind, may we exchange contact information? Tiffany specifically asked me to."

By the time Elena returned to the villa, the weather outside was heavy and humid, as if the sky had just been washed by rain.

Elena slipped her phone into her pocket—Giovanni's number now sat quietly in her contact list—and stepped into the living room.

Jackson was in casual home clothes, personally cooking in the kitchen, his gaze holding a warmth she had never seen before.

Beside him, Hillary wore a flowing white chiffon dress, exuding gentle, demure charm. Aaron and Maya leaned against her shoulders, sweet voices chattering away.

The scene of the "perfect family of four" cut deep into Elena's heart.

Just then, her phone rang.

"Miss Torres, your flight has been ticketed. Would you like to select your seat now?"

The moment she hung up, an abrupt voice cut in behind her.

"Flight? You're going abroad?"

The scent of Hillary's perfume clung to Jackson as he stepped too close. Elena instantly pushed him away.

"It's nothing—you misheard."

Jackson didn't press further. Later, while at the dining table, he answered a call, his brows furrowing as he ended it.

"Check what my wife has been doing lately," he instructed his assistant. "See if she's been meeting anyone... questionable."

"I can't shake the feeling she's hiding something from me."

Before he could say more, the sharp cries of a child rang out. Jackson strode quickly toward the sound, only to see a dish of buttered chicken—garnished with peanuts—on the dining table.

Maya's cheeks were flushed, a rash spreading down her neck, her breathing grew shallow as if she might suffocate.

Seeing him, she immediately complained,

“Daddy! I feel bad... Mommy gave me a bite of food, and after I swallowed it, I found out there were peanuts in it!”

Jackson's expression turned ice-cold.

"Elena, what's your excuse this time?"

"You don't even know your child's allergens? You're not even half as good to them as Hillary is. Are you fit to call yourself a mother?"

He waited for her usual pleas or protests—but none came.

Elena opened her mouth, but no words emerged. Only a quiet sigh escaped her throat before she gave a small, self-mocking smile.

"Then I'm not fit. Think whatever you want."

Her submissive acceptance bored Jackson. With a scowl, he grabbed his car keys and left without another word.

While he was away to get medicine, Aaron's eyes reddened as he burrowed into Hillary's arms.

"Aunt Hillary, if only you were my real mom... I don't want that bad woman as my mother."

Hillary drew both children onto her lap.

"Darlings, why do you dislike your own mother so much? Let Auntie stand up for you."

Aaron and Maya began counting grievances on their fingers, "Bad Mommy won't let me eat tasty snacks. She only lets us watch half an hour of TV a day and keeps restricting us."

"She says I'm too fat and makes me run every day. Even at mealtime, I can only eat until I'm seventy percent full."

"After school, she signed us up for all sorts of extra classes—she's just trying to get back at us. She's a witch!"

A flicker of cruelty flashed in Hillary's eyes.

"Darlings, if you trust Auntie, then here's what you should do..."