Allison stopped where she was.

Never once had she expected Henry to bring Kelsey into this house before their marriage was officially over.

On the living room sofa, two women sat on either side of Kelsey, flanking her like she was royalty. The older one was Miranda Fowler—Henry's mother. The younger one, Leyla Fowler, was his younger sister.

Miranda clutched Kelsey's hand, beaming. "Kelsey, make yourself at home. From now on, you're family—I'll spoil you like my own daughter."

A hesitant look crossed Kelsey's face. "Mrs. Fowler, that doesn't seem appropriate. Allison is still living here. If I stay, won't that make things uncomfortable?"

Leyla waved it off. "Why would it be a problem? She's just someone Henry put in the house to run things. He never loved her. Once the divorce goes through, this place is yours."

As Allison watched the scene unfold, something inside her turned cold. The same mother and daughter who had spent years ordering her around were now treating Kelsey like a treasure. Suddenly, her entire marriage felt absurd.

For years, she had given everything she could for that family.

When Miranda was in the hospital—unconscious, incontinent, even the caregivers grimacing—Allison stayed by her bedside for over a month, doing everything herself.

And when Leyla's psycho ex-boyfriend kidnapped her, Allison ran to that rooftop and wrestled the knife away without a second thought.

The struggle that followed nearly cost Allison her life. He pushed her off. She would've hit the ground if the safety cushion hadn't caught her.

And after all that, to them, she was still just like a maid put in the house to run things.

The thought made her let out a quiet laugh.

The sound immediately caught the attention of everyone in the living room. Three pairs of eyes turned toward her at once.

Then Allison's gaze met Kelsey's.

For a split second, triumph glinted in Kelsey's eyes—gone before anyone else could catch it.

Then she rose, all grace. "So you're Allison Warren. Henry's told me so much about you. Lovely to finally meet."

Before Allison could speak, Leyla yanked Kelsey back down. "Kelsey, don't bother with her."

Then she snapped at Allison, "What are you waiting for? Kelsey's cup is empty. Go make her another coffee."

Remaining beside Leyla, Kelsey quietly studied Allison.

Plain white tee, jeans—decent figure, sure, but those big glasses swallowed up her face. Nothing special, really. Just what the rumors said. She looked exactly like the obedient wife everyone talked about.

Three years with this woman, and nothing had changed. Kelsey could see it—Henry wasn't over her.

Kelsey's smile widened as she glanced at the empty cup. "Two sugars, please."

The request left her mouth so naturally that it sounded completely reasonable.

Allison looked at her. A trace of ridicule appeared in her eyes. People always described Kelsey as gentle, fragile, and kind. Apparently, those descriptions weren't entirely reliable.

"Since when does a wife pour coffee for the other woman?" Allison said coolly.

The smile on Kelsey's face disappeared. Almost immediately, tears gathered in her eyes. "I think you've gotten the wrong idea. Henry has been pursuing me, that's true. But I know he's married. I've never accepted his feelings."

The sight of Kelsey's tears instantly set Leyla off. She glared at Allison. "How dare you talk to her like that? Who do you think you are?"

Miranda's face went cold. "Apologize. Now. Do you even know who you're talking to? She's Aimee Walker's protégé—the jewelry master from Fledria. Everyone in high society knows her name. If you drive her away, you'll answer to me."

The moment Miranda mentioned Aimee Walker, Allison nearly laughed. The statement was so absurd that she couldn't help wondering when she had supposedly accepted Kelsey as her student.

A trace of ridicule surfaced in her eyes.

"Really?" Allison said. "Then I suppose I don't have much of a choice. Looks like I'll be serving the coffee after all."