Mina Long listened to the dead air after the call disconnected, frozen for a beat. Her father had never been satisfied with her—not once—and ever since Malani Castillo came back home, his criticism had only sharpened. Deep down, he thought she wasn’t good enough for Hunter Perry. Only his biological daughter was a suitable match. And yet, he had no choice but to use her to climb the social ladder with the Perry family.

After a long hesitation, Mina finally dialed Hunter Perry. He picked up on the second ring, his voice pure ice. “What do you want now?”

The words cut, but she forced herself to speak. “The day after tomorrow is Dad’s birthday party. Could you bring Vincenzo?”

Hunter’s brows drew together. Something flickered through his eyes. So she’d finally caved and called him. It had to be a play for attention, a desperate little trick to win back his favor. Clearly, she couldn’t let go of being Mrs. Perry.

“You’re the one who wants a divorce,” Hunter said coldly. “I don’t see why I should keep playing your husband. Is this you waving a white flag?”

“No. It’s not that.” Mina inhaled, shoving down her frustration. “My father wants to see Vincenzo.”

A bitter irony twisted through her mind. Before she’d been cast aside, he’d played the doting husband to perfection. Now his true colors were finally showing.

Irritation flared in Hunter’s eyes. Was this really only about letting her father see Vincenzo? He couldn’t name what it was, but frustration churned inside him. It was just an excuse to see him. She couldn’t possibly live without him.

Disdain dripped from his voice. “Your excuses are pathetic. Who taught you such transparent tricks?”

Every word jabbed at her heart, but Mina felt nothing now—numb, pain long forgotten. She swallowed the sarcastic reply on her tongue. Only three months left. Then she’d be free of him.

The phone was yanked away on the other end, and Vincenzo’s sharp voice cut in. “You promised not to be my mom! Why are you calling?”

The words went straight through her. How ironic, she thought bitterly. Her own son—the child she’d carried for nine months—had been raised to turn against her without even knowing it.

“Your grandfather wants to see you at his birthday party,” she said coolly. “Remember that.”

A chill settled over her beautiful face as her voice traveled through the phone and echoed across the Perry living room.

“I said I wouldn’t be your mother, and I don’t go back on my word. Take care of yourself.”

Then silence.

Suddenly, a loud female voice sliced through the quiet. “What’s with the serious tone, Hunter? Come on, look at my outfit! Isn’t it prettier than your wife’s?”

Mina knew that voice too well—Malani Castillo. A bitter ache tugged at her heart as Malani laughed and spoke into the phone. “Mina, don’t be mad. We’re just friends. I’m just stopping by more often to help take care of the family while you’re gone, aren’t I?”

Her condescending tone stung, but a wry smile tugged at Mina’s lips. Malani had already started moving in the second she left. But Mina didn’t care anymore. She wasn’t going to waste another minute on any of this.

She lowered her eyes and ended the call without a word.

Back in the Perry household, Hunter stared at his phone, an unexpected emptiness settling in his chest. His brows furrowed. He almost called her back—until Malani caught his hand.

“I know how to handle women,” Malani advised with a knowing smile. “The more she acts like this, the less you should indulge her. Otherwise, she’ll walk all over you. Women understand women best. My sister just needs time to realize she’s completely devoted to you.”

Hunter considered her words, then turned off his phone and put it away. She was right.

He’d spoiled Mina too much in the past. Now she had the nerve to mention divorce. Didn’t she understand that without him, she wouldn’t survive in the world? It was time to give her a taste of reality.

Exhausted from the argument, Mina felt her energy drain away, her injuries throbbing. Sitting on the sofa, she mindlessly scrolled through her phone and stumbled on an art exhibition announcement. Her heart stirred.

Before she’d taken up dancing, she’d loved painting. Her legs might never heal, but she could still pick up a brush. A smile spread across her face, a new light kindling in her eyes.

As long as she was alive, she wouldn’t give up her dreams or her passions. This wasn’t a trial. It was a new beginning.

The next day, Josiah Burke knocked on her door again. A hint of a smile touched his lips as he carried groceries into her home once more. “Here to check on the patient,” he said casually, leaving no room for argument.

Looking at the array of food on the table, warmth filled Mina’s heart. Her voice came out hoarse as she lowered her gaze. “I can’t thank you enough.”

She felt guilty leaning on him, knowing he was just an ordinary man. The car and watch were rented, after all.

Josiah’s eyes went cold for a moment, but he quickly smiled again. “In that case, join me at a gala?”

She was taken aback, her hesitation obvious as her eyes flicked to her injured hand and legs.

Josiah noticed. A flicker of concern crossed his eyes as he continued, “Once you’re feeling better, of course.”

Mina remained hesitant. Her whole life, she’d watched wealthy people mingle at events like that, longing to be part of it. She’d begged Hunter to take her, but he’d refused. She still remembered his words, completely devoid of warmth: “Mina, only people of high status attend gatherings like that. I wouldn’t want you to feel out of place. Besides, I wouldn’t want anyone else to see you. I want to keep you all to myself.”

In hindsight, it had never been about protecting her. He simply thought she wasn’t worthy.

Seeing her reluctance, Josiah leaned in, an amused smile playing on his lips as he gently teased, “Didn’t you say you wanted to thank me, Miss Long?”

His tone was playful, but there was an unyielding edge beneath it. Mina caught the mischievous glint in his eyes and sighed inwardly. She did want to go. It had been a long time since she’d worn a beautiful gown.

So she nodded. “I’ll go with you once I’m better.”

Josiah settled back into his chair, an obsessive glint in his eye as he mused. What Hunter couldn’t give you, I will.

On her father’s birthday, Mina Long waited on pins and needles for a call from Hunter Perry and Vincenzo. When it never came, she dialed—only for the call to be declined before it could ring twice. She stared at her phone until the screen blurred, then finally grabbed the gift and flagged down a cab to her parents’ house.

The moment she stepped inside, her mother’s voice sliced through the air, dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, look who finally decided to join us! We invite you, but you’re too busy to come—like we’re nobody?”

Her mother’s gaze snagged on the injuries on Mina’s hand and legs, and for a split second, something in her face softened.

“Malani says you’re practically healed. Who exactly are you trying to fool?” Her tone was dismissive, and the words landed like a slap. Mina’s heart ached.

Her mother had once been kind to her. Then Malani Castillo came back, and everything changed. Her parents were bitter over the life their biological daughter had missed, but they couldn’t simply cast Mina out—not without bruising the family’s reputation.

So Mina had spent years tiptoeing around that house, until Hunter Perry’s arrival felt like salvation. But the rescue she’d prayed for only dragged her deeper into despair.

“The truth is, I can’t hold a scalpel anymore. I can’t dance either. Those are the consequences.” Mina’s voice trembled as she watched her mother’s face.

Her mother’s discomfort flickered, but she pressed on. “You were never as good a dancer as Malani, anyway. One accomplished dancer in the family is plenty.”

Something in Mina went colder. How much did her parents know about the crime she’d been blamed for? How deeply were they involved?

She stood there quietly, pale and fragile.

“Cat got your tongue?” her mother snapped, temper rising. “We raised you all these years, and this is the thanks we get?”

“Enough!” Her father’s voice cut through the room as he came down the stairs, brow furrowed. “What is this? Bickering like children?”

He lowered himself onto the sofa. When he saw Mina alone, his expression turned to stone. “Hunter and Vincenzo aren’t here?”

The shift in him was impossible to miss. Mina’s smile went stiff.

“Something came up. They couldn’t make it.”

Her father’s face soured as he looked her up and down. “Then what good are you? Married all these years and you’ve brought this family nothing.”

“We raised an ungrateful daughter,” her mother added, voice dripping acid.

Their words sliced through Mina, leaving her hollow. She sat still, hands clenched tight in her lap, letting every criticism land. Once, she’d been foolish enough to ache for their affection. Now she understood: to them, she was just a tool.

“Mom! Dad! I’m here!” Malani’s bright voice rang through the room. Mina turned just in time to see her throw herself into their mother’s arms.

Their mother’s face lit up. She ran a hand affectionately over Malani’s hair. “My sweet girl. Did you miss me? Why are you late today?”

Watching them, something bitter surged up Mina’s throat. Once, her mother had looked at her like that. Then Malani returned, and that version of her mother disappeared.

For reasons Mina still didn’t understand, she had once fought tooth and nail for their affection. She’d sold nearly every piece of jewelry she owned to buy her mother an emerald set. Her mother had looked at it with disdain. “No matter how expensive, it still isn’t what Malani gives me.” Then she’d broken the emeralds, piece by piece.

Now, Mina felt nothing at all.

Malani giggled and pointed toward the door. “I brought someone with me!”

Vincenzo and Hunter walked in. Vincenzo bounded straight to his grandfather, beaming. “Happy birthday, Grandpa!”

“Good, good.” Her father’s sour mood vanished. His face lit up as he fussed over Vincenzo, practically glowing with pride.

From the sofa, Mina watched them fall into easy laughter. Her son. Her husband. And yet she sat there like an outsider looking in.

Something twisted inside her. She’d thought Hunter wasn’t coming today. The truth was simpler: he just hadn’t wanted to arrive with her.

Vincenzo handed his grandfather a gift, grinning. “This is for you. Malani and I picked it out together.”

Her father’s sternness melted. He patted Vincenzo’s head with a smile. “Our Vincenzo is quite the charmer. Thank goodness he didn’t take after your mother.”

Vincenzo tilted his head, thinking it over. “Mom’s so clumsy. I don’t want to inherit that. I got my smarts from Dad.”

He paused, then added, “Malani’s taught me a lot too.”

Malani stuck out her tongue and glanced at Mina. “Kids say whatever comes to mind. Don’t take it to heart, Mina, okay?”

Mina smiled, all sarcasm. “None taken. I am indeed foolish.”

Foolish enough to believe the lies of that father-son duo. Foolish enough to trust their deceit.

Her mother’s irritation bubbled over. “All right, let’s go to the dining room.”

She turned to Malani, warmth flooding back into her face, and playfully tapped her nose. “Your favorite pulled pork is waiting.”

Then, with a dismissive glance at Mina, she added in a condescending tone, “You might as well come too.”

Mina kept her face blank. At first, she’d tried to keep the peace—surface-level, at least. But if this was how they wanted to play it, she was done enduring. Before she left, she would cut ties with them for good.

Hunter Perry took in the family’s coldness, then glanced at Mina. His frown deepened. She stood there, untouched by their indifference, her eyes meeting his without a flicker.

Her cold stare hit him like a wall. Something hollow opened in his chest, and his brow knit. Why was she being so stubborn? Didn’t she understand she needed to make amends?

“If you weren’t so headstrong…” Hunter began, his voice low and distant, reaching for her hand. “This is why they’re upset.”

Mina met his eyes, irony glinting in hers. “Is that what you think?”

All these years, he’d watched her family treat her like a stranger. He knew every grievance she carried, and still he urged her to tolerate it. To endure. Maybe her pain had never mattered to him. Maybe he just liked bringing her home so he could see Malani.

She brushed his hand away and limped toward the dining room. “Save your concern for Malani.”

The family gathered around the table, every eye on Malani. Then a voice cut in from behind them. “What? No one waited for me?”

Mina Long looked up just as John, the eldest Castillo son, walked in and locked eyes with her. Dressed head to toe in sleek black, his sharp features matched the smile on his face as he casually dropped into a chair at the table. Then he shot her a dismissive look, his brows knitting. “Why is she here?”

Mina pressed her lips into a thin line and said nothing. She knew exactly how John felt about her.

Malani Castillo, on the other hand, practically bounced over to him and looped her arm through his. “It’s Dad’s birthday, so of course she’s here. I was starving and couldn’t wait, so I already started eating. You’re not mad, are you?”

Despite his usual stern demeanor, John let out a low chuckle and tapped her nose playfully. The easy familiarity between them made Mina’s chest ache. There’d been a time when she’d admired her brother more than anyone.

John was young and accomplished—the driving force behind the family’s business. Yet he had always kept Mina at a distance. She used to think that was just his nature, until Malani came along and revealed the warmth he reserved only for his biological sister.

Mina let out a bitter laugh. Blood really was thicker than water.

Across the table, their mother, Grace, offered Malani a dinner roll, her tone gentle. “Malani, how’s the prep for the dance competition coming along? Feeling confident?”

Dance. The word pricked at Mina’s heart like a tiny thorn.

She knew Malani was entering a dance competition—the same one that had once been Mina’s childhood dream. But that dream was no longer within reach.

Malani laughed, sliding Mina a sideways glance, and answered casually, “I’ve prepared pretty well, but there are still a few tricky parts.”

She placed a piece of steak onto Mina’s plate with a smile. “Mina, could you give me some pointers? Even if you can’t dance anymore, you still know the technique, right?”

Mina looked down at the steak on her plate, face blank, and scraped it into the trash. “I’m allergic to beef,” she said coolly. “I can’t eat it.”

They all knew that. But no one seemed to care.

As a child, she’d once gotten violently ill after eating beef—hives, a raging fever, an emergency trip to the hospital. Her mother had cried and held her through the night. Yet at the next meal, beef was served again. Her mother insisted Mina just needed to build up a resistance.

When Malani returned to the family, her love for beef took over every meal, and Mina hadn’t had a proper dinner since.

John’s face darkened. He slammed a palm against the table, scowling. “Did all those years of raising you go to waste? If you can’t eat it, just leave it on your plate. Who exactly are you giving attitude to?”

Mina opened her mouth to defend herself, but the words wouldn’t come. They ignored her out of habit, treated her like she was invisible. And now, the moment she pushed back, they were furious.

Enough is enough, Mina thought. She had less than three months left before she could return to her real home with the Gibson family. At least they were her biological family.

“I’m sure Mina didn’t mean it,” Malani chimed in, pouring Mina a cup of coffee. “She might be upset about the competition since she can’t participate anymore.”

The challenge in her bright smile was unmistakable. “You wouldn’t be mad at me, right?”

Coffee was another thing Mina couldn’t have. Her mind reeled at the absurdity of it. “Why would I be mad? I won an award in that competition when I first started dancing,” she retorted, sarcasm lacing every word.

If not for her sacrifices for this family—if not for her ruined legs—would Malani even stand a chance on that stage?

Grace scoffed dismissively. “Don’t mind her. How could she ever compare to you?”

“Yeah, Malani’s the best dancer,” Vincenzo chimed in, smiling. “My mom’s just a housewife. I’ve never even seen her dance.”

His eyes turned to his grandfather, full of curiosity. “Grandpa, was she really good?”

“It was just luck and youth back then,” their grandfather replied, patting the boy’s head. “Nothing compared to Malani now.”

Mina’s fingers clenched tightly, her nails digging into her palms hard enough to nearly draw blood. The sacrifices she’d made—the countless ruined dance shoes, the bloodied toes—none of it mattered. Her achievements had been dismissed as mere luck.

Her gaze grew cold as it swept through her family. “If I were so lucky, I wouldn’t have lost the use of my legs,” she said lightly, turning to Hunter Perry. “Wouldn’t you agree, Hunter?”

A flicker of discomfort flashed in Hunter’s eyes. His lips tightened, his expression hardening. He frowned, dissatisfied. “Mina, you’re being too sensitive. Malani just wants your guidance. We couldn’t have predicted what happened.”

Mina almost laughed at his hypocrisy. The Castillo family was like a devouring beast, and every moment in their presence made her sick.

She pushed herself up from the table. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

Grace’s face twisted in anger. “Have you grown bold? Daring to show us attitude after all we’ve done for you?”

Malani added, “Mina, I didn’t mean anything by it. Wouldn’t it be nice if we all just got along? You’re still the same as before! Even before you went to jail, when you pushed me into the lake, I didn’t tell Mom. I thought you’d change after three months inside.”

Mina frowned. They had hardly ever interacted alone before her imprisonment.

“When did I ever push you?” she asked icily, only to be cut off by Hunter.

“Enough!”

Hunter’s stern gaze was unreadable as he set down his fork with a sharp clang. “Mina, apologize to Mother and Malani.”

Mina felt suffocated. She pressed her lips into a thin line and refused to speak.

“It’s your fault,” Vincenzo chimed in. “You’re just a wicked witch. You’re not fit to be my mom.”

Silence fell over the dining room.

Mina surveyed them, her anger dissolving into a cold laugh. “Why should I?”

She shoved her chair back, tossed her utensils onto the floor, and stormed out. Her mother began yelling behind her as chaos erupted, but Mina felt a rush of satisfaction.

Years in the Castillo household, treading on eggshells to please them, had led her here. And her husband and son—the ones she shared a life and a home with—wouldn’t even take her side.

This was a family she should have left long ago.

She flung open the front door and stepped into the cold breeze, feeling unburdened. From behind, hurried footsteps approached, and a hand grasped her wrist firmly—