I Work Hard, He Has Another Family

Eight years ago, we were sailing on a yacht when a sudden storm hit.

The rescue team could only save two people. My husband's first love chose to save me, but she fell into the sea and vanished.

My husband spared no expense searching for her. Eventually, he bankrupted our family. We ended up homeless, sleeping on the streets.

Burdened by guilt, I joined a secret scientific research organization, determined to earn money to repay them. For eight long years, I worked tirelessly in silence.

When the project finally ended, I returned—only to find him embracing his first love at a lavish party in the mansion I had bought.

"You brought another woman into a house bought with my money? She’s alive—so why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me be separated from you and the children for eight whole years?"

My husband looked annoyed. Even my biological children now call someone else "Mom."

"Who knows where your money came from? You vanished without a word. We all thought you'd run off with another man. And because of you, I nearly lost the love of my life. What are you doing here now? You still owe Natasha!"

I stood frozen. So I was the only one living in guilt for all those years.

Fine. I’ll give him what he wants. A divorce. And I’ll reclaim everything that’s mine.

…

“Divorce,” I whispered, clutching my son’s hand as I turned to leave.

“Divorce?” Garry Allen’s voice turned cold. “If you divorce me, you’ll never see Seth again.”

My son pulled away from me.

“Where did you come from, bad woman! I don’t want to leave my parents!”

His cold, distant eyes pierced me like blades.

To earn money for my family, I had joined a classified research program. I couldn’t leave the facility—couldn’t even communicate freely. For eight years, I was absent.

Today, my mission was finally complete. I went home.

But when I opened the door, I saw Garry laughing, arms wrapped around a familiar woman at a party.

It was Natasha Denton.

She was the one who’d given me the last life vest before falling into the sea. We all thought she had died.

In the past eight years, Garry and I had maintained occasional contact, yet he never mentioned that Natasha survived.

“Garry, who is this woman?” Someone at the party asked in confusion.

Garry sneered. “Just a woman trying to seduce me.”

Natasha looked wronged. “If you need money, we can help you. Why wreck our family?”

Seth clung to her, glaring at me. “Bad woman! Don’t hurt my mom!”

"How dare you show up in someone else’s house like this?"

"Exactly. Garry and Natasha have been together for years. Who are you even?"

Someone hurled a wine glass at me. Another dragged me outside and threw me out.

Glass cut my forehead. Blood mixed with wine dripped down my face.

I am his wife! This is my house—bought with money I earned through sacrifice!

I clung to the doorframe, but no one believed me.

I broke free and ran upstairs. I remembered a wedding photo on the bedroom table.

Garry once sent it to me. “Wife, I miss you so much. My son and I will wait for you. Don’t worry—just focus on your work.”

I rushed down with the photo held high.

Everyone stared. For a moment, their faces froze. But then they burst into laughter.

“Still dreaming? That photos of the three of them.”

What?!

I looked closely.

The woman in the photo... was Natasha.

I staggered back, refusing to believe it. I searched the house for the photos and voice messages Garry once sent me.

“Wife, your favorite vase is still here. Your clothes are untouched…”

I followed those memories, but there was nothing.

Garry suddenly appeared, yanking me back downstairs.

Everyone watched as I descended, empty-handed. Their mocking smiles stabbed my soul.

“We come here often. Natasha is the lady of the house. We’d know if you were someone important.”

Natasha gave me a pitiful look and pulled out a thick wad of cash. “If you’re in trouble, Garry and I can help a little.”

I let out a bitter laugh and slapped the money from her hand.

Natasha stepped back, clutching her hand dramatically. “Hubby, I just wanted to help her…”

Garry glanced at her red hand, then stared at me in disgust.

He picked up the money she dropped and slammed it against my head. The impact made me dizzy.

“I’ve never met anyone as ungrateful as you!”

He turned to the bodyguards. “Throw her out!”

They dragged me outside. I couldn’t go in or leave.

Through the window, I saw Garry and Natasha dancing, bodies close, laughing until late into the night.

My heart went numb.

I took out my phone, hands trembling, and sent a message to my research mentor.

[Teacher, I’m willing to return to the institute. I’ll stay and never come out again.]

[Really? I’ll come pick you up in three days.]