Chapter 2

The next morning, Darren had a dark look on his face.

"Why'd you sell the downtown penthouse? What do you need all that cash for, anyway?" he asked.

I went with the excuse I'd already planned. "I've been getting into investing lately, so I need extra cash."

Darren nodded, then pulled a black box out of his pocket.

When he opened it, a delicately crafted diamond bracelet sparkled under the light.

"Yareli, thanks for helping me save Dahlia's kid. You've worked hard," he said.

I swallowed my hatred and forced a smile. "It's only natural to help a child."

Darren slipped the bracelet onto my wrist, then leaned in for a passionate kiss.

Back in the day, I would've kissed him back as I meant it. But now, I was just going through the motions, playing my part.

My eyes slipped right past him, settling on the display wall in our bedroom.

Dozens of designer bags and sparkling jewelry lined the shelves. Every single one a guilt offering from him after another mistake.

Guess I really was a fool. Only now did I finally get what they all meant.

I played coy and nudged Darren away. He didn't suspect a thing, just looked at me and said,

He said, "Yareli, Dahlia's been worrying herself sick over her kid these days. She says she's been craving your cooking. How about coming with me today to visit her and show off what you can do in the kitchen?"

I couldn't help but sneer to myself.

Actually, she cared for nothing.

Eliana was sick, but she hadn't bothered to set foot in the hospital even once. She kept milking her so-called illness for all it was worth, hanging onto Darren every chance she got.

Even Darren had barely bothered to show up at the hospital. Just once, and that was it.

I pushed down my feelings, figuring maybe I could finally get to the bottom of what was really making Eliana sick.

Half an hour later, Darren pulled up outside her villa.

As soon as he got out, Dahlia came running out, her voice dripping with sweetness.

"Darren, I thought you'd ditch me today," she cooed.

When she spotted me, she gave me a barely-there, teasing glance.

"Wow, Yareli, you actually showed up to take care of me? That's a first," she said.

I kept my expression neutral, giving her a dismissive glance.

"Darren and I are married. You're his brother's widow, so of course it's my duty to look after you," I replied.

I made sure to emphasize the word married, and I could see the jealousy in Dahlia's eyes deepen.

"Yareli, you really have it all together. I always need Darren's help," she said.

With that, Darren and Dahlia headed inside, joking around together like no one else was there.

"Darren, this orange is so sour. I don't want it anymore. You eat it," Dahlia pouted.

As soon as we walked in, I saw Dahlia feed Darren the rest of her orange, all flirty and close.

Darren just popped it into his mouth like it was the most normal thing in the world.

All these years together, he'd never touched my leftovers, not once.

Maybe he caught me watching, because Darren turned around and tried to play it off.

"I just didn't want to waste it, that's all. Don't mind me," he said.

Of course I didn't care. I'd stopped caring about him a long time ago.

Watching him scramble to explain himself, all nervous and guilty, I couldn't help but find it ridiculous.

He used to take care of his brother's widow as an excuse to flirt with Dahlia every single day. Honestly, feeding her fruit was probably him holding back.

It wasn't until he saw the bags of ingredients in my hands that he finally bothered to help me out.

"I didn't realize before. Hope it wasn't too heavy for you?" he said.

When we got out of the car, Darren was so caught up flirting with Dahlia that he totally forgot about the food in the trunk.

I replied calmly, "It's fine, I've got it covered. I'm going to Eliana's room to see if she has enough clothes for the hospital."

Seeing my gentle tone, Darren visibly relaxed and turned back to the living room to keep Dahlia company.

When I reached the second floor, my heart sank. Eliana's room was nothing but a cramped storage closet at the end of the hallway.

The space was tiny and damp, not even a real bed in sight. The thin blanket tossed on the floor couldn't keep out the cold at all.

The dim light barely touched the corners, and mice darted everywhere. Honestly, this was even worse than an orphanage.

A four-year-old survived in a place like this.

She was my baby, the one I carried for ten months and gave birth to.

They abuse her like this.

"So this is where you are," Dahlia said.

Her voice was dripping with self-satisfaction.

I spun around, but I hadn't even had time to wipe the tears from my face.

Seeing me like this only made her more excited.

"Pretty nice, right? This is the room I set up for that little wretch," she sneered.

I finally snapped. I lunged at her, grabbed her by the collar, and shoved her hard against the wall.

"Why the hell would you do this to her?" I yelled.

Dahlia flashed a wicked grin.

She said, "It seems you already know the brat is your child. I won't hide it from you. She got leukemia because I kept her in rooms with new furniture to absorb the formaldehyde."

Without me asking, she blurted it out herself. She's clearly relying on Darren to back her up.

That was the child I risked my life to bring into this world, and she treated her like she was nothing more than a stray dog or cat.

Just thinking about the child I'd longed for day and night, being tormented for four years. It felt like my heart was being ripped apart.

Blinded by grief and rage, I lost all sense of reason. I wanted to tear Dahlia limb from limb.

But just as I slammed Dahlia against the wall, someone kicked me so hard I hit the floor, pain shooting through me until I could barely get up.

"Dahlia. Are you okay?" Darren called out.

He anxiously checked her over, his brow furrowed tight with worry.

I stared at Darren, his face twisted with urgency, and couldn't believe he'd actually go that far against me.