Martha's heart pounded wildly, echoing through her ears like a raging drum. She could swear she was on the verge of a heart attack, but it was merely a panic attack, fueled by her spiraling thoughts. Rage surged from her core, spreading to the furthest edges of her being. Her blood simmered, bubbling with an intoxicating mix of fear and anger. The fear of losing everything was unbearable. Her image, her prosperous career, the sizable monthly alimony Hunter had generously provided after their divorce—all threatened to slip away from her grasp. Her palms were slick with sweat, her face flushed and feverish, her mind teetering on the brink of madness. All because of Christine. Christine, the unending thorn in her flesh, her perpetual tormentor. Always outshining her with her radiant beauty, her effervescent charm, and her razor-sharp intellect. A constant specter casting an impenetrable shadow over Martha, rendering her invisible by comparison. "Martha, you're next! You need to go in!"

A sudden wave of panic squeezed Christine's heart, causing it to beat against her ribcage like a trapped bird. She pressed her eyes shut simultaneously as she tightened her hold on Ethan, pulling him closer into the safety of her embrace. "Mommy!" The frightened call from her son brought her back, his voice laced with a heart-wrenching mix of fear and worry. "Daddy... Daddy's hurt!" Her eyes sprang open, widening in shock and terror at the sight before her. Hunter sprawled on the ground, Simon standing nearby, his expression one of pure torment. From the looks of it, Hunter had shoved Simon out of harm's way, receiving the full impact himself. "No, sweetheart! He's fine, just...just resting a bit," she managed to stammer out, her voice sounding alien even to her own ears. "Mommy!" "You'll see, sweetheart! You'll see!" She tried to reassure him, her own heart trembling with fear. The driver appeared ghostly pale, yanking at his own hair in distress. "I didn't do anything, I didn't

'Step aside? I am in her way? She has the nerve to boss me around?' Disbelief swirled in Elenora's mind, causing her to question the validity of her own senses. She felt as though she were in some bizarre hallucination. It was the only plausible explanation for the audacity on display. A sneer twisted her features as she stared at Christine. "And where exactly do you presume you're going?" Her lips formed a thin, hard line, an unmistakable sign of her mounting irritation. Exasperated, Christine didn't hold back. "Out of my way!" With a forceful shove, she sidestepped Elenora and entered the premises, her ears tuning out the incensed shouting fading into the background. Then, she began her search, her gaze scanning every room, every corner. Elenora, trailing behind, looked on with wide-eyed shock at her stepdaughter's brazen behavior. 'Where is Hunter?' she wondered. 'Wasn't he supposed to be home resting? Where could he have disappeared to? I will turn this place upside down if I

"Oh, she has taken her leave, I see!" Elenora's voice came out feather-light and deceptively kind, though she failed to mask the sigh of palpable relief that slipped out. Hunter's gaze then shifted to Martha, his eyes studying her with newfound curiosity before voicing his nagging question. "Martha, you never mentioned having a stepsister before. Was she at our wedding? Have I perhaps met her before?" There had always been a sense of déjà vu lingering around Christine, but after failing repeatedly to pinpoint why she seemed familiar, he had cast it aside. 'Not at the wedding, but in the hotel room on our wedding night,' Martha's inner voice bitterly reminded her. Christine had been the first to lay claim to what was supposed to be hers, and she, Martha, had handed him to her rival on a silver platter. "No, she didn't attend the wedding, and you didn't meet her before. As I recall, she said she had other commitments," Martha explained, trying to keep her voice steady. "Our shared hi

Christine couldn't help but roll her eyes as she read through the text messages sent by Jake. His revelation was anything but surprising; it was the exact scenario she had already predicted in her mind. His text read, "There's a man poking around, asking questions about you. You were right to warn me about this. How did you see it coming?" A sense of distaste filled her as she thought about the reason behind her forewarning. "Let's just say," she replied, "that it wasn't exactly rocket science. My stepmother is as predictable as they come." Jake then asked, "Do you want me to intervene and stop him?" She pondered for a moment before responding, "Why bother? Should we stop him from earning his paycheck? As far as I'm concerned, I have nothing to hide." "But are you certain? What if he digs up that one particular incident?" Jake asked, a hint of anxiety seeping into his message. Christine, however, was not fazed. "Even if he does, there's no solid evidence left. You made sure of th