Honey, He Bullied Us

I moved back to my parents' house with my daughter, and my parents were over the moon, practically dancing with joy.

"We've been wanting you two to come stay for a while. But I didn't want to mention it because we were worried Amy might not want to part with the baby."

Amy did not want to part with the baby.

That was a joke of epic proportions.

Of course, she was great at putting on a show. Every time my parents visited, she played the part of the sweet, kind-hearted, and loving grandmother to perfection.

But as soon as my parents left, she'd be right back at it, harping on about having a son.

It seemed that her family was some royal dynasty that needed an heir!

Amy should take a good look in the mirror—her own son was hardly fit to be a father, let alone provide for a child.

If it weren't for my relentless earnings, we'd be scraping by on his meager salary. There'd be no question of raising a kid; she'd be struggling just to get by.

But I didn't want my parents to worry about these things.

They'd already sacrificed so much for me over the years.

Now that I was a mother myself, it was time for me to handle my own problems.

With my parents helping out with my daughter, I shut the bedroom door behind me and secretly pulled up the surveillance footage on my phone.

Yes, before leaving, I had installed hidden cameras around the house.

I was eager to see just how much of Amy and Vincent's true colors were hidden from view.

When I opened that footage, I was in for a shock.