He Said I Failed His Test

For five years, I'd taken bullets and blades for Mike, walked through hell and back for him. Just yesterday, we were still planning our future now that the debt was almost cleared. Today, I was told I'd failed the test and it was over.

I couldn't seem to register a single word Linda said. She must have seen the disbelief on my face, because something like guilt flickered in her eyes. She pushed her phone toward me. On the screen, Mike looked radiant, more alive than I'd ever seen him.

"I, Mike, heir to the Cassa family, hereby formally conclude my five-year trial."

"I have successfully consolidated the underground forces of New York and proven my capability to the family."

The room erupted in applause. Beside him stood an old man, clapping him on the shoulder with undisguised admiration. The Godfather of the Cassa family, a figure who existed only in rumors.

Mike smiled at the camera, utterly composed. "This trial tested more than ruthlessness. It was a stress test of human nature under extreme pressure. I needed to prove that even with nothing, I could find a loyal and worthy partner. Regrettably... I failed that part of the test."

Failed? I'd navigated every faction for him, counted every penny to pay off his debt faster, and to Mike, it was just a failed test? He thought I was some woman he could toss aside whenever he pleased?

Linda shut off the phone and tried to comfort me. "You're too emotional, Emma."

"What Mike needs is a wife who brings him value, not some nursemaid who only fusses over his meals and feelings."

Linda sat in my home like she owned it, drinking from my coffee mug. "Emma, don't be sad. You and Mike were never anything but a test. Now Mike's just gone back to the life that belongs to him. You want him to be happy, don't you?"

Then she pulled a document from her Hermès bag. "The divorce agreement. Mike's already signed it. As compensation, he's willing to give you five million so you'll never have to worry about money again."

I stared at the papers. Ridiculous. Since when did I, Emma, need someone's charity to keep food on the table?

Jasper, mine and Mike's son, came running down the stairs just then. He ran toward me, but Linda caught him around the waist and kissed his forehead. "Jasper, I'm your real mommy! Mommy's taking you to see Daddy, okay? Let's go home together."

Jasper panicked. "Let go of me, you bad woman! I want my mom! I don't want you!"

Linda held on anyway, smiling as she informed me, "Forgot to mention, Jasper is Mike's and my child. You couldn't conceive back then, and Mike didn't want to break your heart, so he had me carry the baby. I'm Jasper's biological mother. It's time to take him home."

Jasper burst into tears. I reached for him. He was hysterical, thrashing, desperate for me to hold him. "Mommy! I want Mommy!"

Linda wouldn't let go. She said it plain: I couldn't give Jasper a better life. "Emma, all you can do is make sure he eats and sleeps. You're too poor to give him more. Isn't Jasper better off with me, his real mother?"

I loved Jasper. For five years, every penny I scraped together went to the debt, to my son, to my husband. But in Linda's eyes, I was just a shabby substitute, easily replaced.

Maybe this time, I'd acted the part too well. That's why everyone had gotten the wrong idea about me.

In the chaos, my phone rang. Mike.

"Emma, did you sign?"

"Why?" I forced out the word with everything I had.

A soft laugh on the other end. "Why else? Because you're useless."

"Emma, you and I were never from the same world. The game's over. Take the money and go quietly. Don't make me feel like these five years were a complete waste."

The call ended. Linda slid a bank card across the table. "The PIN is Jasper's birthday."

She paused, then added, "Oh, sorry. The birthday you thought was Jasper's."