Every mistress knows the unspoken rule: never outshine the legitimate wife.

But the canary my husband kept in a gilded cage had forgotten her place. Not only did she flaunt the diamond ring that symbolized Mrs. Gilbert's position—she dared to attend the family banquet at the old estate.

Someone had warned the little bird not to overstep. She didn't care. She flashed the diamond under the chandelier lights, her voice carrying across the room.

"She's washed up. A withered flower from yesterday. Mr. Gilbert gave me the wedding ring."

"Titles don't matter. Whoever Mr. Gilbert dotes on is the real treasure. She's just a used rag—damaged goods no one else would touch."

My mother swayed, her face draining of color. I caught her arm before she could collapse.

"There's no true love in a marriage of convenience, Mother," I said quietly. "He lacks propriety, bringing a mistress to a family banquet. For that, he'll pay a heavy price."

"But the gossip..." she whispered.

"A few whispers are nothing compared to the Gilbert fortune." I met her eyes. "If their son is incompetent, then I, the dutiful daughter-in-law, will simply take the reins."

——

She searched my face for the naive girl who had worshipped Jesse Gilbert ten years ago. She found only ice.

Around us, the guests cast probing glances, hungry for a scene. They wanted screaming. Hair-pulling. A laughingstock.

I denied them the satisfaction. I turned away.

"Only what you hold in your hand is real," I told my mother. "Go to the back parlor and rest."

Seeing the absence of sorrow in my eyes, she finally exhaled. "As long as you have a plan. I believe in you."

When I turned back, Jesse Gilbert was approaching. Joanna Fox clung to his arm like a decorative parasite.

She extended her hand toward me, the enormous diamond catching the light.

"Hello, Miss Tessa Matthews."

The room fell silent. My maiden name—a calculated slap in the face.

This banquet, organized by Old Mr. Gilbert, was attended by every significant relative and business partner. Everyone here knew I was the rightful Mrs. Gilbert.

A mocking smile played on Jesse's lips as he looked past me to my mother.

"Mom, meet my new secretary. Bold, isn't she? No stage fright, no matter how big the occasion."

"Her nerve is impressive," he continued. "Daring to come to a place like this."

My mother's expression darkened. She hadn't expected Jesse to be this brazen—parading his mistress in front of his mother-in-law.

My blood ran cold. "Jesse. That's enough."

I could tolerate his disrespect toward me—I extracted tangible benefits from our arrangement. But I wouldn't let him humiliate my mother. She had treated him like her own son for a decade.

Jesse didn't care. He grinned, his eyes gleaming.

"I heard your husband had a penchant for secretaries too. Caused quite the scandal. Nearly divorced you over it." He paused. "But don't worry, Mom. I won't go that far. As long as Tessa stays obedient, she can keep the title of Mrs. Gilbert forever."

My father's infidelity was my mother's eternal wound—the shadow that had darkened my entire childhood.

Jesse knew this. He used it as a punchline.

The boy who once wept in my arms ten years ago is dead, I thought. The stranger before me shares his face, but none of his soul.

The disappointment cut colder than the betrayal.

Joanna stepped between me and my mother, blinking innocently.

"Just be obedient like a good little pug. Woof, woof."

Jesse patted the top of her head, his touch sickeningly tender. "Play nice, Joanna."

His attitude was on full display. The crowd's gaze shifted from curiosity to open contempt.

"Tessa Matthews is really clinging to the title. How stifling."

"What Mrs. Gilbert? Looks like she's about to be replaced."

"They were the golden couple back then. How things change."

Jesse's eyes locked onto the guest who had whispered "golden couple."

"A golden couple?" He scoffed. "She's just a worn-out shoe someone else broke in. Less of a 'golden girl' and more of a 'tainted woman,' wouldn't you say?"

His words hit the silence like water striking hot oil—an instant, violent reaction.

Even braced for his cruelty, the pain still pierced my chest.

"Nonsense!"

A thunderous roar cut through the room. Patrick Gilbert slammed his cane against the floor.

"Jesse Gilbert, is your brain addled with drink?"

One sentence, and he dismissed his grandson's cruelty as a drunkard's ramblings.

I didn't scream. Didn't demand justice. I simply lowered my eyes, withdrawing my gaze from the man who was supposed to be my husband.

The guests watched, whispering, until the banquet ended. That was when a ten-billion-dollar contract slid across the table.

"Today's incident is Jesse's fault," Patrick said, his voice gruff with guilt. "Treat this as compensation. Repayment for what the Gilbert family owes you from ten years ago."

Ten years ago.

The Gilbert family had been targeted by a corporate conspiracy, pushed to the brink of bankruptcy. I was the Matthews family's only daughter, an heiress, yet I chose to marry down—binding myself to Jesse Gilbert to save them.

But on our wedding night, I wasn't held in my husband's arms. I was kidnapped by his enemies.

For three days and nights, I disappeared. When I was returned, I was battered and broken, tossed onto the pavement of the city's busiest district like trash for the world to see.

I remembered how Jesse looked back then. He had knelt before me, slamming his forehead against the ground until blood ran down his face.

"I will avenge you," he swore. "I will wipe away this humiliation. My life is yours, Tessa. Everything I am belongs to you."

But promises are cheap. He couldn't die for me, and he certainly couldn't live for me.

After the incident, humiliating photos flooded the internet. At first, Jesse channeled his rage into business. He used the capital I provided to stage a miraculous comeback—reclaiming what the Gilberts had lost and surpassing it. He sent my captors to prison, scrubbed the photos from the web, and issued a gag order so strict that mentioning the kidnapping became social suicide.

But I don't know when the silence broke.

Rumors began circulating among the elite again. Some men even dared to joke in front of Jesse, asking if he enjoyed "wearing a second-hand shoe" or "damaged goods."

It was during that resurgence of malice that I discovered I was seven weeks pregnant.

I went to his study, eager to share the news, hoping this child would bridge the distance between us. But through the oak door, I heard his voice—cold and detached.

"Damaged goods or not, what business is it of yours?"

He didn't defend me. Didn't deny the slur. His tone only betrayed annoyance—not because they insulted his wife, but because they made him lose face.

That single sentence shattered me.

The stress was instantaneous. A cramp seized my abdomen, violent and absolute.

Later, the doctor shook his head. "Mrs. Gilbert, your uterus was severely damaged ten years ago. This pregnancy was a miracle. The emotional shock caused a sudden detachment... I'm afraid there will never be another chance."

I had seen the ultrasound. The fetus was tiny, no bigger than a peanut.

The child Jesse had waited ten years for was killed by his own indifference.

At that time, I still loved him. Loved him enough to drive myself into a nervous breakdown, terrified of one question: Did he still love me?

When my health collapsed, Jesse took me to the hospital. The attending physician was Joanna Fox.

The moment she saw him, her eyes widened in theatrical surprise.

"Jesse? Is that really you?"

Tears welled instantly. "I'm so sorry. I know my older brother committed those crimes. He's paid the price, but I still must apologize on his behalf."

I looked at Jesse, confused. The Fox family was responsible for my kidnapping. They were the reason for my nightmares.

But Jesse didn't recoil. He smiled—a warm, forgiving smile I hadn't seen directed at me in years.

"It's fine," he said softly. "That's all in the past. You were just a child ten years ago. You aren't responsible for Isaac's sins."

A cold dread settled in my stomach. Before I could speak, Jesse ushered me into the examination room.

The exam was clinical and cold. When I stepped out, I found Joanna speaking to Jesse, her brow furrowed in feigned concern.

"The endoscopic results are concerning," she said, her voice pitched perfectly—professional yet reluctant. "Your wife's uterine wall is dangerously thin. Extensive scarring consistent with frequent trauma. Judging by the damage... she must have had at least seven or eight abortions recently."

Jesse froze. The color drained from his face.

"Impossible," he whispered. "Every time... I used protection."

"Is it possible... that the man responsible for your wife's pregnancy wasn't you, Mr. Gilbert?"

The accusation hung in the sterile hospital air. My expression turned to ice as I faced Joanna. I demanded to know the basis for such a filthy claim.

Immediately, she shrank behind Jesse, eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I'm a doctor. I have no conflict of interest here. I'm simply interpreting your physical condition truthfully. Why would I need to frame you?"

My gaze dropped to the ID badge pinned to her white coat.

Joanna Fox.

The name hit like a physical blow. Memories of the nightmare from ten years ago surged back—the men who had kidnapped and destroyed me. Their leader was Isaac Fox.

Ten years ago, Isaac's sister would have been just a teenager, spared from the legal fallout. But Jesse had sworn to me—promised he had exiled every member of the Fox family so I would never have to face that trauma again.

So why was Joanna Fox standing here, in Harbor City Hospital?

I looked at Jesse, disbelief chilling my blood. I needed an explanation. More importantly, I needed to know if he actually believed her lies.

He didn't answer. Instead, a faint, condescending smile played on his lips as he pulled me into his arms.

"Alright, that's enough. Whether you've had one abortion or ten, you're still Mrs. Gilbert. That hasn't changed."

The dismissal cut sharper than any insult. Ignoring my frozen expression, Jesse steered me toward the exit.

"She's just a young girl, inexperienced and eager. It's no big deal if she misdiagnosed you. Don't make a scene."

Something inside me shattered. The love I'd harbored for Jesse turned to ash. The suffocating possessiveness I once felt evaporated into cold air.

"Fine," I said, voice hollow.

After that day, Jesse began parading Joanna at every major social event. He handed the entire medical equipment division to her.

When she lost hundreds of millions through sheer incompetence, he shrugged it off.

"A beauty's smile is worth a fortune. She's young and naive. Mistakes are part of the learning curve."

But I followed the paper trail. The funds hadn't vanished—they'd been funneled into offshore accounts controlled by the Fox family.

Joanna wasn't as simple as Jesse claimed.

I hadn't planned to engage with her. But now she was encroaching on my territory. Since we were both after money, I couldn't let her stay.

For the first time, I stepped in to clean up Jesse's mess, seizing control of the project Joanna had nearly destroyed.

Jesse seemed amused rather than surprised.

"It seems I spoiled you too much. This obedient version of you is much more pleasing."

He brushed his finger against my nose in mocking affection.

"I hope you stay this way. Even if you were harmed ten years ago because of me—you're damaged goods. Marrying you and tolerating you for a decade was already supreme charity."

Perhaps sensing he'd cut too deep, he produced a velvet box containing an aquamarine necklace.

"Here. Joanna's too young for such a heavy, old-fashioned color. It suits your age better—makes you look dignified."

I'd navigated business long enough to decode the subtext. He was calling me old. Saying I was only fit for cast-offs.

Yet I smiled and accepted the box. "As long as you're happy, Jesse."

The old Tessa would have wept for nights, agonizing over whether her youth had faded.

The new Tessa? Is this worth ten million? Or twenty?

The more distracted Jesse became with his games, the more muddleheaded he'd grow—and the more I could siphon away. Only a fool fights for a husband whose heart has strayed.

I didn't need Jesse Gilbert.

I needed the Gilbert Group.

Clutching the ten-billion-dollar contract Patrick had offered me, I knocked on the study door.

"Grandpa, since I married into the Gilbert family, I am a Gilbert now. I don't need this contract as compensation for the Matthews family."

Surprise sparked in his eyes. He hadn't expected me to refuse such a massive windfall.