Chapter 1

After a long day at work, I walked into my house only to find my husband, Lucien, and his mistress, Sophia, shamelessly hooking up in my own bed. And as if that wasn't enough, my eight-month-old son, Lorenzo, had been carelessly dumped in the bathtub by Lucien, left to bathe all alone.

*****

When I pushed open the door, I was still holding a takeout box from Lucien's favorite restaurant.

My name is Michelle Turner. Today was the happiest day I'd had in three months.

I finally managed to close the six-month-long cross-border merger deal for Carter Group.

The moment the other party's representative signed the contract, the first thing that popped into my head was that I couldn't finally spend time with my son Lorenzo Carter.

Lucien Carter had complained on the phone yesterday, "As the CFO, you're even busier than the chairman. Lorenzo's starting to forget what his mom looks like."

So I deliberately wrapped up the celebration early, and even told my assistant not to bother driving me home.

I wanted to surprise them.

The living room lights were on, but it was strangely quiet.

"Lucien? Lorenzo?" I called out, setting my bag and the takeout on the entryway table as I slipped off my shoes and put on my slippers.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and faint sounds drifted out from inside.

I smiled, thinking it was probably Lorenzo causing trouble again.

At eight months old, he'd just started crawling, and he never stayed still for a second when he was awake.

As I reached for the doorknob, a woman's laughter drifted out.

It was flirtatious and girlish, strange, yet somehow familiar.

I hesitated for a moment, then pushed the door open.

The two people on the bed froze, like someone had hit pause.

Lucien was shirtless, and Sophia, his secretary, lay there with her long hair messily sprawled over the pillow, barely covered by just the edge of the blanket.

Time seemed to freeze for a few seconds.

Then Sophia Sanders screamed and pulled the blanket around herself.

Lucien frantically snatched his shirt from the floor and stammered my name.

"M-Michelle? What are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be working on the contract?"

I looked away from them and glanced around the room.

The crib was empty.

"Where's Lorenzo?" I asked.

My voice was eerily calm, even I was surprised at how steady I sounded.

Lucien was still scrambling to pull on his pants, stammering, "Lorenzo? Lorenzo's... he's..."

"I'm asking you, where is Lorenzo?" I pressed, still keeping my composure.

My voice rose sharply.

Sophia hid behind Lucien, muttering under her breath, "Why are you freaking out? Isn't the kid just playing in the bathroom?"

Bathroom.

I felt a jolt shoot through me. My mind went blank for a second, then I spun around and dashed out of the room.

The bathroom door was closed, and I could hear water running inside.

My heart was racing, about to burst out of my chest. I tried the doorknob, it was locked.

"Open the door! Lucien! Why is the bathroom door locked?" I shouted, pounding on the door.

I kept pounding on the door, shouting as loud as I could.

Lucien rushed over, still half-dressed, his face drained of color.

"I-I don't know... Maybe Lorenzo somehow locked it by accident..." he stammered.

"Where's the key? Where's the key?" I shouted, my voice shaking with panic.

He fumbled through his pockets, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

Sophia slowly walked over, still wrapped in my silk robe, leaning against the doorframe with a bored, impatient look.

"Seriously, you guys are overreacting. It's just a kid playing with water, what's the big deal?" she scoffed.

"Shut up!" I snapped, whipping around to glare at her.

Lucien finally found the key, but his hands were shaking so badly that he kept missing the keyhole, trying again and again before he finally managed to get it in.

The moment the door swung open, I saw a scene that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

The bathtub was filled with water, and my eight-month-old son, Lorenzo, was floating face down on the surface.

He was wearing the little yellow onesie I'd just bought him last week, the one with the ducklings printed on it. The fabric was soaked dark, and he was just a tiny, motionless bundle in the water.

"Lorenzo!" I screamed.

I had no idea how I got to him, I just rushed over, acting on pure instinct.

Water flew everywhere as I hauled him out. His tiny body was limp, his face was turning purple, and his lips were a frightening shade of blue.

There was no sound, not a single movement, just an awful, empty silence.

"Lorenzo? Lorenzo, look at Mommy... Lorenzo!" I cried, my voice breaking.

I gently tapped his face, pressed on his chest, tried everything I knew from first aid, but his tiny body in my arms was only getting colder.

Lucien stood rooted in the doorway, his mouth agape, unable to utter a single word.

Sophia craned her neck to look inside, then clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. "Oh my God... How did this even happen..."

"Call an ambulance! Lucien, don't just stand there, call an ambulance!" I screamed, my voice raw with panic.

I rushed out of the bathroom with Lorenzo in my arms, barely noticing Lucien as I pushed him aside and bolted for the door.

My slippers were gone, but I didn't care, I just kept running barefoot.

The elevator was down on the first floor, and I couldn't wait. I tore straight for the stairwell and started sprinting down.

The stairs felt endless, step after step. I clung to Lorenzo for dear life, crying out again and again, "It's okay, Lorenzo, don't be scared. Mommy's here, Mommy's here..."