Chapter 1

To pay off Derek’s debts, I took the dirtiest, most exhausting job in the kitchen of our son’s elite preschool: washing dishes.

Hands that once wore multi-million-dollar diamonds were now soaked in icy water every single day, skin burned and rotted by industrial bleach and rubber gloves.

On the preschool's Family Day, I left the kitchen during my break for the first time, wanting to surprise my son.

Around him, other kids were eating artisan cakes brought by their parents. My son, Ian, was curled up in a corner, chewing on a rotting, maggot-infested apple.

My face went pale. I rushed over, but the moment he saw me, he flashed me a bright, innocent smile.

"Mommy! This is the best treat Daddy ever gave me!"

For the first time in seven years, I abandoned my shift and raced back home.

The moment I stepped inside, designer dresses lay scattered across the floor. From the master bedroom came a woman’s sultry whimper:

"Derek, baby... when are you finally buying me that diamond ring you promised?"

"Eleanor barely brings home any cash every month, and I make sure that little bastard Ian eats garbage every day. Be patient, babe. Once I save enough, it’s all yours."

I stared down at the expensive designer belt discarded by the doorway. A bone-chilling cold swept over me.

Every sacrifice I had made over these seven years was nothing but a sickening joke.

Just then, the phone in my pocket buzzed violently, then fell silent.

Over ten thousand missed calls on the screen. All from the exact same number.

Staring at those digits, for the first time, my resolve finally shattered.

I rushed back to the preschool. With the Family Day event going on, dirty dishes piled up like mountains. My lower back screamed in agony, and I was barely halfway through the sink.

Sudsy foam covered my forearms when Ian’s teacher came sprinting into the kitchen, screaming in panic:

"Eleanor! Your son just collapsed!"

My heart stopped. I ran into the classroom to find a tiny body convulsing on the floor, white foam bubbling from his lips.

The other children stood far away, pinching their noses in disgust.

Blind with panic, I threw myself onto the floor beside him, screaming for someone to call 911 while desperately trying to shake him awake.

When I looked up, neither the teachers nor the parents moved an inch.

"Eleanor, you know what today is," the head teacher said coldly. "The most influential ladies in the city are outside. If we cause a scene, we can’t afford the fallout."

"Besides, your kid is only here on a staff-courtesy pass because you work in the kitchen. He brought that food from home. The school bears zero liability."

Thunder cracked outside, the flash illuminating Ian’s deathly pale face.

I didn't have time to argue. I scooped Ian into my arms and bolted out the door.

Sour vomit spilled from his mouth, soaking my chest. He whimpered incoherently, crying that his stomach burned.

With trembling hands, I dialed Derek, praying over and over again, only to be answered by the cold, mechanical hum of an automated voicemail.

When the last bar of battery drained and the screen went black, I froze in the downpour.

My overworked arms burned with agonizing spasms. In my arms, my boy was slipping away, his breathing so faint he felt weightless.

High-society women gathered under the awning, watching the spectacle. I begged them one by one, only to be shoved aside in disgust.

"Get away from me, you filthy beggar! Don't you dare ruin my outfit! Do you have any idea what this is? This ring is from Sterling Jewels' newest private collection—the only piece in the entire city besides old Mrs. Sterling's!"

"I saw that at the private auction," another sneered. "It went for tens of millions!"

I stared blankly at the ring glistening on her finger.

Not long ago, I had seen that exact piece.

It was a sketch sitting on Derek’s desk.

I had merely glanced at it, and Derek had flown into a blind rage, banning me from touching his work for two weeks.

Sterling Jewels... Derek Sterling.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The clues had been screaming in my face the whole time, yet I had been so blindingly in love that I ignored every single one.

The Sterling family built their empire on luxury jewelry. Their limited-edition collections were rabidly hunted by every socialite in town.

I looked down at the pale scar on my ring finger.

When Derek proposed to me, he used a piece of rusted wire he had bent into a loop.

I treasured that piece of scrap metal for an entire year, refusing to take it off until the jagged edges tore through my flesh, leaving an ugly scar.

Worthless junk. Yet in exchange, it bought seven years of my unconditional devotion.

Pulling myself together, I let out a hollow laugh. Right before their stunned eyes, my knees slammed against the cold pavement.

Completely broken, I knelt before the crowd of socialites, begging them to save my baby.

Finally, unable to stomach the sight any longer, someone dialed for an ambulance.

Ian was rushed straight into the trauma unit. I collapsed onto the hospital floor, numb.

It wasn't until a nurse tapped my shoulder to demand the admission deposit that I snapped back to reality.

I borrowed her phone, biting my lip until it bled, and dialed Derek’s number.

It rang only twice before picking up.

My fingers gripped the plastic receiver so tight they turned white. My chest ached with a suffocating pain.

Derek hadn't missed my calls earlier because he was busy. He just refused to take mine.

His voice came through the speaker—lazy, sated, dripping with the arrogance of a man who owned the world.

Voice shaking, I told him what happened.

The moment he realized it was me, his breath hitched, and his tone instantly curdled into pure venom.

He let out a derisive scoff. "Are you out of your damn mind, asking me for cash? You give me pennies every month. I can barely afford lunch, let alone pay for him!"

I went quiet. Clinging to the last shred of hope in my battered heart, my voice cracked:

"Fine. I get it. Your shift should be over. Just come to the hospital. Ian’s in critical condition. We’ll figure it out together."

Silence fell on the other end, but my ears caught the unmistakable rustle of sheets and fabric.

Heavy pants followed, before Derek snapped with brutal impatience:

"I'm busy. How else do you think this family survives? Don't call me again!"

The call went dead.

A sickening realization hit me like a punch to the gut—what he was doing right after hanging up, right on the bed in our room.

My stomach violently heaved. I bent over the trash can, dry-retching until tears blurred my vision.

Fate gave me no time to break down.

A surgeon came hurrying over, his face grave.

"Are you Ian Sterling's guardian? His condition is deteriorating rapidly. He needs immediate emergency surgery followed by intensive care in the specialized ICU. You need to make a decision now."

The daily rate for the specialized ICU was astronomical.

Blood drained from my face. My whole body swayed.

In that desperate second, a phone number burned itself into my mind.

I dug my nails into my palms, my sanity tearing at the seams. Under the doctor’s urgent gaze, I bit my trembling lip and dialed.

After several agonizing rings, a familiar voice answered.

Deep. Cold. Dripping with lethal authority.

The second I breathed his name, his voice betrayed a flicker of surprise—and something far more dangerous.

"...Eleanor?"