Chapter 1

Three days into a business trip a few states away, a new female parent unexpectedly joined my son Leo's SnapChat group.

I tapped on the voice message. A sweet, unfamiliar female voice chimed through.

"Hi everyone, I'm the new English teacher at school, and I'm also Leo's mom. Please be gentle with me!"

My entire body went rigid. I tapped on the group members, comparing them repeatedly.

My son's name is Leo. She claimed to be Leo's mother. So, who the hell am I?

I immediately called my husband, Mark.

"Did the wrong person join Leo's parent group?"

On the other end, his voice faltered for a second before he smoothly laughed it off.

"Oh, it's probably a mistake. So many kids at school, it's normal for names to overlap. Why? Did something happen?"

I forced a smile and said, "Nothing," then hung up. That night, I hopped on the first available flight directly to Leo's school.

My plane landed, and I hailed a cab straight to Leo's elementary school.

He was seven this year, in first grade.

It was 1:40 PM, and classes were in full swing.

Mr. Henderson, the security guard, was very diligent. As soon as he knew I was a parent, he called the homeroom teacher.

A few minutes later, a young woman, looking fresh out of college, rushed out. She wore a crisp white blouse and a black skirt.

She wasn't striking, just conventionally pretty, in that sweet, innocent way. But her voice was soft and gentle.

My gut told me she was the woman I was looking for.

Sure enough, the moment she saw me, her composure shattered.

Her face went frighteningly pale, and her hands trembled uncontrollably, as if she'd just seen a demon.

"Th-this parent, are you… here for something at school?"

She was so scared she could barely string a sentence together.

Yet, she had the audacity to loudly declare herself Leo's mother in the parent group.

"I saw the message in the group chat."

Right in front of Mr. Henderson, I cut straight to the chase.

"You said you're Leo's mom? I'm curious."

The hands she'd clasped in her lap instantly tightened. Then, she glanced frantically at the security guard.

She forced a shaky smile and explained:

"Oh, that? It's because the parent-teacher conference is coming up soon. Leo's dad said both he and his wife were too busy to attend."

"So, to keep Leo from being sad, he specifically asked me to 'play the role' of his mother."

"If I caused you any trouble, I'm truly sorry!"

It was a brilliant explanation, not only clearing her name but also subtly jabbed at me for being too busy with work and out of town.

If I hadn't meticulously scrolled through her Instagram feed, I might have actually bought it.

Wednesday night at eight, Grand Theater.

She posted a photo of a man buying roses, his back to the camera.

Caption:

【The man I love isn't a prince; he's a king.】

The very next day, I ended up in the emergency room with a severe allergic reaction to pollen.

Friday afternoon at six, a torrential downpour hit the city.

She posted a selfie, sheltering under the school's eaves.

Caption:

【When will my king come to take me home?】

Three minutes later, Mark texted me.

"Babe, I'm working late tonight. Can't pick up Leo. You got this, right?"

I was hooked up to an IV at the hospital when I got the message, drifting in and out of sleep from the medication.

By the time I saw his text, two hours had passed.

Leo, unpicked up, had stood by the security booth, exposed to the cold for a full two hours.

That night, he spiked a fever of 102 degrees.

On the way to the hospital, Mark kept sighing. Every sigh, every comment, was a jab at me for not checking my phone.

I truly believed I was a terrible mother, stroking Leo's flushed face, whispering "I'm sorry" all night long.

But it turned out, I wasn't the one who should have been apologizing.

My hand clutched my bag, knuckles white. My gaze slowly swept over the girl's guilt-ridden, helpless face.

It landed on the glaring blue earrings dangling from her lobes, and I smiled, a cold, humorless curve of my lips:

"Ms. Scarlett, your earrings are lovely. Did your boyfriend give them to you? They look expensive."

Last month, for Valentine's Day, I'd personally found Mark's shopping receipts.

A solid gold bracelet, a pair of sapphire earrings.

The bracelet was five thousand dollars. It was on my wrist.

The earrings were thirty-eight thousand dollars. He'd given them to this girl standing before me.

Scarlett's face instantly drained of color when she heard my words.

Her lips trembled for a long time, but no sound escaped them.

Useless.

That word suddenly popped into my head.

Without another glance at her, I turned and walked away.

On the drive home, I called my father, Mr. Sterling.

He was Mark's direct boss, the head of Sterling Enterprises.

"Dad, I need a favor."

I changed my phone wallpaper from our family photo to a picture of just Leo and me, my voice unnervingly calm.

"That Head of Marketing position you promised Mark? Cancel it. And find me the best divorce lawyer. I'm divorcing Mark."

"Yes, he cheated on me with Leo's English teacher."