My Husband and Daughter Betrayed Me, So l Faked My Death

“Naya, how could you push her? If you’ve been wronged, say so, but why lash out at a child?” His voice rose sharply.

Naya looked at him, her chest tight. That face, once so full of love, now only showed anger.

When they first married, he used to say she was his everything.

He worried if she so much as stubbed a toe. A mosquito bite would send him into a frenzy—he once ordered drones to spray their garden after she complained of itching.

Now, her palms were bloodied, and he didn’t even glance at them. Without another word, Cesar turned and carried Abigail away.

“Stay home for the next two days,” he said over his shoulder, cold and dismissive. “Think about what you’ve done.”

The door slammed and silence followed. Naya stared out the window, watching his figure disappear down the steps.

A faint, bitter smile crept across her lips.

Four days passed before she saw either of them again. Her luggage was packed by then, waiting for the right moment.

Abigail scowled the second she saw her. “Dad, I don’t want to see Mom. I want to stay with Zora.”

Naya’s lips twitched; half a smile, half something darker.

Of course. They had spent the last few days together and completely forgotten about her.

“Abigail,” Cesar said, waving the servants over. “Take her upstairs.”

The once-bustling living room fell into abrupt silence.

“Naya, I just found out Zora isn’t dead. She’s returned to Chirean. She ran into Abigail at the hospital and stayed with her for a few days. Don’t misunderstand, she and I are just friends. We’re family,” Cesar said, his voice steady.

Naya looked at his serious expression and nearly laughed. ‘Friends? Friends who appear on marriage certificates? Family? And who exactly counts as family?’

The thought made her lips curl into a cold sneer. Still, she didn’t expose him. She simply let him take her hand.

“Naya, what happened to your hand? When did you get this scar?” Cesar turned her palm over, revealing the faded pink mark.

He gently ran his fingers across her skin, his face full of concern, like it meant something. Naya’s stomach turned. The hypocrisy was nauseating.

He didn’t love her, never had. And yet here he was, playing the role of the perfect husband.

“I wasn’t fair the other day,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you over Abigail’s fall. Let me get you some more ointment.”

“No need. It’s already healed,” Naya said, calmly pulling her hand away. Her hand had healed. But the scar on her heart, she knew it would never fade.

Cesar seemed thrown off by her coldness. Without a word, he took her hand again and led her upstairs, saying he had an anniversary gift for her.

Naya opened the box gently. Inside was a set of sheer, flowing chiffon pajamas; lacy, silky, revealing.

The sight of it made her stomach twist.

Cesar had always had odd ideas about what marriage should be. Naya didn’t like them, but she couldn’t stand to see him upset. So she endured the discomfort and played along.

Back then, she was still lost in the illusion that he loved her with all his heart. She believed that the more she gave, the more he would love her in return.

But now, looking at the sheer, sultry sleepwear, all she felt was revulsion. She calmly folded the clothes and pushed them into the back of the closet.

When she looked up, Cesar was staring at her, clearly surprised. Naya just gave a small, knowing smile.

If it were back then, even if she disliked it, she would still pretend to be pleased.

“Abigail’s grown up now,” she said softly. “We should be more careful.”

Cesar sighed and turned to leave the room. But just as he reached the door, his phone rang.

Naya glanced up, and it was none other than Zora.