Chapter 2

I quietly looked away. After six years of experiences like this, nothing fazed me anymore.

Melissa showed up at my house out of nowhere six years ago. I'd just found out I was a month pregnant, and Richard pulled some strings to get me a top-notch nutritionist—one who'd just come back from Loryn.

When I wasn't showing yet, Melissa would whip up all sorts of healthy meals for me, taking great care of me. However, as my belly grew, she suddenly vanished.

Richard said she had some family issues to deal with, so I didn't think much.

It wasn't until a month after I gave birth that Melissa showed up again.

To take better care of me, she moved right in.

However, Richard was a total neat freak. Any household chores related to him had to be done by me. Meals had to be cooked by me; clothes had to be washed by me.

I was busy around the house all day, while Melissa's only job was looking after the baby.

For the past six years, it had been like Melissa and I swapped roles. She was always looking immaculate, acting like she owned the place, way more like the real lady of the house than me.

Jeffrey was way more attached to her than to me.

I had even felt lucky, thinking I had found such a great nutritionist who cared for my child.

It wasn't until that night, when I was startled awake by strange noises coming from the bathroom, that I finally understood what was really going on.

Through the frosted glass, I could make out Richard and Melissa's tangled bodies, their voices low and repressed, words drifting in the steamy haze.

Richard murmured, "If Claire's child hadn't died before he was born, Jeffrey would never have had a chance to live such a luxurious life. What else do you want?

"Besides, living off her inheritance is enough to keep us comfortable for a lifetime. Just don't do anything reckless and make her suspicious."

Richard, clearly dissatisfied, bit down on Melissa's shoulder hard.

Melissa hissed, "For six years, I've been by your side with nothing. If her child hadn't died, you wouldn't even let me in this house, right?

"I don't care. Once you've got all the shares, you need to make it official. I want a proper place in your life."

Soft moans came from the bathroom, but Richard stayed silent, obviously dodging the topic.

I curled up beside my bed, tears falling silently down my face.

It turned out that my child was dead. For six years, I'd devoted myself to raising the child of my husband and his mistress, while they kept scheming for my money.

There was no way I was letting him take the company from me. And I was going to make him pay back every single thing he had taken for himself.

Richard had been scheming for six years, and in just a few days, the company would finally go public.

When that day came, I would have a gift ready for him—one he would wish he'd never received.

Maybe Richard noticed I'd zoned out for a little too long, because he handed me a glass of water.

He held my hand gently, looking at me with careful concern.

He said, "Claire, you've seemed really distracted lately.

"Is all the share transfer stuff stressing you out? If you're not up for it, it's okay."

He lowered his head, looking pretty down in the dumps.

Richard had his eyes on my shares as far back as six years ago. These days, he might have taken control of almost everything, but the biggest chunk was still in my hands.

Not long ago, after all his pestering, I finally agreed to his demands—only to discover everything I thought I knew was a lie.

I closed my eyes, calmed myself, then fixed my gaze on Richard, saying deliberately, "Nothing. I've just been thinking about a drama series I've been obsessed with lately."

His eyes lit up with curiosity, and he gestured for me to continue.

I said, "The husband let his wife raise the child he had with his mistress, and in the end, he stole all her possessions."

Richard's face twisted for a second, but then he instantly went into outrage. "What a jerk. Babe, you should stop watching these shows. They're just so boring."

He laughed and tried to ruffle my hair, but I brushed his hand away coolly, locking eyes with him.

I said, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I've always felt Jeffrey doesn't really look like me at all.

"He looks more like—"

I paused, then cast my gaze toward Melissa, who was feeding Jeffrey.

I continued, "He looks more like Melissa."