Chapter 1

Four months pregnant, I came home alone after my OB-GYN appointment.

As soon as I unlocked the front door, I froze.

Melanie, my husband's ex-wife, was sitting on my sofa, wearing my personal house slippers.

Her daughter, Lily, was holding my cat, while Julian, my husband, buzzed around them like a busy bee.

They looked exactly like a happy family of three.

Before I could even speak, Julian rushed over to explain.

"Chloe, Lily has been diagnosed with severe depression. I'm letting them move in with us for a while so I can take better care of them."

I looked down at the medical report Julian handed me.

It was riddled with typos and formatting errors—clearly a poorly generated fake from some cheap online AI tool.

I let out a cold laugh. "You're going to take care of them? Then who's going to take care of me?"

It was late afternoon when I finally got home from the clinic.

My body was aching with exhaustion as I pulled out my keys and opened the door.

The moment the door swung open, I stiffened.

Laughs and giggles echoed from the living room—Julian's voice, mixed with a woman's.

I walked in to find Melanie directing my husband. "Julian, can you move that potted plant to the balcony? The doctor said Lily is a bit allergic to pollen."

And her daughter, Lily—the supposed "depressed" child—was holding my cat, Mochi, tightly in her arms, pulling hard on his tail.

Mochi let out a painful whimper, struggling desperately to break free.

"Stop it!"

A nerve in my brain snapped. I practically screamed as I rushed forward and snatched Mochi out of Lily's grip.

Terrified, Mochi wriggled out of my arms and bolted under the sofa.

Startled by my sudden movement, Lily stared at me for two seconds before bursting into a piercing, dramatic wail.

Melanie sprang up like a startled cat, throwing her arms around Lily to comfort her. But when she looked up at me, her face was a mask of tearful apology.

"Chloe, please don't be mad. Lily... she just loves animals. She didn't mean any harm."

Before she could even finish, Julian rushed over.

Without even looking at me, he shoved me aside. My lower back slammed hard against the sharp corner of the shoe cabinet. A sharp, stinging pain shot up my spine.

He knelt in front of Lily, frantically checking her hands.

"Why are you taking it out on a child?! Did the cat scratch you? Lily, let Daddy see!"

His voice was thick with panic and tenderness, as if Lily were the one who had just survived a horrific assault.

Leaning against the cold cabinet, I watched this touching family scene play out. It was sickening.

This girl, who supposedly needed "fatherly love" to cure her depression, was crying with the lung capacity of a professional opera singer. There wasn't a single trace of depression on her face.

Meanwhile, I, his pregnant wife carrying his actual child, was shoved to the floor, and he couldn't even spare me a glance.

Slowly, I looked away from the "doting father" act and toward the display shelf in the living room.

There used to be a delicate, hand-painted ceramic vase sitting there.

It was the only thing I had left of my late mother.

Now, the shelf was empty.

On the hardwood floor lay a heap of shattered, white-and-blue porcelain.

Blood rushed to my head. My entire body began to shake.

Tucked safely in Melanie's embrace, Lily stopped crying for a fraction of a second to shoot me a smug, mocking smirk from behind her mother's shoulder.

In that instant, everything clicked.

The allergy was fake. The love for animals was fake. The "accident" was entirely staged.

They did this on purpose.

This was their way of declaring war, of marking their territory in my home.

Melanie was still putting on her pathetic show.

"Oh, Chloe, I'm so incredibly sorry. It's my fault for not watching Lily closely enough. She accidentally knocked the vase over... Please don't be angry. Just tell me how much it was, and I'll pay you back..."

Pay me back?

Did she honestly think money could buy back my mother's last keepsake?

I felt like a balloon filled to its absolute limit, ready to burst.

All the exhaustion, anger, disappointment, and heartbreak exploded at once.

I dragged myself up from the floor. Every movement sent a sharp pain through my lower back.

I ignored Melanie. I ignored the crying child.

I fixed my eyes entirely on Julian.

The man I once loved with all my heart. The husband who was currently keeping his back to me, utterly devoted to comforting another woman's child.

I pointed toward the front door, pouring every ounce of strength I had left into a cold, raspy voice.

"Julian."

"Take your people."

"And get the hell out of my house. Right now."