Genevieve's point of view.

"Hey, thief, take it off! That's my mother's favorite gold necklace!" my stepson, Kelvin, yelled, making everyone in the Grand Hall whip their heads toward us.

"Kelvin, this is not—"

"Haven’t you had enough? You killed my mother and married her husband. Isn’t that enough? Why are you stealing her things too? Do you really want to be like my mother so much?"

I shook my head desperately. "I'm not trying to be like her."

Kelvin scoffed.

"Don’t think you can replace my mother because you successfully killed her. My father and I hate you. You should leave our family before it's too late!"

Murmurs erupted in the crowd as everyone was pointing fingers at me.

"How dare she try to take her sister’s place?"

"What if she killed her sister just to marry her husband?"

"Is she planning on killing the boy too? Is that why the boy hates her?"

"How desperate can she be?"

My eyes searched the crowd, looking for my husband. I finally found him, and I waited for him to say something... anything in my defense. But I was just daydreaming—he would never defend me.

"Her mother would be so ashamed to have a murderer as a daughter," a woman in the crowd said.

Humiliation consumed me. With tears brimming in my eyes, I ran out.

>>>>>

Reaching my room, I slammed the door behind me and collapsed on my bed as I unleashed my tears.

Everyone thinks I killed my sister, but that's far from the truth.

My stepsister and I were on a trip together, then we met with an accident, and she gave up her only chance of survival for me and her son—he was seven at that time.

Kelvin was too young to be motherless. My stepfather and mother begged me to marry Fred, my stepsister's husband, so that I could legally take care of Kelvin until he turned fourteen. But Kelvin thought I killed his mother to marry his father.

Like father, like son—Fred also hates and blames me for the death of his wife and therefore takes out his frustrations on me.

I reached for my phone and dialed my mother’s number. "Mom," I cried into the phone.

"Oh, honey, why are you crying? What’s wrong?" she asked.

"I'm done, Mom."

"You're done with what?"

"Kelvin, he..." I choked on my words. "I'm getting a divorce tomorrow."

I heard her gasp quietly. "You can't. Kelvin is still young, he can't—"

"He's fourteen, Mom," I cut her off. "He's no longer a baby anymore. I've done the best I can and..."

I was startled as my door burst open, and Kelvin barged in with a sinister smile.

"Why are you hiding here? Don’t want the world to know you're a snake?"

"I've got to go," I whispered to my mom and hung up.

I wore a weak smile as I faced him. "Kelvin, you shouldn't ruin your father's event simply because you want to tarnish my reputation," I told him nicely.

"Shut up!" He charged toward me and punched me in the face.

My hand flew to my lips as I felt blood dripping onto my lap.

I was stunned that he resorted to violence at a simple correction. Back in the hall, his father was hosting a welcome party for the new Mafia Lord. Bringing up our family issues might affect his father badly—but who am I to care if neither of them doesn't care?

"You think I'll sit back and watch you parade in my mother's glory? In your dreams!" He leaned closer to my ear. "I've told you before, I’ll keep making your life a living hell until you leave!"

His eyes held so much hatred and disdain. How can he be so ungrateful? I spent half of my youth bringing him up, trying to be a loving mother to him.

"I'll leave tomorrow," I said, jumping out of the bed and heading out, but my legs froze at what I saw outside my door.

My legs wobbled, and I fell to my knees. On a box was a dead cat—my cat.

My late father gave me the cat on his deathbed. He told me the cat would keep me company while he's gone, and now the cat is gone too.

"Do you like my little surprise?" Kelvin asked, his sinister smile not leaving his face.

Anger pumped through my veins. I sprang up at once and pushed him away from my cat.

"Why did you do that?!" I screamed in his face.

He looked surprised, since this was the first time I had raised my voice at him, but before he could react, a hand shoved me hard and I fell down, my head banging on the wall behind me.

"What is wrong with you?" Fred growled at me. "Is this how you manhandle my son when I’m not around?"

His eyes shot toward my cat. "It’s just a cat. You shouldn’t make a fuss about it!"

I stared at him speechlessly. It's just a cat to them—but it’s my father's promise to me. I’ve had enough. This can’t continue.

"Go throw it away and—"

"Let’s get a divorce, Fred!" I cut him off.

Genevieve's Point of View

"And what is that supposed to mean? You think divorce is a word you should be throwing around?" Fred's eyes narrowed, anger brewing in them. "It hasn't gotten to divorce yet."

My mouth fell open as I watched him in dismay. It hasn't come to divorce... Am I supposed to die before he takes me seriously?

"Listen to me, Genevieve, I don't have time for your shenanigans. I have guests waiting for me outside!" Then he stormed out, leaving me to wallow in my thoughts.

Why does he always walk out when there's a serious discussion? Why won't he just calm down and listen to what I have to say for once?

My eyes moved to the box containing my dead cat, and uncontrollable tears flowed down my face. My only friend was gone forever.

I didn't go out of my room, and I couldn't sleep throughout the night. I held my father's photo, staring at it with a sad smile as my mind wandered. Would things be any different if my father was alive? Would I be leading a better life than this?

The chirping of birds outside my window made me realize it was morning.

I picked myself up, getting ready to go bury my cat, when my phone beeped and I saw a message from my mom: "Come over. We need to talk!" the text read.

As if I had been expecting her text, I bolted into the bathroom to brush my teeth before leaving.

*******

It wasn't long before I made it to my stepfather's home. My mother was talking to a man at the door, and she smiled warmly when she saw me, but I was too sad to return her smile.

"Have a nice day, Mr. Park," she said to the man, then faced me. "Let's talk inside."

My mother and I made ourselves comfortable on sofas next to each other, and she held my hand comfortingly.

"Fred called me this morning. He told me about what transpired between you and Kelvin yesterday," she said.

I sighed mentally. Of course, he's always the first to call Mom in situations like this.

"You see, Kelvin is just a kid who grew up without a mother. It's normal for him to be stubborn and a bit hard to handle..."

"He didn't grow up without a mother," I interrupted her quietly. "I played the role of a mother to him. Most kids in his situation aren't as fortunate as him."

"I understand you, Genevieve. But you can't just walk away now. Think about the years you've spent with them, think about the years you've been family."

I laughed briefly. "Family... They've never seen me as part of their family, and I don't want to keep forcing myself on them anymore."

"Genevieve, you—"

"Mom, family was you, Dad, and me. We were happy, and that is family." My eyes watered as I recalled how happy I was when my father was alive.

Her expression softened when she saw my teary eyes. "Do you really want to walk away from this?" she asked.

I thought about my stepsister. She was good to me; she treated me like a biological sister. I would have stayed because of her, but her son and husband wouldn't accept me no matter how hard I tried.

I've tried my best, I've given my everything, and I believe she won't blame me for leaving at this point. It's time I lived for myself.

"My mind is made up, Mom. I want a divorce," I said, my voice firm and confident.

Mom sighed deeply. She looked like she wanted to persuade me to stay, but she was out of words... I guess.

"Here." She dropped a file on my lap.

My eyes lit up when I saw Divorce Agreement boldly written at the top. I couldn't hold back my joy as I broke into a bright smile.

I'll no longer be Mrs. Einstein after signing this document. I'll no longer try to please anyone or make them love and accept me. I'll be Miss Genevieve Albrecht. I'll be free to live for myself and do the things I love.

I signed the document without hesitation and joyfully left.

*******

It was already dark by the time I got home—just 7:30 p.m., though. I searched for my keys in my bag but couldn't find them. Then I remembered I had forgotten to take them with me.

Just as I was about to ring the doorbell, Kelvin came out. He was smiling, playing a game on his phone, but his expression turned into a detestable scorn as soon as he saw me.

"Wow! Let's give a standing ovation. The murderer finally knew to come home," he said, mockery embedded in his words. "We thought karma had finally visited you, and you'd been struck dead by thunder!" he spat.

In response, a loud thunderclap sounded, and a strong wind began to blow, indicating it was going to rain in a minute.

"Kelvin, open the—" My words stuck in my mouth when a lady's voice spoke from inside.

"Who are you talking to, Kelvin?"

"Frieda Lawrence," I whispered as she walked towards Kelvin and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She raised her head and saw me, then smiled slyly.

"Oh, you came right on time. Fred is looking for you to prepare dinner." She faced Kelvin. "Come on, buddy, let's go." And they left.

Then came the heavy downpour—the heavy rain.

Genevieve's Point of View

My heart broke as I watched them leave. What a life. He'd rather choose a woman he's not familiar with over me because he thinks I killed his mother.

Since there was no way I could enter the house, I decided to go spend the night at my friend's. But just as I turned to leave, the door pushed open, and the housekeeper came to me.

"Mrs. Einstein, why didn't you come in? The door wasn't locked," she said.

My mouth fell open in surprise. "What?" I guess it's my fault for not trying to push it first.

"Come in, it's cold outside." She showed me in.

I'm drenched by now, very cold, and my legs could hardly move, but I dragged myself inside.

My eyes zeroed in on Fred, who caged Frieda against a wall as they kissed and romanced themselves. Kelvin, on the other hand, was playing a video game.

I ignored them and began dragging myself upstairs, but Fred's angry voice stopped me.

"And where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"To my room," I answered.

"Is that the first place you should be? Shouldn't you be in the kitchen cooking dinner for us?"

"Order takeouts," I said, heading towards my room, but I was yanked back before I could make it.

"Do you want to get my son killed? Have you forgotten that you're the only one who can cook Kevin's food? You know he's a very picky eater!"

I raised my brows. "Well, since you know he's a picky eater, why don't you get your lady friend to study his diet and learn how to cook foods that would suit his taste?" My expression turned cold. "I've signed the divorce papers; we'll be legally separated soon."

His nostrils flared in anger immediately after I said those words, and he delivered a slap to my face.

"It seems like I've been too lenient with you. I have told you, you can't just get up and think you can divorce me!" he narrowed his eyes. "You know how much I hate the word 'divorce.' If you provoke me too much, I'd fulfill your wish and get the divorce!"

"Please do," I gulped. "The divorce papers will be delivered tomorrow. I've signed my part; please sign yours too."

His anger grew as he stared at me, but I didn't care. I'd had enough.

Kelvin, who's been playing video games, rushed towards us with a satisfied smile.

"Really? You've signed the divorce papers? Does it mean you're leaving our house tonight?" Excitement coated his words.

"Oh no, Kelvin, you shouldn't say that. Your mother loves your father, and saying these things would hurt her," Frieda chipped in, pretending to be a peacemaker, but I saw the joy on her face.

"She's not my mother, and she'll never be!" he looked me in the eyes. "You're not qualified to be my mother!"

"Good, because I don't want to be anymore," I replied.

Fred couldn't take it anymore; he wrapped his hand around my neck tightly and looked me in the eyes.

"Listen and listen good, I'm not signing any divorce papers tomorrow. I'll set them ablaze once I get my hands on them," he pushed me onto the ground. "Now, go cook dinner or face the consequences!"

I coughed as I gasped for air. "Fred, I'm done being a slave to you and your son! I'm not cooking any dinner," I managed to say.

He kicked me in the stomach. "Are you going to cook or not?"

I smiled weakly. "Over my dead body would I cook..."

"Have it your way, then!" he interrupted me. "Reuben, Felix!" he called his men.

Two of his men rushed forward and bowed before him.

"Drag her to the cold room and lock her up! Don't let her out until she's dead!" he ordered.

Without wasting time, the men rushed to me, grabbed my arms, and began dragging me away. Kelvin and Frieda snickered as I was being dragged away.

"Let me go! Let me go!" I struggled as I tried to get away from them, but who am I kidding? They are ten times stronger than me.

No matter how hard I fought against them, they wouldn't budge. I was thrown into the cold room, and before I could gain balance, they'd locked the door and left. It's just me, the cold room, and darkness.

It's only seconds, but it felt like I'd been here for days as my whole body began to shake from the intense cold.

I'm too weak to speak or beg for help. I simply slumped down against the door and waited for my death.

Just when I was about to give up hope, I heard a commotion outside. Desperate for someone to save me, I began banging on the door with all my might.

Soon, the door opened, and I saw a man in a well-tailored suit standing in front of the door. I was barely keeping my eyes open; hence, I didn't take in his appearance.

"I told you, Mr. Enzo, she's just a maid," I heard Fred say to the man.

I shook my head in disagreement since I couldn't speak, but the man wasn't looking my way anymore.

Just when he was about to leave, he paused, whipped his head back to me, and his eyes widened in shock.

"Genevieve?" he called my name softly.

I wanted to ask him how he knew my name, but it came out as a whimper.

His eyes suddenly darkened as he heard me whimper. "How dare you hurt my wife?!" he growled angrily.

Huh? His wife? When did we get married?