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After twenty years of marriage, my life suddenly collapsed into a living hell.

As it turned out, the twins I had poured my heart and soul into raising weren’t mine at all. They were the boy and girl my husband had with my best friend. Even our marriage certificate had been forged!

Everything unraveled when our son, still in high school, was kidnapped. I risked my life to save him, and when I rushed to donate blood, the doctors told me we weren’t a match.

That’s when Sharice Truitt, my best friend, arrived in a panic and stepped in to donate her blood instead. I was so desperate to save my son I didn’t have time to question anything. I stayed by his bedside for two sleepless days and nights until exhaustion dragged me into a deep sleep.

Then, somewhere between waking and dreaming, I heard voices outside the hospital room door—voices that shattered my world completely.

“Lucky she’s stupid. Nearly twenty years and she never figured it out. Both of you are type A, and the kids are type B. She didn’t even realize your marriage certificate was forged.”

“Exactly. If she hadn’t been dumb enough to raise our kids and take care of the house all these years, how would I have had the time to focus on making money and taking you on trips around the world?”

It was them—Sharice and Rufus Ralston, my husband. Their voices sliced through the air like poisoned blades, destroying every last illusion I had clung to for two decades.

What I thought was happiness turned out to be a carefully constructed lie. My sacrifices were nothing more than stepping stones for their perfect little family of four!

Of course I confronted them in a rage. But instead of remorse, they had the nerve to demand I leave the house with nothing!

And when I looked into the eyes of the husband I had loved and the children I had raised, what stared back was the same brutal indifference. That was the moment I felt my heart die.

Eventually, I left behind the place that had devoured every ounce of my youth and love.

Years later, I adopted a pair of twins from an orphanage. I raised them with all the love I had left.

The boy grew up to become the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. The girl blossomed into a beloved Hollywood star.

But just when I thought the past was behind me, out of nowhere, my so-called son appeared.

Radnor found me sweeping the garden of an estate, and he stared at me with scorn etched across his face.

“If my fiancée hadn’t insisted on inviting you to our engagement party, I wouldn’t have come to get you,” he sneered. “You’re an embarrassment to the Ralstons!”

Then, lifting his chin with pride, he continued, “After you left, Aunt Sharice—no, my mother—officially married Dad. Now I’ve inherited the Raltrex Prime, and my sister’s a top influencer with millions of fans.”

“Look at you,” he drawled, his gaze flicking dismissively to the broom in my hands. “Since leaving Dad, all you’ve amounted to is a lowly maid. You must regret everything now, don’t you?”

I didn’t get mad. I just smiled and said, “Sure, I’ll be there.”

Little did he know—just days later, the entire Ralstons would be on their knees, begging me to come back!

1.

Avalon’s POV

Over a decade had passed. My once-blonde hair had faded into gray.

Radnor, now a grown man in a tailored designer suit, stood before me. He had shed his youthful features, and with a face eerily similar to his father’s, he looked down on me like a king expecting my remorse.

Instead, I simply looked at him and nodded.

“Raltrex Prime’s done reasonably well over the years,” I remarked lightly. After all, they were now a partner under the company of my adopted son Zion.

Still, not everyone could be a prodigy like Zion.

Perhaps it was my indifference—my lack of humiliation or sorrow—that unsettled Radnor. I noticed a flicker of displeasure cross his face.

Yet the moment passed, and his gaze shifted to the villa behind me, then to my plain, dust-colored blouse. The corners of his mouth curled with contempt.

“My fiancée’s parents have seats in Congress,” he said smugly. “Don’t embarrass me at the engagement party next weekend. Try not to dress so… poorly.”

He clearly thought I was the maid. My blouse, though expensive, was understated—easily mistaken by someone who never looked past the surface.

As if to help, he casually tossed an old dress at my feet.

“This belonged to Mommy Sharice. It’s such a nice dress. Secondhand, sure—but more than enough for someone like you.”

As he flung it forward, his fingers brushed my neck, catching on my necklace—an authentic string of pearls worth millions.

The black pearls scattered across the floor, bouncing and rolling away like fallen memories.

For a brief second, surprise flashed in his eyes—perhaps he recognized the real value—but it quickly gave way to mockery.

“Seriously? You thought you could pass off some cheap imitation as real pearls? What a pathetic act.”

He stepped back with mock generosity. “But don’t worry. Since you raised me and Shawna for fifteen years, when you’re old, we’ll make sure to pay you some kind of support.”

Then his voice turned cold. “But let’s be clear: in our eyes, we have only one mom. And that’s Sharice.”

I studied the young man before me. The contempt in his expression was exactly the same as it had been all those years ago.

I remembered that moment vividly—when he was fifteen, lying in a hospital bed, just waking from a coma.

He had grabbed my hand, his grip like iron, and shoved me off the chair beside him.

“I won’t let you ruin Dad and Aunt Sharice’s happiness!” he’d said, glaring. “They were meant to be together. If you hadn’t drugged him and stolen him away, we wouldn’t have had to sneak around like this for all these years!”

The commotion had drawn Sharice into the room. There was unmistakable triumph in her eyes.

From Radnor’s push, I hit the floor head-first. Blood began to drip steadily from my scalp, staining the floor in vivid red.

And yet, no one cared. Without question, they tore off their masks, sided with Sharice, and turned on me.

Then, Radnor burst into tears. “When I was kidnapped,” he said bitterly, “I heard the kidnappers themselves say… It was my real mother who planned it!”

I stared at him in horror. “You’re lying…”

But he clenched his fists, grief and rage written all over his face. “I’m not lying! You’re the liar! You just wanted to frame Aunt Sharice!”

Sharice wrapped her arms around him, dabbing at his tears with practiced tenderness.

“Avalon, you can slander me all you want—but to kidnap your own son just to win Rufus’s sympathy? How could you be so cruel to a child?”

Rufus stood nearby, his face dark with rage. I could see the rage boiling just beneath the surface.

“Avalon,” he said through gritted teeth, “are you even human?! You raised Radnor yourself! How could you do something so wicked?”

I looked at the man defending Sharice and felt nothing but despair.

Yes, I had raised their children. But they were never truly mine. As for my own biological children… I didn’t even know where they were.

When Shawna heard the news, she rushed into the room. Her eyes were red, her voice shrill with fury.

“Get out of our house! We don’t have a mother like you! Sharice is our only mom!”

The two children I had once held so dearly—protected like glass, cherished like sugar on my tongue—had become the very sharp blades in someone else’s grip, stabbing into my heart and leaving it bleeding.

Looking into their eyes, I no longer saw anything that resembled a parent-child bond. All I felt was utter disillusionment.

I stood up from the floor, wiped the blood from my brow, and smiled coldly.

“Don’t worry. I’ll give you what you want,” I said coldly. “I’ll pack my things and leave right away.”

2.

Avalon’s POV

As Radnor climbed into the car and drove off without looking back, I casually tossed the so-called “gift” he’d left behind—that hand-me-down dress from Sharice—straight into the trash bin.

Then, I made two phone calls.

“Do you have time next week? Come with Mom to an engagement party.”

The twins agreed without hesitation. My heart softened with warmth. Zion and Zeniah were smart, thoughtful, and driven—so filial to me. Ever since I adopted them, my life had been full and content.

A few days later, as promised, I attended the grand engagement party.

The moment I stepped into the lavish lobby of the five-star hotel, I spotted the Ralston twins—Radnor and Shawna—alongside their father’s beloved woman: my ex-best friend Sharice.

She was now over sixty, yet still wore her blonde hair elegantly styled. Dressed in a champagne-colored evening gown with a silk shawl draped gracefully over her shoulders, she stood at the entrance, beaming warmly as she welcomed the guests.

When she saw me, her lips curled into a smug smile as she walked over.

“Avalon, after all these years, you finally decided to come see Rufus and the children again,” she said sweetly, linking her arm with mine. Then she deliberately raised her voice, just enough to catch the attention of those nearby. “I heard from Radnor that you’re working as a maid in someone else’s home? Oh dear. If you ever need money, you could’ve just come to us.”

All at once, curious guests turned their heads to look. Their gazes were layered with mockery and thinly veiled disdain.

Rufus had always kept up appearances and never publicly admitted that Radnor and Shawna were actually Sharice’s children. To those attending the event, I was nothing more than a woman who had once kidnapped her own son and, for years, completely neglected the children.

I knew Sharice was trying to humiliate me, so I kept my mouth shut.

Just then, Radnor, who had been standing nearby, noticed I wasn’t wearing the used dress he’d given me. His face darkened in displeasure. He strode over to Sharice and theatrically pulled out a pearl necklace.

“Mom, I picked this out for you during my business trip. Look—aren’t the pearls beautiful?”

Sharice looked delighted. “Oh, honey, you’re so thoughtful! This necklace is gorgeous. It must’ve cost a fortune?”

With a showy smile, she turned and let Radnor clasp it around her neck, deliberately showing off in front of me. Her smugness practically overflowed from her eyes.

“Well, the family company is doing well. You’ve sacrificed so much for us all these years. Now it’s my turn to repay you,” Radnor replied dutifully.

Watching this picture of motherly love and filial devotion unfold before me, I gave a cold, silent smile. He certainly was a devoted son—just not to me.

Suddenly, a voice called out from the entrance, “Avalon, how have you been these years? You’ve lost so much weight.”

It was an elderly man in his late eighties—Bowden, Rufus’s father, my former father-in-law.

His eyes held a flicker of guilt as he looked at me. And he should feel guilty. When I met Rufus, their family business was on the verge of collapse.

It was me who poured every last cent of my savings into rescuing the Raltrex Prime.

It was me who endured humiliation and sat through endless drinking sessions with clients—until my stomach bled and I was hospitalized—just to secure the deal that saved their business.

Once the company stabilized, I quietly withdrew from the spotlight and took on the role of the dutiful housewife, managing everything behind the scenes.

But what did all that sacrifice amount to?

They lived comfortably off my labor and money—money that was used to send Sharice to study at an Ivy League school.

Sharice, poised and cultured, looked every bit the refined lady of the house. And me? I was just a rough, unfashionable woman who wasn’t presentable enough.

Even when Rufus attended social functions, he always brought her along.

The truth was, I was the one who helped resurrect the Raltrex Prime, the one who raised the children, the one who gave everything.

And yet I didn’t know: on the night of our wedding, my husband had already crawled into my best friend’s bed.

The day the affair was exposed, even Bowden—who had always treated me the kindest—stood on her side.

“Avalon,” he said, his voice full of shallow justification, “Sharice is the mother of the children. She’s family. She’s educated, gracious—she’d make a wonderful matriarch for the Ralstons.”

Radnor stood there, sizing me up with cold detachment.

“Exactly, Mom. In families like ours, appearances are everything.”

Shawna nodded in agreement. “Besides, you’re not our real mom anyway. Dad supported you for twenty years. What more do you want?”

It was only then that I realized, ‘The whole family has known about Rufus and Sharice for years. I’m the only one kept in the dark.’

Rufus didn’t bother pretending anymore. He draped his arm around Sharice’s waist with intimate ease.

“Sharice has worked so hard to earn a name for herself in the entertainment industry,” he said. “You can’t ruin her future just because you’re selfish, right?”

The way the two of them leaned into each other, so cozy and blatant, made my eyes burn with unshed tears.

Bowden looked away, his tone evasive. “Just let Sharice take your place as Rufus’s wife.”

Each word, each phrase, struck like a knife straight to the heart.

In the end, without a legal proof of marriage to protect me, I was cast out of that home with nothing to my name.

3.

Avalon’s POV

Rufus once told me that he had given our biological children to a wealthy older couple. He said they were doing well now, and he didn’t want me disturbing their lives.

I searched for a long time but never found a trace of them.

None of his family ever knew that, before my parents passed, they left me more than just money. I also inherited real estate worth tens of millions.

I sold the properties, built a small house in the countryside, and spent my days tending to flowers and vegetables, living a very leisurely life.

The twins believed I had kidnapped Radnor just to maintain being the matriarch of the Ralstons. From that moment on, they refused to acknowledge me as their mother, branding me as a cruel and manipulative woman.

But they didn’t know—after that, I adopted a pair of orphaned twins.

Back then, the girl was gravely ill and couldn’t afford treatment. Her brother had been working on a construction site to earn money for her but fell and broke his leg.

When they were at their lowest, clinging to life in a slum, I happened to pass by. I couldn’t bear to walk away. I rushed them to the hospital and paid for the best treatment.

When I saw the faint light return to their dull, lifeless eyes, it felt as if I were seeing my own children—those I had never met.

My heart softened on the spot. I completed the adoption papers and gave them names: Zion and Zeniah.

Over the years, I watched them grow up, and they stayed by my side as I grew old.

“Why don’t you just stay this time?” Bowden said gently, snapping me out of my thoughts. There was a trace of tenderness in his eyes. “Quit that maid job of yours. You don’t have to keep struggling outside anymore.”

“She was the one who had me kidnapped back then!” Radnor snapped from the side, scoffing with clear disapproval.

“Dad said it clearly,” he went on, voice cold. “As long as she admitted her mistake, he’d let the past go and let her stay. But she wouldn’t even say a single ‘sorry.’ Now she’s suffering out there, and suddenly she regrets everything?”

I had already explained it all—again and again. I didn’t do anything. In fact, I had nearly fallen off a cliff trying to rush over and save him. If a passing local hadn’t pulled me up, I would’ve died down there.

But it wasn’t just Radnor who didn’t believe me. Rufus and Shawna had also lashed out in anger, accusing me of being a monster.

In their eyes, I was toxic and cruel. Only Sharice—sweet, soft-spoken, and oh-so-perfect—could ever connect with them. She was their confidante, their ideal of the kind and graceful mother.

I looked at Radnor standing before me and thought of everything I’d once done for him. A bitter smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

When he was little, he was always sick. I stayed by his bedside day and night, nursing him back to health, cleaning up after him, feeding him—raising him and his sister with my own two hands.

But the older he got, the colder he became. He only had eyes for Sharice, who spoiled him without limits.

Back then, I thought he simply didn’t like being disciplined. What I didn’t realize was that he had already known the truth all along—that Sharice was their biological mother.

And me? In their hearts, I was just a nanny—one they could call or dismiss at will.

Before I could respond, the hotel manager suddenly walked over and announced that tonight’s engagement party had been upgraded to VIP service—it’s on the house.

“This is a premium, VIP-level treatment. The Ralstons really must have some powerful connections!”

Gasps and whispers filled the room as the guests looked around in awe.

Tucker Thornton, the manager, gave the overjoyed Radnor a look—polite but indifferent.

“The owner made it clear—tonight’s upgrade is all in honor of the groom’s mother. It’s a special gesture. We hope you all have a wonderful evening.”

Instantly, all eyes turned to Sharice, especially Radnor, who looked at her with nothing but admiration.

“Mom, your connections are amazing! When did you get to know the hotel’s owner?” he asked in awe.

Sharice quickly wiped the confusion from her face and gave a modest smile, pressing her lips together and signaling him to keep it low-key.

I watched Radnor shower her with adoration, and all I could do was laugh to myself.

Tucker gave me an awkward glance and looked like he wanted to explain something. I subtly signaled for him to let it be.

The hotel had been a birthday gift from Zion and Zeniah—a present for my sixtieth birthday last year. I hardly ever visited, leaving the entire place in the manager’s care.

Just then, Shawna walked in, arm-in-arm with Rufus. The father and daughter were chatting and laughing as they entered.

Shawna had grown into a stunning beauty. As for Rufus, even in his sixties, he remained tall and elegant, every inch the charming gentleman.

The moment he saw me, he froze for a second.

“Grandpa! Mom!” Shawna called out sweetly as she flung herself into Bowden’s arms. But the moment her gaze landed on me, her smile stiffened. Then, disgust flashed across her face.

“What is that bitch doing here?!”