Chapter 3: The Mask Begins to Crack

Ravelle remained motionless where she stood.

The world around her seemed to move in slow motion, testing every limit of mental endurance she possessed. The words Calysta had just spoken no longer shattered her heart; instead, they crystallized a deep sense of disgust.

“Oh, Ravelle? You're home already, Darling?”

Kyle's voice broke the silence of the hallway.

The man turned and noticed her presence. With the warm, hypocritical smile he had displayed for the past ten years, he rose from the sofa and quickly walked toward her.

Kyle wrapped his arms around Ravelle.

The scent of his masculine cologne, which had once always been a source of comfort for Ravelle, now smelled like the stench of a rotting corpse.

“Happy tenth anniversary, Darling,” Kyle whispered into her ear before kissing her temple with carefully crafted tenderness. “I'm sorry I couldn't come home on time last night. The company audit really took up all of my time until this morning.”

Company audit?

Ravelle sneered inwardly.

Her business-minded brain screamed, 'This bastard has no idea he's talking to Alpha Crimson, the person who has complete control over Stevens Corporation's audit reporting system.'

With extraordinary emotional control—a legacy of the harsh upbringing she had received from her grandfather in the Branson family—Ravelle did not slap him.

She did not explode.

Instead, she returned the embrace, patting Kyle's back slowly while her eyes stared directly at Jessica, who was sitting on the sofa.

“It's alright, Kyle. I know how... 'hard' you worked last night,” Ravelle replied, her voice sounding gentle yet carrying a dangerous double meaning.

Kyle released her and studied Ravelle's pale face.

“Where have you been, Darling? You look tired.”

Ravelle opened her bag and took out a black velvet box.

However, it was not the luxury watch she had purchased with her savings. It was a gift box she had deliberately prepared this morning after leaving the Civil Registry Office—a replica designer watch worth no more than a few dollars, bought from a roadside wholesale shop.

'A fake husband only deserves a fake gift,' Ravelle thought coldly.

“I went out to pick this up. An anniversary gift,” Ravelle said as she handed it over.

Kyle's eyes lit up as he opened the box.

“My God, Ravelle... this is a limited edition that's incredibly hard to find! Thank you, Darling. You're truly the wife who understands me best.”

The man immediately put it on proudly, completely unaware that the item on his wrist was a cheap replica.

Across the room, Jessica's expression changed dramatically.

The secretary gripped a sofa cushion tightly. Her eyes flashed with jealousy and anger as she watched their apparent affection.

Meanwhile, little Calysta looked at Ravelle with a challenging gaze, deliberately holding Jessica's hand even tighter.

“I’m going upstairs, Kyle. I suddenly have a terrible headache,” Ravelle said as she stepped back.

“Of course. Lean back and get some rest. You look very pale. I'll have a servant bring some warm tea to your room,” Kyle said with false concern.

Ravelle turned around and climbed the grand wooden staircase leading to the second floor.

She had barely made it halfway when Calysta's shrill voice rang out from below again, deliberately loud enough to be heard.

“Daddy! I want Mommy Jessica to live here forever! I only want Mommy Jessica!”

“Calysta, Sweetheart... you need to be patient,” Jessica's voice sounded sweet, filled with nauseating pretense. “Very soon... Mommy will live here with you and Daddy. We'll be a complete family. Just wait a little longer, okay?”

Ravelle's footsteps paused briefly on the stairs.

Her mind immediately traveled back seven years ago, when Kyle had brought a baby girl into this house.

Kyle had claimed the baby was the orphaned daughter of an old friend who had died in an accident and that he wanted to adopt her to ease Ravelle's grief after their family doctor had declared her infertile.

Ravelle remembered staying awake through countless nights, carrying and feeding baby Calysta whenever she cried endlessly.

Yet strangely enough, one day when Jessica came to the house to deliver documents, the baby immediately calmed down and fell asleep the moment she was in Jessica's arms.

At the time, Jessica had said with tearful eyes, “I just lost my baby during childbirth a few months ago, Mrs. Ravelle. Perhaps my maternal instincts are still strong, so this baby feels comfortable with me.”

Ravelle gripped the staircase railing tightly.

Her foolishness in the past now felt like the most ridiculous joke imaginable.

Maternal instincts?

Lost a baby?

'Bastards. Calysta isn't an orphan. She was crying because she missed the scent of her biological mother, and could Jessica actually be her biological mother!'

The moment she entered the master bedroom, Ravelle immediately locked the door.

There was no time to cry.

She only had three days.

She walked straight toward Kyle's private study inside the bedroom.

In the corner of the room stood a high-security digital steel safe.

Kyle had always forbidden her from touching it, claiming, “It only contains confidential Stevens Corporation documents, audit matters, shares, and complicated legal issues, Darling. I don't want to stress you out with business matters.”

In the past, Ravelle had obeyed him.

But Kyle had forgotten one thing: Ravelle was the top graduate of Wharton.

Hacking or discovering the encryption code of a digital safe like this was extremely easy for her.

Three months ago, she had already installed an invisible micro-camera on the ceiling to record the movements of Kyle's fingers whenever he entered the combination.

Ravelle took out her phone, opened the old recording, and entered the correct access code.

The safe door opened.

With swift and tactical movements, Ravelle examined the documents inside.

She skimmed past ordinary stock files until her hand found a thick black folder at the very bottom.

When she opened it, the first document she saw was:

Official Marriage Certificate Between Kyle Stevens and Jessica Hepburn, registered exactly eight years ago.

Beneath it was a second document:

Calysta Evans' Birth Certificate

Father's Name: Kyle Stevens.

Mother's Name: Jessica Hepburn.

Ravelle's breath caught in her throat.

Even though she had already suspected it, seeing the physical proof before her eyes still made her chest ache painfully.

This charade had been executed perfectly.

Yet amid her anger, her analytical mind immediately caught a legal inconsistency.

She frowned and read page after page of corporate documents tucked beneath the certificates.

'If Kyle and Jessica have been legally married for eight years... If Calysta is their biological daughter... why did Kyle go through so much trouble to hide this divorce from me? Why did he keep me in this house as his "wife" in the public eye for eight years?'

Kyle had absolutely no idea that she was the sole heiress of the Branson family.

To Kyle, Ravelle was merely a lonely girl with no one in the world.

Therefore, the Branson family's wealth was clearly not the reason.

Ravelle's eyes narrowed as she read the third legal document:

Patent Rights and Core Technology System Ownership Agreement of Stevens Corporation.

It clearly stated:

All technology patents and primary operational systems of the company are bound under the intellectual property ownership structure of Ravelle Caleste, and cannot be transferred without written consent or unless the first party (Ravelle) dies or voluntarily relinquishes her rights without condition.

Aha.

A cold and terrifying smile appeared on Ravelle's pale face.

The core technology system that made Stevens Corporation worth billions of dollars and ready to go public within the next few months was a system Ravelle herself had designed years ago.

If Kyle openly cast her aside before the company went public, he would lose his rights to the technology, and Stevens Corporation would collapse instantly.

He had kept her here, pretending to be a loving husband, solely to exploit her until the IPO process was completed and the stock stabilized.

After that, he would undoubtedly throw Ravelle away without giving her a single cent.

“You want to use my assets to support your whore and your illegitimate child, Kyle?” Ravelle whispered, her voice as cold as the depths of the ocean.

She took out her phone and photographed every page of the documents inside the folder before returning everything to its original position with meticulous care, leaving no trace behind.

She closed the steel safe once again.

Ravelle walked toward the large mirror in her room.

The wounded look in her eyes had now completely transformed into the gaze of a ruler preparing to devour her prey.

“Three days,” she said to her reflection.

“In these three days, I won't just take back what belongs to me, Kyle. I will make sure Stevens Corporation collapses before it ever touches the stock market, and I will make you crawl to my feet begging for forgiveness.”