Calliope hadn't told her mom everything.

In her previous life, after losing both parents, she uncovered something chilling while sorting through their belongings-her dad, Jonathan Godfrey, had started quietly moving a huge chunk of assets overseas six months before he passed.

But how could she possibly explain that back then, buried beneath all the financial mess and missing funds, she'd traced the trail to an unexpected name: Rosemary Miller. Her mother's so-called best friend, the one she always spoke of with fondness, believing she'd died years ago from illness.

The worst part? Before she could dig any deeper, Angelina perished in a fire, and Jonathan died not long after in a so-called accident. Calliope never did figure out where all that money really went.

That's why now, before she pieced everything together, she had to throw up a red flag-make her mom start questioning things.

With that in mind, she looped her arm through Eleanor's and headed back to the Godfrey estate.

And the moment they stepped into the living room, what she saw made her stomach drop.

There was her dad, lounging way too comfortably on the main sofa, slightly leaning toward the side, smiling-a genuine, relaxed kind of smile she hadn't seen in ages.

But that smile wasn't for her or her mom. It was directed toward Lucien and Angelina, who were sitting right across from him.

Angelina wore a soft-toned dress, face pale with puffy eyes like she'd just cried her heart out. She looked shaken and helpless, leaning gently against Lucien's arm for support.

Lucien, meanwhile, had his arm resting behind her on the couch in a way that felt too protective for comfort. His gaze stayed locked on Jonathan, nodding along, as if every word held weight.

Then Angelina spoke up, her voice trembling: "Mr. Godfrey, it's all my fault. I'm the useless one who ended up coming between Calliope and Lucien... I don't blame anyone but myself."

Jonathan barely frowned, just a twitch at the brow. "Angelina, none of this is on you. You were only targeted because of work. As for Calliope-if she hadn't kept nagging Lucien with all those calls, he wouldn't have been so late, and you wouldn't have nearly gotten hurt. That whole broken engagement thing? She brought that on herself..."

"What the hell are you saying?"

Calliope felt her mom's hand squeeze hers tighter-fingernails nearly breaking the skin.

At Eleanor's sharp voice, the three in the room whipped their heads around.

Angelina instantly sat up straight like someone had slapped her. Her face lit up with guilt and panic as she stammered and stepped forward, voice thick with tears. "Mrs. Carmody, Calliope... you're home?"

She took another hesitant step forward, teardrops clinging to her lashes. "I'm so sorry! It's my fault-I didn't mean to ruin your dress fitting, Calliope."

When Calliope didn't answer, Angelina ramped it up, laying it on thick. "Yell at me! Slap me if you want! I shouldn't have called Lucien for help, I really didn't mean to cause so much trouble..."

She let her voice crack perfectly on cue, shoulders trembling like she was carrying the whole world's guilt.

And sure enough, Jonathan's face darkened in response.

"Calliope, what is wrong with you? You know how swamped Lucien is right now! We're smack in the middle of a critical project, everyone's watching our every move-and you decide to play dress-up now of all times? What's more important, your little wedding fantasy or this family's legacy?"

"If Lucien hadn't stopped by work and heard about the incident in time, Angelina could've been seriously hurt. But you? You're throwing a tantrum in a bridal shop? With that spoiled attitude of yours, do you really think you're fit to be anyone's wife? Honestly, Lucien ending the engagement was probably the smartest thing he did."

Every word hit Calliope like a slap. She stared at her father in disbelief, stunned that he could say these things without a hint of shame.

The man who once treated her like treasure was now trampling all over her dignity just to defend an outsider.

"Jonathan!" Eleanor couldn't take it anymore. She yanked her daughter behind her, shielding her. "Do you even hear yourself right now? It was Lucien who betrayed her, ditched our daughter for another woman right before the wedding! And you're not comforting Calliope, but joining sides with someone else to blame her? What kind of father are you supposed to be?!"

She stared at him, her voice shaking with disbelief and rage. "Are you out of your mind? What spell did that Angelina girl put on you? Enough to make you turn your back on your own daughter?"

"Oh, I'm the crazy one now?" Jonathan suddenly stood up from the couch. His tall frame cast a heavy, tense shadow in the brightly lit room. He didn't even glance at his daughter. All his fury was now aimed straight at Eleanor, like a storm about to break.

"Eleanor, think about it. Since you married into the Godfrey family, besides tending to flowers and hosting those trivial afternoon teas, what real contribution have you made to this household?"

"When Godfrey Group hit rough patches, who was the one holding it together? Me! I'm the one who carried that weight! And where were you? Other than telling me to 'take care of myself' and 'don't overwork,' did you actually lift a finger to help?"

Eleanor stared at him, wide-eyed, as if seeing a stranger for the first time.

Everything she thought was a part of their bond-those small caring words, the quiet efforts-now sounded worthless dripping from his mouth. All her hard work keeping the household and social circles running, dismissed like it meant absolutely nothing.

"How could you say that?" Her voice trembled, her tears threatening to fall, but she gritted her teeth, clinging to composure. "I gave birth to your child, raised her, ran this home, maintained-"

"That's enough!" Jonathan snapped, his tone filled with harsh annoyance. "Raised a child? Yeah, and look how she turned out! Selfish, thoughtless, no sense of propriety-couldn't even keep her fiancé! That's your masterpiece after twenty years?"

His eyes flicked toward Calliope, who stood frozen, fists clenched, face pale.

"Look at Angelina!" He pointed sharply at the woman beside him, who looked all worried and meek. "She's a girl too, but she knows how to behave, how to read the room! And you? All you ever did was spoil our daughter until she's completely out of control. What else do you even do?"

This wasn't just a fight anymore-it was a full-on character assassination.

He tossed away two decades of a wife and mother's effort like it was trash.

Eleanor swayed on her feet, about to collapse, but Calliope rushed over and gripped her firm.

"Jonathan..." Eleanor's voice was lower than a murmur, hollow and lifeless. "I've been your wife for twenty-three years. Is that how little I mean to you?"

Jonathan may have flinched seeing the emptiness in her eyes, but Angelina's quiet, needy expression only fueled his indignation. He scoffed and looked away. "You know exactly what you are. I've had it with your indecisiveness. What the Godfrey family needs is a woman who can take charge, not someone obsessed with tea parties and flower beds. I only put up with it because of Calliope. But now that Lucien's made the smarter choice, let me make one thing clear-"

He paused, eyes sweeping over everyone in the room before locking onto Eleanor, his voice cold and cutting like a final verdict.

"From now on, stay out of this family's decisions. And especially don't meddle in young people's relationships-it's none of your business. Just enjoy your status, your money, and stop embarrassing me and the Godfrey name."

Watching her mother, Eleanor, get humiliated to the point her face went pale, Calliope felt like something had clenched her heart in a death grip.

Without thinking, she stepped forward, grabbed her mother's icy arm, and protectively pulled her to stand behind her. Lifting her chin, her gaze locked onto Lucien-he looked calm, but she knew he was the one pulling all the strings.

"Lucien," she said, voice sharp as a blade, "does it feel good? Throwing away your fiancée who gave you seven years of her life, dragging her family's dignity through the mud, all just to play out your epic love story with Miss Miller? Real classy move."

Lucien felt a strange jolt under that cold stare-something uneasy stirred in him.

The Calliope standing in front of him was nothing like the sweet, dependent girl he used to know.

"Calliope! Hate me if you must, curse me all you want. But don't take it out on Angie. This... all of this was my choice. I messed up. If you need to blame someone, it should be me."

When she heard that, Calliope actually laughed-it was cold, sharp, and completely void of warmth. "Wow. You really think you're that important, huh? Honestly, I just feel gross. Gross that I was ever blind enough to think you were someone I could trust with my life. Let me be crystal clear-Lucien, even if none of this drama went down today, I wouldn't have gone through with that wedding anyway."

"What?" Lucien completely froze. The grief and guilt he'd carefully rehearsed were instantly wiped from his face, replaced by shock.

He had imagined her crying, yelling, maybe even losing it. But this? This calm, indifferent coldness? This wasn't part of the script.

An absurd, intrusive thought hit him like a truck.

Did Calliope... come back in time, too?

No way. That's ridiculous. And yet-if not, how else could she seem like a totally different person?

Lucien stared at her, searching her face, desperate for any sign that could explain this unrecognizable version of her.

Right then, Angelina, who had been hiding behind Lucien the entire time, finally stepped forward, like she'd barely mustered the courage.

Her eyes welled up with tears in an instant, her voice choked as she said, "Calliope... I'm so sorry. It's all my fault, I know. I get that you probably don't want to hear a word from me right now, but I really value the bond we had like sisters. I never wanted to hurt you... really."

She reached out a hand, trying to grab Calliope's, her posture pitiful and full of guilt.

But Calliope didn't even bat an eye-completely acting like Angelina didn't exist.

That kind of cold shoulder hurt more than any insult. Angelina's hand froze awkwardly mid-air as her face flushed and paled over and over.

"Calliope!" Jonathan finally snapped, his temper flaring again the moment he saw his beloved Angelina being ignored. "How could you be so rude?! She's apologizing to you out of kindness-you call this a proper attitude? Is this what I've taught you?!"

"That's enough, Jonathan!"

Eleanor moved immediately, stepping in front of her daughter protectively. Her back straightened, gaze sharp as a blade, locking directly onto her husband.

"My daughter doesn't need your discipline-especially not for the sake of someone who isn't even family. I've heard enough of your crap today. She doesn't belong here. Not in my home. Not around my daughter. Not while I'm still breathing."

Eleanor turned her eyes on Angelina, whose face had gone ghostly pale. Though her fingers trembled, they pointed firmly toward the door. "Angelina, our home's too small to accommodate someone like you. Out of respect for your mother's memory, I'm giving you a shred of dignity-leave. Now."

With that, she didn't even glance at Jonathan, whose face had gone completely dark. Instead, she called out in a commanding tone to the maids standing in the living room corner: "Dorothy! Lisa! Go pack Miss Miller's things. Show her the door!"

"Eleanor, don't you dare!" Jonathan yelled, trying to stop her.

Eleanor stared straight back, full of defiance. "I've been your wife for twenty-three years. Raised your child, kept this home, never once let you down or disrespected the Godfrey name. And what do I get today? This? You humiliate me and hurt our daughter. If we no longer matter to you, then I don't owe you any more loyalty or face."

When she finished, she never looked at Jonathan again. Her eyes stayed fixed on the staff, her voice snapping like a whip. "Dorothy, go now. And I dare anyone here to get in my way."

Dorothy bowed slightly. "Yes, Madam."

She led a few maids around Lucien and headed straight upstairs.

Lucien pointed at Eleanor, fuming. "You-you're being completely unreasonable!"

But in front of Eleanor, who was obviously pissed, his anger still lost a few notches.

He didn't dare push things too far with her.

Not long after, the maids came back down with an armful of fancy boxes and bags, dumping them right at Angelina's feet.

Eleanor pointed at the pile and snapped, "Take your stuff and get out!"

Angelina's eyes instantly welled with tears, and they started falling uncontrollably.

She looked like the typical pitiful heroine in a soap opera, as if the Godfreys were the villains bullying her for no reason.

Lucien immediately pulled her behind him.

"Mrs. Carmody, this is really unnecessary. If you don't like her, fine-I'll take her and go."

He paused, glancing at Calliope. "I owe you an apology for today. But I'm not changing my decision."

Then he tightened his hold on Angelina's hand. "If I've chosen someone, I won't let go."

He turned around, pulling Angelina along without looking back.

"This got out of hand..." Jonathan sighed, looking conflicted, and hurried after them.

"Lucien, Angelina, wait!"

Angelina stopped and turned around to Jonathan, her eyes still glistening. "Mr. Godfrey, I'm sorry I've caused so much trouble."

Jonathan's heart ached a little seeing her like that. "Don't say that. This isn't your fault."

He leaned in closer and spoke softly, "Angelina, don't forget our deal. Be at the company on Monday. The Technical Director position is still waiting for you."

Angelina nodded gently. "Okay, Mr. Godfrey. I won't forget. Thank you."

Just as Lucien and Angelina stepped out of the Godfrey mansion, another clatter came from behind them.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Those bags and boxes got tossed out again.

A few of the fancy boxes even popped open, and their contents spilled all over the place.

Angelina turned to look at the jewelry and accessories she'd cherished over the past six months, now strewn across the ground like they were trash. Her expression twisted with hurt and embarrassment.

Lucien gave the mess a quick glance, pulled her into his arms, and said in a low voice, "Forget it. Whatever you need from now on, I'll get it for you. We don't need any of that junk."