Chapter 1 Three years after our divorce, my ex-wife, Olivia Vance, showed up with a bouquet of red roses. She smiled with absolute confidence. "Hey, honey. I kept my word. I’m right on time for us to get back together." Three years ago, during a game of Truth or Dare, she lost to her childhood best friend, Liam. Liam’s dare was simple, and venomous. "I want to see if you and Liam are really 'true love'." "So, you guys get a divorce, and you can't see each other for three years." "If he still wants to remarry you after three years, I'll admit you guys are the real deal." She and Liam never had any boundaries. Their relationship was a constant, thinly veiled flirtation. We fought about it all the time. I honestly thought she would refuse. Instead, she agreed without hesitation. "Deal! A bet is a bet!" Her friends tried to stop her. "Are you crazy? Divorce isn't a joke!" But Olivia just looked at me with absolute certainty. "I trust our relationship. My husband only has eyes for me." "He’ll definitely marry me again!" I didn't say a word. She had no idea that was the last chance I was ever going to give her. Snapping back to the present, she tried to press the flowers into my chest. I didn't take them. I took a step back and said calmly, "My wife doesn't let me accept flowers from other women." Olivia’s lips curled into a confident, dismissive smirk. "Are you mad?" "Okay, okay, I’m here now, aren’t I?" "Come on, don't be mad." Her tone was patronizingly sweet. She genuinely thought I was just throwing a tantrum. She walked toward me, arms outstretched for a hug, just like she used to. I took another step back, my face hardening. "Ms. Vance, please keep your distance." Her hands froze mid-air, but her eyes remained fixed on my face, soft and indulgent. "Wow, you're really mad this time." "Tell me how to make it up to you. I'll do whatever you want." She still arrogantly believed that a few sweet words would fix everything, just like the old days. She took another step closer. For every step she took, I retreated one. The look in her eyes only grew more predatory, fueled by the thrill of the chase. "Olivia, three years is a long time. A lot of things change." She nodded in agreement. "True." I backed up until my shoulders hit the wall. I had nowhere else to go. She planted both hands on the wall beside my head, trapping me. It was a move she used to pull all the time when we were dating, usually before kissing me under the moonlight. "I heard there's a kid around you now. Adopted, right? A boy or a girl?" She reached out, gently stroking my cheek. Thinking of that child sent a sharp, agonizing pain through my chest. Three years ago, she was pregnant with our baby. But because she lost a stupid dare to Liam, she actually got an abortion and divorced me. And for three years, she vanished. Not a single text, not a single call. And now she waltzed back into my life, completely convinced I'd just been sitting here, waiting like a good dog for her to take me back! A mocking smile formed on my lips. Before I could speak, Olivia's phone rang. She pulled it out. The caller ID flashed: My Little Trouble. It was her nickname for Liam. I had seen it a million times. I’d seen her affectionately ruffle his hair, calling him her "little trouble" since they were kids. She never gave a damn about how it made me, her actual husband, feel. She answered immediately. "Olivia, you gotta come... my stomach is killing me, it hurts so bad." Liam’s voice came through the speaker, thick with fake tears. Olivia’s eyes instantly filled with panic. "Don't worry, I'm heading back right now." She hung up. She hastily patted the top of my head, like she was soothing a docile pet. "I have to go check on Liam. I'll come find you later tonight." And with that, she ran off. Liam was back to his usual routine, showing off on Instagram. It was basically him flexing their relationship. The photo showed him looking pale and sweaty, resting his head in Olivia’s lap. Olivia was gently rubbing his stomach. The caption read: Since we were kids, she’s always loved me the most. No matter how important her other plans are, or how important other people think they are. Whenever I'm sick, she’s always by my side in a heartbeat. Giving me all her love and care. She really is the best woman in the world!!! I casually double-tapped the photo. It wasn't just one like. For three years, Liam had posted these little flexes every single day. Three years, 1,095 posts. I had liked every single one of them. He found new ways to show off every day. Like how he didn't work, so Olivia gave him a platinum Amex card with no limit. How he practically lived in the house Olivia and I used to share. How he used my old things, or threw them away, whenever he felt like it. For three years, he and Olivia had done everything a couple would do. I knew he posted them specifically for me to see. Every "like" I left was a symbol of my absolute contempt and indifference. But Liam? He thought it was jealousy. He thought I was going crazy, desperately trying to stay relevant in their lives. The next time I saw Olivia, she and Liam came into my coffee shop together. They were wearing matching beige outfits. Olivia, who always wore sharp business suits, was in a trendy, casual dress. I used to suggest matching outfits when we were married. She always shot me down, saying she was used to formal wear and didn't want to change her style. Liam looked around the coffee shop I owned, his eyes full of surprise. Olivia looked at me, confused. "I gave you so much money in the settlement. Why are you working such a tiring job?" When we divorced, I asked for half of our assets. She gave it to me without hesitation. I paused making the espresso and looked at her, my face completely blank. "Because I want to. And it’s none of your business." Olivia’s expression didn't change. She still thought I was just acting out because I was mad at her. Liam greeted me with fake politeness. "Hey, Arthur. It's been three years. How have you been?" "I've been great." Liam looked genuinely surprised by how calm I was. Olivia’s phone rang, and she stepped outside to take it. The second it was just me and Liam, he dropped the act. His polite smile twisted into a smug, arrogant sneer. "Cut the 'hard to get' crap. But don't get your hopes up, either." He looked down his nose at me, a nasty smirk playing on his lips. "Even if you manage to remarry Olivia this time, so what?!" "Mrs. Vance hates you. I’ve always been the son-in-law she actually wanted." "Olivia is only remarrying you out of a sense of duty." "Hell, she even asked for my permission before coming to see you today." "And you’re going to sign a prenup." "Oh, by the way, I drafted it myself." He pulled a thick document from his briefcase and slapped it on the counter in front of me. I glanced down at it with utter disdain. The very first line stated that I would have zero claim to any of the Vance family assets. After the marriage, I was forbidden from calling Olivia's mother "Mom." I had to call her "Mrs. Vance." In public, I wasn't allowed to claim I was a part of the Vance family. I was to introduce myself merely as the "ex-husband." The sheer audacity of the document actually made me laugh. I slid the prenup back to him. "If her mother loves you so much, why are you still just the 'best friend'?" "Three years, and Olivia still treats you like a disposable toy. That’s pretty pathetic." Liam flushed with anger. He instinctively raised his hand to slap me. Just then, the sound of Olivia's heels clicking toward us echoed from the entrance. Liam’s face morphed faster than a chameleon. His eyes instantly went red, his voice broke, and he put on a masterful display of aggrieved, selfless martyrdom. "Arthur, I really just want you and Olivia to be happy." "As her best friend, I just want her to have a good life." "This prenup is just a formality. Please don't be mad, okay?" He was just as good an actor as he was three years ago. The second Olivia saw him looking like a kicked puppy, her brain turned to mush. She completely lost any ability to judge the situation objectively. "Liam, what happened?" Olivia immediately pulled him behind her defensively, her eyes filled with concern. Liam shook his head, playing the noble victim. "It's nothing. It's my fault. Please don't be mad at Arthur." The more he acted like that, the more Olivia was convinced I was bullying him. "Arthur!" She glared at me, her voice cold. "Apologize!" Her tone left no room for argument. It was the same tone she used to command her employees. A cold smile crept onto my face. She frowned, clearly displeased with my reaction. "Liam and I grew up together! He’s like a little brother to me!" "He’s my family! Could you please stop being so hostile to him every time you see him?!" "Just for my sake, be nice to him for once, okay?!" My expression remained unchanged. I had seen this exact performance a hundred times three years ago. I was sick of it. Just as I was about to kick them out, a FaceTime call popped up on my iPad sitting on the counter. The caller ID read: My Baby Boy. When Olivia saw the name, her eyes lit up. Before I could reach it, she slammed her finger on the 'Accept' button. I quickly grabbed the iPad. The face of an adorable two-year-old boy appeared on the screen. "Daddy, I miss you!" Hearing him call me "Daddy," Olivia practically vibrated with excitement. She was absolutely convinced that I had adopted a child because I was still mourning the baby she aborted. I quickly exchanged a few words with my son. Just as Olivia lunged to grab the iPad to talk to him, I ended the call. "I want to see my son!" She was grinning from ear to ear, all her previous anger completely forgotten, as if nothing had happened. Liam’s face darkened instantly. "He is not your son!" I glared at her, my voice turning deadly serious. "Stop bothering me. You two are complete psychos!" She didn't get mad. Instead, she tried to coax me, still trapped in her own delusion. "Okay, okay, stop being mad." "I really missed you and our son so much." In that moment, I realized something. People as self-absorbed as her would never believe I didn't love them anymore unless they saw it with their own eyes. Suddenly, she said, "My mom's birthday is in a few days." "You're a good cook. Make a few of her favorite dishes." "Use this opportunity to fix your relationship with her." "I’ll tell her this is our actual son. Once she knows she has a grandson, she won't make things hard for you anymore." So she did know. She knew that for the three years we were married, her mother treated me like dirt. Mrs. Vance always looked down on me because I came from a working-class background. Even though I was Olivia's legal husband, Mrs. Vance banned me from all family events. If she was present, I wasn't even allowed to sit at the same dinner table. I hated her, too. Our relationship was practically non-existent. We just ignored each other. And throughout all of that toxic abuse, Olivia had always stayed silent. A mocking smile curved my lips. I asked deliberately, "Olivia, hypothetically speaking." "If I cook a five-star meal, and your mother still refuses to let me sit at the table. Then what?" She hesitated for a second before answering. "You're the younger generation. Just say a few nice things and coax her a bit." "You know how my mom is. She has a sharp tongue but a soft heart." Liam deliberately chimed in, "Arthur, there's no shame in apologizing to an elder. Mrs. Vance has a soft spot for people who grovel at her feet." He was passive-aggressively telling me to get on my knees. I let out a harsh laugh. I stared dead into Olivia's dark eyes and said with absolute, grave sincerity, "Olivia, it's been three years. Everything has changed!" "I am married. And that child is not yours." I turned to Liam. "You should probably practice groveling yourself. Maybe you'll finally be allowed to officially enter the Vance family." Liam looked devastated, his eyes welling up. "I shouldn't have spoken." He turned and walked away. Olivia’s face turned ugly. She glared at me. "How long are you going to keep up this stubborn act?!" Then, she hurried after Liam. My phone buzzed. It was a text from my wife: [Hey honey, the project wrapped up. I'll be home tomorrow afternoon.] I let out a long sigh of relief. I figured once Olivia finally met Eleanor Sterling in person, she’d snap out of her delusions. The next day, I had just arrived at the coffee shop. The director of my son’s daycare suddenly called me. They said my son had been picked up by a woman claiming to be his biological mother, and a man claiming to be his godfather. My heart leaped into my throat. I raced to the Vance family estate. When I burst through the gates, I saw Liam placing my son inside a doghouse, surrounded by a large dog and a black cat. My son was severely allergic to animal dander. Dogs, cats—he couldn't be near any of them. My son was screaming in terror, his face flushed bright red down to his neck. Hives were already breaking out on his throat. Liam completely ignored my son’s hysterical crying. Instead, he shoved the black cat closer to my son’s face. "Don't be scared, Leo. This kitty is three years old, so she's basically your big sister." "She’s your godfather’s favorite kitty! Give her a hug. Don't be rude, you're crying so loud you're scaring the kitty." My son threw his hands up in terror, trying to hide. The black cat lashed out with sharp claws, leaving several bloody scratches across my son's face. My son’s screams grew louder. Liam said softly, "See? You scared the kitty." But his eyes held a vicious, threatening glare as he stared at my child. "Get your hands off my son!" I roared, charging toward them. I was inches away from grabbing my boy. Suddenly, Olivia appeared from the side. She threw her arms around my arm, using her entire body weight to drag me backward. "Liam is just trying to be nice! He wants the boy to have some playmates!" My eyes were bloodshot. Furious, I violently yanked my arm free and slapped her across the face. "My son is allergic to animal dander!" "His playmates are not animals!" I turned to grab my son again, but Olivia recklessly threw herself at me again, clinging to me. Liam looked up at me, the picture of innocence. "Today is the kitty's 3rd birthday. She loves playing with kids." "I just figured since Leo is joining the Vance family, they should get to know each other." While he spoke, his black cat was thrashing in my son’s lap. It left a mess of bloody scratches on my son’s arms, neck, and face. Liam deliberately added, "Don't worry, my dog and cat are fully vaccinated. They're very clean." "I sleep with my kitty every night." Watching my son crying so hard he was gasping for air, I was frantic. I struggled with everything I had. Olivia held onto me tight, trying to soothe me. "He's a boy! He can't be raised to be this fragile." "He's going to inherit the Vance family business one day. He needs to build some courage. He can't be terrified of a cat." Suddenly, my son’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed. I screamed like a madman, "He’s going into anaphylactic shock!" Only then did Olivia realize how serious it was. I broke free, scooped up my son, and sprinted toward my car to get to the hospital. Olivia and Liam followed close behind. While my son was in the emergency room being treated, the doctor handed over a consent form for emergency procedures. "I need the child's father or mother to sign this." Olivia immediately jumped in. "I am the child's mother. I'll sign it!" Just as she reached out to take the clipboard, a cold, authoritative voice rang out from behind her. "Since when did my son become yours?"
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