Chapter 2

The next day, I took a taxi home to get my documents.

But after entering the code three times, the system kept showing an error.

The property manager hurried over, clipboard in hand.

"Miss Miller, Mr. Black gave instructions — you'll be granted access once you sign and admit fault."

"This is my house."

"The property records now list Mr. Black and Miss Reed."

My hands went ice cold.

This house was the premarital asset my mother had prepared for me. Every piece of furniture inside, she had chosen herself.

The South District property deed was in the Black family vault.

When we married, Adrian said keeping it with him would be safer.

I never imagined that one day, getting my own things back would require bowing to him first.

My phone screen lit up.

Adrian.

"Want to get into the apartment? Come to the press conference and apologize publicly."

I arrived at the venue ten minutes before it started.

I had to get back what my mother left me.

When he saw me, Adrian handed over the apology script.

"After you apologize today, I'll have Mom transferred to the best rehabilitation hospital."

I skimmed it.

It stated that due to my paranoid personality disorder, I had repeatedly harassed and harmed Sophia; that he had frozen the accounts to protect family assets.

I looked at him.

"The critical condition notice was sent to you that night."

That familiar flicker of impatience crossed his brow.

"Enough. How long are you going to keep up this act?"

I almost laughed.

If he had just checked with the nurses' station once, he would have known I wasn't lying.

But he refused to believe me.

So every piece of evidence would be treated as part of my performance.

I asked: "When does the vault open?"

"Apologize first."

"And the South District house?"

"Sophia wants it. Once the gallery conversion is done, I'll leave you a room upstairs."

"That's my mother's home."

He frowned.

"I don't have time to argue with you right now."

Sophia walked up to the cameras and extended her hand toward me.

"Emma, read the script, and I'll withdraw the injury report."

She lowered her voice, her smile warm and gentle.

"After all, it's not my mother's only legacy that's being taken away."

My head snapped up.

She knew. Of course she knew.

I took the script and walked onto the stage.

The cameras pointed at me. The audience was packed with media, Black Group employees, and outer-circle family members.

I began: "I'm Emma Miller. Over the past year, I smashed Adrian Black's car, broke into Black Group, and physically attacked Sophia Reed at the hospital."

Adrian's expression gradually softened.

He thought I'd finally been tamed.

"Today, I apologize to everyone I frightened."

Sophia's lips curved upward.

I continued: "But not to her."

I pulled out the test results I had taped back together.

"Because Sophia Reed was never pregnant."

The cameras zoomed in. The room erupted.

Sophia lunged at me.

"You fabricated evidence!"

I stepped back.

"The test results have the hospital's seal. If you don't believe it, we can pull the medical records right now."

"Kill the livestream."

Adrian's voice came from off-screen.

His gaze on me could have drawn blood.

"Emma, you promised you'd stop making scenes."

"She's the one who lied."

I thought he would at least react. Just a little.

But all he said, perfectly calm, was: "So what? She was just afraid of losing me. You humiliated her in public — you got what you deserved."

I looked at him.

"So the truth doesn't matter at all. What matters is that she's Sophia. Isn't that right?"

He was silent for two seconds.

"The truth doesn't excuse your violence either."

Sophia hooked her arm through his.

"Adrian, I don't think Emma is actually sorry."

Adrian pushed a document in front of me.

"Sign. Apologize."

"You promised me. The vault has my mother's things."

His tone was indifferent.

"Then have her come get them herself."

He paused, then added:

"On the condition that you apologize to Sophia publicly first."

I asked: "And if I don't?"

He glanced at his watch.

"I'm giving you one chance. If you don't apologize by nine tomorrow morning, I'll transfer the South District house directly to Sophia."

He leaned back in his chair, perfectly assured.

"And then you won't even have the right to keep a single room."