Chapter 1

After the business marriage, I found myself with a 4-and-a-half-year-old son. Before meeting him, I had resigned myself to a life of indifference—foreseeing a future where my husband would remain cold and distant, and my stepson would ignore me, painting a picture of a "tragic" existence. But the moment I saw that little cutie, his small hand tugging at my clothes and his tentative voice calling me "Mom," I was utterly undone.

In that instant, my hardened resolve crumbled. I turned to my husband, eyes filled with a desperate plea. “After the divorce,” I asked softly, “can I keep the child?”

When the company ran into trouble, my father didn't hesitate to arrange a business marriage for me with a wealthy man who already had a son. I was more than satisfied with this arrangement.. After all, as a devoted singleton, the prospect of avoiding the burdens of motherhood was a blessing. The man was a workaholic CEO, leaving little room for personal involvement, and his son was primarily cared for by a nanny. I figured I could just lay back and relax since my husband is a CEO—I wouldn’t even have to raise the kid.

The wedding was a subdued affair, marked by its simplicity and the scant number of guests. As anticipated, the child was nowhere to be seen. The moment the ceremony concluded, my new husband, ever the workaholic, dashed off to his office. He left behind a brief, detached message:

“The company is swamped. I won’t be home for a few days.”

“Steven is already at home. You should get to know him better when you return.”

Steven Zach, that’s the name of my stepson.

With my parents divorced and my relationship with my father distant and strained, I left behind almost everything from the house. I took only a pendant necklace—a small, sentimental relic—before stepping into the unknown.