The cruelest irony of all? Even our daughter's name was a monument to their affair.
I drew a slow breath, pulled the real property deeds from my bag, and slapped them against his chest. "Patrick Delgado. Dowry assets aren't marital property—I'm telling you for the last time: get your mistress out of my shop."
"And return every gram of my daughter's gold. All of it."
Patrick hadn't expected this. He'd assumed I'd swallowed his lies whole—never imagined I'd show up armed with proof.
He froze for a heartbeat. Then he snatched the documents and tore them to shreds, scattering the pieces at my feet. "You think a few forged scraps prove anything?"
Evelyn rushed to back him up. "Just go, will you? It's almost New Year's—we won't press charges."
I almost laughed. "You won't press charges?"
She faltered, a flicker of guilt crossing her face, but she lifted her chin. "That's right. Now leave—unless you'd rather be thrown out."
Patrick stepped closer, lowering his voice to a hiss. "Ava. I told you in the group chat to stay out of this."
"Louise gave the Delgado family a son. My mother's thrilled—if you make a scene and she ends up in the hospital, that's on you."
"Go home quietly, and you can still be Mrs. Delgado. Officially."
I used to love the way he smelled. Now it turned my stomach.
A small voice cut through the crowd: "Mommy!"
Every nerve in my body went taut. I spun around.
Denise stood at the edge of the onlookers in her kindergarten uniform, little backpack bouncing as Evan guided her through the gawking strangers.
"Mommy, why are you on the ground?" Her eyes found the blood on my knee, and tears spilled instantly. "Mommy, you're hurt!"
My heart seized. I scrambled to my feet, desperate to reach her first.
Too late.
Louise recognized her in an instant. She lunged forward and grabbed Denise by the shoulders. "So it's you!"
Then she whirled on me and cracked her palm across my face. "You knew your ugly little brat wasn't good enough for my son—so you decided to seduce my husband instead!"
The blow sent my ears ringing.
Denise burst into terrified sobs. She looked frantically at Patrick, her voice breaking. "Daddy… why is she hitting Mommy…"
Louise rounded on her with a snarl. "Who are you calling Daddy?"
"That matchmaking post was a joke! A grubby little gold-digger like you could never marry my son—not in a million years!"
Denise was wailing now, her whole body shaking—but Patrick only frowned.
"Take your mother home," he said flatly.
When I didn't move, he flicked a glance at Evan. The driver stepped forward immediately, reaching for my arm. "Come on, ma'am. Let's go—you're embarrassing yourself."
What?
The crowd heard it. Heard ma'am. And suddenly their judgment swung toward my daughter.
"Good lord—her own father's standing right there and she's calling some stranger 'Daddy'? Kid's already a gold-digger."
"Mother's delusional, daughter's a climber. What a pair."
"She's got her little girl chasing rich men already? What kind of mother raises a child like that?"
Denise was only five, but she understood enough.
She looked up at Patrick through her tears. "Daddy… are you leaving me and Mommy?"
He didn't answer.
She stared at him, biting down hard on her lip, her small face crumpling with bewildered hurt.
I pulled her tight against me, shielding her as best I could. Then I lifted my head and met Patrick's eyes.
"Patrick Delgado." Each word was ice. "Aren't you afraid of what happens when my parents find out about this?"
