Part 7.1

I stared at Rowena, my brow furrowing. What did she mean—only I could leave, while my children had to stay?

“You think I don’t know your little scheme?” she went on, her voice dripping with suspicion. “You plan to take them away and then bleed Dominic dry every month under the pretense of living expenses—for them, of course. Though I assume that conveniently includes your own.”

For a moment, I was speechless.

Was that really how they saw me?

Was I that materialistic in their eyes? That cruel—that I would use my own children as leverage for money?

My hands clenched into fists, every ounce of restraint poured into stopping myself from slapping the woman who used to be my mother-in-law. Instead, a soft, mocking laugh slipped from my lips.

“Do you want me to add a clause to the divorce stating that I won’t take a single cent from your son?” I shot back, my voice sharp with irritation.

Rowena stiffened, her expression tightening with offense.

“Let me make this clear,” I continued coldly. “No matter what happens—even if I die—I will never use my daughters as a tool to extort their father. And even in death, I’ll make sure they live comfortably, with dignity—without ever having to lower themselves by begging from their grandmother, their aunt, or even their own father.”

My gaze swept across every member of the Pierce family before settling on Diana.

“I won’t let my children sell their dignity… or turn them into bargaining chips.”

The insult landed exactly where I intended. Diana instinctively wrapped her arms around her stomach, protective, her face tilting up toward Dominic with a pitiful look—seeking reassurance, attention.

“I may have been sick,” I went on firmly, “but that was in the past. Right now, I’m far healthier—and far more sane—than all of you.” My voice didn’t waver. “I still have two hands and two feet. I can work. I can provide for my daughters.”

Rowena clicked her tongue in disdain.

“Don’t think that just because I stayed at home—waiting for your son, serving this family—that I was ever completely dependent on him, Mrs. Pierce.”

Amelia let out an inelegant scoff, clearly unconvinced.

Maybe she didn’t believe me.

That was fine.

Soon enough—after I was gone—they would realize that every word I said was the truth.

“And what exactly can you do for Chelsea and Elena?” Amelia sneered, clearly aiming to humiliate me. “At best, you’ll crawl back to your old job as a sales clerk in some accessory shop and beg your former boss to take you in again.”

“Working as a shop assistant is still better than being unemployed and living off other people’s handouts,” I shot back.

Her eyes widened instantly.

“You—” She started, but stopped herself midway. Then, slowly, a smile crept onto her face. She lifted her chin, arrogance written all over her expression. “Well, the good news is—I’m no longer unemployed. Starting next week, I’ll be working at Seraphie Plaza. And do you want to know my position? Back office.” Her voice brimmed with pride.

I pressed my lips together, holding back a laugh.

“I hope you last there,” I replied, not entirely sincere.

Amelia frowned, confusion flickering across her face, but only for a second before she recovered.

“But here’s the bad news—for you, of course,” she added smugly. “Diana is close friends with the manager at Maison Beauwell. Which means she can make sure you’ll never be hired there again.”

Now it was my turn to frown, trying to recall who my last manager had been when I worked there. But my thoughts were cut short when Eva returned, guiding Chelsea by the hand while carrying Elena in her arms.

Elena was fast asleep, oblivious to everything around her. Chelsea, on the other hand, came straight to me, reaching for my hand the moment I held it out.

“Sweetheart… do you want to come with Mommy?” I asked gently, careful not to pressure her.

Even though I wanted her to come with me more than anything, I wouldn’t force her. If staying here—with her grandmother, her aunt, and her father—felt like the safer choice for now, then I would let her. And if not… I would try to persuade her another time.

“Where are we going, Mommy?”

“Mommy is leaving this house—with Elena and Eva. If you want to come with me, we’ll go today.”

She hesitated, then looked up at me again.

“What about Daddy?”

Chelsea looked at her father for a few seconds. Then her gaze drifted to Diana’s hand, wrapped possessively around his arm.

For a fleeting moment, I wanted to lash out at that woman—how could she compete with a child like this? But I held myself back.

“Daddy will stay here,” I said softly, “with Aunt Amelia and your grandmother.”

“With Aunt Diana… and Dominic and Tobby?” Chelsea looked up at me again, her innocent eyes searching.

I nodded.

I could see the tears gathering in those clear little eyes. Her small hand tightened around mine, gripping far more firmly than it should have.

“I’ll go with you, Mommy,” she said, her voice catching.

I nodded, pulling her into my arms—these frail arms that still tried their best to protect her—and gently stroked her hair.

“Then say goodbye to your father,” I murmured as I pushed myself to stand. I forced strength into my posture, even though my knees felt like they might give out at any moment.

Chelsea looked at Dominic.

But when she saw that he made no move to free himself from Diana’s hold, she slowly shook her head.

“If you take them away, they won’t get anything from my son.” Rowena’s voice cut in again, laced with threat.