44 Affairs Later

A couple stood outside the door with their luggage and keys.

The plump woman stepped forward angrily. “Speak now. We will call the police if you do not.”

I sneered and met her gaze. “Call the police. Go ahead. I would like to see who your son is. How dare you call my home his?”

The woman looked doubtful and stepped outside to check the house number. “There is no mistake. This is my son’s home.”

“Darling, stop talking. It must be a burglary. Look, he is holding a gift box. It looks expensive.”

Her eyes landed on the box in my hand. Her expression changed instantly. She rushed toward me and raised her hand.

She slapped me hard. Her sharp nails scratched my face. “You thief. How dare you steal my daughter‑in‑law’s jewelry? Do you know who she is? She is the CEO of Ford Group. How dare you cause trouble in her home? You must have a death wish.”

My face snapped to the side, and the taste of blood filled my mouth. Before I could turn back, the man punched me in the stomach, then struck my face again.

The woman kicked over my suitcase, spilling everything onto the floor. “I want to see what you stole from our house.”

“Do not touch my things.” I gasped for breath as blood dripped onto the floor.

“Oh, how dare you yell? Darling, call security. What kind of fancy neighborhood is this? They cannot even stop a thief.”

“John Harvey, call our son and daughter‑in‑law right now. They do not even know a thief broke in.”

During the days I cared for my father, I could not eat or sleep, and I fell seriously ill. If not for that, I would not have been beaten so easily.

Seeing my weakened state, the couple smiled smugly. While waiting for Jessie, they began touching the items in the house. “Who bought this painting? It is so ugly. Let us throw it away.”

John picked up the painting with a disgusted look. He was about to toss it outside when I widened my eyes. “You cannot throw that.”

“You fool, who gave you the right to speak?” John stomped on my face. His dirty shoe pressed against my skin.

“You cannot throw it. I told you, I am the owner of this house.” My cheek throbbed, swollen and numb, making my words slur.

“Pah. Are you crazy for money? You think everyone is as lucky as my son to marry a rich woman? Who do you think you are?”

He spat on my face.

“Look how dirty you are. If our daughter‑in‑law sees this, it will ruin her impression.”

John pouted, stood up, and carried the painting outside. I scrambled to my feet and limped after him.

“You want it that badly?” John stroked his chin, a cruel smile forming. “Kneel down and beg me.”

I gritted my teeth. All that mattered was getting the painting back.

He did not keep his promise. He raised the painting high and slammed it onto the ground.

“No!” I cried out.

The protective glass shattered. He picked up the painting and tore it to pieces.

It was my grandmother’s last work, the one she said she would leave to her future granddaughter‑in‑law.

My grandmother had been a famous painter. Her works were priceless.

My strength left me. I collapsed to the ground in despair.

Suddenly, the headlights of a nearby car shone on me.

“Honey!”