Chapter 2

At my mom's funeral, I held Jordan's hand and thanked everyone who came to mourn with us.

As I bent down, I caught sight of a pair of leather shoes and some slender high heels.

I instantly recognized the shoes. They were the ones I'd had custom-made for Osbert.

"Astrid..." Osbert's familiar voice came from above me. "I just found out about Mom..."

He quickly corrected himself, "I mean, about your mother. My deepest condolences."

I looked up to see Osbert watching me, looking visibly flustered.

"Dad!" Jordan shouted excitedly.

Helen looked terrifyingly angry as she snapped, "You little bastard, who do you think you're calling Dad?"

I shielded Jordan behind me with one arm, the other protectively resting on my belly, and said coldly, "You're not welcome here. Please leave."

But Helen wasn't about to let me off that easily. She suddenly yelled, "Wow, what a loving daughter. You actually pushed your mom to her grave. This is karma for being a homewrecker!"

I couldn't hold back anymore. I stepped forward and slapped her hard across the face.

The next second, Helen stumbled and fell right toward my mom's urn.

"No!" I cried out in horror.

But it was too late. She knocked the urn to the floor, and my mom's ashes spilled everywhere.

I stared at the ashes scattered all over the floor, feeling utterly hopeless. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I just broke down and sobbed.

Osbert grabbed my hand in a panic, anxiously examining it for any injury.

"Does it hurt? Is your hand okay?" he asked.

Helen glared at Osbert as he held my hand.

"Osbert, how dare you treat me like this? You really think I won't get my dad involved?" she snapped.

Osbert froze for a moment, then quickly let go of my hand and helped Helen to her feet.

My eyes were bloodshot as I stared at the scene before me, utterly hopeless. I didn't care about the guests' shocked stares. I couldn't help but confront Osbert.

"Osbert, am I your wife or not?" I demanded.

I saw the struggle on Osbert's face, but in the end, he replied, "No. Helen is my wife."

He pointed at the ashes scattered all over the floor and said coldly, "Nice prop, but too bad it's just a fake.

"You got everyone to play along with your little show just to get me here. Even your mother let you pull this stunt."

His words felt like a knife stabbing straight into my heart.

I screamed, "Osbert, you scumbag. Have you seriously forgotten who had your back when you needed it?

"When you were starting out and couldn't afford to invest in that project, my mom gave up all her retirement savings just to help you out. You wouldn't be where you are now if it weren't for her.

"Do you even remember what you said that day? You swore you'd be her son from then on!"

Osbert stood there, frozen, veins bulging on his forehead as he struggled to keep his composure.

"Now that my mom is dead, you don't even show her any respect. Instead, you stand here spouting cold, callous words. You are so shameless!" I shouted.

I jabbed a finger at Helen, my voice shaking with fury. "Why did you even bring this bitch here?"

Helen snapped back, "You'd better get it straight. You're the homewrecker!"

Osbert quickly took Helen's hand and murmured, "Helen, let's go."

I watched their backs as they left, tears streaming down my face.

Before I could even begin to process the grief of losing my mom, my phone buzzed with a news alert.

The headline read: [Foster Group CEO and his wife show up at a funeral. Sources say the whole thing was a ploy by the homewrecker to gain sympathy, even faking her mother's death.]

The article included a video of Osbert and Helen standing there, accusing me of putting on an act.

The comments were full of hate. Everyone was telling me to just die.

My heart was breaking, and I felt completely hopeless. I had to take deep breaths just to calm myself down a little.

Just then, my phone rang. It was my assistant.

"Mrs. Foster, our business partners are all pulling out. No one wants to back a company run by a homewrecker, and they're too afraid to work with you now," she said.

I held my breath, reminding myself to stay calm.

"Don't worry. As long as the company is still here, there's still hope for a comeback," I said.

The next day, I went to pick Jordan up from kindergarten, only to find his face covered in bruises.

"Jordan, what happened?" I asked anxiously, my heart pounding with worry.

Jordan threw his arms around me, sobbing. "Mom, the other kids called you a homewrecker and said I'm a bastard. They won't play with me, and they even hit me!"

Just then, the supervising teacher walked over.

She said with disdain, "Hey, Jordan's mom, maybe you should just transfer him to another kindergarten.

"All the other parents signed together to kick Jordan out. They don't want their kids in the same school as a kid like him."

I hugged Jordan tightly, trying my best to keep it together.