After my husband, Samson Ferrell, receives his year-end bonus, he takes his godsister, Maya Taylors, on a three-month overseas trip.

Meanwhile, I'm forced to continue working while taking care of our children on my own.

In the middle of the night, when my children catch fevers simultaneously, I have to console my younger daughter with soothing words while wiping my oldest daughters down with a damp towel.

My phone doesn't stop buzzing the whole time. From time to time, I receive pictures of Samson and Maya in swimwear while lounging under the Moldave sun. Sometimes, I see photos of them skiing happily in Chwiss.

Honestly speaking, if Samson is just a friend of mine, I'll find myself admiring his relaxed and casual lifestyle. Unfortunately, he is my legal husband.

My phone screen lights up again. This time, it's a racy picture sent by Maya.

"Hey, I heard that you're taking care of the children at home. Well then, I shall take good care of Samson."

After saving all of the photos and purchase history, I book an appointment with a divorce attorney.

The day of Samson's return to the country will be the day he receives a lawsuit to recover marital assets.

I saw Samson Ferrell's and Maya Taylors' bodies pressed very closely together in the photo. Her neck was also covered in bite marks and hickeys.

My fingertips hovered over the photo for a long time before finally sliding downward.

Samson was shirtless, his arms casually draped over Maya's shoulders.

I couldn't help looking down at his waist and abdomen.

Ten years had passed, and yet, the muscle lines on his lower abs were still clear and well-defined. It was the kind of physique achievable only through long-term, high-intensity training.

He had been taking really "good" care of himself.

On the other hand, I had aged terribly over the same timeframe.

I had barely managed to survive on the living expenses he sent me every month, and I'd been so busy that I hadn't even taken a proper look at myself in the mirror in a long time.

I instinctively lifted my hand and pressed down lightly on my tummy through my pajamas, where my three curved C-section scars were. I moved my hand slightly farther up, where the excess fat from childbirth and breastfeeding clung stubbornly in a lumpy mess.

My phone buzzed again with a notification, and Maya's text message appeared.

"It must be tough for you to stay home with the kids, isn't it, old hag? I can't believe you'd still believe Sam when he said that he was just treating me like his younger sister. No wonder you're stuck at home all alone every time. Dumb bitch."

I clenched my fists.

I had been truly dumb and naive—foolish enough to believe that Samson not coming home until well past midnight was due to overtime work, and that wiring me money each month for living expenses was already his best effort.

Just then, the bank issued me a credit card statement, reminding me that the month's payment was due.

These relentless blows, one after another, were like a tidal wave, suffocating me and making me fall into despair.

"Mommy?"

My eldest daughter, Bernice Ferrell, rubbed her eyes as she trotted out of her room with her two younger sisters, Eunice and Janice, trailing behind her.

They climbed onto the couch with me and hugged me tightly.

"Why are you sad, Mommy? Let me tell you a joke to make you happier!"

Bernice was insistent on cheering me up. Meanwhile, Eunice pulled a rug over my shoulders to comfort me.

I inhaled deeply and hugged them all tightly in my arms. I couldn't afford to sink into despair for the sake of my precious daughters.

I picked up my phone and called Samson.

"What is it, Alexa?" he barked, sounding frustrated about being interrupted in the middle of something. "What do you want? Didn't I tell you that I'm just tired of work and decided to go traveling on my own?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and asked, "When are you going to send over your year-end bonus? I'm… I'm running out of funds for this month's living expenses."

He was obviously caught off guard for a few seconds. Then, he replied, displeased, "Didn't I already tell you that the bonus is meant for my trip and my enjoyment? What the hell have you been doing with the money I sent you? Don't keep asking me for money!"

"Samson, the kids—"

"Whatever," he said, interrupting me as he softened his voice a little, sounding dismissive as always. "I'll be back tomorrow with souvenirs for you and the kids. Stop making a fuss and go to bed early tonight."

Then, he hung up on me. All I could hear was just the busy dial tone.

The last shred of hope died in my chest just then.

I put down my phone in an oddly calm manner.

Even the last of the warmth in my heart gradually cooled off, and what was left was only a deathly, eerie stillness instead.

Maybe this was for the best. This way, I wouldn't have any regrets about leaving anymore.

I picked up my soundly sleeping daughters and carried them back into their bedroom, then pulled out a sandalwood box from the innermost corner of my wardrobe.

This was the box that Mom had left for me before she passed away. She'd once earnestly and seriously told me about the contents inside.

"Lexi, this is going to be your last resort. No matter what happens in the future, always know that you can start over with this," Mom had told me.

I opened the box and saw several items neatly arranged inside.

There was a million-dollar insurance policy that had been purchased before my marriage, and a property deed with a clear title under my name.

Mom was right.

This wasn't wealth. It was my last resort and safety net. It was something for me to fall back on.

I then called up the lawyer's office without any hesitation.

"The evidence is quite sufficient, especially Mr. Ferrell's unauthorized disposal of a large amount of marital property and assets for personal enjoyment, as well as his serious misconduct.

"I can prepare the lawsuit and apply for property preservation overnight."

The lawyer, Fred Hoffman, then asked calmly and firmly, "Are you sure you want to proceed, Ms. Alexa Cohen?"

"Yes," I said flatly. "The sooner the better."

After hanging up, I sat at the laptop and began organizing and categorizing all the documents and information at hand.

Sometime around midnight, the sound of fireworks filled the sky.

It was Christmas that day.

This was a time of year when families should have been spending and celebrating together, but my husband was out enjoying himself with another woman instead.

How ironic.

The doorbell rang around 9:00 am later that morning. I opened the door and saw Patricia Mullen, my mother-in-law, standing outside with a few Christmas presents in her hands, smiling at me.

"Merry Christmas, Lexi! I'm here to visit you and the children. Where's Sam, by the way? Has he not woken up yet?"

I let Patricia into the house. "He's not home."

"Not home? Where did he go so early on Christmas day?"

She set down the presents and glanced around the living room, her smile diminishing slightly.

"Did he work overtime at the office again? Ah, my son is really too hardworking for his own good. You should be more understanding of him.

"It's hard on him to support the four of you at home. It's just too much pressure for him—"

"He didn't work overtime," I said, calmly interrupting her. "He received a year-end bonus and went on a three-month honeymoon around the world with Maya."

The smile on Patricia's face froze at once. Then, her expression turned dark and hostile.

"What nonsense are you spouting? Maya is only like a sister to him! They aren't seeing each other at all! Don't you try stirring trouble on Christmas day just because you can't keep your filthy thoughts to yourself, Alexa Cohen!"

"Just a sister to him?" I echoed with a cackle, then showed her the photos. "Take a good look at this. What kind of 'siblings' would do something like that?"

Patricia's face turned bright red when she saw the lewd photo on my phone. She immediately reached out to snatch my phone away.

"What the hell is this? Delete it immediately! How could you be such a vicious bitch to try and frame my son like this?"

I was prepared for her attack, so I immediately withdrew my hand and stepped back.

"I'm not framing anybody. These photos, along with their spending records for the past three months, will be used as evidence for my divorce lawsuit, the recovery of marital property, and claims for damages against Samson."

"Divorce?" Patricia exclaimed at the top of her voice. "I dare you to, you wench! Would Samson even have slept with other women if only you'd just given birth to a boy instead of three wretched girls?"

I laughed in anger, not feeling much hurt. I just felt a cold numbness in my chest.

"You can't yell at Mommy like that!"

I didn't know when Janice had woken up, but she rushed out to us and stood in front of me, trying to shield me from Patricia. Her face was red with anger.

She yelled, "You little bitch! You're just as vicious as your mother!"

Patricia was furious. In the heat of the moment, she raised her hand to slap Janice across the face. I tried to stop her, but I was too late.

A loud, crisp slap sounded and reverberated in the air.

However, I didn't hear Janice's screams or cries afterward.

Samson was standing at the doorway, looking travel-worn, his expression dark. The slap from Patricia earlier had landed squarely on his outstretched arm, which he'd managed to stop in time.

Then, he lowered his arm and stood right in front of her, blocking her way.

He demanded, "What do you think you're doing, Mom?"

I pulled the terrified Janice into my arms and hugged her tightly before taking a step back.

Patricia immediately switched her expression into an aggrieved one and complained, "Sam! You're finally back! Just look at what your damn wife did to me!

"I came here to visit them on Christmas day, but she and her daughters all ganged up on me to give me a hard time!"

Patricia continued complaining to Samson. "Your wife and kids tried kicking me out and even called me a dirty old hag!"

She then slapped her thighs and wailed loudly as if she had been utterly wronged.

Samson frowned and looked at me.

He asked, "Is Mom telling the truth? What were you kicking up a fuss for? Can't you just behave yourself on Christmas day?"

I chuckled out loud and met his gaze.

His face was still well-preserved, looking as youthful as it had ten years ago. However, his behavior and demeanor had changed. He was now a completely different person.

It was also winter when we got married ten years ago.

He would always rush home eagerly after work and even bring me little gifts every day. We were poor and thrifty back then, but at least we were very happy.

He used to buy me my favorite snacks, pull my hands into his, and whisper gentle nothings into my ears.

"I'm sorry that you have to suffer with me, darling. I promise that I'll give you a better life and make you the happiest person on earth after I've struck it rich. When that time comes, I promise that I'll always stay right by your side."

His warmth and his promises to me were real back then. However, the doubt and annoyance in his eyes now were also just as real.

Ten years had transformed this man, who used to love me to the moon and back, into a selfish monster.

I lowered my eyes and didn't bother explaining myself. I just gently patted Janice on the back.

Samson sighed and softened his tone with me.

"Alright, that's enough. Mom's not young anymore. You should be more thoughtful and considerate of her. I know that you're annoyed and frustrated, but can't you see that I'm already back?

"I'll just spend the rest of my time at home with you and the kids from today onward, okay?"

He was still as perfunctory and dismissive as usual, and I couldn't be bothered to argue with him or even expose him for his lies anymore.

"You shouldn't blame it all on Alexa like that, Sam."

Maya's voice suddenly sounded from behind him. She stepped out and hooked her hands around Samson's arm, giving me a smug, defiant look.

"It must be hard on her to take care of three kids at home by herself. It's normal for her to be in a terrible mood. It's just that her rudeness and horrible attitude toward her elders are quite embarrassing, don't you think?"

She had Samson's scent on her, and it stung my nose very badly.

Patricia immediately nodded repeatedly as if she'd finally found someone to agree with her.

"Exactly! You're still the best at being kind and understanding, Maya! You're not like some people who think they're all that even after giving birth to three moneysuckers, eating and living on Sam's penny, and thinking that gives her the right to step over other people's heads!"

Maya covered her mouth and grinned lightly as she swept her gaze around the house I'd kept for ten years.

"This house belongs to Samson. Don't you know how tired he is working all day just to keep your mouths fed?

"And you, Alexa. You haven't worked a day in your life, and you don't contribute a single thing to this household. Yet you still have the nerve to throw tantrums whenever you like and to trouble Sam like this?

"You really ought to be ashamed of yourself."

I looked at her, briefly glancing at Samson's slightly pleased yet uncomfortable face, my lips curling slightly upward.

"Fine."

They were stunned.

I picked up all three of my daughters and turned toward the bedroom.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Samson let go of Maya at once and ran up to me to stoop me.

"I'm packing up my things and leaving with the girls. Since this house belongs to you, and you're having a hard time making a living to feed the four of us who don't even deserve to live here, we'll just leave and stop causing trouble for you."

"Alexa Cohen!"

Samson grabbed my wrist and exclaimed, "Are you out of your mind? You are my wife! Where do you think you're taking my daughters to?"

"Your wife?" I turned around to glare at him coldly. "Do you mean to tell me that you still acknowledge me as your wife?

"Then what did you think you were doing taking your 'sister' out on a worldwide trip and fucking each other's brains out when your wife and three daughters were waiting for you to come home to them for Christmas?"

"You're spouting nonsense!" Samson roared, his expression changing. "There's nothing going on between Maya and me at all! What the hell do you mean by causing such a huge fuss on Christmas day with your filthy thoughts?"

"My filthy thoughts?" I echoed, laughing out loud. "I have seen every photo and spending record, and everything is as clear as day to me!

"Did you ever stop to think about what would happen to us when you were lavishly spending all the money that I and the girls scrimped by to save up?"

Then, there was a loud, resounding slap.