3

Niana remained frozen in front of the laptop. The sounds of Patricia and Sean’s moans in the video were like razor blades slicing through her sanity. Her hands gripped the edge of the vanity so hard her knuckles turned stark white. Just as she was about to forcefully slam the cursed screen shut, the screech of tires braking suddenly in the front yard shattered the silence.

Sean was back.

Niana heard the car door slam with such violence that the echo of the thud vibrated up to the second floor. It was followed by the sound of frantic, heavy footsteps rushing up the stairs in a state of sheer panic. Sean had never been this unhinged.

Did he just realize he left this "treasure" at home?

Niana took a shallow breath that felt like it was strangling her lungs. She didn't move an inch. She remained seated at her vanity, letting the laptop stay on, the video frame frozen on a scene where Sean was passionately kissing Patricia’s neck.

The bedroom door swung open, hitting the wall with a deafening bang. Sean stood there, his breath coming in ragged bursts, his Tom Ford blazer slightly disheveled. The face that had been so sweet and loving this morning was now consumed by deep anxiety, which transformed in an instant into a dark fury as his eyes locked onto the bright glow of the laptop screen.

"Niana..." Sean’s voice was low, vibrating between rage and a warning. It wasn't the voice of a guilty husband; it was the snarl of a cornered predator.

Niana turned slowly. Her tears had already dried, leaving salty, stinging trails on her cheeks. Her gaze was hollow and dead, as if her soul had already departed from her body.

"You left something behind, Sean. Or should I call it... The X Baby?"

A deathly silence enveloped the room for several seconds. Sean didn't show a single trace of regret. Instead, he strode across the room, reached the vanity, and slammed the laptop shut with a rough thud.

"You shouldn't have touched my private belongings, Niana. That is a breach of privacy," Sean said coldly. His voice was flat, as chilling as freshly frozen ice. He loomed over Niana, looking at his wife with an expression she had never seen in three years—a gaze that was alien, sharp, and filled with loathing.

"Privacy?" Niana let out a bitter laugh. It cracked in the back of her throat, sounding like the noise of shattering glass. "You’re talking about privacy after you’ve slept with my stepmother in this house? In the bed we’ve shared for three years, Sean?! Since when? Since when did you make me the clown in this disgusting play?"

Every word that left Niana’s mouth felt like a dagger she was plunging into her own chest. Three years. She had given all her love, her youth, and even sacrificed her writing career to be the perfect wife for a man who didn't even view her as a human being. Every memory of morning kisses, warm hugs in the rain, and promises of a future... it was all just trash wrapped in beautiful gift paper.

"Stop screaming, Niana. You’re giving me a headache," Sean rubbed his face harshly, looking utterly revolted. "I never intended to hurt you as long as you remained an obedient wife who didn't ask too many questions. But you destroyed your own comfort by rummaging through my things."

"Comfort? You call this betrayal comfort?!" Niana stepped forward, pounding on Sean’s chest with weak fists. "I loved you, Sean! I looked after this home with my own hands! I maintained your reputation in front of all your colleagues! I’m even—"

Niana went suddenly silent. The word "pregnant" was on the tip of her tongue, ready to explode. She wanted to scream that there was a life in her womb, a child only eight weeks old, just to make this demonic man realize how depraved his actions were. However, just as Niana was about to reveal the secret, Sean pulled a phone from his pocket and pressed a button with a swift motion.

"Come in. She knows everything," Sean said briefly into the call, his eyes remaining cold as he stared at Niana.

Niana fell still, her breath hitching in her throat. Shortly after, the click of high heels echoed against the marble floor of the corridor. The bedroom door opened again. Patricia walked in with immense grace, as if she were walking down a red carpet. She was still wearing an expensive Burberry trench coat, looking perfectly calm and refreshed, showing no signs of a woman who had just committed adultery.

"Hello, Niana darling," Patricia greeted. Her voice was as soft as ever, but this time there was a note of triumph she no longer bothered to hide. The fake tenderness of a stepmother was gone. "I'm sorry you had to find out now. Sean wanted to wait until you were a bit more stable, at least until our business dealings were officially concluded."

Niana looked at them one by one. Sean and Patricia. The two people she had trusted most in the world were now standing side by side against her. The nausea that had briefly subsided returned with double the force, churning her stomach until she had to grab the bedpost to keep from collapsing.

"You... the two of you are absolute monsters," Niana hissed with deep-seated hatred.

"Don't blame me, Niana," Patricia stepped closer, the pungent scent of her floral perfume feeling like it was choking Niana’s throat. "Sean has been mine for a long time. We were together even before your poor father brought me into this house. Your bankrupt father was just a useful diversion to get initial capital, and you... you were merely the intermediary so Sean could legally seize all the Prescott assets."

Niana was stunned. Prescott assets? "What do you mean? My father’s company recovered because Sean invested capital!"

Sean snorted in amusement, as if listening to a child's joke. "You really are naive, Niana. I never invested capital. I simply rotated your family’s collateralized assets, paid off small debts with larger ones in your name, and then transferred all ownership to shell companies. And now, the slate is clean."

"Enough, Patricia," Sean interrupted, appearing to have lost his patience for further arguing. He walked toward his briefcase lying on a chair, opened it with efficient movements, and pulled out a thick, dark blue folder.

Niana stared at the folder with a furrowed brow and a racing heart. "What is that now?"

"Honestly, I wanted to give you this next month, after the final merger project was finished and you no longer had any utility," Sean thrust the folder toward Niana. "But since you already know, there’s no point in delaying this farce. These are divorce papers."

Niana’s world seemed to explode. He had already prepared them? This man had planned to discard her even before she found that damn video. Everything she had built over three years—trust, devotion, and love—turned out to be nothing more than a transition period for Sean to subtly rob her family of their wealth.

"You won't get a single penny of the Miller fortune," Sean continued without a hint of remorse. "Even the Prescott assets you think are yours were fully transferred into Patricia’s name last month. That was our true wedding dowry. You can leave now, or I’ll have security drag you out like a vagrant."

Niana stared at the folder, then her eyes moved to Patricia’s hand, which was now proudly stroking her own stomach—a silent gesture that was more painful than a slap.

Patricia was also pregnant.

Niana swallowed all the pain burning in her chest. She abandoned her intention to confess her pregnancy. No. My child will not have a father like you. You don't deserve to know of their existence, let alone touch them with your filthy hands.

"I’m leaving," Niana said. Her voice suddenly turned incredibly cold and calm, a stillness that even made Sean flinch slightly in surprise. "Not because you’re kicking me out, Sean. But because I refuse to breathe the same air as trash like the two of you. The oxygen in this house has become too toxic for me."

Niana grabbed a pen from the vanity with a hand that no longer trembled. With one sharp stroke, she signed the papers—severing every tie, every hope, and every bit of her suffering in a single second.

Niana threw the folder back at Sean’s chest with a rough shove. She grabbed her handbag and stood with her head held high, even though her legs felt like they were made of cotton. She walked toward the door without glancing back once at the bed that had witnessed his lies.

However, right at the threshold, Niana paused. She turned slightly, looking at Sean and Patricia with a gaze that would haunt them forever.

"Thank you for showing me who you really are tonight," Niana said in a voice that was low yet sharp. "Enjoy the wealth you stole from my father, Sean. But remember one thing... someday, when you lose everything and come crawling to my feet to beg for mercy, I will make sure the world knows just how low a man Sean Miller truly is. Goodbye, and I hope you rot with this woman."