Chapter 2

"You’re the older sister. You’ve always been the sensible one. Just treat this as helping her out. Give in a little."

I hung up immediately, pressing my back hard against the cold elevator wall.

Even my own mother was in on it. My whole family was feeding off me.

I staggered back to the small apartment.

Everywhere I looked, there were traces of Cody. The height markings I had drawn for him were still on the doorframe. His toys were scattered across the couch.

I gasped for breath as I tore through drawers and cabinets. I dumped out every drawer Dorian owned, scattering everything across the floor.

Finally, at the bottom of a metal box hidden in the nightstand, I found Cody’s birth certificate.

Mother: Summer Vantor.

Father: Dorian Vantor.

The birth date was eleven days earlier than my due date.

Inside the box was also a property deed. Only Dorian’s name was on it.

The $400,000 I had put down as a deposit and the $120,000 in premarital savings were all for nothing.

I flipped the box upside down. Beneath a pile of messy receipts, a yellowed slip fell out. It was an anonymous donation receipt from Sunshine Children’s Home on the outskirts of the city.

The date was a month after I gave birth.

The amount: just $2,000.

Dorian had never been charitable. He would curse at beggars on the street without hesitation. So why would he donate to some remote children’s home?

The door lock clicked.

Dorian stepped inside. His eyes flickered with panic at the mess on the floor and the birth certificate in my hand.

He quickly replaced it with a gentle expression, pulling a cake box and a silk scarf from behind his back.

"Lenora, don’t be mad. I got your favorite Mont Blanc cake from that French bakery and the scarf you liked but didn’t want to splurge on.

"Mom’s been pressuring me. The Vantor family needs a son.

"You lost too much blood back then… You won’t be able to have children anymore. Just treat Cody as your own. I swear, I’ll never divorce you."

Memories of those years of trying to conceive flooded my mind. To give Dorian a child, I had suffered through everything.

99 stabilization shots. My abdomen had turned bruised and hardened, covered in knots so dense the needle could barely go in.

Back then, Dorian had held my hand tightly, his eyes red, crying like a child. "Lenora, let’s stop. I can’t stand seeing you go through this. We can stay child-free forever. You’ll always come first to me."

His tears had fallen onto the back of my hand, burning hot.

And now, he spoke gently, while laying out a cruel calculation.

My gaze froze on the cake. Inside the clear box, one corner of the cake was missing. Someone had already taken a bite. On the edge of the scarf, there was a faint smear of lipstick.

My limbs turned cold.

Suddenly, I remembered a post Summer had made just an hour ago.

"Things I don’t want anymore always find their way to someone willing to take them off my hands."

The photo showed this exact cake and scarf. Dorian had brought me her leftovers as if they were gifts.

My stomach twisted violently. I grabbed the cake and scarf and hurled them at his face.

"Get out. Take your mistress’s trash with you."

Dorian wiped the cream off his face, his expression darkening. "Lenora, don’t push your luck."

He pulled out a stack of cash from his wallet and slammed it onto the table. "This is for household expenses this month. Tomorrow is kindergarten registration. Make sure you take Cody."

Then he turned and slammed the door behind him.