I stood at the villa entrance, sighed softly, and pushed the door open by myself.
Madeline Rousseau’s shrill laughter rang from within.
"My precious golden grandson, eat another bite, grow up strong so you can inherit your daddy’s company."
But the instant her eyes fell on me, the smile faded, curling instead into disdain.
"Well, look who it is, the cause of all this mess. Holding up the divorce, how can a woman without kids still act so high and mighty?"
The little boy, Kieran, grew sulky the moment he spotted me. He flung his half-eaten apple, the sticky pulp splattering my skirt.
"Nice throw! Ten years of marriage and your stomach’s still flatter than a washboard. All you do is waste time on jewelry appraisals, broken rocks, what good are they?"
The rain outside poured harder. Staring at the scene before me, my mind drifted back to the day of my third failed IVF attempt. That day too had been stormy, and Madeline had screamed at me over the phone like a madwoman. “You really are the curse of our family. Can’t give birth, why don’t you die?”
Back then, I endured the physical torment, sobbing out apologies for the sake of love and marriage. Later, I hid in the hospital, weeping alone through the night. But what had all my humility and concessions brought me?
They only gave the entire family the courage to push me further and further. Now, I had truly had enough.
“Madeline.” I bent down to pick up the apple Kieran had thrown at me, my tone light, no longer calling her “Mom.”
“You may not know this, but my father bought this villa before my marriage. It is my personal property.”
“Now, take your precious grandson and get out of my house!”
Madeline’s cursing stopped cold. Her eyes widened in disbelief.
“You said what? You want me to leave? This is my home, my son’s home.”
“Someone has trespassed into my villa. Send security immediately.” Without hesitation, I called for security.
Madeline’s face froze. She hadn’t expected I would truly dare summon people to throw her out. In the next instant, she snatched a teacup from the coffee table and hurled it at me.
I dodged immediately, letting the cup shatter into glittering shards across the floor.
“Alina Windsor! Are you insane?!”
Leandro’s voice thundered from the doorway. I lifted my gaze to see him rushing in, drenched, with a frantic Azalea trailing behind.
He strode forward, shielding his mother, and roared at me, “Alina, isn’t it just a divorce? But she’s my mom! Haven’t you caused enough trouble?”
Trouble?
I stared at him, finding it laughably absurd.
He was the one who brought a mistress and a child into my home. His mother was the one smashing things and spitting curses inside my house. And yet, in the end, I was the one accused of causing trouble?
Who exactly had I spent ten years of my life with?
Just then, Azalea inched closer, her face pale, her tone deliberately fragile as she persuaded me.
“Alina, Mom is old, please don’t be like this. Kieran is still young, don’t blame the child.”
I let out a cold laugh. Not even married yet and already calling her Mom? Truly without shame.
Security soon arrived, their stance resolute as they carried Madeline away.
The air resounded with Madeline’s shrieks, the child’s sobs, and Azalea’s pitiful pleas.
Leandro’s teeth clenched as his furious eyes locked on me. “Alina, you are ruthless enough!”
A soft smile touched my lips. “Not as ruthless as you.”
The front door crashed shut, sealing away every trace of noise from beyond.
Surveying the wreckage before me, I let my body slide down to the floor. I held myself tightly, and at last, the sobs I could no longer control tore through me.
Ten years, was this all I had gained in the end?
