2

Chapter 2.

I froze at the doorway the moment I stepped back into the mansion. My heart was thudding loudly in my chest as I took in the house I left behind.

It's been three years since I last stepped foot inside, and I smiled as I took it in. It was almost the same as I remembered, apart from some subtle changes.

As I moved further inside, I realized that the television was on. My brows drew together in confusion as I stepped into the living room, where the TV was roaring in full volume.

Who had turned it on? Or did Derrick now leave the house with the electrical appliances left on?

As these thoughts swirled in my head, my eyes were drawn to the images displayed on the screen. And there it was: my shame and disgrace playing live for the entire world to see.

The wedding I had been dragged out of, my husband's wedding, was trending mostly because I dared to slap the golden girl of the people, the actress they worshipped, the woman who's married my husband, whom I once thought loved me.

Comments flooded the bottom of the screen in an endless stream. People who didn’t know me but hated me anyway were typing cruel words.

“She deserves jail for ruining this event.”

“How dare she slap Florida? Our perfect princess.”

“She’s always been a snake. Now the world knows it.”

“Stealing from him and still acting bold? Trash!”

On and on it went as their words cut deep into me, sharper than knives. Their insults were pressing against my chest until it was hard for me to breathe.

They called me names I never thought would be attached to me. Names like: Filth. Gold digger. Thief. Trash. A sorry excuse for a wife.

And the worst part was that they didn’t even know the truth.

I sank onto the couch and clutched the hem of my dress so tightly that my knuckles turned white. My throat felt raw, and my heart was torn between anger and sorrow.

For a brief and fragile moment, I let myself sink into memory—into the cruel twist of fate that had brought me here.

I remembered the night Derrick came to me, his face pale as his body trembled like a boy who was caught stealing sugar in his father’s kitchen. The only difference was that what he stole wasn’t sugar—it was millions.

“Clara,” he had whispered, “you have to help me. You’re the only one I can trust.”

I had just given birth then. My body was still tender, my emotions were raw, and my heart was entirely his.

He stood at the edge of the bed with desperation in his eyes. And though every instinct told me something was wrong, my foolish, loyal heart beat only for him.

“What is it, Derrick?” I had asked, cradling our newborn, as exhaustion took over me.

“I took money,” he confessed, “I had to. Father wouldn’t listen. He doesn’t believe in me or my ideas. He treats me like I’m nothing compared to my brother. But I have a plan, Clara, I swear it. There's an investment that will change everything.”

After a brief silence, he continued. “I’ll triple the money. But if he finds out…if he knows I took it…he’ll strip me of everything. He’ll give the company to my brother. And I can’t lose it. I can’t lose my birthright.”

He sank to his knees beside me and grabbed my hands.

“Please. Please, Clara. Take the blame. If it comes out, let it fall on you. He already hates you, doesn’t he? He never wanted me to marry you because you’re the adopted daughter of his rival. He’ll believe it was you. He’ll arrest you, yes, but I’ll fix it. I’ll find a way to clear you. Just—please—don’t let him see me as a thief. Don’t let him take everything from me.”

I saw the man I loved, broken and terrified of the consequences of his actions. His eyes glistened with tears, his voice raw with pain.

And in that moment, I didn’t see manipulation. I didn't see how it made no sense for a man to claim to love me yet want me to take a fall just weeks after I had given birth.

I saw a man who believed his dreams were slipping away, and I couldn’t bear to watch him shatter.

So I agreed. I let the world believe I was the thief.

And his father didn’t hesitate. The moment he heard the word “stolen,” his finger pointed straight at me. He ordered my arrest like he had been waiting for this chance.

And through it all, I told myself it was worth it. That Derrick would protect me, that he would redeem me, that love meant sacrifice.

How blind I was. How stupid I was to think that. I must really look like a fool now.

A sob rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down, pressing my palm against my chest as if I could hold my breaking heart together.

I can't cry, I refuse to let myself cry. He doesn't deserve it, she doesn't deserve it.

If there is anything I learnt from prison, it's that tears make you weak. And that weakness will be your downfall.

I dragged myself off the couch to get some water. I was desperate for something to wash away what I felt.

The kitchen felt like it was miles away, and I staggered, trying to hold myself together as I moved.

And that's when I heard a sound like someone was crying somewhere in the mansion, and I froze.

At first, I thought it was my imagination. Maybe the pain of the heartache and betrayal I felt in my chest was getting to me.

But no—it was real. I moved closer and found out it was a faint sound coming from the room at the end of the hallway.

I stopped in my tracks as my heart sped up. Who else was here?

The mansion was supposed to be empty. Derrick had gone straight from the ceremony to his public appearances, trying to show his fake perfection.

The staff in the mansion had long been dismissed. Yet I'm sure of what I heard: quiet sobs muffled behind a closed door.

Curiosity pushed me forward, even though every muscle in my body and all my instincts screamed at me to turn back.

My bare feet moved silently over the tiles, and my fingers were trembling as I reached the door. I pressed my ear against the cool wood and waited.

My body jumps back as a loud bang echoes through the room, whipping my body around. I take a step backwards.

But it's too late. The door slowly crept open, causing my eyes to widen at the sight before me.

“What!!”