Chapter 4

Lila Hart POV

Ethan's expression changed. He immediately turned and rushed upstairs.

Moments later, he came down cradling the "frightened" Mandy. Her eyes were red, pitifully leaning against him, still holding a porcelain shard.

"Ethan, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to," she sobbed, her eyes flashing with viciousness aimed straight at me. "I wanted to help clean up the living room, but... but Lila kept looking at me that way. I got scared and dropped your favorite antique vase..."

The thief crying thief. What a performance.

Ethan's patience completely ran out.

"Lila, get on your knees and apologize to Mandy."

I pushed myself up from the sofa, swaying unsteadily, looking at him and the woman in his arms putting on such a convincing act.

"And if I don't?"

"Don't?" Ethan laughed, though his eyes were ice cold. "You're a parasite who can't survive without me. What gives you the right to defy me? Without the Foster family, you can't even afford Nina's medication next month!"

Medication?

Right. Nina's medication.

I looked at him, very calmly, and told him, word by word, with perfect clarity.

"Ethan Foster, Nina doesn't need medication anymore."

My tone was so calm it was eerie.

Ethan froze.

He stared at me for several seconds, then a flash of triumphant satisfaction crossed his eyes. He probably thought I'd finally broken down and was compromising.

He released me and leisurely adjusted his cuffs. "Finally seeing sense? Then start by washing Mandy's clothes. By hand. Don't use the washing machine."

With that, he pulled Mandy close and put on a show of tender affection right in front of me.

"Still scared? Don't worry, it's just an object. Doesn't matter if it broke."

"But it was Lila's..."

"Don't mention her. Bad luck."

Their public display of affection—I couldn't hear a single word anymore.

I turned around and walked step by step back to my room.

The only place in this house that still belonged to me.

I ignored the clothes they'd thrown messily across the bed and went straight to the closet, opening the bottom drawer.

Inside lay a signed divorce agreement.

Beside the agreement was a small, plain box.

I reached out and gently stroked that box, as if caressing Nina's cold cheek.

Ethan Foster.

It's time for us to end this.

I pulled my suitcase out of the room.

That cheap case was bought years ago. The wheels had worn out, making an especially grating "rumble... rumble..." noise across the mirror-smooth marble floor.

Each sound was like a death knell tolling in this lifeless house.

I clutched that small, cold wooden box tightly to my chest, walking step by step toward the door as if treading on knife points.

The crystal chandelier in the living room blazed brilliantly. Ethan and Mandy were intimately nestled on the sofa.

His slender fingers held a small fork, lifting a piece of watermelon to Mandy's lips with such tender care.

They didn't spare me a single glance, as if I were invisible air in this villa.

Not until the suitcase wheel caught at the entrance with a dull thud did Ethan finally deign to lift those aristocratic eyes.

He saw the suitcase at my feet. He paused, then that handsome face showed a mocking sneer, as if this outcome was exactly what he'd expected.

His gaze eventually landed on the box in my arms like a poisoned nail, piercing deep.

"Lila, where do you think you're going?" Mandy spoke first.

She sat up straight from Ethan's embrace, her face showing innocent surprise, but those eyes were like two slithering snakes, coiling around the box I held.

"What you're holding... that looks like company property, doesn't it?" She tilted her head, her tone deliberately uncertain. "I remember that wooden box—Ethan uses it specifically for core design blueprints... Ethan, those are vital to the company's next quarter. You'd better check!"