Chapter 2

Sophie feigned surprise as she grabbed a tissue to wipe my mouth, scrubbing so hard that my skin turned red.

"Are you crying because you're touched? Well, I get it. A man as loyal and decent as Derek, who still supports you after the divorce. Where else would you find one like that?"

"Exactly!"

The old hag chimed in from across the room.

"Evelyn, I'm not trying to be mean, but look at yourself. Look at the state you're in. How are you good enough for my son anymore? My son is a big boss now, worth tens of millions! He's only keeping you because he has a good heart. Any other man would've dumped you under a bridge a long time ago!"

A good heart?

I laughed coldly to myself.

So Derek's good heart meant seizing my company, my house, and my car, and then feeding me slop fit for pigs?

For Derek's sake, I had cut ties with my family over these past few years and given him every resource I had.

My parents were so angry that they swore they'd never speak to me again.

Now that I had fallen this low, I didn't have a single person to speak up for me.

"Oh, right, Sophie."

The old hag suddenly remembered something.

"Derek says the wedding is next month. You'd better get that belly of yours working and give the Sullivan family a big, healthy grandson soon. This Evelyn is a hen that won't lay eggs. All these years of marriage and not one child, boy or girl. Such rotten luck."

The reason I never had a child in our marriage was that Derek had said he wanted to start a business back then. He didn't want any distractions, so he made me get an abortion!

It damaged my body, and now it was very hard for me to get pregnant again.

And now that was being held against me?

Sophie stroked her flat stomach, a shy and smug smile on her face.

"Don't worry, Mom. Derek and I both got checked. We're perfectly healthy. Evelyn, on the other hand..."

She turned her head, her eyes fixed on me, dark and cold.

"Since Evelyn already signed, shouldn't she move out of the house? After all, this is Derek's and my new home. Having an ex-wife living down on the first floor is such bad luck. What if it jinxes our chances of having a baby?"

The old hag slapped her thigh.

"Yes! You're right! This cripple's got bad energy all over her! She can't stay here!"

"But..."

Sophie said, sounding a little troubled.

"Derek said he'd take care of her. If we kick her out, people will talk."

"What's so hard about that?"

The old hag's eyes darted around, and she grinned, showing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"Send her to a nursing home! Find a cheap one, the kind that costs a few hundred bucks a month. As long as someone's watching her so she doesn't starve, that's good enough. We'll tell everyone it's so she can get better professional care!"

"Mom, you're so smart!"

Sophie clapped her hands with exaggerated delight.

The two of them exchanged a look and laughed, the sound shrill and grating, like two vultures picking apart a carcass.

I closed my eyes and thought in despair: Maybe death would be a release.

But I couldn't die.

I clenched my jaw hard and swore with every ounce of strength I had: As long as I have one breath left in me, I will watch these two get what they deserve!

I was sent to a private nursing home on the outskirts of the city.

It called itself a nursing home, but it was really just a holding pen.

The rooms were dark and damp, the corners of the walls were moldy, and the air reeked of urine and that particular smell of decay that clung to the elderly.

I was dumped on a hard plank bed. I got only two meals a day: rice broth so thin you could see your reflection in it, and rolls as hard as rocks.

The caretaker was a short-tempered middle-aged woman. If I dirtied the sheets even a little, I'd get pinched and twisted for it.

The bedsores on my body festered, scabbed over, and then festered again.

Just when I thought I would rot to death that winter, Derek came.

That day, a brand-new black Maybach pulled up at the entrance of the nursing home.

Derek wore a perfectly tailored white suit, his hair slicked back until it shone.

He hadn't come alone. Behind him were several reporters carrying cameras, and Sophie.

"Evie, I came to see you."

Derek pushed open the shabby door and even waved a hand in front of his nose, unable to hide his disgust.

But he quickly rearranged his face into a look of heartbroken anguish. He rushed over and grabbed my bony, withered hand, and his eyes instantly went red.

"How could this happen? How has the caretaker been looking after you? I pay so much money every month, and this is how you treat my ex-wife?"

He turned to the cameras and roared. In that moment, he was practically Ex-Husband of the Year.

The reporters' flashes clicked away, capturing the touching scene.

"Mr. Sullivan is so loyal and decent. They're divorced, and he still takes such good care of his paralyzed ex-wife."

"I know. I heard he picked this nursing home himself because the air is so good here."

"That Evelyn is lucky to have a man like him."

Listening to them, all I wanted to do was laugh.

Good air? There was a chemical plant right next door!

Today Sophie wore a white Chanel suit and carried an Hermès Birkin bag. That was my bag! The limited edition I bought on a business trip to Paris!

She came over to me and tucked in the corner of my blanket with fake concern, speaking in a voice only the two of us could hear.

"Evelyn, do you see it clearly now? Everything you had is mine. The bag is mine, the car is mine, and the man... is mine too."

She pulled a bright red invitation out of her bag. The gold-foil lettering on it stung my eyes.

"Evelyn, next Wednesday is the big day for Derek and me. Derek says the wedding won't be complete without your blessing. We'll send a car to pick you up."

My eyes went wide as I stared at the invitation.

Derek walked over, wrapped an arm around Sophie's waist, and gave the cameras a happy smile.

"Friends in the media, even though Evie and I have reached the end of our road together, she will always be family to me. At my wedding next week, I hope Evie will attend as our wedding witness, to witness my happiness and to prove our commitment to taking care of her for the rest of her life!"

What a perfect script.

After he had drained me dry, he still wanted to use the last bit of value I had left to build his "perfect image."

If I went, I would cement his reputation as a loyal and decent man. If I didn't go, or if I died, then it would just be my own "bad luck."

He bent down and spoke softly in my ear, his tone bone-chillingly cold.

"Evelyn, you'd better cooperate when the time comes. Smile. If you dare screw this up for me, I'll stop your medication and let you die in agony."

With that, he planted a "loving" kiss on my forehead.

In that moment, my stomach churned, and I wished I could bite straight through his throat.

But he quickly straightened up, his arm around that young and pretty maid, and left surrounded by reporters like a victorious general.