Chapter 3

I stared at her, my eyes fixing on the faint hickey on her pale neck—the one I had left just last night that hadn't fully faded. "Oh, stop messing around, Wanda. I'm really sorry about yesterday, but look at what I brought you…"

I forced a smile and held up the jewelry box in my hand, reaching out to hug her out of habit.

Wanda slapped me hard across the face and bellowed, "Who the hell do you think you are? You freaking lunatic! You'd better leave now, or I'm calling the police!"

I clutched my cheek, stunned into silence.

I smelled unfamiliar men's cologne, then saw a man walk out from behind Wanda and casually place his hand on her waist. It was Henry.

He wore the same pajamas I did, his hair disheveled as if he had just gotten out of bed. He frowned at me as if I were an unwelcome visitor. "Who are you? Why are you making so much noise first thing in the morning?"

I felt my blood rush to my head as I completely lost my composure. I pointed at him and screamed at Wanda. "It's me! It's Christian—your husband! Where's our son? Where's Nathan?"

Wanda shrank back into Henry's arms, staring at me as if I had lost my mind. "I don't know you! I don't have a son either!"

How could Nathan not be around?

I shoved Henry aside and rushed into the house. I recognized the decor and the furniture, but when I ran to my son's room and pushed the door open, I found no crib inside, no toys, and not a single trace of a child ever living there. There were women's clothes and handbags instead.

Nathan's bedroom had become Wanda's walk-in closet.

I fell to the floor, feeling a chill spread through my entire body.

There were two uniformed security guards who burst in and hauled me up by the arms. "Please leave the premises, sir!"

They roughly dragged me along, and as we passed the living room, I saw Wanda wrapped tightly around Henry, while he looked at me with utter contempt, as if I were a piece of garbage.

In that instant, the front door slammed shut right in front of me.

I was dumped onto the cold floor, looking utterly pathetic. How could this be happening? I had been holding Wanda and Nathan just last night. I had even been celebrating my company's soaring stock price.

I suddenly recalled I still had the company to rely on. I had hundreds of employees, and they all knew me. Henry could pay Wanda off, but there was no way he could buy everyone's loyalty.

I got up from the floor and raced toward the elevator in a panic. I practically stumbled out of the complex before flagging down a cab. "Go to Global Center! Hurry!"

It usually took 40 minutes to get there, but I made it in 20 minutes. I rushed into the office building, where the young receptionist I had personally brought on board politely stopped me. "Good morning. May I ask who you're here to see?"

I pushed past her and rushed straight toward the CEO's office at the end of the corridor. I noticed that the door wasn't locked, so I pushed it open and went inside.

Henry was seated behind the expensive mahogany desk worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, signing papers with his head bowed. He raised his head at the sound and looked annoyed when he saw me. "You again?"

He reached for the phone on his desk and dialed the security extension. "Get over here and throw him out of my office!"

It didn't take long for two security guards to rush in and grab me again, one on each side.

I struggled to break free, my eyes bloodshot as I glared at him. "It's my company! That's my seat! Who gave you the right to sit there, Henry?"

I was dragged out of the office all the same. I was hauled down the long hallway, and I noticed the employees who had been smiling at me the day before now looked at me as though I had lost my mind.

On the glass doors at the company entrance, the CEO's name was displayed clearly beneath the company logo—Henry Johnson.

I slumped to the ground outside the company, completely drained. I was completely overwhelmed with anger, humiliation, and a deep sense of helplessness. How could this happen? Hadn't I just gone to the cemetery to deal with those talismans? Everything had to be fake!

I pulled out my phone and, with what little strength I had left, called the police. "Is this the police? I'd like to report someone who stole everything from me!"

The police arrived soon, along with Henry and Wanda. Henry presented their marriage certificate, the house's title deed, and the paperwork for all the company shares. Henry's name was on every document—as the homeowner or the company's legal representative.

The lead police officer looked from the documents to me, his brow furrowing. "What's your name? May I take a look at your passport?"

I handed my passport to the police officer, but he barely looked at it before giving me a suspicious look. "Is this passport of yours fake?"