Chapter 3

Andrew's call ended abruptly.

He must've gone to deal with the trouble that had come knocking.

I set down my coffee with a cold smile.

The first step in household scheming was the info war.

The moment I opened my eyes and absorbed Emily's memories, Andrew was nothing to me.

Emily was timid, but she had a habit of jotting everything down in her diary.

She kept track of every messy account Andrew left behind and every reckless thing he said in her pages, clear as day.

That diary was my best tool to shoot back.

The live-streamed apology was only the start.

The real game was beginning.

*****

The doorbell rang.

I spotted Jessica through the peephole.

She probably thought Andrew was home, hoping for comfort and a bit of shelter.

I opened the door.

Jessica froze for a moment when she saw me and then pushed her belly forward, flaunting her baby bump like a victor. "Emily, you—"

A sharp slap cut her off mid-sentence.

She clutched her cheek, staring at me in disbelief. "You dare hit me?"

"Hit you?" I sneered.

I towered over her, my gaze icy. "Where I come from, any mistress who dares to challenge the lady of the house gets twenty slaps and then has to stand in the family crypt for punishment."

"What do you mean by the lady of the house and mistress? Are you crazy?" Jessica screamed. "We live in a society governed by law. You're hurting me on purpose. I'm calling the cops."

"Go ahead." I folded my arms, looking completely unbothered. "Call them. Let the police take a good look at how a pregnant woman sneaks into the legal wife's house late at night.

"And let everyone judge whether that baby you're carrying is as innocent as you claim."

Jessica's face turned ashen right away.

My live stream had completely stripped off her innocent act.

Now, everyone online knew she was a shameless homewrecker, pretending to be a high-class socialite with a fake designer bag.

If she dared call the police, she'd only make a bigger fool of herself.

"Wh-What do you want from me?" Jessica's voice quivered, on the verge of tears.

"Nothing much." I stepped back and let her in. "I only want to lay down the rules for you."

I sat down on the couch and pointed to the spot in front of me. "Curtsy to me."

Jessica's eyes went wide with disbelief. "Curtsy? Emily, you're going too far."

"Too far?" I picked up my coffee and stirred it up with a spoon. "Andrew wants me as his wife and you as his mistress.

"According to my family rules, once you're here, you have to recognize me as the lady of the house.

"It's your duty to pay respects to me and tend to my every need.

"Today, I'll teach you the first rule. When you see me, you should give a curtsy."

Jessica was trembling with anger, tears welling up in her eyes. "Stop your daydreaming. Andrew loves me. He's about to divorce you, and I'll be the next lady of the house."

"Oh, really?" I set down my coffee with a soft clink. "But now, he can't even look out for himself.

"Even if that baby you're carrying could be born smoothly, it'll be a bastard, no matter whether it's a boy or a girl.

"Without my permission, your child won't get a name in the Grant family tree, let alone a share of the inheritance."

Every word I spoke lingered like a ghost from centuries past, haunting the halls of this modern mansion.

Jessica was baffled, obviously unable to wrap her head around the logic of such family status.

But she understood the last bit.

Her child would have no share of the inheritance.

That hit her like a fatal blow.

Her face turned from ghastly to livid and then ashen. Her lips quivered, but she couldn't say a word.

I stood up, walked over, and gently wiped the hand I'd slapped her with using a handkerchief. "Think having a baby will make you the lady of the house? You'd better pray you've got the luck for it.

"Now, curtsy to me and get me some coffee.

"Otherwise, get out. And don't dream about getting a single dollar from the Grant family."