Ignore Hubby and Son's Regret, Shining Now Free Preview

"Sweetheart, have you thought about what we talked about last time? Your grandfather's health is getting worse. You're our only daughter. Don't you want to come home and take over the company?"

In the quiet room, Demi Snow held a paintbrush while listening to her mother's worn voice on the phone.

The dim light cast a soft glow over her canvas as she drew the final stroke of a family of three.

Carol Snow thought this was another failed attempt. But unexpectedly, Demi spoke softly, "Okay."

Carol froze for a moment, surprised. "Y-you agreed?"

"Yes," Demi said calmly. "I'll come home. I just need some time to finish things here. I'll be home within two weeks."

After exchanging a few more words, Demi ended the call.

She walked out of her studio and looked down from the staircase into the living room. Three people sat there.

Her gaze lingered on the man sitting on the couch.

He had sharp, handsome features—deep-set eyes, clean lines, and a quiet, serious aura. His shirt was buttoned all the way up, his dress pants crisp and perfect. Everything about him screamed control and elegance.

That was her husband, Nevin Blackwell, the man she had chosen against her family's wishes. She once believed Nevin was worth giving up everything for.

Nevin was known for his cold, distant manner. People in his circle called him the Ice Prince. But right now, he was smiling softly at another woman.

Nearby, a six-year-old boy with bright eyes ran into the woman's arms. "Rhea, can you make me some orange-glazed fish? Please?"

Rhea Dunn touched his nose affectionately and smiled. "Of course, cupcake."

Orion Blackwell's eyes lit up with joy. "You're the best! You're different than my mom; she never lets me eat what I want."

He pouted after saying that.

Rhea smiled and said gently, "Then you should eat a little more today."

Orion nodded, his face bright with a sweet grin. "Rhea, you're so nice. I wish you were my real mom."

Rhea's smile deepened.

Upstairs, Demi's heart ached painfully.

She knew Orion could get greedy with food. Demi limited his portions because she didn't want his stomach to hurt later.

But watching them now—her husband, her son, and that woman—they looked like a real family. She was the one left out.

Demi went back to her room.

A few minutes later, footsteps sounded outside.

The door opened. Rhea walked in, her makeup flawless, her expression soft and gentle. "Demi," she said sweetly, "let's go downstairs and celebrate Orion's birthday together."

Rhea used to be her intern. She'd come from a poor family and had just enough skill to get by. Demi still remembered the day Rhea broke down in her office, crying that if she couldn't find a job soon, she'd have to marry some guy back home.

Demi had taken pity on her and brought her into the company.

Who could've guessed she'd end up inviting a snake into her home?

Rhea copied everything Demi did—her style, her voice, and even how she spoke to Nevin. By the time Demi realized it, Rhea was already part of their home, close to both her husband and her son.

Demi had long seen through her act. She hated herself for letting a snake into the house.

"I'm not feeling well," she said coldly. "I'll pass."

Rhea put on her best innocent act. "Demi, you're his mom. Orion needs your blessing today."

Demi frowned, ready to refuse again, but then stopped. She sighed.

This is between me and Rhea. Orion shouldn't suffer because of it.

As his mother, I owe him my presence on his birthday.

Demi put down her paintbrush, brushed past Rhea, and headed downstairs.

For a second, Rhea's smile stiffened. A flash of malice crossed her eyes before she followed.

When Demi saw Nevin and Orion together, she froze.

Ten years ago, she joined Blackwell Group to gain experience and met Nevin there. They fought, laughed, and somehow fell in love. Against her family's wishes, she married him. Demi even cut ties with them because of it.

For the past decade, Demi never once regretted her choice. She had a rich, handsome husband who treated her well and a smart, adorable child.

She thought her life was perfect until Rhea showed up.

Demi watched as Rhea smiled sweetly, serving food for Nevin and Orion.

Rhea's arrival had shattered everything that once felt beautiful.

Demi picked up her fork, ready to eat, but suddenly felt a wave of nausea.

She set it down quickly and ran to the restroom, retching over the sink.

Nevin looked worried and started to follow her, but Rhea stopped him. Her eyes filled with concern.

"Mr. Blackwell, what's wrong with Demi?" she asked anxiously.

Nevin comforted gently. "She's been doing this lately. It's nothing; don't worry."

Then he turned toward the restroom and mocked coldly, "What's your excuse this time? Did you catch a cold? Or is the food not good enough again?"

Demi said nothing. She wiped the corner of her mouth with a tissue.

If she told them she was pregnant, would anyone believe her?

Forget it. She was already planning to leave. Why should she tell them?

There's no point in ruining the sweet moment between her husband and that homewrecker.

Rhea was a secretary, but she had the nerve to scold her boss. "Mr. Blackwell, don't talk like that. Maybe she really doesn't feel well. She's lost so much weight lately."

She stood up, poured a cup of hot tea, and handed it to Demi.

"Are you okay? Here, drink some tea."

The sight of her disgusting face made Demi feel even sicker. Irritated, she pushed her hand away.

She hadn't used much force, but Rhea stumbled slightly. Somehow, the water spilled on Rhea's hand.

"Ouch!" Rhea cried out in pain.

"Rhea!"

"Rhea!"

Nevin and Orion rushed over at the same time. The father and son stared at Rhea's red, scalded hand with panic and concern.

Her fair skin had turned bright red from the burn.

Tears filled Orion's eyes as he looked at Rhea. "Does it hurt a lot?" The boy asked softly, his voice trembling with worry.

Rhea forced a smile, pretending to be strong. "It's okay, Orion. I wasn't careful. It doesn't hurt."

Nevin turned toward Demi, his eyes burning with anger.

His voice was cold as ice. "What trouble are you trying to cause this time?"

Demi's heart twisted in pain. She caught Rhea's smug look, then saw her son standing protectively in front of her. Hopelessness washed over her, and she closed her eyes.

"I didn't do anything," she said quietly.

But of course, Nevin didn't believe her.

When the family doctor arrived, Nevin helped Rhea sit up, letting her lean against his chest. His dark eyes were filled with disappointment.

"Demi, you've changed. The woman I knew would never do something like this out of jealousy."

Changed?

Yes. She had changed.

Ten years ago, she wouldn't have had a stomach full of stretch marks from giving birth. She wouldn't have dull skin from sleepless nights.

And she wouldn't have given up her career to cook and clean for a man, only to be replaced by someone new.

Demi suddenly felt exhausted. She swallowed her explanation and went upstairs.

Before entering her room, she looked back one last time. The living room was chaos, but in the middle of it stood her husband and son, both surrounding Rhea with concern, like a perfect little family.

Demi smiled bitterly and shook her head. Gently, she placed a hand on her stomach and set a countdown to her departure on her phone.

Then she walked into her room without hesitation.

From that moment on, she promised herself she would never disturb them again.

The noise outside slowly faded away. Demi didn't care what was going on. She just put on her earplugs and eye mask and slept until morning.

She'd decided to go home and took over the family business. That meant she had to quit her job here.

Since giving birth to Orion, she had rarely appeared at the company. But back when Nevin took over the Blackwell Group, she was right there beside him, helping build everything step by step.

Blackwell Group wouldn't have become the country's top firm without her.

So even though she hadn't worked in the office for years, she still received a large annual bonus and dividends.

Early that morning, Demi stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her long wavy brown hair framed a delicate face, but her pretty charming eyes carried no trace of a smile.

She was beautiful. No one could deny that. Even after years as a stay-at-home wife, all the exhaustion and stress hadn't taken away her charm.

But the emotional abuse at home and the stress of pregnancy had drained the light from her eyes, making them look lifeless and dull now.

At the top floor of Blackwell Group, Demi was waiting for her resignation papers to be printed.

Behind her, she overheard a few employees chatting.

"Did you see Rhea's Instagram?"

"Not yet. What did she post this time?"

"Plenty. Looks like she was celebrating someone's birthday. You've got to see it."

They laughed, but when they looked up and saw Demi standing there, their smiles froze.

"Uh—M-Ms. Snow?"

"Ms. Snow, you're back at the office?"

Demi gave them a polite nod. They quickly murmured a goodbye and rushed off.

As they disappeared down the hall, she could still hear them whispering.

"Ugh, what bad luck. Why's Demi here?"

"She's already married Mr. Blackwell. Why show off in front of us?"

"Please, I bet she and Mr. Blackwell aren't doing great. Wouldn't be surprised if they're getting divorced."

Demi wasn't bothered with this. She was used to this kind of talk. Her coworkers had never liked her much.

If it hadn't been for all the office bullying she faced early on and Nevin stepping in to help, she probably would've never fallen for him.

Bored from waiting, she unlocked her phone and opened Instagram.

The first thing she saw was Rhea's new post. A collage of nine pictures.

The first one was from Orion's birthday party last night, lavishly decorated with balloons and a huge three-layer cake right in the center.

But what caught Demi's eye was a hospital photo. Three hands of different sizes stacked together. It looked warm and cozy.

A trip to the hospital again? Just for a burn?

Demi let out a dry laugh and scrolled through the comments. They were all full of envy and well wishes.

[Wow! A birthday party for the little one? So sweet!]

[Another lovey-dovey post! Who's your mystery man, girl? Show us already]

[Doesn't matter what happens—as long as the family's together, that's happiness.]

The comments went on and on.

She knew exactly what Rhea was doing. Rhea was trying to get under her skin, trying to make her lose control, run to Nevin, and demand answers.

Once upon a time, that would've worked. She couldn't stand seeing that fake sweetness or how her husband and son would rather be with a woman who copied her every move.

But now? She was leaving soon. None of it mattered anymore.

Demi let out a faint smile and tapped the little red heart beneath the post.

A moment later, with her resignation letter in hand, Demi went straight to the CEO's office and handed it to Nevin's personal assistant.

The people in the secretary department were whispering behind her back, mocking her for showing off at the office as if she owned the place. But the moment they saw the resignation letter, the room went silent. Then someone gasped.

"What—wait, am I seeing this right?!"

"Ms. Snow is resigning?!"

The assistant froze, panic flashing across her face. "Mr. Blackwell is in an important meeting. Maybe we should wait until he's done—"

"Don't bother," Demi said with a calm smile. "I'm just the chief of secretary in name only, remember? You have the authority to process it. No need to trouble him."

People around whispered in low voices. "Could the rumors be true? Did Demi and Mr. Blackwell break up? Is Ms. Dunn turning out to be a homewrecker?"

"Why did you assume it's Ms. Dunn? Isn't she married?"

"You're clueless. Did you see that hand on Instagram? That Rolex costs a fortune. No one in all of Yraka could afford it except Mr. Blackwell."

"Exactly. Didn't you notice that Ms. Dunn took over all Ms. Snow's work after she went on maternity leave?"

"And now that she's quitting, maybe it's because she's stepping aside for good!"

Demi could hear every word of it. They'd always loved gossiping. In the past, she would've been crushed, hiding under the covers and crying into her pillow.

But now? She suddenly realized none of it mattered anymore.

She smiled at everyone as if she hadn't heard a thing, bowed politely, and said, "Thank you all for your hard work over the past ten years. I hope Blackwell Group continues to grow and thrive."

The office fell silent. No one knew what to say. Demi walked back to her desk and began packing up her things.

After ten years, her workspace was filled to the brim. Ten years' worth of memories were stacked neatly in front of her—books she bought when she first joined, binders filled with notes, and her old planner from when she became Nevin's secretary.

Flipping it open, she saw her handwriting still crisp and clear.

"1. He drinks a cup of hand-ground coffee every morning."

"2. He hates people being late."

"3. He can't stand women who wear perfume."

Page after page was filled with small details about him—his habits, his preferences, and his temper. Every line represented her dedication.

Only God knew what Demi had gone through to be a good secretary. People always thought being a secretary was easy, that it just meant being pretty and pleasing a man with their body. They had no idea how wrong they were.

Nevin was the only one who'd ever seen the truth. He'd seen her stay late night after night, reading contracts until her eyes hurt, building presentations from scratch, and researching every single competitor the company ever had. She could list every company's data and performance by heart.

It was because of her relentless effort that the untouchable Ice Prince of the Blackwell family finally stepped down from his pedestal and became the man everyone admired today.

Demi once believed Nevin understood her better than anyone else in the world. She thought their bond went deeper than love, that they shared the same dream, the same fight. She was wrong.

Ten years of devotion, ten years of struggle and love—all of it had turned into nothing but ashes.

Demi quietly focused on cleaning up her desk when the meeting ended. Rhea was the first to step out.

She looked quite cheerful at first, but the moment she saw Demi, her smile froze.

What is she doing here?

Did Demi see the post on Instagram? Is she here to confront me?

Rhea grew excited just thinking about it. She couldn't sit still as she went back to her desk, waiting nervously for the storm to hit.

She lowered her head, eyes red, looking like she'd just been terribly wronged.

Nevin was the last to leave the conference room. As he passed the secretary department, he noticed Demi sitting there.

Her desk was the closest to his office—a symbol of trust and affection back in the days when they were still in love.

But now, just the sight of her made him irritated.

What made it worse was how cheerful she looked. Demi was flipping through a book with a small smile on her face.

Across from her, Rhea sat miserably, dabbing her tears with a tissue.

Nevin frowned.

He tapped the edge of Demi's desk and said coldly, "Come in."

Demi looked up, her expression composed. "Okay," she replied simply.

The moment she stepped into his office, his voice turned icy.

"The company doesn't need you here anymore. Unless there's something important, don't show up in the office again."

Demi froze. No matter how many times Nevin had disappointed her, his cold voice still pierced her heart like a needle.

Her smile faded. "Alright," she said quietly, eyes downcast.

Nevin had expected Demi to fight back, maybe even yell. But her calm obedience caught him off guard. For the first time, he really looked at her.

Rhea was right. Demi had lost a lot of weight lately.

Maybe her nausea last night wasn't a jealous act after all.

Nevin pressed his lips together, his tone softening a little. "Ms. Dunn is doing great at her job. Your only duty now is to take care of Orion."

Then his voice turned sharp again. "I've told you many times—there's nothing going on between me and her. Demi, stop being dramatic. Don't make me regret choosing you as my wife."

Regret?

She smiled bitterly. If anyone regretted it, it was her. She had given up her family business and traded it for this hollow title as his wife.

Demi came from a prestigious family. Wouldn't it be better to go back and live as the beloved heiress of the Snow Group, adored and protected by everyone?

Closing her eyes, Demi pulled out an envelope and handed it to him. Her tone was polite but distant. "Mr. Blackwell, please approve my resignation. Starting tomorrow, I'll officially leave the company."

She turned to leave, but just as she reached the door, Nevin grabbed her arm.

"Demi?"

His voice carried surprise, as if he hadn't processed what just happened.

Nevin glanced down at the resignation letter in his hand, her signature printed clearly in black ink. His face darkened, anger flickering in his eyes.

"You're doing this out of spite?" he demanded.

"I thought you came here to make peace, but you're just making it worse?"

Demi kept her gaze low, her long lashes trembling slightly.

"No, Mr. Blackwell," she said calmly. "You said the company doesn't need me. Turns out, I feel the same way."

"Ten years have passed. This company isn't what it used to be," Demi said calmly. "Since everyone seems to adore Ms. Dunn, there's no point in me sitting around collecting a paycheck. I'd rather step down and make room for her."

Nevin let out a cold laugh. His eyes were sharp as blades, cutting straight through her words.

"Don't use these ten years to guilt-trip me. I know how much you've done for this company. You were a good employee once. But Demi, ever since you gave birth, you haven't been involved in business at all. I've been patient with you."

He leaned closer, his tone low and dismissive. "As long as you take care of our child, you'll always be the lady of the household. That's all I've ever asked, but you couldn't even manage that."

Nevin's voice grew harsher. "And now you want to step down gracefully? You just want to throw Rhea into the spotlight and make her take the blame. Demi, I know you too well. You're full of scheme, but I'm warning you don't be so vicious."

He paused, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Have you even apologized to Rhea for the incident happened last night?"

Apologize?

To the homewrecker destroyed my family?

Shouldn't Rhea be the one who owed me a thank you?

Demi suddenly laughed, the sound soft but cutting. She tilted her head, looking at him with calm curiosity. "You're right. I'm vicious. But tell me, Mr. Blackwell, have you ever thought about giving up the appearance?"

By giving up meant divorce.

They'd fought about it many times over the years. Every argument ended the same way—no resolution, just silence.

Nevin would never agree. Even if he cheated, Demi was still his wife.

That was the kind of man Nevin was—controlling, arrogant, and born to dominate.

At first, Demi didn't really want to leave. She just wanted him to look at her again, to remember she was there.

But now, she was tired.

A clean break, each walked their own ways.

Each of them had a child. That didn't sound so bad anymore.

Nevin's expression darkened like a storm. He grabbed her arm so hard it hurt, his grip full of rage.

"This is your last chance, Demi. If you keep failing, I'll have to find Orion a new mother."

He didn't stop there. "Do you know how many times Orion's told me he's miserable with you? No fun. No freedom. Nothing."

His voice turned to ice. "Why do you fail at everything—as a wife and as a mother?"

Failure.

Demi closed her eyes and let out a long, shaky breath.

So that's how it was.

All those nights she stayed up waiting for him, making him warm lemon tea after his drinking session was a failure.

The times she hand-washed his couture suits and got frostbite in the dead of winter—failure.

Even teaching their son advanced math to meet the high standards of being a heir of the Blackwells—still a failure.

There was no place left for her in this house.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Blackwell," she said quietly.

Her tone was calm, sincere.

A loser should know when to take her final bow.

Her other hand slipped into her pocket. She opened her phone and tapped the screen.

A countdown started—another 14 days to go.

When it hit zero, she would be gone. Completely. No more arguments, no more tears, no more bothering Nevin with her existence.

Her calmness caught him off guard.

Nevin wanted to say something—anything—but Demi didn't give him the chance.

She walked away resolutely. Nevin reached out to stop her, but his hand closed on nothing but air.

A sharp pain clenched his chest as he watched her go, a strange panic building inside him.

Nevin frowned, watching Demi walk away. It felt like something important, something he couldn't name was slipping further and further from him.

Once she stepped outside, Demi pulled out her phone and made a call to her best friend, Phoebe Lennon.

They used to be best friends, but they hadn't spoken in seven years.

Phoebe was a fashion designer who practically lived on airplanes, traveling across the country to tailor clothes for models.

Some were male, some female. Well, things sometimes happened between adults who worked that closely.

To put it simply, Phoebe changed boyfriends as easily as changing outfits. Nevin couldn't stand that about her. After Demi gave birth to Orion, he told her to stay away from Phoebe, worried she'd be a bad influence and corrupted their son.

And Demi listened. She actually listened. For six whole years, she cut off her oldest friend, just because her husband said so.

It had been a long time since Phoebe last heard from Demi. The moment she picked up, her voice was sharp with anger. "So you finally remembered me! I thought you'd completely lost your mind over that man. What happened? Regret finally hit you?"

Demi couldn't help but laugh through her tears.

Nevin's insults hadn't made her cry. Rhea's tricks hadn't made her cry. Even watching her son calling another woman mother hadn't broken her.

But hearing Phoebe's voice did. For the first time, she cried from regret.

"Yes," she admitted. "I regret it. Phoebe, Is it too late to come back to you now?"

Hearing Demi's sincere voice, there was a long pause on the other end. When Phoebe finally spoke again, her voice was trembling with tears too.

"It's never too late. You finally came to your senses. You idiot, do you know how hard it's been running the studio without you all these years?"

Her tone turned fierce again, full of emotion. "The entire art world's been waiting for you! Demi, being a corporate secretary is a waste of your gift. You were born to hold a brush—you're the greatest painter of our time, the last jewel of the Impressionists. I've been waiting for you."

"I'm sorry, Phoebe. I'm so sorry."

Standing on the busy street, Demi crouched down and sobbed.

She should've never forgotten who she was. She used to be so proud.

Born gifted, brilliant, and proud—Nevin never even knew that Demi had studied fine arts overseas.

Her graduation piece had been selected for the Janbus International Art Exhibition, shocking the art world.

After that, her paintings sold for seven-figure prices at auction.

And yet, she'd walked away from all of it. For the sake of living experience, she had taken a regular office job, learned administration, finance, and management and still excelled.

After ten long years away from her canvas, she decided she was done hiding. She was going home—to art, to herself.

After setting a date with Phoebe to hand over the studio, Demi went home.

She gave herself two weeks. Ten years was such a long time. There were too many loose ends to tie up before she could walk away for good.

The biggest issue at hand was the household itself.

The huge 5,000-square-foot villa didn't have a single helper because Nevin complained they were noisy.

So, Demi handled every bit of cleaning herself.

If she was going to leave, she wanted to do it gracefully—like a professional, like the perfect secretary she'd always been. That was her pride as the heiress of the Snows.

Rhea, of course, wasn't the type to do chores. Demi decided to find a good maid for her husband and son.

All day, she interviewed candidates. She asked them to cook soups the way Nevin liked them. That night, while Demi was having dinner, a panicked shout came from the door.

"Bill! Call the family doctor—now!"

It was Nevin's voice.

Demi froze. Being pregnant, the faint smell of blood made her sick.

Her heart twisted with worry.

What happened? Is he hurt?

She hurried toward the entrance—only to see Nevin rushing in, carrying a woman in his arms. Snow was falling outside, clinging to his hair and coat, but he didn't seem to notice.

Nevin laid the woman on the couch, voice tight with anger. "Where is the doctor? Get the doctor here, now!"

Demi didn't even have to look at the woman's face to know who she was.

Rhea.

Wrapped in a thick bedrobe, Demi stood aside and asked calmly, "What happened to her?"

The two had argued that morning, and Nevin barely spared her a glance now. His voice was sharp and cold; he wasn't in the mood to talk.

"She ran into a debt collector. Got stabbed in the shoulder."

"Debt collector?" Demi frowned. "Whose debt?"

She couldn't help but wonder—was the mighty CEO of Blackwell Group in financial trouble now?

Before Nevin could respond, Rhea—her face pale—spoke up weakly. "I'm sorry, Demi. This is all my fault."

"My dad owes money from gambling. Somehow those people found out I'm Mr. Blackwell's secretary. They tried to grab me on my way home. I fought back and got hurt. Luckily, Mr. Blackwell was working late and happened to be there. Otherwise, I might've been killed."

"Cut the crap!" Nevin interrupted sharply. "Don't say that. As long as I'm here, no one will hurt you. But your apartment isn't safe anymore. I've called the police. Until they catch the men, you'll stay at my house."

"No, she can't live here," Demi said firmly, without hesitation.

Nevin glanced up at her.

Her face was pale too, but hers was a healthy tone. Maybe because she'd finally quit her job and cleared things up with her friend, she actually looked lighter today.

Demi's cheeks held a soft flush. Her silk robe hung loosely over her frame, soft and elegant, like a lazy Persian cat basking in comfort.

The anger that had been simmering in Nevin all morning suddenly faded when he heard her refusal.

He turned his head slightly, a hint of mockery in his tone.

Of course. Another one of her little games—pretending to be calm while hiding her jealousy of Rhea.

His voice turned cold, and he warned, "Demi, this is my house."

He was the man of the house.

Whoever he wanted to keep—stayed.

"Still no," Demi replied, her voice sharp and steady.

"There aren't enough rooms. She has nowhere to sleep."

The villa was huge, three stories tall, but there were only three bedrooms suitable for sleeping.

One for Orion, one for Demi, and one for Nevin. That was it.

When they first married, there had been plenty of guest rooms, but Nevin—full of affection back then—had remodeled them all.

Now the villa had a luxury nursery, a walk-in closet, rooms for her art and yoga, and even a green room.

But no extra bedrooms.

All three bedrooms had once been planned by Nevin—for the son and daughter they hoped to have someday.

Back then, neither of them could've imagined that one day, their marriage would grow so cold that they'd sleep in separate rooms.

He hadn't expected Demi to use that as her reason for refusing Rhea to stay. Nevin's face darkened instantly.

His voice tightened with barely restrained anger. "Demi, you're sleeping in the master bedroom."

The meaning was clear. Nevin expected them to share a bed again.

After all, no matter how strained things had become, just three months ago they'd still shared that bed.

How else would the child in her stomach have come to be?

Demi no longer cared about this. That night three months ago had only happened because he was drunk.

There was no love, not even hate, just emptiness.

She stood her ground, refusing to budge. Her silence and defiance made Nevin's anger boil over.

Just then, a small voice broke through the tension. "Dad? Mom? What's going on?" Orion came down the stairs, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "I heard you two fighting again."

His words trailed off when he saw Rhea on the couch, her arm bandaged and a trace of blood still visible. His drowsiness vanished.

"Rhea!"

He ran to her side immediately. "What happened? Are you hurt? Does it hurt? Are you okay?"

Rhea smiled softly and patted his head. "I'm fine, cupcake. Go back to bed."

"No! You're hurt! I'm not sleeping until you feel better!"

The boy insisted, clinging tightly to Rhea's arm and refusing to let go.

Watching him clutch Rhea so affectionately, Demi let out a smile. "Don't worry, Orion," she said lightly. "Rhea will be staying with us for a few days. But since we're out of bedrooms, she'll have to share a room with you. Is that okay?"

"Really?!" Orion's eyes went wide with excitement.

"That's awesome—"

He suddenly covered his mouth mid-sentence.

"Wait—no, Mom! That's not what I meant."

He'd completely forgotten—Demi hated it when he got too close to Rhea. Once, he'd spent too long playing with Rhea and lost track of time. When he finally came home, Mom was furious.

From that day on, Dad taught him something. Never let your mom know how much you like Rhea or how kind she really is.

"It's fine. You can mean that," Demi said darkly.

Her cold hands slipped under her nightgown and rested on her stomach.

Now she finally understood what it meant to give birth to an ingrate.

She still remembered the day Orion was born. Demi had been in labor for two days. The doctors told Nevin they could only save one—her or the baby.

Nevin's eyes had turned red as he shouted outside the operating room, "Save Demi! Just save her!"

But she refused. Crying and begging through the pain, she asked the doctors to save the baby. She would give up everything but not the child she shared with Nevin.

In the end, she pushed through the pain. Demi gave birth to Orion naturally, without a dose of anesthesia.

She gave up her career and devoted herself completely to raising him.

And what did she get in return? A son who adored another woman and wished he could trade his mother for her.

Demi was exhausted.

Truth was, she hadn't even wanted this new baby. When the test came back positive last week, her first thought was to end it.

Life had already drained every bit of hope from her. She didn't want to give Nevin another child.

But now that she was leaving, a sliver of hope flickered inside of her again.

Without the weight of this family holding her back, maybe she and the baby could start fresh—live free, live better.

Realizing this, Demi decided to stop wasting her time and walked away.

Orion didn't understand why his mom was acting that way. He just stood there, staring blankly as she walked away. For a long time, he didn't move or make a sound. Then, the boy suddenly broke down crying.

Kids were sensitive, even when they didn't understand much.

But somewhere deep inside, through that invisible bond of blood, he felt it. His mother was leaving him for real.

"Waaah—!"

Rhea jumped at the sound, rushing over to comfort him. "Don't cry, Orion. I'm with you. Don't be scared, okay? I got you."

She looked up at Nevin, her big tearful eyes full of quiet accusation.

See? Demi made him cry again.

Nevin's face darkened. He glanced up toward the second floor, his gaze cold and heavy. Eventually, he said nothing.

Demi slept soundly through the night. The next morning, she came downstairs, planning to make herself breakfast.

But before she even reached the kitchen, the smell of food filled the air.

It was Rhea. She had already made breakfast for everyone and was now grinding coffee for Nevin by hand.

When Rhea saw Demi, she smiled politely. "Good morning, Demi. You're up! Come, I made sandwiches. I hope you'll like them."

"Rhea's cooking is wonderful. Who wouldn't like them?" Orion chimed in brightly.

Then he sneaked a glance at his mother, his face showing a mix of fear and guilt.

He was scared of his mom, and he hated her a little, too.

Mom seemed so strange lately. Why did she always look at me coldly?

Every time he praised Rhea, Demi used to get upset but would still try harder to please him. That way, he could use her guilt to skip tutoring and have more time to play.

Demi could almost guess what her son was thinking. She gave a small, ironic smile.

Did Orion really think I couldn't see through his little tricks?

Once upon a time, she had hated Rhea because she couldn't accept her husband had a lover.

When it came to Rhea caring for Orion, Demi had always turned a blind eye.

After all, Orion was the eldest grandson. When she gave birth, Erin Blackwell, her mother-in-law, had reminded her countless times never to relax with the boy's education.

Demi had always wanted him to grow up happy. She knew her son was lively and sweet.

He loved comic books, video games, and the outdoors. But as Nevin's wife and the well-known Mrs. Blackwell in high society, she had to appear strict and proper.

Because of this, Orion would often run to his father and complain she was too harsh.

What he didn't know was that Demi had studied every major education system from around the world. She tried her best to balance discipline with play.

On the outside, she looked serious and unkind. But back when Rhea was her intern, Demi had personally drawn a set of storybook manuals and asked her to use them to help Orion learn through play.

Orion's favorite dish—orange-glazed fish—was one Rhea had learned directly from Demi.

Demi never imagined that what she once taught with care would someday cut her like a knife. Her face turned cold, a trace of disbelief and quiet despair in her eyes.

"What are you wearing?" She asked flatly.

She didn't expect Demi's first words to be that. Rhea hesitated, her voice small and timid.

"I-it's a dress. I didn't have any clean clothes last night, so I just grabbed one from the closet. Demi, what's wrong?"

What's wrong?

A stranger was standing there in her clothes, making coffee for her husband and breakfast for her son. And Rhea had the nerve to ask what was wrong?

Nevin sensed Demi was about to make a scene. He frowned and cut in, "Demi, it's just a dress. Don't overreact."

He added, almost impatiently, "You still have the card I gave you. You can buy a hundred new ones."

Demi let out a short, bitter laugh.

Her stomach twisted. She wasn't sure if it was from morning sickness or disgust.

"Nevin," she said quietly, "did you forget what that dress was?"

It was the dress she'd worn for their first night together.

Back then, Demi had just graduated—young, curious, and full of dreams.

At a business party, she thought she could help her company land a million-dollar deal. She drank too much trying to impress the clients, only to realize too late that someone had spiked her drink. That night, by accident and fate, she ended up in bed with Nevin.

The next morning, she woke up to find her clothes torn beyond repair. She sat on the edge of the bed, face burning red with embarrassment.

Nevin had found her shy reaction adorable. He sent his assistant to buy her that couture dress and later transferred her to be his personal secretary.

Demi remembered every detail. That dress marked the beginning of everything between them.

Nevin had forgotten all of it. He even let Rhea wear the same thing she once had. It was revolting.

Nevin stared at Demi, trying to read her face. A mocking smile tugged at his lips, and a strange glint flickered in his dark eyes.

"What is it?" he asked coldly. "Say it.

"Demi, are you seriously this sentimental over a dress?"

Sensing the tension rising in the room, Rhea hurried forward, grabbing Demi's hand as if frightened.

"Demi, please don't blame Mr. Blackwell," Rhea said softly, her voice trembling. "He didn't know anything. I put it on without asking.

"Mr. Blackwell felt sorry for me that he didn't make me take it off. I didn't realize it bothered you so much.

"I'm so sorry, Demi. I'll change it out now. Please don't be upset!"

Rhea pleaded softly, eyes brimming with tears that threatened to fall at any second.

Demi felt sick. She yanked her hand away. "It's fine. That dress looks great on you. It's yours now."

She gave a faint, bitter smile. "In fact, take whatever you like from my closet. Clothes, shoes—whatever catches your eye, including ... "

Her gaze lifted to Nevin. She let out a mocking smile.

"Everything I have in this house is yours."

"Demi!"

Nevin finally lost control at the declaration. He slammed his hand on the table, his voice bursting with anger.

"Do you have to push her into corner?"

Demi laughed faintly, her tone icy. "I'm not the one doing the pushing here, Nevin. You two are."

Ring! Ring!

A notification tone cut through the tension. Demi glanced at her phone.

Countdown: 13 days left.

At this rate, she thought, she might not even last until then.

Every day, Nevin managed to push her a little further, testing just how much of her pride she had left.

Today it was a dress. What would it be tomorrow?

Her thoughts froze when she caught a faint scent from Rhea's body—perfume.

Perfume?

The scent was faint at first, almost like natural body fragrance. From a distance, Demi hadn't noticed it, but up close, it was strong and unmistakable.

Her face went pale. Demi had always been sensitive to smells. Her mind flashed to the rule she'd once written in her notebook.

3. He can't stand women who wear perfume.

A bitter laugh rose in her chest. So that's how it is, Nevin.

All your rules disappear the moment she's around?

Demi suddenly laughed, but tears slipped down her cheeks without warning. In that instant, she realized she couldn't wait for the countdown anymore.

She just wanted to leave now.

Her parents were waiting. Her grandfather was waiting. Even her childhood friends were waiting.

So why was she still here? Why was Nevin still standing there, letting another woman humiliate her, letting Rhea trample over the ten best years of her life?

"If you think I'm pushing you," Nevin said coldly, "then get out of my house."

His eyes were sharp, his voice cutting. Nevin finally exploded.

"All you ever do is sulk around the house like the world owes you something. Demi, didn't you say you wanted a divorce? Fine. Let's do it."

Demi's chest rose and fell, her voice shaking with emotion. "Fine! Then let's—"

She didn't finish. Her breath caught as she clutched her chest, face turning red, gasping for air.

Her wide eyes darted toward Rhea in disbelief.

That perfume.

It's a floral scent!

Demi's lips twisted into a faint, broken smile. "Nevin, if you wanted me dead," she spoke hoarsely, "you could've just said so."

Then everything went black.