Chapter 1 The third time Arthur burst through the door to catch me in bed with another man, I didn't panic, scramble for my clothes, or beg to explain like I did the first two times. Elena, the head legal counsel for Sterling Enterprises, stood at the front of the group. "Ms. Davis, this is your third instance of marital infidelity." "According to your prenuptial agreement, you will forfeit all marital assets and relinquish custody of your child." Arthur had long since lost his patience. The look in his eyes was filled with pure, visceral hatred. He threw the divorce agreement down on the table in front of me: "The first time, you said you didn't even know the guy." "The second time, you said you had no idea how you ended up in a hotel room." "Three strikes. What the hell is your excuse this time?" He thought I was going to scramble for some pathetic, clumsy lie. But I didn't say a single word. I just quietly picked up a pen and signed my name on the dotted line. And then, I walked out of his life forever. But why is it that when I finally gave him exactly what he wanted—walking away with nothing, not even our child—he completely lost his mind? ... Elena immediately snatched the signed agreement away. As if terrified I might change my mind, she turned to Arthur and said, "Mr. Sterling, it's signed." Arthur stared at me, his brows knitted tightly together. He was probably waiting for me to tear the papers up like I did the last two times. Waiting for me to drop to my knees, bang my head against the floor until it bled, and sob, "Please, just believe me, for our son's sake!" ... I capped the pen and set it gently back on the desk. "I'll have my things moved out as soon as possible. As for visitation rights—" "You don't deserve to be a mother," he cut me off, his voice dark and heavy. "You are never seeing him again." I didn't look up. I just offered a small smile. "I was just about to say... I don't want visitation rights either." The coldness in Arthur's eyes didn't waver. But he did give me a long, hard look. As if he couldn't figure out where this sudden, decisive compliance was coming from. For the past four years, he and our son had been my entire world. I used to cry for half the day just because my son called Elena "Auntie" one too many times. For me to just walk away without a fight—it wasn't like me. "Slut," he sneered, seemingly having found a logical explanation for my bizarre behavior. "To run off with some random guy, you'd even abandon your own flesh and blood." "So what was all that scheming to climb into my bed and have my kid for, anyway?" Listening to his venom, I felt absolutely zero desire to defend myself. The first time he caught me "fooling around" in a hotel, I was completely disoriented. I desperately tried to explain that I hadn't done anything to betray him. He had always been absolutely certain that I was helplessly devoted to him. And since the man I was supposedly sleeping with had fled before anyone saw his face—leaving only a blurry silhouette on the hotel's security cameras—Arthur begrudgingly chose to believe me. But he still took my son away from me. To see him for my one allowed visit per month, I had to schedule it a week in advance with Elena. And when I did see him, Elena would hover behind me, "chaperoning" the entire visit. I even had to check her facial expressions just to hold my own baby a little longer. Every toy or piece of clothing I bought for him had to be approved by Elena first. If she didn't approve, it never made it to my son. My mental health took a massive hit. Then, I was caught "cheating" for the second time. I had taken a part-time job just to get out of the house. On a business trip, I somehow ended up in a strange hotel room in a haze. When I woke up, a repulsive, overweight man was lying next to me, literally drooling. I called the police, but after the female officer examined me, she confirmed I hadn't been assaulted. The facts were right there in black and white, but Arthur remained convinced that I simply hadn't had the time to "commit the crime." After that, I wasn't even allowed to attend my son's kindergarten parent-teacher conferences. Every time there was a school event, Arthur sent Elena. He told me to stay home and "stop embarrassing the family." When my own son pointed at my nose and called me a "bad woman," Arthur just stood by and said absolutely nothing. And now, the third time... I was tired of playing this cat-and-mouse game. I was ready to give them what they wanted. And yet, he has the nerve to ask me why I'm abandoning my child? Elena stepped quickly to his side, lowering her voice as she reminded him: "Mr. Sterling, even though the agreement stipulates she forfeits custody... I've been a lawyer for a long time, and I have never seen a mother give up her own child this easily." "If she's bold enough to cheat this many times, she probably planned for this outcome all along. After all, dragging a kid around would really cramp her style... I wouldn't waste my breath trying to talk sense into her." After she finished, she glanced at me, a flicker of heavy calculation in her eyes. I let out a soft laugh. She seemed to have forgotten... Four years ago, she was the one who drafted this absurd prenuptial agreement, right down to specifying the exact number of allowed "infidelities." Arthur's face grew even colder. "You better stick to your word. Don't come crawling back to me on your knees later." With that final threat, he turned on his heel and walked out. I watched his retreating back and gave a slight, bitter smile. I won't, Arthur. Years ago, to convince myself that accepting you was the right choice, I visited every single church in the city, praying for guidance. Every fortune I drew was a terrible omen. I eventually traveled three thousand miles away and knelt on the cold stone floor of a temple for a day and a night, until I finally drew a fortune that read: "A destined match from heaven; question not the origin." I never imagined that my "destined match" would turn out to be a curse. This time, my knees will never bend for you again. Elena looked at me, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly. "Well, Ms. Davis, time is money. We'll leave you to it!" The moment the door clicked shut, the room fell silent again. I looked down at the man still passed out on the bed. A wave of intense nausea churned in my stomach. I had woken up long before him. I didn't have to sit here and wait for them to burst in and catch me. But I was just so exhausted by this endless, pathetic game. So I waited. I pulled on my coat and walked out the door without looking back once. The next evening, I returned to the estate to pack my things. When I opened the door to the master bedroom, I realized that everything I owned, everything I used, was completely gone. The housekeeper stammered, avoiding my eyes: "Ma'am, your things were all moved to the storage shed... Ms. Elena said, she said the master bedroom... is going to have a new mistress soon, so it needed to be cleared out immediately!" I gave a short, cynical laugh. Married for four years, and I didn't even deserve a decent goodbye. I turned and walked toward the storage shed in the backyard. I pushed the door open. Boxes were stacked on top of boxes, bags piled on top of bags. I crouched down and began digging through them one by one. I didn't care about anything else, but I had to find my mother's jade bangle. It was an heirloom passed down from my grandmother to my mother, and then from my mother to me... It was the only thing in this entire house that truly belonged to me! I finally found it at the very bottom of a dusty box. I clutched it tightly in my palm, letting out a long, shuddering sigh of relief. Just as I was gathering a few clothes to take with me, a childish voice rang out from the doorway: "What are you doing?" I turned my head. My son, Leo, was blocking the doorway with his small frame. He looked exactly like Arthur, but that condescending, arrogant posture was a carbon copy of Elena. "Getting my things." I turned back and kept sorting. Normally, whenever I saw him, even if he pushed me away, I would rush over to shower him with kisses and hugs. But this time, I felt nothing but a hollow, absolute calmness. "These aren't your things." Seeing that I was ignoring him, he marched inside. He stomped his foot directly onto my scattered clothes. "Auntie Elena said everything in this house belongs to Daddy. You are not allowed to take a single thing." I paused. "These are my personal belongings." "The money you spend is Daddy's money," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. "Daddy's money belongs to the Sterling family, and Sterling family things have nothing to do with outsiders." Outsider? I looked up at him. A four-year-old child, standing in front of me, looking at me like I was a common thief. The coldness in his eyes was even sharper than Arthur's. "I'm only taking one thing." I gripped the jade bangle tightly and stood up. "I don't want anything else." "No!" He stepped forward, blocking the doorway, spreading his arms wide. "You cannot steal from the Sterling family!" "Leo, move." "I won't!" He raised his voice. "You're a beggar! A thieving beggar! Auntie Elena said once you leave, you can never come back, and if you take things, you're stealing!" My temples began to throb. "I am going to say this one more time. Move." "I won't! Put it down!" He lunged forward, grabbing the red cloth pouch in my hand and yanking with all his might. I instinctively pulled back, and the red cloth ripped open. The jade bangle slipped out, hit the concrete floor, and shattered into several jagged pieces. I stood frozen in place, remembering what my mother had told me the day she slipped the bangle onto my wrist. She said, "Sarah, this has been in our family for six generations. One day, you'll pass it down to your daughter. If you don't have a daughter, you pass it to your daughter-in-law..." I don't have a daughter. And I don't have a daughter-in-law. I only had this bangle. It survived six generations, only to be shattered in my lifetime... by my own flesh and blood. Leo stood there, looking at the broken pieces, and muttered defensively, "Well, why didn't you just let go..." I stared at him, my eyes burning red. "I told you, this was left to me by my mother." "Do you even know why your grandmother is lying in a nursing home right now?!" Leo froze for a second, taking a small step back. "I don't know any grandmother. I just know there's some old lady burning through Daddy's money..." The blood violently rushed to my head. "Auntie Elena said she lives in a super expensive hospital room, spending so much of Daddy's money, and she's never going to get better anyway, so she's just burning cash—" "Say that again." My voice changed. It was so cold and terrifying I didn't even recognize it as my own. Leo was visibly frightened by the look on my face. He bit his lip, but puffed out his chest and brazenly repeated: "She's a money-burning old lady! So wha—AH!" I shoved him. He tripped over his own feet and fell hard onto his backside. He sat there stunned for a full second before bursting into loud, theatrical wails. "DADDY! DADDY!" I stood there, my palms completely numb. Looking at my son kicking his legs and screaming on the floor, the words "money-burning old lady" echoed endlessly in my ears. That "money-burning old lady" was my mother. His grandmother. She was the woman who, when he was just one month old, dragged herself out of bed right after major surgery to hand-sew him a little winter coat. She was the woman who called from the nursing home every single year on his birthday, having the nurses read him a "Happy Birthday, Leo" card. And he called her a "money-burning old lady"! The sharp edges of the broken jade dug into my palm. The physical pain brought me back to reality a little. Arthur burst into the room. Seeing his son crying on the floor, he rushed over and scooped him up. "Leo, what happened?" Leo buried his face in Arthur's chest, sobbing hysterically. "Daddy, she pushed me! Kick her out, please! I want Auntie Elena..." Holding his son, Arthur looked up at me. His eyes held nothing but icy, furious judgment. "Sarah, are you insane?! You're hitting a child now?!" "I didn't hit him." My voice was eerily calm. "I just pushed him." "Is there a difference?!" I looked down at the shattered jade in my hand. "Yes," I said. "Hitting him would be disciplining him as a mother. Pushing him is exactly what he deserves as a piece of trash."
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