To my shock, Mr. Duran barely glanced at Lydia and me.

Instead, he gave Peggy and her daughter a suck-up smile. "Mrs. Howe, Ms. Roche, what do you need?"

Peggy smirked at us, then played victim. "These two tramps tried sneaking into this neighborhood to seduce men. They're even pretending to be us. Teach them a lesson."

The guards moved in, sleeves rolling up, eyes vicious.

Lydia went pale with rage. "I'd love to see who dares touch us. We lived in this mansion for five years. Don't tell me you don't remember us. Think real hard before you put a hand on us."

Mr. Duran paused, but his tone stayed cold. "So what? We didn't know who you were before, so we were polite. You really thought that made you the owners?

"Everyone here knows Mr. and Mrs. Howe just had their wedding. She's his legal wife now. As for you—an old side chick—keep your head down.

"And you? Who knows what you are to Mr. Howe's son."

I stared at him. "What are you even saying? My mother-in-law is George Howe's legal wife. Watch your mouth. We'll sue."

My confidence made him hesitate. "Then... prove it."

I yanked the gemstone necklace off my neck and held it up. "This is the 'Heart of the Ocean.' You've all heard of it—one of a kind. My husband, Johnny Howe, bought it for me at auction last year. Isn't that proof I'm his wife?"

All eyes locked on it. Everyone knew about that auction. It made headlines.

They were starting to believe me—

Then Lily laughed and pulled out a necklace just like mine.

"Hers is fake. Mine's the real one. Johnny gave it to me as an engagement gift. Just like that necklace, she's a knockoff."

My chest went cold.

Her gemstone was bigger. Brighter. No contest.

Johnny gave me a fake.

He cheated.

No time to process. I glanced at the emerald bracelet on Lydia's wrist—George's heirloom. That had to prove it.

Before I could speak, Peggy raised her hand. An emerald bangle.

Same stone—just bigger, cleaner, richer. Next to it, Lydia's bracelet looked like it was cut from its scraps.

Lydia saw it. She ripped the bracelet off and slammed it to the ground. "Those two really played us. I'll make them pay!"

Peggy laughed. "Flashing fakes, trying to scam people. Good thing we've got the real ones. What are you waiting for? Teach them a lesson!"

The guards moved in.

They grabbed at us, rough, yanking at our clothes.

"You love wrecking homes so much? Strip. Let everyone see what you've got!"

Fabric ripped, skin exposed.

They laughed—loud, nasty. Our clothes were almost gone.

Lydia and I burned with humiliation and rage, scrambling to cover up, fighting back. Useless.

Then a voice cut through—

"Stop. Right now!"

My husband, Johnny, rushed over and stopped the guards.

The second I saw him, my eyes burned. "Johnny Howe! Say it—right here. Who's your mother? And who's your wife?!"

His reaction hit me cold. He hesitated. "Sienna, it's a misunderstanding. Let's go home. I'll explain."

Lydia stared at him. "Explain it now!"

Johnny stalled, and Peggy smirked.

Her daughter clung to his arm. "Johnny, tell them. What am I to you? And what's my mom to you?"

Johnny looked at her like she was everything—soft, helpless. He avoided our eyes. "Lily, once we're married, you'll be my wife. Your mom's family."

If Lily was going to be his wife... what was I?

Then he actually turned to Peggy, like it was the most natural thing. "Are you okay?"

The crowd locked it in—Lydia and I were the homewreckers. They started throwing whatever they could grab.

Only when we got hit did Johnny step in, pushing the guards and crowd back.

I snapped out of it, rushed to Lydia, helped her up, and fixed her torn clothes as best I could.

Lydia—always composed—was shaking with fury.

She stepped up and slapped Johnny hard. "You ungrateful jerk! You call her family—then what am I? Who gave birth to you? Who raised you?"

I stared him down, slow and clear. "You say Lily's your wife. Then what am I after all these years?"

Panic flickered across his face. He pulled us aside, voice low. "Mom, you're my mom. Sienna, you're my wife. Just listen—this is a misunderstanding. Lily is autistic and has delusions. She thinks we're already engaged. I said that to calm her down. It's better for her."

Lydia didn't buy it. "Why do you need to appease them? Why were our access records wiped? And the 'Heart of the Ocean' and that emerald bracelet—what are you and your father playing at?"

Johnny pressed his lips together. Guilt flickered in his eyes. "It's for Lily's condition. Don't argue with a patient. We have other houses. You and Sienna can stay somewhere else for now. Dad and I haven't betrayed this family."

None of it made sense.

Lydia's eyes went red. She stared at him like she didn't recognize the son she carried for ten months and raised with her own hands.

She bit her lip hard, fury blazing. Grabbing a phone off the ground, she dialed George.

"George, how dare you keep a side chick behind my back! Forgot what happens when you betray me?!"

George's voice came fast, tight with panic. "Honey, how could I betray you? I swore I'd only love you. I've never even looked at another woman. You misunderstood. I'm almost home—don't believe anyone. Let me explain in person!"

His steady tone seemed to calm Lydia.

Thirty years together... she was still willing to give him a chance.

Back then, he had nothing when he married her—a rich heiress. Their prenup was clear: cheat, and he walks with nothing.

He'd have to be insane to risk it all.

Our clothes were already ripped.

While we waited for George, we planned to change.

Johnny unlocked the doors. Peggy and Lily walked in first, like they owned the place.

The second I stepped inside, my chest dropped.

The living room was unrecognizable.

The pricey art Lydia bought at auction was gone, replaced with tacky gold décor. The sleek smart system? Ripped out. In its place—bulky, gold-trimmed furniture.

What used to feel clean and sharp now screamed cheap new money, like a mall jewelry store stuffed with glitter.

A vein throbbed at my temple. I didn't even need to look at Lydia.

Peggy stood off to the side, sneering. "This place had zero taste before. Plain, try-hard, like it was scared to look expensive. I fixed it. Now it actually looks rich."

That's when it clicked for Lydia—the renovation bill.

Her fists tightened. She held it in.

She headed upstairs to her room to change.

Peggy cut her off, pointing lazily at a maid's room in the corner. "Your stuff's in there. Just a pile of junk. Grab it and go."

The door swung open.

Our clothes were dumped on the floor like trash—covered in footprints, stained with who-knows-what.

Heat rushed to my face. I turned on Johnny. "What is this? You kicking your own mom and me out for them? I'm telling you, we're not divorced. She's just a side chick!"

Lily instantly threw herself into his arms, shaking. "Johnny, why is that tramp calling me a side chick? That hurts. I feel awful."

Johnny pulled her in and snapped at me, "Sienna Sterndale, it's just clothes. Buy new ones. Are you done? I already told you—this is for Lily's condition. Do you have zero compassion? Enough. You and Mom change, pack up, and go stay somewhere else."

Cold crept into my bones.

I met Lydia's eyes. The last bit of trust she had in George was cracking.

Without his approval, Johnny wouldn't have gone this far.

She looked at her son, done with him. "What if I don't leave? Let's see how you plan to throw your own mother out."

Johnny frowned, impatient. "Mom, be reasonable. Don't push me. You're always working, always traveling. It doesn't matter where you stay. Lily's different. She needs me—and Peggy."

Peggy lifted a brow at Lydia, smug. "Lydia Leighton, let's be clear. George already signed this house over to me. Be smart and get out, or I'll have you dragged out. Don't test me.

"And wow, that whole powerful career woman thing? Cute. No wonder George stopped seeing you as a woman.

"If you hadn't used the Leighton family to trap him, he would've ditched you and come back to me a long time ago."

Lydia's gaze went ice-cold. "Shut up. I want George to say that to my face."

She dialed him again.

The ringtone came from upstairs.

George stepped out of the study, slow, phone in hand.