I slowly lifted my gaze to the mirror, taking in our reflection.
He stood tall and handsome. I looked gaunt, hollowed out.
"Resentful?" A brittle laugh escaped me.
"What right do I have to resent anything? I couldn't even protect my own child."
His expression twisted, as if my words had struck a nerve.
"That was an accident!" His voice rose sharply. "Why do you keep dragging it up? I've been trying to make it up to you!"
Make it up to me?
I was born into wealth. Money meant nothing to me—it was the most useless thing he could offer.
I had no desire to argue anymore. I pushed him toward the door.
"Serena, what do you want from me?"
"What do I want?" I met his eyes, my tone cutting. "I want you to stay away from me."
In the end, he let go.
From that day on, he rarely set foot in my room. The paper-thin pretense between us? Neither of us bothered maintaining it anymore.
When the baby turned one hundred days old, the Wiley family threw an extravagant celebration.
The venue was the sprawling lawn of the old family estate. The city's elite had turned out in full force—every name that mattered was there.
I wore a custom red gown, cradling the child swaddled in silk brocade, standing beside Grandfather and Grandmother as guests showered us with congratulations and envious glances.
Grandfather had named him Nathan Wiley—Qingyan in the old tongue—wishing him a life of clarity and peace, like still waters under a clear sky.
Halfway through the banquet, Grandfather took the stage, cane in hand, and picked up the microphone.
The room fell silent instantly.
"Today, on the occasion of my great-grandson Nathan's hundred-day celebration, I have an announcement."
His voice rang out, strong and commanding.
"Wiley Group has established a new subsidiary specializing in premium infant products. Current projections value it at one billion dollars."
He paused, letting the figure sink in.
"Today, I'm giving this company to my granddaughter-in-law, Serena, as a gift."
Applause erupted like thunder.
I held Nathan close and dipped into a graceful bow, a polished smile fixed on my face. Gasps and whispers rippled through the crowd.
Every eye in the room burned with envy.
A billion-dollar company, handed over just like that. This was favor beyond measure.
I was about to step onto the stage to express my gratitude when—
The banquet hall doors slammed open.
A woman in a white dress burst through, shoving past security, wild-eyed and frantic.
Davina.
She tore through the crowd like a woman possessed, charging straight for the main stage.
"WAIT!"
The room froze. Silence crashed down like a guillotine.
Justin's face drained of color. He rushed forward to intercept her.
"Davina! What are you doing here? Stop this!"
She wrenched free of his grip. Her hand shot up, clutching a document, her bloodshot eyes locked onto mine. Her voice came out raw, ragged.
"I'm causing a scene?" She let out a shrill laugh. "Justin, look at her! She's holding MY child, basking in the glory that should be MINE! She's the one who should be stopped!"
Davina shook Justin off and pulled another document from her bag, thrusting it high above her head.
"Today, I'm going to show everyone exactly how the Wiley family treats people!"
She stormed onto the stage and snatched the microphone from the emcee.
"Everyone, take a good look!" Her voice blasted through the speakers, echoing across the venue. "This is a paternity test!"
The crowd held its breath.
"It says right here—in black and white—Nathan shares 99.9% of his DNA with ME!"
Her voice cracked with triumph and fury.
"I am his biological mother!"
The room erupted.
Every pair of eyes swiveled toward me like searchlights locking onto a target.
Suspicion. Contempt. Barely concealed glee.
My in-laws' faces drained of color. They stared at me, their gazes sharp with unspoken accusations.
Justin rushed onto the stage, trying to snatch the report from Davina's hands, his voice low and coaxing.
"Stop this. We'll talk at home, alright?"
But Davina ignored him. Her eyes were bloodshot, fixed on me with raw hatred.
"Serena! You thief! You stole my child and you stand there playing the victim? Have you no shame?"
Her finger jabbed toward me as she screamed herself hoarse.
The venue descended into chaos.
Justin lunged to cover Davina's mouth, but she bit down hard on his hand.
"Justin, you have one choice now—divorce her and marry me!"
My assistant moved silently to my side and set an antique black-lacquered wooden box at my feet.
I drew a deep breath. Nathan had started fussing in my arms, but I held him close as I walked slowly onto the stage.
I took the paternity report from Davina's trembling fingers. I didn't even glance at it.
Then I picked up the microphone and looked out at the sea of faces below—shock, curiosity, judgment, all of it.
"She's right."
My voice was steady. I even managed a faint smile.
"Everything she said is true."
The chaos peaked. Whispers became shouts. Someone gasped.
At that moment, my assistant stepped onto the stage and placed a heavy sandalwood box into my hands.
I opened it.
I looked into the microphone, then out at those stunned faces, and spoke.
"Please. Bear with me a moment longer."
"Because today... I have a surprise of my own."
