A couple stood outside the door with their luggage and keys.

The plump woman stepped forward angrily. “Speak now. We will call the police if you do not.”

I sneered and met her gaze. “Call the police. Go ahead. I would like to see who your son is. How dare you call my home his?”

The woman looked doubtful and stepped outside to check the house number. “There is no mistake. This is my son’s home.”

“Darling, stop talking. It must be a burglary. Look, he is holding a gift box. It looks expensive.”

Her eyes landed on the box in my hand. Her expression changed instantly. She rushed toward me and raised her hand.

She slapped me hard. Her sharp nails scratched my face. “You thief. How dare you steal my daughter‑in‑law’s jewelry? Do you know who she is? She is the CEO of Ford Group. How dare you cause trouble in her home? You must have a death wish.”

My face snapped to the side, and the taste of blood filled my mouth. Before I could turn back, the man punched me in the stomach, then struck my face again.

The woman kicked over my suitcase, spilling everything onto the floor. “I want to see what you stole from our house.”

“Do not touch my things.” I gasped for breath as blood dripped onto the floor.

“Oh, how dare you yell? Darling, call security. What kind of fancy neighborhood is this? They cannot even stop a thief.”

“John Harvey, call our son and daughter‑in‑law right now. They do not even know a thief broke in.”

During the days I cared for my father, I could not eat or sleep, and I fell seriously ill. If not for that, I would not have been beaten so easily.

Seeing my weakened state, the couple smiled smugly. While waiting for Jessie, they began touching the items in the house. “Who bought this painting? It is so ugly. Let us throw it away.”

John picked up the painting with a disgusted look. He was about to toss it outside when I widened my eyes. “You cannot throw that.”

“You fool, who gave you the right to speak?” John stomped on my face. His dirty shoe pressed against my skin.

“You cannot throw it. I told you, I am the owner of this house.” My cheek throbbed, swollen and numb, making my words slur.

“Pah. Are you crazy for money? You think everyone is as lucky as my son to marry a rich woman? Who do you think you are?”

He spat on my face.

“Look how dirty you are. If our daughter‑in‑law sees this, it will ruin her impression.”

John pouted, stood up, and carried the painting outside. I scrambled to my feet and limped after him.

“You want it that badly?” John stroked his chin, a cruel smile forming. “Kneel down and beg me.”

I gritted my teeth. All that mattered was getting the painting back.

He did not keep his promise. He raised the painting high and slammed it onto the ground.

“No!” I cried out.

The protective glass shattered. He picked up the painting and tore it to pieces.

It was my grandmother’s last work, the one she said she would leave to her future granddaughter‑in‑law.

My grandmother had been a famous painter. Her works were priceless.

My strength left me. I collapsed to the ground in despair.

Suddenly, the headlights of a nearby car shone on me.

“Honey!”

Jessie appeared before me anxiously, and her eyes filled with concern. She carefully wiped my face with her expensive clothes, and she did not seem bothered by the dirt.

She took me to the hospital. Throughout the treatment, I did not speak to her, and she kept asking me questions in a worried tone.

I lay in the hospital room with my eyes closed. She arranged for the family nutritionist to prepare a meal and deliver it that night, and she also arranged for a professional medical team to examine me.

The nurse outside looked at me with envy before she left, and she practically praised my good fortune to my face.

I calmly took out my phone. “Hello, is this 911? I need to make a police report. I have been—”

A sudden rush of air swept past me. My phone was snatched away, and the call ended at once.

I looked up at Jessie.

She pressed her lips together and explained, “Honey, Shane’s house was burglarized, and it is not safe. You have been staying at the hospital with your father, so I agreed to let his parents stay at our place for now. That talk about a daughter‑in‑law is not true. I told Shane long ago that only you would be my husband. I was only fooling around with him. You have my heart. I will come home. Shane was wrong. I will have him apologize to you. I do not think calling the police is necessary.”

She clearly sided with Shane. My fists tightened and loosened as I forced out a bitter laugh. “Jessie, that is our home. How could you let anyone move in? What do you take me for? Since you care so much about him, why do we not get a divorce? I will make room for both of you.”

My father had been hit by Shane, and she wanted me to endure it and forgive him. I had been humiliated by Shane’s parents, and she still wanted me to endure it and forgive them.

She rushed toward me in a panic and tried to pull me back. “I will not divorce you. I love you. How could I divorce you? I told you he and I are only friends with—”

The door swung open, and her words stopped.

Shane saw me, rushed forward, and knelt before me. “Liam, it is my fault. Blame me if you must. Do not make things difficult for my parents. I beg you.”

Jessie hurried to help him up. “Shane, what are you doing? Do not worry. No one will trouble your parents while I am here.”

Shane hugged Jessie, and his eyes held a clear challenge.

When he left, he claimed he was too emotional and asked Jessie to walk him out.

His constant provocations finally pushed me past my limit. I called out to Jessie as she reached the door. My eyes burned, and my voice shook with anger. “Jessie, I said I want a divorce.”

Jessie stood still. Her eyes looked tired, and she did not seem concerned. She assumed I used divorce as an excuse to resist her again. “Honey, Shane is still young. He cannot handle much. Do not take his words or actions to heart. I will take him home first. I will come back later.”

After she left, I lowered my head, and tears streamed down my face.

Late that night, I drifted in and out of sleep. My body felt warm, and I pushed the covers aside. I reached out and touched something cool. I moved closer, and the coolness shifted toward me. I gasped softly, confused and half awake.

It became a restless night.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw an unfamiliar face beside the bed, and I gasped.

Then I heard the voice I knew best from the couch across the room. “Honey, how are you? Feeling any better? I told you that you needed to take care of yourself. It is a pity I promised Shane that no man could touch me for the next six months, including you.”