Dorothy's face turned pale in an instant.
"No... you're lying to me!"
"Raymond would never treat me like that. He loves me—he really loves me..."
The little girl looked like she was about to shatter into pieces.
However, I felt a surge of satisfaction and deliberately poured oil on the fire.
Pulling out a recorder, I pressed play.
Raymond's deep, magnetic voice flowed from the device. "Maddy, don't worry. As soon as the child is born safely, I'll send Dorothy away. She'll never appear in front of us again."
Dorothy's entire world collapsed.
Her earlier arrogance, her smug confidence—gone without a trace.
"I'm going to ask Raymond myself! I need to hear it from him—why would he lie to me?"
She ran off in tears.
The butler approached cautiously, concern written all over his face.
"Madam, aren't you afraid that by deceiving Miss Vargas like this, Sir Raymond will cause trouble for you when he finds out?"
I laughed softly, catching my own reflection in the mirror.
A face so calm, yet shadowed with a quiet, deathlike resolve. "If I were still afraid of him... Then I wouldn't be Madeline."
In this lifetime, I had only been struck twice.
The first time—Raymond beat me for wearing a red dress, sending me to the hospital with thirteen stitches.
The second—when I miscarried.
It happened because I was foolish enough to believe in love.
But I swore long ago—there would never be a third time.
Sure enough, that very day, Dorothy ran out of the house crying, and soon after, she began bleeding heavily.
The doctor later said her emotions had been too agitated, triggering complications. The child could not be saved.
But only I knew the real reason.
At that moment, Raymond was in the middle of a board meeting.
As soon as he heard the news, he abandoned everything and rushed straight to the hospital.
And me? I remained in the villa, watching the surveillance footage quietly, smiling to myself.
Then I dialed a familiar number.
"The time has come. Pick me up."
This time, it was my turn to give Raymond a "surprise."
The moment Raymond heard of Dorothy's miscarriage, he lost control.
He couldn't understand—under the nanny's careful watch, how could this have happened?
While he was tearing through the hospital in a frenzy, his phone rang and a strange number flashed on the screen.
"Mr. Tomlinson, the divorce certificate has been issued. Shall I deliver it to you or to Miss Alvares?"
