Chapter 2

As for asking my father for help?

The thought barely surfaced before I crushed it myself.

I am his daughter with his ex-wife.

Vanessa is the daughter he had with the woman he cheated with.

I am the living proof of his betrayal of marriage—the only reason my mother hesitated before finally divorcing him. In my father’s eyes, blood ties have never outweighed naked利益.利益 always comes first.

Back when I was a rising star in the dance world, when I still carried the halo of being noticed by Mr. G, he was willing to show me some courtesy, treating me as a bargaining chip he could use to climb higher into elite circles.

But ever since I gave up my career and willingly became the housewife standing behind Liam, I completely lost my value in his eyes.

I was no longer Clara Bennett. I was just a tool meant to please Liam and maintain the illusion of a stable marriage.

If he were to find out that I couldn’t even keep my own husband, that I couldn’t even hold on to this fake marriage, he would only see me as utterly useless. He already treated me with cold indifference—if he knew, he would side with Vanessa and suppress me even harder.

That outcome would be far worse than being thrown to Gregory.

So Mr. G was my only lifeline.

I had to seize this opportunity tightly and fight with everything I had to reclaim my place in the dance world.

Only by standing high enough—by possessing undeniable achievements and real influence—could I truly take control of my life.

Only then could I save my mother.

Only then could I avenge my three dead children.

Only then could I reclaim everything that had been taken from me.

My phone vibrated.

It was a payment confirmation from the hospital.

Mr. G’s efficiency far exceeded my expectations. There were no unnecessary questions, no complicated conditions—only immediate action to fulfill his promise.

The massive stone hanging over my heart finally dropped. My mother’s surgery could proceed smoothly.

And yet, the chill in my chest didn’t fade. Instead, it condensed into something firmer, sharper.

I pushed the door open.

The sight in the living room stabbed painfully into my eyes.

Liam was leaning lazily against the sofa, Vanessa nestled against his side, the two of them laughing and playing with Noah. Noah was holding the birthday gift I had prepared long ago—a set of building blocks—but he was now offering them to Vanessa like a toy.

Vanessa laughed as she pulled him into her arms. Liam wrapped an arm around her, leaned down, and whispered something into her ear, making her giggle. The intimacy in her eyes was completely undisguised.

That was my home.

My sofa.

The throw pillows I had carefully chosen.

And now they had become the background for their picture-perfect family of three.

And me?

I was the intruder.

An invisible hand clenched tightly around my heart, a dull ache spreading through my chest. I didn’t step forward. I didn’t make a sound. I simply turned and walked quietly toward the bedroom.

When my fingers touched the doorknob, I took a deep breath, forced down the turmoil inside me, pushed the door open, and began packing.

Clothes.

Documents.

One by one, I placed them into the suitcase.

Keychains.

Snow globes.

All the proof of past affection.

I threw them into the trash.

Everything here stopped belonging to me today.

Those fake moments of warmth.

Those cruel lies.

And the seven years of my youth and sincerity.

All of it deserved an ending.

“You’re packing?” Liam’s voice suddenly sounded at the door, carrying a faint trace of scrutiny.

I paused but didn’t turn around. I picked up a neatly folded old sweater and answered calmly, masking everything beneath a familiar tone.

“Yes. Just some old things—taking up space. Noah’s birthday is coming up. I want to clear the room and give him a surprise.”

I made my voice sound as natural as possible—no different from the obedient wife I had always been.

Liam didn’t seem suspicious. He gave a perfunctory “Mm,” then added casually,

“That works. Don’t tire yourself out. Go make lunch for Vanessa later—something nutritious. No seafood. She’s allergic.”

I smiled coldly.

Seven years of marriage, and Liam had never once known my preferences or my food restrictions.

He said nothing more and turned to leave.

But just then, a small figure suddenly charged in, accompanied by a sharp scream.

“What are you doing?! Don’t touch my things!”

It was Noah.

Like an enraged little animal, he rushed over and swept the clothes I had just folded onto the floor. Building blocks and toy cars were hurled at me, striking my arm and back painfully.

“Noah!” I frowned and reached out to stop him.

But he violently shook my hand off. His face was twisted with a hatred completely unfitting for his age. He pointed at my nose and shouted:

“You bad woman! As soon as you come home, you start seducing Dad! You make it so Dad can’t stay with Mommy Vanessa! You’re not nice at all—Mommy Vanessa is gentler than you, prettier than you!”

My heart felt like it had been pricked by countless needles.

This was the child I had raised for five years. From infancy to his first steps, from babbling sounds to carrying a schoolbag on his back. Every meal, every diaper, every bedtime story—I had done it all myself.

I had loved him with everything I had.

And now…

“I don’t want you to be my mom!” Noah’s voice suddenly rose, the malice in his eyes sharp as ice picks.

“Vanessa is my real mom! Why don’t you hurry up and die? If you die, Mommy Vanessa can stay here properly, and Dad will be happier!”

“Hurry up and die.”

Those three words smashed into my heart like a heavy hammer, instantly freezing my entire body.

Five years of devotion—this was what it amounted to.

I stared at him, at this familiar yet utterly strange child, and felt nothing but bitter irony.

He was alive only because of the flesh and blood of my three children. And I, like a fool, had poured my entire soul into loving and raising him.

“Noah, you’re not allowed to speak to your mother like that,” Liam walked in. He didn’t scold Noah—only said it lightly. Then he turned to me, his tone clearly biased.

“Clara, don’t take it to heart. Noah’s still young. Kids say things without thinking.”

“Without thinking?” I finally spoke, my voice trembling with restrained anger.

“He’s five. He knows what ‘death’ means. He knows who treats him well. Liam, look at him—this is the ‘good son’ you’ve raised? This is what Vanessa teaches him?”

Emotions I had suppressed for far too long finally cracked. Anger wrapped around my heart like thorny vines.

Liam’s expression darkened instantly. Impatience and disgust flashed through his eyes. He stepped forward, pulled Vanessa tightly into his arms, took Noah by the hand, and looked at me coldly.

“Clara, have you had enough? He’s just a kid—why are you arguing with him? If you don’t want to pack, then don’t. Stop ruining everyone’s mood.”

Without giving me any chance to respond, he turned and walked away with Vanessa and Noah.

As they left, Vanessa glanced back at me. A trace of smug provocation flashed through her eyes—like a fine needle piercing the last of my disguise.

The bedroom was left with only me.

Clothes and toys were scattered across the floor. Noah’s vicious words still echoed in the air.

I slowly crouched down and picked up the clothes one by one. My fingers were ice-cold. My heart, however, felt hollowed out.

There was no longer the searing pain from before—only a vast, deathly calm.

This home.

This place I once believed was my harbor.

This place I gave everything to protect.

Now, there was nothing left but betrayal and hurt.

I felt no attachment to it anymore.

Once my procedures were complete, I would take my mother and leave.