Chapter 1

I took on a messy divorce case for Hannah Vance, my client.

In return, she slept with my husband, Sean Miller.

I lost my mind in court. I demanded that Hannah leave with nothing, and in a fit of rage, I grabbed a box cutter, charging at Sean ready to drag him to hell with me.

My mom rushed from the gallery and grabbed the blade bare-handed.

Blood dripped down her wrist.

"Lynn, you're a lawyer! You can't throw your life away over these two bastards!"

"It's all my fault. If I hadn't introduced this client to you, your marriage wouldn't be destroyed."

"If anyone needs to atone for this, it's me."

The next second, she snatched the blade and plunged it straight into her own chest.

Her blood splattered all over me. Before the ambulance even arrived, her heart stopped.

After that, Hannah fled abroad. Sean became completely submissive, constantly checking in and falling to his knees in tears, begging for forgiveness.

My hair turned stark white overnight.

Every single day, I went to church to pray and atone for the guilt eating me alive.

Until one day, I happened to open the home security camera app on my phone.

Mom and Hannah were both sitting in the living room.

"Sean, what if Lynn finds out we transferred all her assets?"

Mom comforted her gently, patting her hand.

"So what if she does? She owes you this."

"If I hadn't faked my death back then, who knows how far she would've pushed you."

Sean chuckled and chimed in.

"Thank you for enduring so much over the years, Eleanor. Don't worry, I'll keep Lynn on a tight leash."

"I won't let her hurt Hannah or the baby."

Mom was alive.

That bloody sacrifice in the courtroom had been a setup from the very beginning.

And in this sick, twisted game, I was the only fool kept in the dark.

"Lynn? What are you doing here?"

The moment I turned to leave, the front door swung open. Mom rushed forward and grabbed me in panic.

"Lynn, I know it was wrong to lie to you, but today is Hannah's birthday. Please, stop causing a scene. I'm begging you."

Swallowing the bitter taste rising in my throat, I shook off her grip and spoke in a raspy voice:

"My mother is dead. Who the hell are you?"

Sean stepped in front of Hannah, shielding her with an impatient scowl.

"Lynn, how can you talk to Mom like that? Do you have any idea how much she's suffered all these years?"

My eyes fell on the birthday cake sitting on the dining table. My heart felt hollowed out.

The special birthday tradition she once swore was meant only for me was now being served to another woman.

Forever was such a joke. Vows uttered with utter sincerity could be trashed so effortlessly.

Mom looked at me pleadingly, her eyes rimmed with red.

"Hannah went through so much abuse in her previous marriage. She finally found someone she loves. Just have some pity on her and let it go, please."

"What about me?"

I looked her dead in the eye.

"You pity her, but what about your own daughter? Did I deserve to be lied to for years? Do I have to hand over my husband just because she's pathetic?"

Mom said softly:

"Weren't you the one who felt sorry for her in the first place and told Sean to help her out? Why can't you be generous now?"

When Hannah first walked into my office covered in bruises, desperate for a divorce, I truly felt for her.

I was swamped with other cases back then. Since Sean was an attorney too, I asked him to help gather evidence and review documents for her.

I did tell him to help her wherever he could.

I never imagined I was welcoming a viper into my own home.

Sean glared at me coldly. "Hannah went through hell with her abusive ex. As a woman, you should show some empathy."

I didn't answer him. Instead, my gaze drifted past his shoulder into the warmly lit townhouse.

Hanging by the entryway was the Birkin bag I had dreamed of for years.

Sean had told me it wasn't worth the money and bought me a knockoff instead.

Yet here was the authentic one, hanging in plain sight.

I recognized the layout of the living room, too.

It was the exact open-concept design I had spent weeks creating with an interior designer for our dream home.

Sean had scrapped it back then, claiming it was too expensive.

Now, he had built it here.

I let out a dry, bitter laugh, blinking back tears.

"No wonder you always told me to save money. You were using my hard-earned cash to fund your little family."