The CEO's Wife Was the Mistress

The Cancer Research Project had always been my father's greatest dream.

He had dedicated his entire life to helping people, and this project was supposed to lead to treatments that could genuinely save lives.

Even during my pregnancy, I had continued overseeing it. I worked right up until my due date, unwilling to let years of effort stall. It was only shortly before giving birth, when the project had finally begun progressing smoothly, that I permitted myself to step back and rest.

The moment I arrived at the company, my assistant practically ran toward me.

She was pale and drenched in sweat.

"Miss Vivian, Mr. Sterling transferred everything to Miss Vanessa," she said breathlessly. "Every department, every document, every approval. We have no idea what they're doing in there."

I drew in a slow breath.

"It's all right," I said as calmly as I could. "Take me to the president's office. I know the password to Adrian's computer."

I had barely taken two steps when someone stepped into my path.

Vanessa.

"Miss Vivian, please wait."

Her chin was lifted confidently. Her lips were slightly swollen, and faint marks stained her neck. She looked like a woman who believed she had already won.

"The president didn't authorize anyone to enter his office," she said coolly. "You can't go inside."

"Move."

I met her eyes without blinking.

"That project belongs to me. I've managed it from the beginning. I have every right to inspect it."

Her expression darkened.

"You ignored it throughout your pregnancy and now you suddenly want to take credit for it?" she snapped.

I stared at her.

"Do you really think you can claim something you've never worked for? Months of research don't magically become yours because someone handed you an office."

She couldn't refute that.

Instead, frustration overtook her.

She looked less like an executive and more like a child having a tantrum.

At that moment, Adrian appeared.

He looked surprised to see me.

"Genn?" he said hurriedly. "Why are you here already? I thought you'd wait for me."

I almost laughed.

Or maybe cried.

You were too busy playing husband somewhere else. Why pretend to care about me now?

Without a word, I handed him a stack of documents.

"Take a look."

He frowned and accepted them.

"Every original sample has been replaced. The imported materials we approved have all been switched with cheaper substitutes. Someone changed the suppliers and pocketed the money."

Adrian's brows knitted together.

Even he could immediately tell something was wrong.

Vanessa's face turned white.

"This has nothing to do with President Sterling," she blurted out. "I... I only wanted more money for my son. I didn't expect things to become this serious. I'm sorry, Miss Vivian."

I looked at her coldly.

"Sorry?"

I almost laughed.

"You're committing fraud. An apology isn't going to fix this. I'm reporting it."

I had barely finished speaking when a small body suddenly crashed into me.

The impact wasn't strong.

But I had given birth only a month ago.

My body was still recovering.

The collision sent a sharp pain through my abdomen.

A pained sound escaped my lips before I could stop it.

For a second, my vision blurred.

Silence descended across the office.

Adrian rushed toward me immediately.

"Genn!"

His expression changed completely.

"Look at me. Are you hurt? Does your stomach hurt? Tell me."

His hands hovered near me, wanting to help yet somehow never quite touching me.

Meanwhile, Vanessa hurried over and pulled the little boy behind her.

She wrapped her arms around him protectively.

"James, that wasn't nice," she said softly.

But there was no anger in her voice.

"You shouldn't push people. Apologize to Auntie."

Auntie.

She actually called me Auntie.

Then she looked at me with moist eyes.

"Miss Vivian, please don't blame him. He's only trying to protect his mother."

Protect.

The word almost made me laugh.

Before I could say anything, Adrian spoke.

"Genn, don't be upset with him. He's only a child. He doesn't understand adult issues."

Then he turned toward Vanessa.

"Take James downstairs. I'll talk to Vivian. He didn't mean anything."

Didn't mean anything?

I looked directly at him.

"Talk about what exactly?"

My voice was frighteningly calm.

"Are you going to explain why he called me a bad woman?"

I paused.

"Or are you going to explain why he called you Dad?"

The entire office seemed to stop breathing.

Adrian stiffened.

Only for a second.

Then he smiled.

"You're thinking too much," he said lightly. "Children sometimes call people Dad when they're close to them. It doesn't mean anything."

I stared at him.

Really?

I couldn't bear another second of their performance.

I turned around and headed toward the elevator.

Adrian followed after me.

"Vivian, why are you making such a big issue out of this?" he said impatiently. "He's six years old. Are you seriously upset with a six-year-old child?"

I stopped.

Then I slowly turned around.

Six years old.

And already capable of looking at me with hatred.

Who had taught him that?

Who made him believe I was his enemy?

Children don't invent those feelings by themselves.

They learn them.

I tightened my fingers into fists.

"They're taught," I said quietly.

Adrian frowned.

"What exactly are you trying to imply?"

His voice hardened.

"That he's my son? Vivian, don't be ridiculous. I have only one child."

He looked directly at me.

"Our daughter."

He said it naturally.

Effortlessly.

Even now, he was still lying.

A strange laugh escaped me.

It didn't even sound like my own.

"Then tell me something."

I looked him straight in the eye.

"What's our daughter's name?"

He froze.

I watched his expression carefully.

"You haven't even given her a name, have you?"

He opened his mouth.

No answer came.

I suddenly remembered a note I had discovered months ago.

He had scribbled down a single sentence.

I hope my child grows up strong, fearless, and impossible to break.

Underneath it was a name.

The name that was supposed to belong to our child.

Instead, it belonged to Vanessa's son.

I looked at him steadily.

"Her name is Charlotte."

He swallowed.

Something unreadable flashed through his eyes.

Then, as always, his expression softened.

"Charlotte," he repeated with a smile. "That's a beautiful name. Warm and bright."

His gaze settled on me.

"Just like you. I hope she always becomes the light of your life."

He lifted his hand, intending to touch my hair.

I took a step back.

His hand paused awkwardly in midair.

Then he lowered it.

"I'll be leaving on a business trip for a few days," he said, as though nothing had happened. "When I return, we'll sit down and talk properly. I'll explain everything."

I looked at him for several long seconds.

Then I nodded.

"Of course," I said evenly. "Your work is important."

I didn't give him another chance to speak.

I turned around and walked away.