Chapter 3

With that, I pulled my suitcase and walked out without looking back, leaving behind the cage that had trapped me for eighteen years.

Behind me, I could hear Luke’s smug laughter, followed by Kim’s dismissive snort.

“Regret it? Without the Fosters, let’s see how many days you can even survive!”

If anything, I was about to live a lot longer.

I moved into an apartment in the city center that Grandpa had secretly left me before he passed.

Sitting down, I let out a long breath.

The truth was that I had tolerated Kim’s affairs all this time not because of love, but because of him.

Back then, after my parents died, it was Grandpa Foster who pulled me out of the mud. He paid for my education. He gave me dignity.

On his deathbed, he held my hand and told me his greatest wish was to see the family’s descendants grow into capable people.

He said he knew Kim had been spoiled since childhood and couldn’t be relied on. If the Fosters were left in her hands, it would fall apart eventually.

As long as I could raise a Foster child to adulthood, when they were eighteen and able to carry responsibility, the shares in Kim’s hands would become mine.

So I endured Kim’s infidelity and Luke’s constant provocation, all for the sake of raising Samantha properly.

Love had nothing to do with it.

Now, the task was complete.

Three more days, and it would be time to receive what was rightfully mine.

With that thought, I had the most peaceful sleep I’d had in eighteen years.

Meanwhile, back at the Foster villa, Kim woke up from her hangover at exactly seven in the morning, her head pounding.

Out of habit, she called out with her eyes still closed, “Dylan, where’s my honey water? Why isn’t it here yet?”

Silence filled the room. No one answered.

At this hour before, I would have already prepared a full breakfast, ironed her work outfit, and been ready at her call.

But today, there was nothing.

Kim frowned and sat up, irritation rising. “Dylan! Are you deaf?”

The bedroom door opened.

However, it wasn’t Dylan who walked in, but Luke, still in his pajamas.

“Kim, what are you yelling for? That guy’s already been kicked out.”

Kim froze for a moment.

Her fragmented memory from the hangover only left her with the vague impression that she had argued with Dylan. She had forgotten what had happened and what she had done.

She just assumed Dylan was throwing a tantrum.

Pressing her fingers to her temples, she said impatiently, “Then where’s the water? My head hurts.”

“Oh, right. I’ll get it for you.”

Luke hurried downstairs in a fluster. It took him quite a while before he came back with a glass of water.

Kim took a sip, then slammed the glass heavily onto the table.

“Why is it cold? I want warm honey water! Don’t you know I need honey water after drinking?”

Luke spread his hands, looking innocent.

“I… I didn’t know. Dylan always handled that before…”

“Alright, alright, stop standing there. You’re annoying just to look at.”

“In a couple of days, when Dylan comes back, I’ll have him make it for me.”

Irritated, Kim got up and walked into the dressing room.

But the moment she opened the wardrobe, she was dumbfounded.