The Billionaire's Betrayal A Wife's Revenge

This is what the media in Harbor City call my last shred of dignity. Whoever holds this place holds the title of Mrs. Fleming.

So all his women—just like Lily—want to replace me and move in here.

No matter how favored the previous ones were, none of them ever stepped foot inside this house.

She's the first.

Lily played along, leaning into his arms. Maybe because of what I said yesterday, she was even bolder now, teasing Alex right in front of me. I watched the veins on his forehead bulge—that's what it looked like when he was barely holding back.

I knew he'd agree.

His tastes were... particular. It was rare for him to find a woman so willing to play along.

He also knew I wouldn't leave.

Sure enough, the next second he wrapped an arm around me and, in his gentlest voice, said the cruelest thing:

"Honey, she likes it here, so just give it to her. You stay downstairs; upstairs is hers. For the next few months, you'll take good care of Lily."

"When the baby's born, you can treat it like our Ethan has come back. These little grievances—think of them as suffering for Ethan's sake. As the wife, you need to show the generosity a wife should have."

The sneer froze in my eyes.

Wave after wave of sour, metallic bitterness crept up my throat. Hatred surged from the pit of my stomach, nearly shattering my composure, making me want to lunge forward and sink my teeth into his throat.

I don't understand.

The man who used to blush from his earlobes to his neck just from saying something sweet. The man who lied to my father about needing time off so he could sneak out to date me—so nervous he actually fainted. How could that same man now so casually talk about replacing Ethan with someone else's child?

Not even a flicker of guilt.

Sunlight poured through the window, but it couldn't chase the cold from my bones.

I took a deep breath, swallowed the metallic taste in my throat, and said softly, "Okay."

If I don't see what happens to them with my own eyes, I won't accept it.

His brow relaxed, and that smug smile returned—the one that said he had everything under control.

For the two days after Lily moved in, I personally handled all her meals. Even the sheets they slept on—I changed them myself.

Alex saw it, and he played even more recklessly with her. Ordering me around became second nature.

The day the typhoon made landfall, I gave all the servants the day off.

When he woke up and found his wrist still cuffed to the bed, he probably assumed last night with Lily had just gotten out of hand. When he saw me walk in, he frowned and raised his arm—not even bothering to hide the red marks on his body, the evidence of their wild night—waiting for me to fetch the key and unlock him.

I didn't obey like usual. I walked to his bedside and stopped.

When he sensed something was off and opened his eyes fully, when he saw what I was cradling in my arms—Ethan's urn—his expression finally changed.

"Honey, what are you doing."

My smile was colorless. "Alex. I'm asking you—how did Ethan die?"

His face stayed blank, like he thought I was just throwing a tantrum.

He even chuckled, a lazy, placating sound.

"Honey, didn't we agree—we don't bring this up? It was an accident. I don't blame you anymore."

"Lily and I went too far and upset you. Can you let me go? I'll kick her out right now. She'll never appear in front of you again, okay?"

Seeing that even now he refused to tell the truth, I smiled bitterly. I had to admit—he was even more shameless than I'd imagined.

Thunder crashed outside, nearly splitting the sky in two. Wind howled like a ghost coming to collect its due.

"Do you want me to help you remember?"

"The day Ethan had his accident—where were you?"

His gaze flickered. He stayed silent.