Chapter 3: The Deadly Misunderstanding

Silence—or rather, deathly stillness—was the mansion’s only constant.

I felt like a plant forgotten in a corner, clinging to the remnants of self-respect, barely surviving. I avoided leaving my room, especially to avoid encounters with Ethan. He still hadn’t returned, which gave my tense nerves a brief reprieve.

But the wind never ceases for a tree that wishes to stay still.

That afternoon, Mrs. Zhou suddenly knocked on my door, her tone unusually urgent:

“Miss Lane, Mrs. Caldwell requests you downstairs. Guests have arrived.”

Guests? My heart tightened. For me, “guests” meant another round of forced smiles and humiliation. I adjusted my simple cotton dress, took a deep breath, and followed her downstairs.

In the living room, I found not only Mother-in-law but Ethan as well.

He sat at the main seat on the sofa, legs crossed, wearing a perfectly tailored dark suit, his expression colder than ever. He was looking down at his phone, frowning, focused on something important.

Beside him sat a woman.

A stunning woman.

She wore a soft cream-colored suit, her long hair gently curled, exuding a gentle and refined aura. Her skin was fair, her features delicate like a porcelain doll. She leaned slightly toward Ethan, speaking softly, lips curved in a tender smile.

Although Ethan showed little expression, he was no longer as distant as usual. He even nodded slightly as she spoke.

My chest tightened as if an invisible hand had gripped it, making my breath shallow.

Intuition told me she was Olivia Chen—the woman Monica had mentioned, the one for whom Ethan had splurged on the diamond necklace. The woman he truly cherished.

Vivian’s smile froze me in place when she saw me:

“Sophia, come down! Look who’s here—this is Olivia, a good friend of Ethan’s, just returned from abroad. I hope we’re not disturbing you.”

Notice her word choice: “we,” not “I.” She deliberately placed me in an awkward position.

Olivia rose gracefully, extending her hand:

“You must be Sophia Lane. So lovely. I’m Olivia, and I’ve known Ethan for many years. I hope I’m not intruding.”

Her voice was soft and pleasant. Her hand warm and gentle.

I barely managed a handshake, fingers icy.

“Hello, Olivia.” My voice was dry.

“Call me Olivia, not Miss Chen,” she said with a gentle smile, pulling me to sit beside her as if we were old friends. “I’ve heard so much about you from Aunt Vivian. Ethan’s busy; if you feel bored, we can go shopping or have tea anytime.”

Every word seemed kind yet pricked my heart like a soft blade. She claimed familiarity with this house and Ethan, highlighting my redundancy as a mere decoration.

Ethan finally looked up from his phone, his gaze briefly resting on my pale face before moving away, indifferent.

Vivian added with a smile:

“Yes, Olivia is very thoughtful. If only Ethan had…,” she paused meaningfully.

Olivia blushed slightly, feigning embarrassment.

“Aunt, you tease me again.”

The scene seemed like a harmonious family, and I was the intruder.

I sat on pins and needles, unable to respond, eyes glued to my clasped hands.

Soon, Olivia lifted her tea, blowing gently, but suddenly, “Ah!” The hot tea spilled over her fair wrist and her expensive dress!

“It’s so hot!” she cried, eyes watering.

“How careless!” Ethan’s expression changed instantly; he jumped up, checking her wrist. “Mrs. Zhou! Ice and burn ointment, quickly!”

Vivian panicked too, “Oh dear, what a disaster! The dress!”

I instinctively rose, wanting to help.

But just as my fingers neared the fabric, Olivia recoiled, moving behind Ethan, eyes wide with an almost imperceptible fear—making it seem as if I had intentionally harmed her.

Ethan’s eyes locked on me, no longer indifferent but full of contempt and fury.

“Sophia Lane! What are you scheming now?”

I froze, mind blank.

“I… I wasn’t… I just wanted to help her…”

“Help her?” he sneered. “You only cause trouble. You think these hidden tricks change anything?”

He stepped forward, towering over me. The pressure made me lift my head, nearly suffocating.

His cold fingers grabbed my chin, forcing me to face his furious gaze.

“Sophia, stop using your dirty thoughts on her. You aren’t worth a single hair on her head. Recognize your place, behave, and if I see these tricks again, don’t blame me!”

He let go and turned, carefully helping Olivia, tone suddenly gentle:

“Come, let’s get this treated at the hospital.”

Vivian hurried behind, instructing the driver.

No one glanced at me. No one asked if I was hurt.

The living room emptied, leaving me alone.

Tea stains spread across the table like the ugly marks on my wedding dress.

The chill from Ethan’s fingers and the pain from my back collided, yet I felt nothing.

I sank to the floor, knees hugged, burying my face, the poisonous words echoing in my ears:

“Dirty thoughts…”

“Not worth a hair on her head…”

“Know your place…”

In his eyes, I was truly worthless. No explanation was allowed. A tiny gesture condemned me.

Cold despair engulfed me, almost suffocating.

I slowly crouched, trembling, hugging my knees.

This time, I did not cry.

The luxurious cage was too cold. It froze the last flicker of warmth in my heart.