Chapter 2

"Mrs. Lewis, I’ll be starting high school when the semester begins."

Wendy’s voice broke the silence, as if testing the waters when she noticed I hadn’t spoken for a while.

Her words pulled me back from the memories of my previous life, and I refocused my gaze on her.

I studied her carefully, forcing down a wave of disgust as I gave her a faint smile.

—She’d been living quite comfortably off my money these past few years.

When I first saw her in the mountains, she was dark-skinned, malnourished, and scrawny.

Now? Her skin was fair and smooth, her figure well-fed, and even her voice carried a soft, sweet tone.

"Come in," I said, gesturing toward the door. "The guest room is ready. Make sure to focus on your studies."

As I spoke, I glanced at the man standing beside me—George Lewis.

I had no intention of sending Wendy back to where she came from.

Trash should be thrown into the trash can, after all.

I had even gone out of my way to "dress up" George for the occasion.

He wore a crisp white shirt paired with tailored slacks, and on his wrist was the six-figure Cartier watch I had gifted him for our wedding anniversary.

From the outside, he looked flawless—a charming, successful man.

But in reality, I was the one with the money.

George held a useless position at my company, a job I gave him just so he’d have something to do. He had no real power.

But girls like Wendy—greedy and shallow—were easily fooled by appearances.

Hah. If she was so desperate to play the part of a manipulative gold-digger, I’d hand her over to the dog myself.

This time, I’d push George straight into her arms so she wouldn’t have time to go after my son.

Sure enough, from the moment George appeared, Wendy’s demeanor changed. She pretended to be shy and obedient, but her gaze kept drifting toward him.

I nudged George deliberately and said, "Honey, don’t just stand there. Help Wendy with her luggage."

George, snapping out of his daze, finally reached out his well-manicured hands to pick up Wendy’s suitcase. He led her into the living room.

When their hands accidentally brushed during the handoff, Wendy’s cheeks turned pink. She lowered her head bashfully and murmured, "Thank you… Mr. Lewis."

I watched the scene unfold, a cold smile forming in my mind.

Perfect. The fish was starting to nibble at the bait.