Lyla Greene's high-profile appearance had only lasted a day before she became the subject of numerous media reports, her mysterious background sparking speculation. Rumors circulated rapidly that she was the long-lost daughter of the Greene family, originating from the entertainment company where the gossip had spiraled out of control.
With a morning paper in one hand and sipping the coffee Mrs. Wallace had given her, Lyla walked toward the main hall. She pondered what incentives Cameron Carlson had offered to the entertainment company to portray him as a hero while casting her as a rescued Cinderella.
"All the papers have been singing your praises lately, Mr. Carlson!" Sitting in a wicker chair, Lyla tossed the newspaper onto the table, feigning indifference.
Cameron hesitated at her comment. "Why? Are you not pleased with that portrayal?"
"How could I be?" Lyla retorted with a hint of irony. "As an orphan, it’s my good fortune to have caught the attention of someone like you. But the media likely doesn't know that this Cinderella story has an expiration date—just two years." She gently placed her cup on the table and picked up the newspaper again, shaking her head.
"The newspaper states: 'Cameron Carlson, the secretive CEO, has a wife who bears a striking resemblance to the missing socialite Lyla Greene! Her real identity is that of an orphan, yet Mr. Carlson married her regardless of social status, showing his deep affection...'" Lyla read aloud mockingly, ignoring Cameron's darkening expression.
"Do you believe this?" Cameron abruptly snatched the newspaper from her and tossed it to the floor, staring intently at her.
"Believe what? That I'm an orphan without parents, or that you, Mr. Carlson, could truly love me?" Lyla stood up suddenly and laughed bitterly.
"Do you think I could be naive enough to love you?" For some reason, Cameron found himself wanting to understand her thoughts, hoping she might be as naive as some others.
"Love me? Mr. Carlson, you only love yourself. There’s no room for anyone else in your heart. Don’t fool yourself. You don't love me, just as I don't love you. This is all just a transaction!" Lyla felt a wave of injustice—not because she’d lost the status of a renowned socialite, but because she was pitied as an orphan. Most of all, she knew the man in front of her would never truly love her.
"Good, as long as you understand!" Cameron’s heart was unexpectedly tugged by her words, though he refused to acknowledge that the unease was because of her.
"Of course, Mr. Carlson. Rest assured, I won't cling to you. I’ll leave with my father as we agreed, never to show up before you again," Lyla replied, her tone casual as if discussing something that had nothing to do with her.
"Leave? Are you really indifferent to the vast Greene estate?" Cameron felt a sharp pang at the thought of her departure.
"I couldn't care less. In this world, the only thing I cherish is my father. I'll donate the Greene estate to charity, so don’t worry—I won’t hang on to you for money." Picking up the newspaper from the floor, Lyla turned to leave without a trace of hesitation.
Cameron watched her retreating figure, his fists clenched so tightly that the knuckles cracked. He would not let her slip away so easily.
"Come with me to the airport!" He stormed into her room, pulling her up from her seat.
Shortly after Lyla left, Cameron received a pivotal phone call—one that would change everything.
Lyla didn’t fully comprehend how she ended up in Cameron’s car. When she finally turned around to take in her surroundings, the road back was already out of sight.
She had no idea why Cameron was taking her to the airport, nor did she ask. Her sole concern was seeing Chaim Greene; everything else seemed insignificant.
The early morning at the airport was quiet, especially in the VIP section. It was clear Cameron was there to meet someone. Standing at the VIP entrance, Lyla noticed he was unusually tense and a bit excited—a side of him she rarely saw.
After twenty minutes, as Lyla’s feet began to fall asleep, the large door finally opened. Because it was the VIP area, only a few people emerged, all of whom appeared wealthy and distinguished.
Three more minutes passed without any new arrivals, prompting Lyla to finally question who Cameron was waiting for when a voice rang out, "Cameron!"
The voice, carrying a hint of age, came unexpectedly from a woman who seemed no older than her mid-thirties—a reminder that appearances can be deceiving.
"Aunt!" Cameron called out, surprising Lyla as he quickly embraced the woman.
Embracing Cameron, Nora James’s eyes fixated on Lyla, studying her carefully before a sharp, hostile look flashed through them, chilling Lyla to the bone.
"What are you standing there for? Go get the luggage. Here’s the claim ticket!" Cameron tossed the ticket Nora handed him at Lyla, who caught it as Cameron and Nora walked away.
Holding the luggage ticket, Lyla watched them leave, a growing unease settling in her stomach. She felt an inexplicable hostility from Nora, and Cameron's dissatisfaction with her seemed to amplify in Nora’s presence.
After retrieving Nora’s luggage with considerable effort, Lyla hurried to the airport exit, but she had underestimated Cameron’s patience. He had already left with Nora.
The fickle London weather had been clear in the early morning, but as soon as Lyla stepped outside, it began to pour. She had grown accustomed to the unpredictable weather, but the little one she carried in her arms had not.
Every time the sky turned gray, Keily would become listless, all his energy focused on battling the little angel dancing inside him, demanding all his concentration...
"Keily, sit here for a moment while I get the car," Lyla said gently, placing the well-wrapped child onto a bench. She hung a warming pack around his neck, instructing him to keep it pressed against his chest, before hurrying toward the car.
Lyla ran quickly, her heart aching for her son who felt unwell. Ideally, she should have kept him indoors, but Keily refused to miss his school’s opening ceremony, leaving Lyla with no choice.
"In such a rush, not even holding your umbrella properly? Are you not worried about catching a cold?"
A deeper shadow suddenly loomed overhead, and Lyla found herself face-to-face with Skyler Lopez's striking blue eyes. She instinctively moved aside, attempting to create distance.
"Why are you here? I told you there’s no need to trouble yourself." Lyla retrieved her car keys, quickly unlocking the car door to get inside. However, before she could get in, her arm was caught firmly, preventing any movement.
"No matter how busy I am, I must look after my dear maid! Especially since she’s now my golden goose." Skyler pulled Lyla to his side, kicking the car door closed with a flourish.
"Skyler, let go. I can manage on my own! Don’t make things difficult. There’s already enough gossip in the company. You’re only making it harder for me!" Lyla freed herself, rubbing her sore wrist, her voice low and exasperated.
Over the years, she and Skyler had maintained their distance to avoid rumors. She wanted nothing more than to live quietly with Keily, far from any entanglements, especially with men.
"Gossip? What are they saying? I’m curious to know how the company staff wastes their time gossiping about me!" Amused by her concern, Skyler didn’t press the issue. Standing with arms crossed, he wore a wry smile.
"Nothing serious. I’m just worried. I don't want Keily to be affected by it. Skyler, you're the boss, and it's inappropriate to be too close to a subordinate from the forensic department." Lyla hesitated to share the truth, knowing Skyler’s temper could lead him to fire the entire staff over hearsay. She wanted to avoid unnecessary drama. Her association with Skyler had already made her the center of attention, and she didn’t want to escalate the situation.
"Lyla Greene, you’re a tough one. What's wrong with a little familiarity? Can’t I, as Keily’s godfather, look after him? Never mind, I won’t argue. Stubborn woman!" Skyler had no choice but to concede, even after five years of finding ways to be closer to her.
Sometimes, Skyler felt foolish for persisting, but he remained undeterred.
"Please, Skyler, I’m serious. I can..." Lyla hurried after him as he carried Keily towards the car.
"Enough! Your car has no heating. Are you trying to freeze Keily? Stop arguing and get in my car. I can spare the time to take him to school!" Seating Keily gently in the backseat, Skyler glanced at Lyla before climbing in.
Lyla paused, then opened the car door and sat down. Truth be told, her car was too rundown, not suitable for Keily's health.
"Keily, isn’t your mom’s head a bit faulty, letting you ride in such a cold car?" Skyler teased, expertly steering the vehicle away from the apartment complex.
"Your head is faulty! You and your whole family!" Keily shot back, clearly displeased. Though too weak to tussle with Skyler's hair, his sharp little tongue wouldn’t let Skyler off easily.
"Okay, okay! Godfather’s head is faulty. Keily, don’t be upset. Tell your little angel not to dance around so much!" Skyler chuckled at Keily’s fierce retort, peering at him through the mirror. The boy was a striking image of another man—a startling resemblance, yet Keily possessed warmth absent in that man. Fate has a way of giving you imperfect gifts, yet ones you can never part with.
"Keily, you shouldn’t talk to adults like that. I’ve taught you to be polite and well-mannered. Have you forgotten?" Lyla chided gently, shaking her head at her son’s spirited defiance. His fierce independence made him vulnerable to conflicts he couldn’t win.
Keily’s fragile health didn’t accommodate such a temperament. Disputes with other children would only leave him at a disadvantage.
"But Godfather said bad things about you! I’m upset!" Keily pouted, clearly feeling wronged. He struggled to understand why Lyla always seemed to conform, as if accommodation was her only response.
"That’s no excuse. Besides, Godfather meant no harm. He acted in Keily’s best interest. It was shortsighted of me not to consider everything thoroughly. Apologize to Skyler," Lyla said firmly, her eyes drilling into her son, leaving him momentarily stunned.
"Lyla, do you really need to be so strict with Keily? I’m not upset, so why make a big deal out of it?" Skyler interjected, unable to bear the tension.
He couldn’t grasp Lyla's underlying concern. Alone at school, Keily couldn’t afford such defiant behavior.
"I was wrong. I'm sorry! Godfather Skyler, I shouldn’t have been disrespectful," Keily apologized, albeit reluctantly. Yet he couldn’t defy Lyla's wishes.
For a moment, both Skyler and Lyla fell silent, sensing the unease beneath Keily’s compliance.
Nora James’s words stopped Cameron Carlson in his tracks. During this time, she still dared to speak this way. If it weren’t for that diary, he would never have uncovered the truth behind everything...
Cameron had committed unforgivable acts against Lyla Greene, Chaim Greene, Rivka Hayes, and even his deceased sister—all orchestrated by Nora, while he blindly accepted it. Cameron had believed every word Nora said, holding Rivka Hayes responsible for his father’s suicide and his mother's demise. Driven by revenge, he heaped the blame onto Lyla.
Yet, when the truth was unmasked, a new reality emerged—one that revealed their wrongdoings against the Greene family and Rivka Hayes.
The diary, carefully preserved in a red box, had been discovered by pure chance after Lyla's departure. Cameron, frequenting the winery in a drunken haze, stumbled upon a room once often visited by another. The sight of Rivka Hayes’s portrait had stopped him in his tracks, the unmistakable eyes—so much like Lyla’s—haunted him. It reminded him of the first time he saw Lyla, eyes full of life, now dimmed because of him. The repeated trauma and shadows he cast over her...
Driven by hatred, Cameron had ripped the portrait down, smashing it in a fit of rage, only to discover a hidden compartment behind it. Inside lay the red box containing the diary—a box that spoke of its immense importance.
The diary held truths that unraveled everything he believed. It revealed the lengths to which Nora had gone, altering his perception of reality, challenging every assumption he had about the past. Now, faced with the contents of the diary, Cameron found himself paralyzed by the gravity of its revelations.
