Masuk(Patricia's POV)
“What… what did you just say?” Mason’s voice shook with confusion. “I want a divorce,” I repeated, my throat tight. The room went still. No one moved. Their faces froze... shock, anger, disbelief moving across them like shadows. Mason’s eyes widened, as if those were the last words he ever thought he would hear from me. “You?” Elizabeth was the first to snap, pointing her finger at me. “How dare you? Asking for a divorce from my son? Who do you think you are?” Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air. My chest ached, my heart pounded, but I gripped my dress tightly, forcing myself to stay calm. “Do you even know what you’re saying? Useless woman… always whining, always failing. And now you think you can leave my son?” Gilbert barked, his voice booming. “I’m sure she doesn’t mean it,” Lucy said, folding her arms. “She’s just throwing another tantrum. As always. You know how dramatic she is.” Mason blinked, finally getting hold of himself. He hurried to me and held my hands firmly. “Pat, are you mad at me? Is that why you’re saying this? We can talk it over…” His voice carried panic. Talk it over? Really? What exactly did he want us to talk about? Why he claimed Rose as his wife? Or how he had stood there while I was insulted, bullied, and treated like dirt in this house, never once stepping in to protect me? I gulped, forcing back my tears, and quickly pulled my hands away. “There’s nothing to talk about,” I whispered. “Patricia, stop this nonsense,” he said, his voice low with frustration. “How can you even think of leaving? You have nothing out there. This is your home. If you walk away, where will you even go?” And there it was. The truth. What they had always believed. That I was trapped. That I would endure anything because I had nowhere else to run. “Homeless girl acting strong…” Lucy mocked. “Want me to remind you who you really are? A lonely, poor girl. My brother picked you out of the gutters and gave you a name. You want to crawl back there now?” “Lucy…” Mason called weakly, almost pleading. He had always been weak in front of his family. He never stood up for me. But it didn’t matter anymore because I was done. Without a word, I walked across the room. Their voices followed me, full of laughter, mockery, disbelief. I reached the shelf, pulled open the drawer, and drew out the envelope I had hidden there for months. I had prayed I would never need it. But today proved me wrong. The papers felt heavy in my hand, as if they carried all the years of pain I had endured. I walked back to Mason, placed them on the table in front of him. “Sign the papers, Mason.” I said. The Bedfords erupted again, their anger spilling over. “You ungrateful thing!” Gilbert sneered. “After all we’ve done for you, this is how you repay us?” Elizabeth scoffed, glaring at the papers. “This marriage should have ended long ago. Mason should have done it himself.” Their words stabbed at me, but I stood still, refusing to break this time. "Don’t flatter yourself, Patricia." Elizabeth went on "You’re not the one leaving. Mason is the one divorcing you... for being the useless wife you’ve always been.” Lucy laughed loudly. “Yes. The world will know the truth. You failed him, and he dumped you.” It was always about their pride, their image. But I wasn’t here to argue or defend myself anymore. I just wanted freedom. Whatever they chose to tell the world, I didn’t care. All I wanted was his signature. “And you better not be asking for anything,” Lucy sneered, snatching the papers. “Because you’re not leaving here with a cent.” She flipped through them, then frowned. “Well?” Elizabeth asked. “Well, nothing,” Lucy said flatly, dropping the papers back on the table. “This proud fool isn’t asking for a thing.” Mason’s head jerked up, his eyes searching my face. “What?” he muttered. “Sign it,” Gilbert said firmly, sliding the papers toward him. “She’s never been useful to you anyway.” “Exactly,” Elizabeth agreed. “Now you can marry Rose and give us the family we deserve. Children. A happy home. This one has brought you nothing but shame.” I looked at Mason. The man I had once believed would protect me. His eyes burned with something between hurt and anger. “You’re ungrateful,” he said coldly. “After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me?" He pulled a pen, pushed the paper closer, his face shut tight. "You’ll regret this, Patricia. Don’t come crawling back later. Don’t you dare.” His hand moved. The pen scratched against the paper. With that single stroke, the tie between us was cut. I should have felt fear, but I didn't. Instead, I felt lighter than I had in years. He shoved the papers back at me, his pride wounded, his voice bitter. “You’ve hurt me more than you know. I never thought you’d be so selfish. Walking away just like this.” My heart broke at his words. Who really hurt who, Mason? Wasn’t your betrayal the knife that cut me deepest? If choosing my peace makes me selfish, then so be it. I pressed the papers to my chest and quietly turned my back on all of them, heading for the stairs when Elizabeth’s voice stopped me. "And where do you think you're going?" Her tone was sharp as a whip. I froze mid-step, my fingers tightening around the papers. “You have no right to be here anymore,” Lucy sneered. “You are divorced. You don’t belong in this house.” The words cut deeper than I expected. I turned slowly, staring at them in disbelief. “You want me to leave now? It’s late and it’s raining.” “You should have thought about that before asking for a divorce,” Gilbert said coldly. My throat tightened. It wasn't safe to leave right now. “Please…" I choked "let me stay till morning. I’ll leave when it’s light.” Elizabeth scoffed. “No sweetheart. This isn’t a charity for the homeless.” My heart trembled. Did they really want me to leave tonight? “Then..." I swallowed hard "I’ll just go pack my things.” “What things?” Lucy snapped. “Everything you wear, everything you use... Mason bought it. You don’t own a single pin here. You leave with nothing.” Nothing. The word burned. Not even my own clothes? Before I could even think, Lucy seized one of my arms. Rose dug into the other, her nails scratching deep into my skin. “Wait... don’t...” I tried to pull back, but their grip tightened like iron. They dragged me to the door, ignoring my pleas, not even caring that Mason stood nearby. The front door opened, and the cold night hit me like ice. Rain splashed against my face as they pushed me outside. In seconds the rain soaked through my dress. My hair stuck to my face and my teeth shook. Panic flooded me as I stared at the dark, empty street. “Please!” my voice broke “Don’t do this. It’s dangerous out here.” My eyes darted to Mason, who stood just beyond the doorway, his face unreadable. “Mason, please. Let me stay in the staff quarters for tonight. Just until morning.” For a second, his eyes softened, almost like he still cared. But before he could say anything, Rose pushed me hard. I gasped as I fell forward. My knees hit the hard steps, then my stomach slammed against the pavement. The pain was quick, sharp and brutal, like fire tearing through my womb. “Ahhh!!” The scream tore out of me. Rain swallowed my voice, but I cried out again, clutching my stomach. My vision blurred as tears mixed with the rain ran down my face. Mason moved forward, but Gilbert’s hand reached out to hold him back. “She’s fine. Just another performance.” he said. “She’s always so dramatic,” Elizabeth added. “Don’t let her fool you.” I could barely hear their voices over my loud heartbeat and the pain tearing through me. “Mason!” I cried again, my hand reaching toward him. He didn’t move. He just stood there, held back by his family. Then they turned and went inside, closing the door and locking it behind them. They left me there. I lay there, trembling in the storm. My arms shook as I tried to crawl across the stones, hoping someone would come. Maybe the gardeners. Maybe the guards. Someone. Anyone. But no one came. Each breath made me weaker. My body sank to the ground as the pain spread through me. The rain blurred the house, the sky, even my own tears. At last, my eyes shut, and darkness swallowed me.To my wonderful readers,Thank you so much for staying with me until the very end of this story. Your time, support, and patience mean more to me than words can fully express.This is my first book, and while it may have small errors or imperfections, it was written with deep passion and commitment. I learned a lot through this journey, and every chapter helped me grow as a writer.Your encouragement has shown me that this dream is worth pursuing. I promise to come back stronger, wiser, and better in my future projects. This is only the beginning.Thank you for believing in my story.With gratitude,Author.
(Patricia's POV)The warm smell of potato soup drifted from the kitchen, filling the air. It had become my favorite dish lately."Hmmm... so delicious," I said, inhaling deeply as I stepped into the kitchen.Raymond stood by the stove, wearing an apron, a spoon in his hand, stirring the pot like cooking was his full-time job.A sweet smile spread across my lips as I folded my arms and leaned against the wall, just watching him.It wasn’t the first time he had cooked for me. In fact, ever since he learned I was craving potato soup, he always made time to cook it. But every time I saw him in that apron, my craving grew even stronger. I couldn’t tell if I wanted the food… or him. He looked unbelievably hot."I didn’t know you were back already," I finally said, my voice soft, with a smile.Raymond turned immediately, surprised to see me. He hadn’t realized I’d been standing there for a while.His face lit up with a wide smile as he lowered the spoon.“You were asleep when I got home,” he
(Patricia's POV)Sabrina stood by the door, her eyes filled with something I couldn’t understand. She played with her fingers nervously, like someone unsure of what to say. Did she really follow me in here?She had called me by my middle name. Not Mrs. Addison. Not even Mrs. Salvador. Why had she addressed me so casually? We were not close. Or… could it be..?No... There was no way she was here because she already knew I was her daughter. Maybe this was about the recent challenge her family company was facing. Since Henry could no longer approach me, maybe she had come herself.I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart, and turned back to face the mirror.“Hello, Mrs. Wilton,” I greeted, my tone calm and distant.“H-how… are you doing?” she asked, her voice trembling.My eyes narrowed slightly in surprise. Why was she being so informal today? I watched her through the mirror and noticed how nervous she looked.“I… I heard about Alonso,” she began, her voice unsteady, “and a
(Patricia’s POV)A month passed by in the blink of an eye, yet everything felt different. Life had not been the same since I discovered who my real parents were. I stayed away from the Smithfield Empire, not wanting anything to do with Mr. Smith, my supposed late father. I hadn’t gone to see Mrs. Sabrina Wilton either. There was no reason to. She had abandoned me back then, so why should I go looking for her now? Besides, she might not even know who I truly was... and even if she did, she might still not want me.Raymond had been my backbone through it all. His gunshot wound was healing well, and he had recovered greatly. He could walk properly now and had even returned to work, though he was careful not to stress his injury. He was the best man I could ever ask for. He understood my pain and was always there to support me. He told me he would stand by whatever decision I made... whether I chose to return to Smithfield or to speak with Sabrina.He also made sure Alonso received t
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(Patricia’s POV)Gold bars worth twice the value of the company were neatly arranged inside the safe. Some documents lay in one corner. Just one glance at them told me they were extremely important.There were other valuables too, but only one thing caught my attention… a photograph of Mr. Smith with Mrs. Wilton, Henry’s adoptive mother... the same woman whose picture I had once seen at the orphanage.Mr. Smith and that woman looked genuinely happy and oddly close in the picture, almost like they were a couple. My brows furrowed immediately.“Were they together?” I murmured in shock.I had heard that Mr. Wilton and Mr. Smith were friends in the past. But this woman was Mr. Wilton’s wife. Did she date Smith first, or were they having an affair?Why would Smith keep this picture locked inside his safe? Was he still in love with her? Since Mr. Smith never married, could it be that he loved another man’s wife?Was this the reason the two friends drifted apart and became enemies? That sing







