Chapter 1
Three years into my marriage to Damian Caldwell, our once-a-week family gathering remained the only time we ever saw each other.
And today, even that ended abruptly-he rushed out halfway through.
Not long after, my phone rang. It was my best friend, Lydia Radcliffe, her voice urgent. "Aurora, check the trending list! Eleanor's sugar daddy just got exposed. Tell me I'm crazy-doesn't that look exactly like Damian?"
The moment I saw the trending topic, my heart throbbed with pain.
"The Mysterious Sugar Daddy Behind Eleanor Hartwell's Fame"
Though the photo only showed the blurred silhouette of a man's back, I confirmed it was Damian with one glance.
In the picture, he was walking into a hotel with Eleanor, his arm looped intimately around her slim waist. The wedding band gleamed on his finger like a cruel mockery, stabbing into my eyes.
Before I could even process it, two anonymous emails landed in my inbox.
I opened the first, and several high-definition photos came into my view.
In the first photo, Damian was down on one knee, cradling a cute girl in a puffy dress. Arms wrapped around his neck, she pecked his cheek, and he gave a doting smile.
In the second one, Eleanor was brushing dust off his shoulder. Instead of pulling away like he always did to me, he curved his lips into a soft, indulgent smile.
***
The dozens of photos made me realize-the reason for his increased indifference for the past three years wasn't his health regimen.
It was just that he had an affair.
My fists clenched so tight that my nails bit into my flesh. Taking a few deep breaths, I forced myself to calm down and opened the second email.
One single line stared back at me.
"Mrs. Caldwell, the choice is yours-either pay us 1.5 million dollars in hush money, or we go public."
"I'll pay."
I quickly replied and then used all the money in my bank account to buy out these photos that could ruin my husband and his mistress.
Ironically, the 1.5 million dollars was Damian's wedding gift for me.
Yet now, it was used to bury the proof of his infidelity.
I couldn't help staring at the little girl in the photo.
If my baby hadn't died, she would've been her age by now.
It was killing me to think that my baby was reduced to ashes in an urn before I could ever meet her.
I had drowned in agony after losing her. But Damian simply shrugged it off with a casual remark, "We'll just have another one."
But now, I knew we wouldn't.
After buying out the photos, I called Lydia. "Do you know any lawyers? I want a divorce."
Over my dead body would I stay with a man who betrayed me.
Lydia asked around and quickly called me back.
The lawyer drafted a divorce agreement. But since I didn't know exactly how many assets Damian had, the division of property couldn't be specified.
"It's fine. Send me the agreement first. I'll negotiate the terms with Damian," I told her.
The photos cost me 1.5 million dollars, but it was nothing compared to the reputation of the Caldwell Group's CEO.
With the photos, I surely held a strong upper hand in the negotiations over the property settlement.
I printed out the agreement, put it on the coffee table, and called Damian.
The call connected almost instantly-only it wasn't his voice.
"How may I help, Ms. Whitmore? Dami is tucking Maureen in."
Eleanor's gentle, sugary tone cut me like glass.
So, she knew about me.
I had assumed that Damian had lied to her about being single.
Turned out she knew he was married but stayed his mistress anyway!
Not bothering to waste energy on her, I said coldly, "Put Damian on the phone."
Chapter 2
"I'm sorry, Ms. Whitmore. Maureen won't let him leave her sight, so he's not available right now. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'll pass it along."
She still sounded so gentle.
Just then, Maureen's voice rang out. "Daddy, can I still see you after I wake up tomorrow? You always disappear before I realize it."
Damian coaxed her tenderly, "Of course, you can. I promise I'll still be here tomorrow morning."
My heart clenched with pain. I couldn't even remember the last time he had shown me such gentleness.
"Ms. Whitmore, do you need anything else? If not, we're going to rest now."
Eleanor's words dripped with feigned politeness-but every syllable was a dagger.
"Yes, I do," I said. "Tell Damian to come back and sign the divorce agreement!"
Eleanor fell silent, either out of disbelief or excitement.
I guessed it was excitement, though. After all, with me out of the picture, she could finally become Damian's wife.
I hung up and sat by the coffee table, waiting for Damian to come back.
A night had passed, yet he was still nowhere to be seen. Early in the morning, his assistant, Patricia Sutton, knocked on the door.
The moment Patricia entered the door, I sensed her hostility.
She had been his assistant for three years, and I could tell he was more than a boss to her.
Noticing the fatigue on my face, she said with a complacent grin, "Mr. Caldwell's kept you for nearly four years, and now, he's marrying Ms. Hartwell. It must be killing you, huh?"
Kept me?
I couldn't help but sneer inwardly.
Yes, what I had with Damian was a secret marriage.
Four years ago, the Caldwell family elders all strongly opposed our marriage due to my humble background.
Eventually, I caved and accepted that there'd be no wedding.
Other than our closest ones, no one knew we were a married couple.
Back then, Damian stroked my hair and apologized for the unfair treatment I'd endured. With distress in his eyes, he swore he'd throw me a grand wedding once he secured the inheritance of the Caldwell Group.
It had been so long since he secured the inheritance, yet he had never mentioned anything about the wedding.
So, till now, Patricia still thought I was his kept woman.
She said, looking all high and mighty, "Mr. Caldwell asked me to find out who posted those photos online. And you know what? Everything tracked back to Polaris Media. You're the editor-in-chief of the Entertainment Department. Don't tell me you know nothing about it."
Could Damian be any more shameless?
He cheated on me. Instead of explaining to me, he put the blame on me?
I said expressionlessly, "It wasn't me."
Patricia snorted, "Save it. The proof is right in your face. I suggest you own up to it and leave Mr. Caldwell before he dumps you. Imagine how humiliating that would be."
Just then, I stood up and slapped her in the face.
Stunned, she covered her cheek and looked at me in great disbelief.
I tossed the divorce papers in front of her and turned around. "You don't get a say in things between Damian and me. Get out!"
She gaped at the divorce papers.
"You're married to Mr. Caldwell?"
Then she realized Damian was with Eleanor. Gritting her teeth, she smiled coldly with hatred, "Mr. Caldwell has put me in charge. If you keep denying you're the one who leaked the photos, go to the family chapel and stay there to think about what you've done. Don't come out until you're ready to admit your mistake. After all, Ms. Hartwell is still crying because of the scandal."
Utterly pissed off, I let out a derisive laugh.
Damian cheated on me.
And I ended up being the one who made a mistake?
Chapter 3
She continued, "Or feel free not to go. Just a friendly reminder-the cardiopulmonary support system keeping your vegetative mom alive is developed by the Caldwell Group. It won't be released for another month. Before that, Mr. Caldwell can have his man pull the plug at any moment. Your mom will be left to die."
Damian was even more ruthless than I had imagined.
He knew so well that my mom was the only blood family I had left in this world.
Eventually, I compromised and entered the family chapel.
The faint scent of cedarwood filled the air, just as inescapable as Damian's presence.
At this precise moment, I was much more clear-headed than ever-I wanted a divorce.
The maid, Shelly Mitchel, was utterly anxious. She begged Patricia, "Ms. Sutton, please, could you let Mrs. Caldwell out? The chapel is so cold. She'll freeze!"
My baby passed away three years ago. After offering me a few lukewarm words of comfort, Damian flew around the world, claiming it was for work.
What he never knew was that I spent countless nights in the chapel, praying to see my child just one more time.
Instead of resting and recovering, I devoted my days and nights to prayer, barely eating a thing. It was then that my health began to fail, and I grew weak and frail.
To make matters worse, it was the rainy season. The relentless dampness seeped into my bones, and it wasn't long before I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis.
Even the doctors were perplexed. How did someone so young develop such a disease?
They told me it was irreversible. On rainy days, I could only rely on medication to get through the pain.
Even Shelly knew about this, yet Damian had no idea.
Patricia coldly turned around, ignoring Shelly's plea. Biting her lip, Shelly said to me, "I'll call Mr. Caldwell now!"
Enduring the searing pain in my knees, I said through gritted teeth, "No. Don't call him, Shelly."
I didn't tell him before because I didn't want to upset him.
But now? I simply didn't feel the need.
Because he wouldn't feel sad for me at all.
Shelly stubbornly called him anyway.
As the call came through, a little girl's childish voice rang out. "Who is it? Daddy is accompanying Mommy to buy clothes."
I let out a self-mocking laugh.
It had been ages since Damian changed his phone passcode. He'd never let me so much as touch it.
I used to think he hated anyone violating his privacy.
It never occurred to me that he simply didn't want me near it. His mistress and their daughter, on the other hand, could have it whenever they pleased.
Hearing the girl's words, Shelly was dumbfounded. She quickly checked the number again and confirmed it was Damian's.
Upon seeing the look on my face, she instantly knew what was going on and hung up.
I curved my lips into a smile, yet my eyes were devoid of any emotion.
Soon, my strength gave way entirely. My legs buckled and I collapsed, my knees hitting the floor with a thud. Seeing blood oozing from my knees, Patricia smiled coldly and turned to leave.
Just before closing the door, she clapped her hands mockingly. "Good job admitting your mistake. As your reward, I won't report this to Mr. Caldwell."
As soon as she was gone, Shelly rushed to my side and helped me back to my room.
Every step I took sent a sharp, stabbing pain through my feet, as if I were walking on knives.
Shelly said indignantly in a sobbing voice, "How could Mr. Caldwell do this to you, forcing you to stay in the chapel for hours while buying clothes with his mistress? And the little girl..."
Finding it too shameful to continue, she fell silent and just looked at me worriedly.
Chapter 4
I forced a weak smile. "Shelly, could you fetch the first aid kit for me?"
Soon, familiar footsteps rang out outside the door.
Damian was back.
His conversation with Shelly reached my ears.
"What's with the first aid kit?" he asked.
"Mrs. Caldwell was in the chapel all night. She fell to the floor, and her knees are bleeding."
"Is she that fragile?"
Obviously, Damian was suspicious that Shelly and I joined hands to win his sympathy.
Bracing herself, Shelly said, "Ms. Sutton picked on Mrs. Caldwell. She wouldn't let Mrs. Caldwell sit or rest."
Damian's tone turned cold. "Who gave her permission to do that?"
Shelly braced herself and asked back, "Wasn't it you?"
What followed was a moment of silence. Then Damian said in a cold tone, leaving no room for refusal, "Patricia, go to Finance tomorrow to get your final check. You're fired."
After hanging up, he walked into my room with the first aid kit.
He sat by the bed, keeping a straight face.
Then he held my ankles and rested my calves on his thigh.
"This is gonna hurt. Bear with it."
His gaze darkened as he stared at the dried blood on my knees. Then he took out a few iodine swabs and gently disinfected my wounds.
Those photos had shattered every last bit of hope I held for him. Otherwise, that focused expression of his would have once made me believe I was staring at the Damian from the past-the one who had loved me so deeply.
But he was with Eleanor all night last night.
Over the past three years, maybe they had already spent countless nights together under the guise of his so-called business trips.
The mere thought made my stomach churn. I immediately pulled away my legs and sat away from him, disinfecting my wounds by myself.
A sharp pain shot through me, reminding me my time with Damian had come to an end.
Not looking into his eyes, I lowered my head and applied gauze to my knees while saying, "Damian, let's get a divorce."
It was a decision I made after a night of agonizing thought, one so painful it felt like I was cutting away a piece of myself. However, Damian didn't even arch his eyebrow after hearing this.
His cold, handsome face remained expressionless. "A divorce? Could you bear to leave me?"
His reaction made sense. After all, I'd known him since the Whitmore family took me in when I was five. From that moment on, I became his shadow, following him everywhere he went.
He looked at me with disdain. "I know you said this out of spite. But once is enough. Be careful what you wish for-what if I say yes the next time?"
Enduring the great bitterness in my heart, I asked him sarcastically, "You already have a daughter with another woman. What makes you think I wouldn't leave you?"
Squinting, he studied me in a scrutinizing gaze. "You knew?"
I pulled out a bitter smile, my voice nasal. "Your daughter is, what, three years old or so, isn't she? In other words, Eleanor gave birth shortly after our baby passed away. Right?"
Damian's icy eyes flickered for a second. He didn't admit it, nor did he deny it.
The silence was almost oppressive.
After a long time, he frowned. "Does Maureen's existence bother you that much?"
What a ridiculous question.
I smiled feebly, "No, if her existence is just to satisfy your desire to be called 'Daddy'."
Suddenly, he walked over to me, braced his hands on my sides, and trapped me in his arms.
I tried to push him away, but I was so weak that he barely moved.
He leaned even closer, his usually cold voice now strangely captivating. In a low, intimate whisper, he breathed into my ear, "And yet, I love it more than anyone when you call me 'Daddy'."
Chapter 5
I blushed at once.
Before his health regimen took over, our time in bed was just as passionate as any normal couple's.
Sometimes, things had gone so wild that he'd force me to call him "Daddy".
Now that I thought about it, I regretted it so much that I wished I could vanish into thin air.
My heated cheeks obviously satisfied Damian a lot. He smiled, "It seems you haven't forgotten a bit."
I bit my lip, overwhelmed by shame.
But as I looked at his familiar yet foreign face, a sense of release struck me.
I said exceptionally calmly and slowly, "Damian, we can never go back. Whatever happened between us, our paths will never cross again."
A strange look flickered across his handsome face.
He straightened up, no longer trapping me in his embrace. Rather, he looked down at me and said condescendingly, "Stop playing hard to get. It won't work. Just stick to your role as Mrs. Caldwell."
I could no longer hold back and was about to use the 1.5 million dollars as leverage to negotiate with him.
Presumably, that would be enough to let him know I was serious about divorcing him.
"Damian, sign the divorce papers, and we'll part ways amicably. Or I'll..."
His phone rang before I could continue.
He answered and said in a gentle tone, "Yes, I'm at home. Alright."
After hanging up, he said to me, "Your parents are on their way."
My words stuck in my throat.
To be more precise, they were my adoptive parents, but they'd always thought of me as their own daughter.
I decided to discuss divorce with Damian after they left.
Or things would be awkward when they came here.
Noticing my silence, Damian no longer said a word and went to the chapel.
I entered the kitchen to prepare lunch together with Shelly.
***
My adoptive parents, Helena Whitmore and Alexander Whitmore, arrived at noon.
"Dad, Mom, hello. Take a seat while I set the table."
I forced a smile, pretending everything was fine.
Seeing that I was limping, Helena asked with concern, "What happened to your legs?"
Not wanting them to notice anything wrong, I stuck out my tongue and said casually, "I fell."
Alexander shook his head. "Aurora, you're not a little girl anymore. When can you learn to be more careful? Did you go to the hospital?"
"Yes. The doctor said there was nothing serious," I immediately said perfunctorily.
Looking around, Helena asked, "Where's Damian?"
My face stiffened a little at the mention of his name. "He's in the chapel. I'll go get him."
But Alexander quickly stopped me and said a bit carefully, "No. We'll wait."
Detecting his humble tone, I couldn't help but feel bitter.
Though the Whitmore family and the Caldwell family went way back, Walter Whitmore, Alexander and Helena's son, wasn't cut out for business. His poor management led to the steady decline of the family's fortunes, resulting in their recent fall from the elite class of Calverton.
On the contrary, since Damian took over the Caldwell family business, the Caldwell Group had skyrocketed. He went on a merger spree, vastly expanding the family's business empire.
Over the years, without the Caldwell Group's support, the Whitmore Group would have been crushed by its opponents already.
This explained why Alexander and Helena now treaded so carefully-even obsequiously-around Damian.
Though they were his elders, they treated him with a deference that did not befit their status.
Perhaps it was because I upset him today. It had been almost two hours since my parents' arrival, and I had sent Shelly to urge him, but he was still in the chapel.
It made me wonder if he was deliberately keeping them waiting.
Sensing something, Helena said worriedly, "Aurora, I saw the news yesterday about Eleanor's bankroller. The photo... It didn't show his face, but the silhouette looked like Damian to me. Was it ... him?"
Chapter 6
My heart skipped a beat, and my nose twitched. Tears welled up in my eyes.
Just then, Shelly rushed into the living room. "Mr. Caldwell's here."
Damian's arrival cut short Helena mid-sentence.
He was as refined and polite as ever, yet an innate condescension laced his tone. "My apologies for keeping you waiting, Alexander, Helena."
I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, he didn't give them the cold shoulder and spared them the embarrassment.
"No need to apologize. We just got here and were chatting with Aurora.
"If you're busy, go ahead. Don't mind us," Helena said with a smile.
I lowered my head. "Let's go, Mom. Lunch is ready."
Damian sat at the head of the table.
My parents and I were seated to his right and left.
Alexander carefully glanced at him, hesitant to speak.
"Damian... Can I ask a favor? I..."
Everything-from his tone to his attitude-suggested cringe.
Damian said flatly, "I know the Whitmore Group has been facing some difficulties. You don't need to sweat about the funds. Did you bring the contract?"
Alexander quickly nodded. "Yes, I did."
Damian said, "I'll sign it later, and Aurora will mail it to you tomorrow. The funds will be transferred to the Whitmore Group by this Friday at the latest."
Alexander and Helena obviously seemed a lot relieved.
They smiled and kept thanking him with the look of a great weight being lifted from their shoulders.
"Aurora is my wife. It's only right that I give the Whitmore family a hand when necessary."
Hearing this, Helena was no longer worried.
She had always been the straightforward type, not a fan of beating around the bush.
"It's such a relief to see how in love you and Aurora are," she said with a smile. "You know what? I saw a photo of Eleanor's bankroller on the news yesterday, and I was so sure it was you. Can you believe it? I was so worried I barely slept a wink last night."
Both Damian and I instantly went stiff, and I quickly changed the subject.
After Alexander and Helena left, I slipped the drafted divorce agreement onto the last page of the contract and brought it to the study.
***
In the study, Damian was in front of the computer, dealing with work emails.
The warm yellow light accentuated his chiseled facial outline, reminding me how much I'd loved watching him in rapt attention.
I sighed softly and placed the contract in front of him, "This is the contract from my dad. If you have a moment, could you sign it now?"
He glanced at me, obviously satisfied with my obedient demeanor. He said with a smile, "It turns out you do know when to stop."
"Yes. Thank you for helping my family," I said, suppressing the bitterness deep down.
Before signing the contract, he said, "Oh, and one more thing. With all the paparazzi lately, I'm thinking of bringing Eleanor and Maureen to stay here for a while. Eaststone Heights is the most secure gated community in town, so it'd be safer for them."
A sense of suffocation overwhelmed me.
I actually forgot that Damian was a shrewd businessman.
Every gift from him came at an equal cost.
There was a price tag on the favor he had done for my family.
I nodded. "Alright."
He continued, "They can take the master bedroom. It'll be better for Maureen..."
"You don't have to explain. I get it," I interrupted him. "I'll move to the guest bedroom."
Even my husband no longer belonged to me. Why would I give a damn about a bedroom?
Then I pushed the contract closer to him and urged, "Can you sign it now? My dad's waiting."
He signed it without saying another word.
As time ticked away, I grew more and more nervous.
The last page was the divorce agreement I'd prepared.
Chapter 7
Luckily, Damian trusted me, at least a little.
He lifted the corner of every page and signed his name in all the required places without even reading the contract.
I felt a wave of complete relief once he had signed the divorce agreement.
Not wanting any surprises, I took the contract away the moment he capped his pen.
Back in the master bedroom, I took out the signed divorce agreement and hid it in a book.
The cooling-off period was a month.
***
That very night, I was ready to move out of the master bedroom.
When he entered and saw me limping and packing, he stopped me.
"Leave it with Shelly and the others."
His tone was relatively gentle. "Once all this paparazzi trouble dies down, Maureen and Eleanor will move out, and you can move back here.
"Don't worry. They won't stay here for long."
I scoffed while glancing at the serious look on his face, "Gee, I can't tell you how grateful I am. Thank you for your kindness."
His expression turned cold right away.
Since I was only moving to the guest bedroom, I didn't pack much.
Apart from some skincare products and clothes, the most important item was an urn kept on top of the wardrobe.
I didn't ask for anyone's help. Instead, I stood on a chair and carefully brought the urn down.
The little girl in the photo was the apple of Damian's eye, and what was inside this urn was my most precious treasure.
But unlike other children, mine was denied a carefree life. She'd stay in this urn forever, never feeling the warmth of the sunshine.
When I retrieved the urn, Damian was on the balcony talking on the phone with his assistant. They were devising a plan to bring Eleanor and Maureen back without alerting the paparazzi.
After hanging up, he came back and saw me holding the urn.
Frowning with displeasure, he asked, "Why are you holding this?"
His deep-set eyes were tinged with a hint of confusion.
Looking at him, I couldn't help but wonder, "What if my baby hadn't died?
"Would Damian still have had an affair?
"Would my baby have been the apple of his eye?"
But I quickly shook my head to dismiss the thought. It simply wasn't worth consuming myself over a jerk.
Saying nothing, I was about to step out. Just then, Damian grabbed my wrist and asked, "I'm asking you a question. Why are you holding this?"
I looked at him coldly and said, "Because it's the only thing that belongs to me in this house."
Perhaps my words had stirred some last vestige of conscience in Damian. He gradually loosened his grip.
I moved to the guest bedroom, placed the urn in the safest spot, and stared at it for a long, long time...
The next noon, Eleanor and Maureen were taken back to the villa.
Shelly had just made lunch. Though the table was filled with exquisite dishes, everything was vegetarian.
Eleanor and Maureen were obviously not used to it. But to please Damian, Eleanor pretended that she loved the food. She even went from coaxing to coercing Maureen into eating it.
I couldn't help but scoff inwardly. So much for the so-called A-list celebrity.
It was such a relief that she wasn't my idol.
After tasting several dishes, Damian set down his fork and asked Shelly with a frown, "Were the ingredients flown in today? The bread tastes different, too."
Shelly glanced at me helplessly before explaining to him, "Mrs. Caldwell used to do all the cooking, including baking the bread. She always mixed the ingredients to her exact proportions and followed her specific recipe. She's not feeling well today, so I baked the bread. Though I managed to mimic its appearance, I couldn't recreate the flavor."
It never occurred to Damian that the food would taste so different with another person cooking.
Chapter 8
He stared at me for a long time, his gaze meaningful, but I still didn't offer to take over the cooking again.
After all, who'd waste her time and effort taking care of a man that was never hers?
Damian was too proud and high-and-mighty to ask me to keep cooking vegetarian food for him.
But he was also a picky eater. He called his assistant and ordered, "Find me a cook who excels at vegetarian cuisine. Money isn't an issue. I want to have them start tomorrow."
Eleanor had appeared timid and quiet throughout the whole time.
She finally spoke up, "Ms. Whitmore, I know you're upset with me. It's a bit inappropriate for me to take Maureen to move in like this..."
I interrupted her and said flatly, "Oh? So, you do know how inappropriate it is. Yet you still shamelessly moved in anyway. Is there really no other place for you in this world besides my home with Damian? It seems you can't live without wrecking someone else's marriage, Eleanor."
Her expression changed a few times at my harsh words. She instinctively wanted to retort, but she held it back and just looked at Damian through tears.
I was the only one who saw her clenched fists under the table.
Though Maureen was just a little girl, she sensed the hostility in my tone.
Scared, she ran toward Damian, sat on his lap, and asked timidly, "Daddy, who is she? She's so mean."
"Don't be afraid, Maureen. She ... isn't a bad person."
Damian shot me a warning glance. But with Eleanor's presence, he didn't snap at me.
Perhaps he felt a bit guilty. After all, he brazenly took Eleanor and Maureen back into our home right under my nose, and I behaved so "cooperatively", not making a scene at all.
That was why he didn't dare push his luck further. Could he really expect me to not only accept them but also welcome them with a smile?
Failing to sow discord, Eleanor obviously was displeased. She couldn't even continue to pretend her interest in the table full of vegetarian food.
I couldn't help but sneer inwardly.
It had been three years since Damian became a vegan, and I, who used to be a total meat-lover, had followed his diet for three years as well.
Now that Eleanor wanted to snatch him away, she couldn't even make such a small sacrifice?
I was full. I set down my fork and left the table under their gazes, mixed with different emotions.
Back at the guest bedroom, I took a deep breath and looked around at the place where I had lived for almost four years now.
Only guests stayed in the guest bedroom, right? A guest-that was exactly what I was now.
Since I didn't sleep at all last night, I wanted to take a nap. Just then, someone knocked on the door.
I opened it and saw Eleanor standing outside.
With a big bag in her hand, she said, "Sorry, Ms. Whitmore. It's your wedding photo with Dami in the bag. He didn't want Maureen to see it, so I'll have to trouble you to put it away."
"Don't bother. Toss it into the trash," I said deadpan.
Then I was about to close the door.
Failing to rile me up, Eleanor wasn't going to give up just like that.
She quickly held the door frame and said softly, "Ms. Whitmore, Maureen is a secret between Dami and me. We ... have our reasons. You really don't have to be so upset. Once Maureen and I leave, you can still hang the photo back up."
A secret?
She made it sound like they were the victims, and I was the villain who stood in their way.
Not bothering to waste my time on her, I grabbed the bag and tossed it onto the floor.
Chapter 9
The glass frame inside the bag shattered. Hearing the sound, Eleanor instinctively looked at me. Not spotting any sadness or regret, she seemed stunned.
Perhaps to her, I was a bitter woman who was dumped by my husband.
I was supposed to crouch on the floor, crying miserably while holding the glass shards.
I glanced at the bag sideways before saying, "The photo's now taken care of. Is that all? What else do you want me to put away? Perhaps the bed in the master bedroom that I shared with Damian?"
Eleanor was rendered speechless, her delicate features almost twisting with anger.
I slammed the door shut in her face.
Then I placed the bag by the door, not even bothering to take a look at the wedding photo inside.
I'd have Shelly throw it away later.
After waking up from my nap, I started scrolling through Instagram.
Just then, a profile picture caught my eye.
It was Maureen's photo.
Obviously, it was Eleanor's account.
I knew I should've ignored it.
But, driven by impulse, I clicked on it anyway.
Eleanor was surely an A-list star, fiercely protective of her privacy. There wasn't a single photo of her with Damian and Maureen-not even a solo shot of herself.
Yet, the faces of Damian and Maureen were crystal clear. For every milestone and celebration, there was a whole collection of photos, each accompanied by thoughtful captions.
When I was pregnant, I spent a lot of time fantasizing about Damian being a father.
The cruel irony was that it was his mistress who ended up bringing that fantasy to life.
I kept scrolling, wanting to know when his affair had begun.
My finger hovered mid-air as I saw a specific date.
It wasn't the day he first betrayed me, but it was the most devastating day of my life.
I remembered clearly. At the end of the year before last, my mother's condition suddenly worsened.
Having already been in a vegetative state, she suffered multiple organ failure overnight, her life hanging by a thread.
The doctor told me a newly developed type of medical device could completely replace her blood while providing cardiac and respiratory support. If applied in time, it might save the day.
As it turned out, the device was developed by the Caldwell Group.
It hadn't hit the market at that time and could only be obtained through internal channels.
I had thought getting the device would be easy-peasy for Damian.
But after I told him about it on the phone, he said, "Tell the doctor to treat her at all costs. Money isn't an issue. I got an urgent business matter to attend to, so I gotta go."
He hung up without waiting for my reply.
But making money was the easiest thing in the world for Damian.
I suppose I was like his money in that way-he came by both of us so easily that he never learned to hold either dear.
Till today, I still remembered how desperate I was after he hung up. What could possibly be more important than my mother's life?
It wasn't until now that I knew his so-called "urgent business matter" was taking Maureen to the amusement park.
While I was desperate and alone in Calverton, he was in the largest amusement park in Dreswick with his mistress and illegitimate daughter.
Later, Walter managed to obtain the device, saving my mother's life.
But I'd never shake the despair or the terror of losing her any second.
Suppressing the white-hot rage and gut-wrenching pain, I quickly turned on my laptop, took screenshots of Eleanor's Instagram posts, and saved the photos.
Everything she'd ever used to provoke me would be the proof I used to confront Damian in court.
Staring at the photos, I suddenly remembered Damian saying yesterday that the leaked photos had come from Polaris Media, the company I worked at.
Chapter 10
How was that possible?
I was the editor-in-chief. No content could be published without my authorization.
Had Damian made a mistake? Or someone in my department had done something behind my back?
Just then, someone knocked on the door.
Damian pushed it open and entered before I could respond.
He tossed his phone onto the bed in front of me, demanding, "How long are you gonna keep this up?"
Puzzled, I picked up the phone, only to discover that a new set of photos of Eleanor had been leaked-again.
Just like before, there was nothing but a blurry silhouette of Damian.
Compared to the photos, the repeated leaks themselves were the bigger problem-they felt ill-intentioned.
I looked at him and said in a barely audible voice, "It wasn't me. Could you trust me for once?"
Suddenly, Maureen ran into the room, her face smeared with tears. "Daddy, Mommy's leaving! Please stop her!"
Damian's expression instantly became grim. He picked her up and hurried out.
I followed him to the living room, wanting to clarify things with him.
He was trying to stop Eleanor from leaving.
Meanwhile, Maureen grabbed Eleanor's hand, begging her not to leave while crying pitifully.
I stood aside in silence, watching the family of three.
Netizens always dismissed Eleanor as nothing but a pretty face, claiming even a block of wood would out-act her.
But, from what I witnessed, she had great acting skills-she burst into tears so easily, with her eyes reddening and her voice trembling to perfection.
"Dami, let me go. I really can't stand it anymore," she said, tears streaming down her face, "If this goes on, it's only a matter of time before my reputation is down the drain."
Before Damian could say anything, I ridiculed with a cold smile, "Says the mistress who moves into the other's house with her illegitimate daughter."
"Aurora, shut up!" Damian snapped.
Then he turned to Eleanor, his tone softening. "I'll handle this. You can't leave. Maureen needs you."
Maureen was genuinely terrified that Eleanor would leave just like this. She said through tears, "Mommy, if you're really going to leave, take Daddy and me with you. OK?"
Pointing at me, she said with a pout, "She's so mean. I don't want to stay with her."
Eleanor scooped Maureen up, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Sweetie, I don't wanna leave you. But..."
I looked at Damian and said flatly, "No one has to leave. Get a lawyer to come here to inventory our marital assets tomorrow. I'll take what's mine and leave. Then your baby girl won't be frightened any longer."
Damian was driven to the corner. Besides, both Eleanor and Maureen clearly didn't want to see me here. I figured he'd agree at once now that I offered to leave.
To my surprise, he said firmly, his gaze darkening, "You're not going anywhere before I get to the bottom of this."
I was a bit disappointed, but apparently, Eleanor was even more so.
Of course, she wasn't serious about leaving. After keeping up her act for a while, she "reluctantly" agreed not to leave.
***
When it was about dinner time, Shelly knocked on the door and tentatively said, "Mrs. Caldwell, dinner's ready. Would you like me to bring it inside?"
I knew she overheard our argument in the living room in the afternoon and didn't want them to team up against me again.
But I'd never accept being falsely accused.
A part of me screamed to leak all the photos so that everyone could see Damian's face clearly.
But since I didn't do it, I wouldn't own up to it.
I opened the room door and went to the dining room.
Eleanor was surprised to see me.
Damian sat at the head of the table with Eleanor and Maureen on his sides.
It seemed there wasn't a seat for me.
