Chapter 1

In the third year of her marriage, on the day Caleb Hampton's older brother died, Sydney Wilson asked for a divorce.

Caleb frowned in confusion. "All because I took a slap for Penny?"

'Penny. How affectionately he said her name,' Sydney thought.

The truth was, Penelope Monroe was his sister-in-law.

Sydney smiled coldly. "Yeah. That's why."

Could a single slap really shatter a marriage? The red mark on Caleb's face that night was hard to ignore. He had shielded Penelope so openly that even the Hampton family had been stunned. Only Sydney had not flinched.

Three days earlier, on their wedding anniversary…

Sydney had planned a surprise trip and taken a late-night flight to the city where Caleb worked. Instead of a warm reunion, she overheard him chatting with two friends.

"Caleb, man, I gotta say it. Running off every year on your anniversary? That's cold. Sydney's been nothing but good to you."

Caleb, usually composed and gentlemanly, looked weary. "You think I want this? If I didn't avoid her, she'd never believe I haven't touched her all these years."

"She…" One friend, clearly holding back, finally snapped. "You mean Penelope? Caleb, are you out of your mind? Are you gonna keep pining after her even if she's got another kid on the way?"

He snorted. "And what about Sydney? You keep treating her like this. Aren't you afraid Julian Sterling's gonna come after you?"

"He won't." Caleb rubbed his fingers together calmly. "She married me. That was it for them. Julian's had her blocked on WhatsApp for three years now."

Outside the room, Sydney walked away quietly. Her steps were steady, but her fingers trembled almost imperceptibly.

She had suspected someone else. She had asked around, tried to find out who, but no one had said a word. She had guessed many possibilities but never thought it would be Penelope—the same "sister-in-law" she had greeted politely for three years.

'OHHHH, how humiliating,' she thought bitterly.

When Sydney left the club, the sky opened up. She did not react as the rain drenched her like a broken doll.

That night, she took a late flight back to Jouleston.

The moment she got home, she fell ill. She burned with fever for two days. Just as she started to recover, Lucas Hampton, Caleb's older brother, had an accident.

…

A week later, Lucas's funeral was held in Jouleston.

Sydney had barely slept two or three hours each night at the Hampton residence. After the funeral, as she stepped out of the cemetery, her body moved forward while her soul dragged behind.

Their driver waited at the gate.

Sydney climbed in and closed her eyes. "Jack, take me home."

"Not going back to the family house?" he asked.

"No."

The funeral was over, but the drama at the Hamptons had just begun.

Lucas was the eldest son and the family's golden child. He died because Penelope had insisted on skydiving. His equipment failed, and he fell from high altitude. By the time they reached the hospital, it was to stitch his body, not to save him.

The Hampton family's fury at Penelope had not cooled. Sydney had no interest in watching her husband defend another woman. She had her own life to manage.

Unexpectedly, as the car started moving, the rear door opened.

Caleb stood there, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. Tall, lean, composed, but with a rare flicker of discomfort on his face.

"Syd, heading home?" he asked.

"Mm." Sydney barely glanced before spotting the woman next to him. It was Penelope, and she was holding a chubby little boy.

Penelope and Lucas' son, Timothy Hampton, was four years old. He was round and soft like a beach ball.

Before Sydney could ask what they were doing there, Timothy scrambled into the car as if it was his. "Aunt Sydney, can you give me and Mommy a ride home?"

Sydney furrowed her brow and glanced at Caleb.

He pressed his lips together. "Mom and Dad are still furious. Let Penny and Timmy stay at our place for now."

Seeing her hesitation, he added, "Didn't you say you wanted a kid? Now's a good time to practice with Timmy."

Sydney almost laughed out loud, then remembered where she was and held it in.

So now he was sending Penelope and her son to stay with them while he faced the heat back at the Hamptons? What a noble man.

…

Back home, the housekeeper, Nancy Potts, had already prepared the guest room. Caleb must have called ahead.

Sydney did not care. After a shower, she collapsed into bed and slept like the dead. When she finally woke, it was 9:00 p.m. As she reached for her phone, it rang. It was her best friend, Tiffany Voss.

"I've drafted the divorce agreement just like you wanted. Want me to send it over for you to review?" Tiffany asked.

"Thanks, Ms. Voss, my beloved lawyer." Sydney's voice was groggy and soft. "No need. Just call a courier and have it delivered."

"You're in a rush?" Tiffany sounded concerned. "Are you sure about this? Caleb might not be the best husband, but in some ways…"

Sydney switched on the lamp and sat up. Her head cleared. "I'm sure, Tiff. I caught him jer-king off to another woman's photo."

Chapter 2

"What?" Tiffany's mind blanked for a second. She hadn't expected someone as reserved as Sydney to blurt out something like that.

But what stunned her more was Caleb actually had the nerve to humiliate Sydney like this.

Tiffany muttered a curse under her breath, then said, "Screw delivery. I'll bring the agreement myself. Then I'll head back to the office and work overtime."

There was no way she was letting some two-wheeled courier outrun her four wheels today.

After hanging up, even Sydney was surprised by how easily the words had come out. Maybe it was because the resentment had been building for so long, clogging her chest, her thoughts, every part of her.

Just like that night at the club, when Caleb had said it himself—he had never touched her. No one would believe it, but after three years of marriage.

At first, she had wondered if something might be wrong with him. But later, she caught him more than once in his study, clutching a photo album and pleasuring himself. The low, guttural mo-ans he had made—each one had felt like a slap to her face.

Once, when he realized she'd seen him, he pulled her into his arms and murmured into her neck, "Syd, I'm sorry. I just… I was afraid of hurting you. I couldn't bring myself to do it. So I used your photo instead."

What a joke. And the saddest part? She had believed him and had actually blushed.

But the night she flew back to Jouleston, groggy from fever meds, she used what little strength she had to pry open the locked cabinet in his study. Inside, she found the album. Every page was filled with Penelope—radiant, vibrant, full of life. Every smile and glance was captured like a treasure.

Sydney had never felt more like the punchline of a bad joke.

In a daze, memories came drifting back. She remembered tagging along behind Caleb like a little shadow. But in truth, she hadn't been following him. She'd been following her older brother, who was always by his side. She had seen Caleb so often that eventually, she started to think that marrying him wouldn't be so bad.

Caleb had been patient, gentle, always bringing her little gifts when he visited her brother. Among all his friends, he had seemed the most refined and courteous. And yet this supposed gentleman would rather touch himself to his sister-in-law than lay a hand on his own wife.

…

Sydney hadn't expected Tiffany to show up so fast. She had just finished getting ready and hadn't even made it downstairs when the doorbell rang.

Tiffany arrived with the kind of energy that said, "If the courthouse was open, I would've dragged you both there on the spot."

Sydney felt a little steadier with the agreement in hand. But then a sharp crack echoed through the house.

Before she could react, Nancy rushed down the stairs, face tight with worry. "Ms. Wilson—"

"What is it?"

"Timmy broke the family photo in your bedroom."

Sydney assumed it was just the frame. But then Nancy handed her the pieces, and her face went pale. Her parents had died in an accident when she was five. That photo had been all she had left of them. Her only keepsake.

She clutched the shattered remains and stormed upstairs. At the top of the stairs, Penelope stepped out of her room with her son in her arms.

Sydney's voice turned icy. "Penelope, that was my room."

"Uncle Caleb said this is my home now," Timothy piped up, puffed with bravado. "Uncle Caleb also said he's going to take care of me and Mommy like a real dad!"

Sydney glanced at Penelope, who showed no sign of correcting or scolding her son. She gave a cold laugh, crouched a little, and looked Timothy in the eye. "Do you know what Santa Claus does to children like you on Christmas?"

The boy lifted his chin proudly. "He gives me lots of candy!"

"Wrong." She shook her head, smiling sweetly. "He cuts off the hands of children who break things, bakes them in the oven, and feeds them to monsters."

"WAAAHHH!" Timothy, still just a child, burst into tears and clung to Penelope like his life depended on it.

Penelope glared at her. "He's just a kid. Did you really have to scare him like that?"

"You can't even teach your own child how to behave. What else are you good for besides extreme sports?" Sydney didn't wait for a reply. She turned and walked away.

…

That night, a black car rolled into the driveway.

Sydney stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching as Caleb got out. Timothy ran to him immediately, dragging Penelope behind him. The three of them looked like a perfect little family.

Eventually, someone knocked at the door.

Caleb stepped inside. His crisp white shirt and purposeful stride clashed with the tension in his voice. "You scared Timmy?"

"I did," Sydney said, gesturing toward her nightstand. "He destroyed my family photo."

Caleb froze. For the first time, he realized he didn't know the whole story.

He reached out to ruffle her hair, but she stepped back. Thinking she was still angry, he softened his tone. "That's my fault. Let me apologize on his behalf. Do you want anything? I'll make it up to you."

Sydney smiled faintly. "Anything at all?"

Caleb nodded. "Of course."

"I only want two things." She handed him the documents she had prepared.

Caleb glanced at the property transfer contract and signed without hesitation. The second document he flipped straight to the last page and signed just as quickly. When it came to money, he was always generous.

Afterward, he let out a slow breath and gently pulled her into his arms. "Syd, how did your brother raise you to be so obedient and sensible?"

Sydney felt a wave of nausea. Just as she was about to shove him away, there was a knock on the half-open door.

Caleb instinctively stepped back the moment he saw who it was.

Sydney froze. And in that instant, everything clicked. He had gone three years without touching her just to stay loyal to the woman he truly loved. Now that they were under the same roof, he had to perform the part.

Penelope looked mildly annoyed. "Cal, Timmy won't sleep unless you're with him."

"I'm coming." Caleb turned to Sydney. "You're not mad, are you?"

"Not at all," she said flatly.

After he left, Sydney pulled out the second document. It was the divorce agreement.

Yes, she was obedient. So obedient, she'd prepared the divorce papers herself and handed them right to his face.

Chapter 3

The next morning, Sydney woke naturally, her internal clock working as usual. She pulled open the curtains and found the world outside buried in white.

The forecast hadn't said a word about snow. Yet this wasn't some light dusting—it was a full-on storm. Even through the glass, she could feel the cold.

She changed into a knit dress and had just started washing up when loud noises echoed through the hallway. They were jarring. If she didn't know better, she might've thought a demolition crew had shown up.

"Nancy, what's going on—" Sydney twisted her hair into a loose knot and opened the door, stopping short mid-sentence.

It wasn't a crew. It looked like an invading army had torn through the place. The pristine house was in ruins. Throw pillows that belonged on the downstairs sofa sat by her door, stained with dark brown gunk. A porcelain vase had rolled across the floor and shattered.

The one-million-money oil painting in the hallway was ruined.

It was chaos.

Nancy trailed after Timothy, practically pleading, "Timmy, please, don't touch that. That's Ms. Wilson's favorite tea set."

She was too late. He smashed the tea set into pieces.

Timothy stuck out his tongue and huffed like a tiny tyrant. "Blehhh! I wanna play with it! Uncle Caleb said this is my home now. You're just a servant. Who are you to boss me around?"

Then he looked up and locked eyes with Sydney, who stood watching him in silence. His shoulders sank. That scary woman had frightened him so badly the day before that he'd had nightmares of Santa Claus and monsters chasing him.

He hated her and had to get rid of her. His mother once said that once this woman was gone, Caleb would belong only to them.

Sydney's expression stayed calm. "Go ahead. Play. Take your time."

Timothy blinked. "Really?"

He'd just broken her favorite things, and she wasn't angry?

Sydney leaned against the railing with a faint smile and glanced toward the first floor, where Penelope stood pretending not to hear a thing. "Sure. Just don't touch the ink painting in the guest lounge. That's my favorite."

She didn't know whether Penelope had coached him or if Timothy had come up with this mess on his own. Either way, it didn't matter. She wasn't exactly a saint herself. Someone had once taught her that if you're bullied, you hit back ten times harder.

Timothy's eyes lit up.

"Okay!" he shouted and ran off.

Nancy sighed. "Ms. Wilson, you and Mr. Hampton spoil that child too much."

"It's fine," Sydney said calmly. "Don't stop him. He's the Hampton family's only grandson. As long as he's happy, that's all that matters. And Penelope hasn't said a word, has she? We should respect her parenting. If anything goes wrong, neither of us can afford to take the blame."

Nancy nodded reluctantly. "You're too kind for your own good. That's why people think they can walk all over you."

Sydney kept smiling faintly but didn't comment on that. Instead, she asked, "Do we have any spare gift boxes?"

"What kind?"

"Doesn't matter. Just needs to fit something A4-sized."

"There should be some in the storage room," Nancy said. "I'll go check."

Once she had the box, Sydney returned to her room and locked the door. She placed the signed divorce agreement inside and tied the lid with a ribbon, adding a bow for flair.

A loud crash came from downstairs.

Sydney didn't flinch.

She tightened the bow and nodded slightly. 'Beautiful. Perfectly done.'

Moments later, someone pounded on the door.

Nancy's frantic voice called out, "Ms. Wilson, come down quickly! Timmy just ruined Mr. Benjamin's final painting!"

Sydney shot up, her expression dark. "The one in the guest lounge?"

Nancy nodded. "Yes."

She bolted for the stairs and twisted her ankle on the way down.

Timothy saw her and raised his chin smugly. His whole face said, "What are you gonna do about it?"

Sydney turned to Nancy. "Did you call the Hampton residence?"

"Not yet."

"Call them."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Timothy charged at her. "No! Bad lady, don't tattle!"

Sydney didn't see it coming. He hit her with more force than she expected, knocking her straight to the floor. Pain shot through her tailbone.

Penelope rushed over. "Syd, are you okay?"

Sighing, she said in a chiding tone, "Timothy's spoiled, I know. He doesn't know how to be gentle. But he's just a kid. Please don't be mad at him."

Sydney gripped her side and stared at the ink painting—now torn through the center. She let out a low, cold peal of laughter. "So letting a child destroy someone else's property is part of your parenting philosophy too?"

Tears welled in Penelope's eyes. "I just looked away for one moment! Do you really have to blame me for everything?"

"One moment?" Sydney swept her gaze across the destruction. "Look at all this damage, and it's not even noon. So tell me, exactly when were you watching him?"

Penelope's tone changed the second they were alone. "Sydney! Why do you have to be so unforgiving? You're seriously going to call the old house over a fool painting? You think Grandma's going to take your side over mine?"

"Correction," Sydney said coolly. "That 'fool painting' was Grandpa’s final work before he died."

As the words settled in the air, a black sedan pulled into the courtyard.

The Hampton family had arrived—fast.

Chapter 4

Penelope's face stiffened instantly. She saw the familiar car pull up, and panic surged in her chest. Her delicate eyes flared as she glared at Sydney. "You did this on purpose, didn't you? You planned it!"

Sydney's eyes shimmered with false hurt. "Penelope, what are you talking about? I was upstairs just now, preparing a gift for Cal. Why blame me?"

At that moment, the Hampton family's butler, George Baker, entered and found chaos. His gaze swept the wrecked villa before settling on Penelope. "Ms. Penelope, Madam Hampton asked me to deliver a message. Since your parenting has clearly failed, she will have to discipline you."

Penelope's lips parted. "What?"

George gestured politely. "Please kneel in the courtyard. Three hours."

"George—" Sydney began, but he stopped her with a gentle smile.

"Ms. Sydney, no need to plead on her behalf," he said. "You've endured enough with the funeral. Please take care of your health."

Sydney had wanted to ask if Dorothy had recovered enough to discuss the divorce at a better time. In the Hampton household, no matter how much power Caleb held at the company, Dorothy always controlled family matters.

Despite her reluctance, Penelope knelt in the freezing snow.

'Serves her right,' Sydney thought, not sparing her a second glance as she headed upstairs.

Nancy hesitated. "Ms. Wilson, what about the painting?"

"No worries. Someone will pick it up soon. It will be returned after restoration."

Sydney kept it simple. Of course, she wouldn't reveal that the painting hanging in the house was a fake. The real one was already at a friend's gallery, untouched and perfectly preserved.

Benjamin Hampton's greatest wish had been for his art to be seen by many. Hiding it at home would have been a waste.

"Evil woman!" Timothy screamed just as Sydney reached the stairs. "I called Uncle Caleb! When he gets home, you're dead!"

"Then I'll be waiting."

"He's going to divorce you! Then you'll be a used-up old hag nobody wants!" Timothy shrieked.

Sydney chuckled. "He won't listen to you."

Caleb and Penelope still needed her as a sm-okescreen.

The moment they divorced, a man living under the same roof as his late brother's wife? Penelope's reputation would be ruined beyond repair. Caleb would never allow that.

...

Caleb returned quickly. Penelope had knelt less than twenty minutes before he appeared.

He stepped out of the car in a long black cashmere coat, tall and composed, radiating quiet authority. He rushed to Penelope, scooped her into his arms, and hurried her inside. He gently set her on the sofa and began applying medicine to her red, frozen knees. His concern was barely concealed in his eyes.

"You're an idiot. If they tell you to kneel, you actually kneel?" he said.

"Grandma gave the order. What choice did I have?" Penelope clutched his sleeve, eyes red and voice trembling. "Cal, can you please divorce her? She's terrifying."

Caleb frowned. "You mean Sydney?"

"Yes." Penelope bit her lip. "You know why Timmy destroyed Grandpa's painting? She egged him on."

"Mommy's right!" Timothy burst out, still tearful. "Uncle Caleb, Aunt Sydney said the monster that eats arms lives inside that painting!"

"No way," Caleb interrupted, ruffling Timmy's hair gently. "Timmy, maybe you misheard. Aunt Sydney has the kindest heart in the family. She told you she wasn't mad anymore, remember? She wouldn't scare you again. Besides… Grandpa adored her. She'd never mess with his painting."

That last remark was aimed squarely at Penelope.

She stared at him, stunned.

"You're saying Timmy and I made it up to frame her?" Her voice cracked. "Caleb! You've changed!"

The accusation sparked something in him, but when he met her disappointed gaze, he swallowed his anger. "Penny, I haven't changed. I've always been this way."

Penelope held his gaze. "Then tell me, can you swear on it? Swear you've never had the slightest feeling for Sydney? That you've never touched her, not even once?"

Caleb had always believed in honesty with her. But now, faced with the question, the words caught in his throat. "I haven't touched her."

He owed Sydney an apology.

"I haven't touched her." Sydney heard those words just as she came downstairs, one hand supporting her lower back, the other holding the gift box. He spoke without hesitation or a hint of guilt.

She smiled bitterly and stepped forward. "Cal, Madam Sterling asked if you're free for the Sterling family banquet tomorrow night."

Eloise Doakes, also known as Madam Sterling, had been an old friend of Sydney's parents. After their accident, she had taken Sydney in. To outsiders, Sydney was already half a Sterling. Even after marrying into the Hampton family, the business ties between the two families remained strong.

Hearing her, Caleb, perhaps still feeling guilty, agreed immediately. "Sure. I'll come pick you up tomorrow night. We'll go together."

"Okay." Sydney glanced at the box in her hands, then at the mother and son beside him. She said nothing more and turned to leave.

Tiffany had won a major case today and wanted to take Sydney shopping. But when she learned Sydney had injured her foot, they changed plans to dinner instead.

"Syd," Caleb called out suddenly, almost reflexively. "What's in the box?"

Sydney turned back, wiggling the gift in her hand. "A present."

"A present? Whose birthday?"

"It was for our third wedding anniversary. I was going to give it to you."

"Syd, I'm sorry…"

She met his gaze with her usual clear, serene look and handed him the box. "It's fine. You've been busy. Totally understandable to forget."

She smiled sweetly. "Anyway, your birthday's in a couple of weeks. You can consider this an early gift. Happy birthday in advance, Cal."

'And happy divorce to me,' she added silently.

Chapter 5

When Caleb took the gift box from her, he felt something brush his chest. It was quick and light but sharp enough to catch his breath. It did not exactly hurt, yet it made breathing slightly more difficult.

The bow on the box had been tied with painstaking care. It showed how much effort she had invested and how long she had planned this gift. Meanwhile, he was a complete rubbish, harboring selfish, shameful thoughts.

Before Caleb could speak, Sydney had already moved to the entryway. She slipped on a beige wool coat and wrapped a scarf around her neck, her delicate oval face mostly hidden. Only her dark, clear eyes remained visible.

Then she left, but her stride seemed off.

Caleb was about to ask what was wrong when Penelope gasped beside him. "Ahh! That hurts…"

He immediately focused on her and helped her sit down. "Are your knees still that bad? Let me take you to the hospital."

"I don't want to go." She bit her lip and glanced at the box in his hands, muttering, "And you say you're not falling for her? You treat her gift like some priceless treasure."

Caleb frowned. "Penny, I already owe her so much."

Tears slipped down her cheeks. "And what about me, Cal? What am I supposed to be to you? Are you just going to let her keep bullying me and Timmy?"

"I already said Syd's not like that," he said.

"Enough!" Penelope's voice cracked. "Can't you hear yourself? Every word you say defends her!"

She stood, crying in dramatic sobs, and dragged Timothy upstairs.

Caleb sat stunned for a moment before slowly exhaling. He wasn't even sure what he was thinking anymore. He simply could not stand anyone speaking ill of Sydney.

…

Snow fell steadily for two days.

Sydney spent the morning seeing patients at the clinic. In the afternoon, she covered a session with overseas doctors who had come to learn from her senior, who was unexpectedly absent.

By 5:00 p.m., she was back home, changing and applying light makeup. She needed little. Her bright eyes and perfect teeth made her stand out even with minimal effort.

As she came downstairs, she sensed something was off. Since arriving, the house had been eerily quiet. That mother-son duo was unusually well-behaved.

Just as she finished pulling on her tall boots, Penelope asked her with a venomous smile, "Sydney, who do you think he'll choose? Me or you?"

"Penelope, what are you talking about? I don't quite follow." Sydney paused, then smiled. "Oh? So you're not trying to spin some scandalous 'widowed sister-in-law seduces little brother-in-law' drama in the Hampton family?"

Penelope's fury boiled over. "Sydney!"

Sydney calmly draped her cashmere cape over her shoulders and smiled faintly. "No time to argue. Cal's already waiting for me."

Penelope followed her gaze to the black car parked in the driveway through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sight nearly made her spit blood.

When she agreed to let Caleb marry this "sweet and pliable" girl, she had assumed that Sydney would be easy to control. Who would have guessed she was a rabbit with fangs?

Sydney slid into the car and turned to Caleb. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting."

"No, I just got here." He reached over to squeeze her hand, then noticed the pale, flawless skin visible beneath her skirt. Her legs were exposed to the cold, and he frowned. "Why are you dressed so lightly?"

She smiled. "The car and the house are both heated."

She always urged patients to dress warmly, but when it came to herself, she did not care.

Caleb sighed. "If you catch a cold or get a fever, don't expect me to take care of you."

"I'll take medicine," she said.

Colds were easy. One dose of herbs and she would mostly be fine. Over the past three years, she had relied on herself. She had long stopped expecting him to care for her—or anyone else.

Caleb did not know why her indifference unsettled him so much. "You talk like I'm some heartless husband who doesn't care about you."

She paused. "You didn't open the gift I gave you yesterday?"

"Not yet." Caleb looked out the window. "It's a birthday gift, right? I figured I'd wait."

"Sure."

'That works. More time for me to get ready,' she thought.

They had little to say, so the ride passed in silence.

Caleb glanced at her. She sat quietly, staring out at the stream of traffic. Her entire demeanor was peaceful, gentle, innocent, composed. He could not understand why Penelope hated her so much.

He was about to speak when his phone rang.

"Mr. Hampton, Ms. Monroe is at a blind date." The other party's voice was calm, not loud, but clear enough for Sydney to hear.

The air in the car tightened instantly. Caleb was fuming but kept it controlled. He rarely lost his temper.

"Send me the location." His tone turned icy.

After hanging up, he turned to Sydney with a composed expression but an unmistakably firm voice. "Syd, something urgent came up. I can't go to the family banquet with you."

'Something urgent?' Sydney did not even want to ask.

Why bother? Digging would only humiliate her more.

"I understand." She lowered her gaze slightly. "Jack, could you pull over up ahead?"

The car slowed to a stop. Caleb did not move, seeming to appreciate the life he had now.

Sydney looked at him. "Cal, go on. We can't park here too long."

He looked stunned for a second, but she remained calm and graceful. He could find no excuse to stay. "Alright."

He got out silently.

…

The Sterling family's monthly banquet was unlike other social events. Only five people attended, including Caleb.

The atmosphere was quiet. Unnervingly so, as if it were more funeral than celebration.

When Sydney arrived, the butler, Jason Reyes, led her straight to the dining hall.

"Ms. Wilson, Madam Sterling has been waiting all day. She's been asking about you since this morning," Jason said.

"Okay." Sydney nodded gently but nervously clenched her fingers at her sides.

Inside the dining hall, Eloise sat at the head of the table. To her left, her eldest and second daughters sat in order.

Sydney stepped in and greeted them politely, "Grandma. Aunt Fiona. Aunt Miranda."

She followed the Sterling family's generational terms. The two aunts responded with lukewarm nods but glanced past her.

When Eloise noticed Sydney was alone, her brows furrowed deeply. "Where is Caleb?"

"Something urgent came up, and he had to attend to it," Sydney said.

"Out! Go kneel!" Suddenly, a harsh yell echoed, and a teacup flew at her.

Chapter 6

By the time Sydney left the Sterling estate, her limp had worsened. For three years, every time Caleb failed to show up for her, she ended up punished like this. She no longer felt surprised.

What Caleb did not realize was that each time he "proved his devotion" to the woman he loved, he pushed Sydney one step closer to ruin. The Sterling family had no use for a weak woman who could not keep her husband's heart.

Jason sighed. "You could have lied, you know? Made up something harsher. Madam Sterling wouldn't have beaten you this badly."

"Jason, Grandma raised me. I could lie to anyone but never to her," Sydney said. Her clean, pale face showed no trace of resentment.

Jason sighed again, but this time his eyes showed genuine warmth as he looked at her bruised, red palms. "Don't wait too long. Get to a hospital quickly."

"Okay." She nodded without another word.

Jack had already left.

Every step sent sharp waves of pain through Sydney's body.

Since she was little, she suspected Eloise was the reincarnation of a cruel villain from some historical drama.

Dorothy Vettera, the matriarch of the Hampton family, had merely ordered Penelope to kneel in the courtyard. Eloise, the Sterling family's matriarch, had made the maids take Sydney to kneel on a path filled with jagged stones.

At first, the snow made it bearable. Yes, it was cold, but at least it did not hurt. Once the snow melted, only sharp rocks remained. By the time her whole body froze, the maids appeared with canes to whip her palms.

That part truly hurt.

The Sterling estate sat high in the scenic, serene mountains. Sydney had struggled to bribe a ride-share driver to come. Because it was snowing late at night, the driver refused to go beyond the hill's base.

Each step downhill brought pure agony. Despite the winter chill, her back drenched in sweat from pain.

Far ahead, a long black car crawled along the icy road.

The driver squinted. "Sir, that looks like Ms. Wilson."

In the backseat, a man lounged with legs crossed. His face lay mostly in shadow, sharp and cold, radiating power. He did not even look up as he hummed. His expression was unreadable.

Elliot Tierney, the assistant in front, could not hold back. "Sir, shouldn't we help her?"

"You want to?" His low, magnetic voice was quiet but laced with frost.

Elliot fell silent.

After a long pause, the man finally looked out through the windshield, narrowing his eyes at the frail figure staggering in the snow. "Find out what Caleb was doing tonight."

"We already checked. Most likely enjoying a romantic night with Penelope." Elliot added quickly, "Ms. Wilson has probably been kneeling in the snow for hours. She's reaching her limit."

Just as he finished, the figure ahead collapsed.

"I told you that—"

The car door slammed open. The man's face stayed stone-cold as he swept the unconscious woman into his arms, wrapping her in his cashmere coat.

Elliot scrambled to open the rear door. "Sir, hospital or…"

"Back to the estate."

"Yes, sir."

"I want a doctor waiting," the man instructed.

"Already arranged."

Sensing the mood, the driver quietly turned up the heat. Inside the car, warm light filled the space. The man's gaze swept over her bruised knees. His dark eyes flashed cold, but his voice remained even. "They didn't hold back."

Elliot muttered, "Madam Sterling's punishments are always brutal."

"Is Victor Sterling returning soon?" the man asked.

"Yes," Elliot replied.

"Make arrangements," he ordered.

"To what extent?"

The man glanced over lazily, a violent glint flickering behind his calm eyes. "What do you think?"

…

Sydney woke weak all over but surprisingly without pain. Her palms and knees, which should have throbbed, looked frightening but hurt little. Even her tailbone, sore for days, felt better.

Still, something was wrong. She was not supposed to be here.

Frowning, she reached for the hotel phone, only to pause at a faint whiff of agarwood. The scent snapped her out of her daze. She scoffed silently, grabbed a familiar tube of custom-made ointment from the nightstand, and checked out without a word.

…

Back home, the atmosphere felt unusually pleasant, as if all the recent awkwardness was her fault for existing.

"Syd, you're back," Penelope greeted with a cheery smile.

Clearly, Caleb had made it up to her last night.

Sydney ignored her.

Penelope was not done. She walked over, flipped her hair behind her ear, and flashed a dazzling pair of rare pink diamond earrings.

Sydney had loved that set for years. It had resurfaced at auction recently, and Caleb had promised to buy it for her. He said soft pink tones suited her best and that the earrings would look stunning.

No doubt he said the same to Penelope.

Catching the flicker of emotion on Sydney's face, Penelope tilted her chin smugly. "Grandma said you have a good eye for jewelry. Take a look. These cost over a million dollars. Cal bought them for me. Think they're worth it?"

"They're decent," Sydney said with a faint smile, pushing down bitterness. "Oh, right. Cal and I are still legally married. So technically, half of that million is our joint marital property. The exact figure was 1.4 million."

She pulled out her phone. "Penelope, please wire 700,000 dollars to this account by midnight. Otherwise, I'll have to ask Grandma for it."

Penelope's phone buzzed. A message appeared with a bank account number.

Her face darkened. 'This bitch. Always threatening me with that old crone. 700,000 dollars? The Hampton family hasn't even formally split assets yet.'

After Lucas died, Penelope had inherited only 500,000 dollars.

Sydney did not care whether Penelope had the money. After a shower, she started decluttering. She refused to drag things out. She even packed her wedding dress and told Nancy to throw it away.

Just as she lugged the bundle downstairs, Caleb walked in. His eyes fell on the clumsily wrapped dress, and unease settled in his gut. "Why are you taking out the wedding dress?"

Sydney met his gaze, calm and steady. "I'm throwing it out."

'Useless things deserve to be discarded,' she thought.

Chapter 7

Upon hearing her calm, matter-of-fact tone, something sharp jabbed Caleb's chest. He frowned. "Why are you suddenly throwing it away? Didn't you treasure that wedding dress?"

Sydney did not deny it. For three years, she had kept a spot in the closet just for that dress. Each year, she had it professionally cleaned and preserved. She had treasured it because she believed people married only once in a lifetime, and a wedding dress was something to keep.

But now, they were divorcing. Knowing Caleb would likely bring his new love into this house soon after, that dress, like her, had become redundant.

Sydney gave a faint smile. "It's ruined. I noticed the other day it has a huge tear."

"Even so, you can't just toss it like that." Caleb studied her forced smile, assuming she could not bear to part with it. "Tell you what—I'll have someone from the boutique take a look. Maybe it can be repaired."

"Don't bother." Sydney shook her head and met his eyes. "Some things, once broken, can't be fixed."

She was not just talking about the dress. She meant their marriage. Before he could say more, she turned and walked back inside.

Watching her limp slightly, Caleb suddenly remembered. He hurried to catch up. "Wait, are you still hurt? It's been days. Why are you still limping?"

'A little late, aren't we?' she thought mockingly.

Sydney needed his guilt now. She lowered her eyes and answered plainly, "It was almost better, but last night I had to kneel outside the Sterling estate for four hours."

"What did you say?" Caleb stared at her and noticed her swollen, reddened palms. His pupils tightened. "Your hands too?"

Sydney blinked. "Got beaten."

Her tone was casual, without a hint of complaint.

Caleb frowned. "Why did you kneel for so long? And why were you beaten?"

He did not dare imagine the details. 'Isn't Sydney practically family to the Sterlings? How did one visit leave her like this?'

Sydney looked up, and for a moment, a memory of her younger self, eager to marry him, flashed through her mind. She had truly dreamed of growing old with Caleb. She stayed silent for a long moment, then smiled faintly. "Because you didn't come with me."

Frustration swelled in his chest. His throat tightened. "You're still smiling. Doesn't it hurt?"

"It does." Sydney nodded. "But I'm used to it."

"Used to it?"

She pressed her palm gently and spoke as if it was someone else's story. "Anytime you don't come with me, something like this happens."

This was not even the worst. Since childhood, whenever she stepped out of line, Eloise would punish her. That pebble-lined path in the Sterlings' courtyard was made just for her.

Before she turned seven, Sydney already knew how to kneel perfectly—knees aligned, legs straight, toes tucked—to satisfy Eloise.

Caleb crouched and lifted the hem of her dress. What he saw twisted his gut.

Her knees were badly swollen, dark bruises blooming beneath. Her calves were mottled purple and blue, as if someone had painted her skin with cruelty. Against her fair complexion, the bruises looked even more painful.

Compared to this, Penelope's lightly reddened knees were not even close.

Caleb's anger surged. Without a word, he lifted Sydney into his arms and settled her on the sofa. His brow furrowed deeply. "Why didn't you call me?"

The Sterling and Hampton families once stood as equals. Only recently, after Julian Sterling's ruthless reforms, had the gap grown.

Still, Caleb's wife should not be treated like garbage.

Sydney's eyes were clear. Her tone was gentle as she teased, "You said you had an emergency when you left. I figured it was important. Didn't want to bother you."

Caleb was at a loss for words.

For a moment, he thought, 'If I'd known chasing after Penelope would cost this much, would I have gone?'

That thought lingered as he met Sydney's obedient, docile face. His chest tightened. He fetched the first-aid kit and began gently applying ointment. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Sydney stayed silent. She wanted to be a good wife and daughter-in-law. She truly believed Caleb would be a good partner.

To outsiders, the Sterlings were her family. What kind of woman badmouthed her family to her husband?

Sydney was no fool, and Caleb had never loved her enough to make her feel safe doing that. She had always known he barely loved her. Only recently did she realize he had never loved her at all.

It was good she had never depended on anyone's love to survive.

Her fingers pressed lightly into her palm. Her voice softened. "I didn't want to put you in a tough spot between me and the Sterlings. After all, Hampton Corp. still does business with them."

She could not tell the truth. All she could do was lie with a perfectly sincere face.

Caleb swallowed bitter guilt. Her consideration should never have been used against her.

He took a breath, pushed down the bitterness, and gently ruffled her hair. "I'm sorry. I should have done better. And I forgot our anniversary too. Is there anything you want? I'll get it for you."

"Hmm…" Sydney tilted her head and said in a light, steady voice, "Then I want you to like the birthday gift I gave you."

"That's it?"

She nodded. "Yeap."

When she turned 20, Sydney's birthday wish was to marry Caleb. At 24, it was to leave him, cleanly and completely.

For the briefest moment, as she met his sincere gaze, guilt flickered inside her. Then his phone rang. It was not the usual tone but a custom ringtone.

Sydney saw the caller ID: Penelope.

Caleb picked up, said a few words, and shot to his feet, his expression hardening. "How bad is it? Why didn't you have the driver take you? How'd you twist your ankle just walking? Send me your location. I'm coming now."

He hung up, ready to leave despite not finishing Sydney's treatment. The cotton swab in his hand made him hesitate.

Sydney reached out, took the swab, and offered him an out with practiced gentleness. "I'll finish it myself. You go ahead."

They said that the loudest child got the candy. In Sydney's world, crying only brought punishment. Still, she believed she would someday buy all the candy she wanted.

"Okay." Caleb looked visibly relieved. He added, almost defensively, "Penny got hurt. She's out with the kid alone. I just want to check on her."

Then he turned and left quickly.

For some reason, Sydney called after him, "Penny… Cal, why have I rarely heard you call her Penelope?"

Chapter 8

Caleb's heart skipped a beat. He stopped in his tracks and met her clear, steady gaze.

"Sydney…" Her name slipped out before he could stop himself.

She smiled suddenly, her voice soft and light. "Relax. Why are you so tense? I know you and Penelope have known each other a long time. It's natural you're still used to calling her by her nickname."

…

As the black car disappeared down the driveway, Sydney slowly leaned back on the sofa. She hadn't expected herself to say that.

She'd always been good at playing the sweet, obedient wife. All she needed was Caleb's guilt and remorse to secure a clean divorce. So why had she thrown it off course with such a pointless question?

She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling. Her eyes burned. Before she could unravel the thought, her phone rang. It was Tiffany.

"Syd, wanna go out for drinks tonight?"

"Sure," she said quickly, then added, "But a bit later. I've got a wellness livestream. Should be done by ten."

The livestreams were part of the clinic's outreach. They weren't technically her job, but she had filled in once when a colleague was out, and the feedback had been excellent.

That same colleague had shown her how to use a beauty filter—so dramatic, her late mother might not have recognized her. She looked good on camera, and her soft voice had a calming effect. Since then, the clinic had started assigning her to the streams regularly.

"Cool. I'll swing by after work to pick you up. Should be perfect timing," Tiffany said.

"Okay."

They chatted a bit longer. Sydney felt noticeably better and went back to her room to review her notes for the night's segment.

One undeniable perk of being married to Caleb was freedom. He never meddled in her business. The Sterling family couldn't monitor her as closely either—not with the Hampton name behind her.

Quietly, she had continued building her medical career and held regular consultations at the clinic. After three years, her savings were stronger than she'd expected.

…

The stream wrapped up right on time, at 10:00 p.m.

Sydney came downstairs in high spirits just as Tiffany pulled up outside.

As she slid into the car, Tiffany raised a brow. "Someone's in a good mood. Divorce going well?"

"Pretty well." Sydney smiled. "Worth celebrating."

…

The bar was packed, but Tiffany had a reserved spot thanks to her connection with the owner.

By the time Tiffany returned from the restroom, Sydney had already started drinking.

Tiffany laughed. "Does Caleb know you drink?"

"Of course not." Sydney tilted her head slightly, a faint dimple appearing. "Just like I didn't know his heart belonged to Pen—"

"Kiss! Kiss!"

"Come on, make a move!"

"Cal, you're not going home tonight, are you?"

The noise from the dance floor drowned her out. She turned toward the commotion, and her smile froze.

Tiffany followed her gaze, her expression darkening. "Is that Caleb?"

In the middle of the crowd, under flashing lights, Caleb stood with his arms around a woman in a striking red dress. His sharp features were unmistakable. The always-composed Caleb had a rare softness in his eyes.

Tiffany stared. "Wait, his great love is Penelope Monroe?"

"Yeah, shocking, right?" Sydney drained her glass. Her voice had turned hoarse. "I didn't see it coming either."

Just then, Penelope rose on tiptoe and kissed him. Caleb reflexively pulled her closer. They looked like the perfect couple.

"Whoa!"

"She's good!"

"Cal's not going home tonight!"

The same crowd that used to call Sydney "Mrs. Hampton" now cheered them on.

Tiffany stood abruptly, but Sydney grabbed her wrist. "Don't."

"You think I'm fool?" Tiffany snapped a few photos, then pulled Sydney up. "I know you have your plan, but this place is gross. Let's go somewhere else."

…

Sydney was a total lightweight. She didn't wake up until late the next afternoon. Her head pounded and her eyes were puffy. She blinked a few times before she believed the 700,000-money deposit in her bank account wasn't a hangover-induced hallucination.

She rubbed her eyes and checked the sender. It was Penelope.

Memories from the night before came rushing back. 'So she really did transfer it.'

Penelope must have been terrified of Dorothy. Still, given how things had played out last night, that money had probably come from Caleb.

Half the marital assets were hers. She felt fully entitled to it. Phone in hand, Sydney went downstairs and poured herself a glass of honey water.

Nancy spotted her pallor. "Ms. Wilson, want something to eat? I've got medicinal stew, or I can make you some chicken soup first."

Sydney had always customized recipes for Nancy based on her and Caleb's health needs, year-round.

"My stomach's queasy. Just the soup, please," she said, glancing around. "Did Caleb and Penelope come home last night?"

"Doesn't look like it," Nancy called from the kitchen.

She added a chocolate cookie to the tray, knowing Sydney's sweet tooth.

Just then, Timothy came barreling in. He planted his fists on his hips and scrunched his face at her. "Uncle Caleb and Mommy were together last night! You're not gonna be my aunt for long, bad woman! You don't deserve him!"

He jabbed a chubby finger at her, his eyes full of righteous fury.

Sydney nodded thoughtfully and swatted his hand away. "Do you know what that makes you, if your mom marries your Uncle Caleb?"

"What?"

"Dead weight." She bent down, smiling kindly, and patted his cheek. "Let me explain. That means burden. And once your mommy and your uncle have a new baby, no one will like you anymore. Happy now? Little burden."

"Waaah!" Timothy burst into tears. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he grabbed his tablet and tried to video call Penelope.

No answer.

He glared at Sydney, still sobbing, and called again.

"They don't like you anymore," Sydney said with a smile. "Told you."

She wasn't even lying. After last night, Penelope might already be carrying his new little half-sibling, half-cousin.

"Waaah! They won't…" Timothy kept crying, wiping his tears with his sleeve.

Sydney sipped her honey water and sat at the dining table. Her phone buzzed with a message from Tiffany. It was a forwarded news article.

Nancy came out with the soup, startled by the noise. "What's wrong with the little guy now? He's wailing like the sky's falling."

Sydney held up her screen. "Maybe he saw this and realized his mom's a homewrecker. Rough stuff for a kid."

Nancy read the headline and gasped.

[Hampton Corp.'s CEO, Caleb Hampton, Caught Kissing Mystery Woman in a Bar Late at Night!]