Chapter 3

Wendy's POV

Colin stepped forward and grabbed my wrist, his grip painfully tight.

"Wendy, what's with this attitude?" he demanded, his voice heavy with irritation.

"Just sorting through some old junk and getting rid of it," I replied coldly.

I tried to pull my hand free, but his grip only tightened.

Simon visibly relaxed.

A moment later, he pouted and complained, "Mom! You're no fun! You were the one who agreed to let Ava come with me. So why are you giving everyone such an attitude now?"

Ava stepped forward right on cue, her face a perfect mix of concern and innocence.

"Wendy, are you upset with me? I was just helping out as a friend and keeping Simon company..."

As usual, she used the word "friend" to justify everything she did, as if it were some kind of universal shield.

Everyone turned a blind eye, silently giving her permission to cross every boundary imaginable.

Yet whenever I questioned her, I was immediately accused of making a scene and dismissed as someone who didn't understand how high society worked.

But this time, I wasn't going to play along.

I yanked my wrist free from Colin's grasp, a faint, cold smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

"Ms. Levine, you're overthinking it," I said smoothly. "You love helping people take care of their children so much that you even volunteer to stand in for their mothers at sports days. If anything, I should be thanking you."

The air in the room froze.

Simon bristled with anger. "Mom! How can you say something like that?" he shrieked.

Colin's expression darkened.

"Wendy Sinclair! Watch your mouth and remember your place!" he warned. "Ava was only trying to help. Is this how you treat a guest?"

Ava's eyes welled up with tears right on cue, making her look pitiful and completely helpless.

Simon lost all restraint and screamed at me, "It's no wonder my younger brother and sister died before they were born! They must not have wanted a terrible mother like you!"

The blood in my veins seemed to freeze, and a bone-chilling cold swept through my limbs.

So, they were capable of standing up for someone after all. It was just never for me.

The doctor's words echoed in my mind.

"Your miscarriage was caused by your body never fully recovering after you gave birth to Simon, combined with years of emotional strain and depression..."

And now, my own son spat such vicious words at me, all for the sake of another woman.

Colin snapped, "Simon!"

Then, he turned to me, his voice slipping into that familiar, dismissive tone he always used to smooth things over.

"He's just a child. Don't take it to heart."

Just a child? Was that all it took to brush aside all the hurt he'd caused?

Just then, Colin's gaze drifted past me to the pile of expensive clothes I'd cleared out and dumped in the living room like trash. His eyes then fell on the half-empty closet.

For the first time, genuine shock flickered across his face.

Ava followed his gaze and immediately caught on.

"Mr. Fraser, please don't blame Wendy," she said, feigning concern. "No wonder she was willing to let me come along to the sports day today. She must have wanted to clear out her old things to make room for all the new things you're going to buy her."

At her words, the doubt on Colin's face vanished, replaced by a smug look of certainty.

This was the Wendy he knew—the woman who spent her life chasing material possessions, using luxury goods to fill the emptiness inside her.

Without a second thought, he pulled out his phone and called his assistant, Ethan Carter.

"Send over a complete set of this season's new arrivals," he ordered smoothly before hanging up.

Then he turned to me, his expression calm and indifferent, as though he were doing a favor for someone beneath him.

"There," he said. "Are you happy now?"