I slammed the bedroom door, the sharp bang startling them both, freezing the pair outside for just a moment. The silence that followed was short-lived.

With no other choice, I shoved in my earplugs, willing my mind to shut down as I fought for sleep.

The next morning, Aunt Nori stood frozen in the doorway, her gaze fixed on the near-destroyed sofa and carpet. The destruction was undeniable, but I’d already made up my mind.

"Throw them out," I instructed, my voice cold and decisive. "We don’t need a sofa or carpet in the living room anymore."

That night, I was woken once again by the sound of their shameless actions. I reached out beside me, but the space was empty; Vernon was gone.

It felt so familiar, like a nightmare on endless repeat.

I stepped out, already dreading what I might find. And there it was. The dining table is now their new stage. I couldn't believe my eyes.

This crossed a line.

Without a second thought, I hit pause on whatever twisted show they were putting on.

"Hey, big brother, big sister," I called out, my voice dripping with cold sarcasm. "Why not take it to the bedroom? If the guest rooms are too cramped, you can always use my master bedroom. I’ll sleep in the guest room from now on."

I didn’t wait for an answer. "This is where I eat. Could you at least show some basic decency?"

Maybe it was my sudden intrusion, but the moment I spoke, both of them lost their enthusiasm.

"Eloise, you just had a miscarriage, and now you won’t even let me help Vernon?" Riley snapped, frustration dripping from her every word. "Do you want him to hold it in until he breaks down?"

I bit back my anger and tried to explain, my voice quiet and steady. "I never said you couldn’t help him, but could you at least do it somewhere other than my house?"

Riley's eyes narrowed, and she put on her usual act, a sickly-sweet mask of concern. "Vernon only came back to care for you after your miscarriage, and this is how you repay him? No gratitude?"

"I appreciate his concern," I replied, "but I don’t need it. Now, please, leave. Immediately."

The slap came fast and hard; his hand cracked across my face, a sting that left me breathless.

"This is my house," Vernon said coldly, his voice unyielding. "I’ll stay as long as I want. You don’t get to decide."

I froze, the words sinking in. He was right. This was his house. What power did I have to oppose him?

Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked out, each step echoing with the weight of defeat.

At two in the morning, the late-autumn streets stood eerily still, the air thick with an unsettling silence. A bitter wind sliced through my lace nightgown, causing me to shiver uncontrollably.

I sank down onto the bench at the bus stop, my eyes following the dead leaves as they danced across the empty road. Tears started to fall without my permission, hot and endless.

No phone. No money. No place to go.

My body, still recovering from the miscarriage, was weak, and before long, dizziness swept over me. Darkness swallowed me whole.

When I woke, I was back at the Hamilton residence, the room warm and familiar yet distant. That same figure, so familiar and distant, was standing beside me.

"Sorry. I shouldn’t have hit you last night," Vernon said, his voice low, breaking the silence.

"I’ve already ordered new furniture for the living room."

"The Mason Group heiress is getting married the day after tomorrow. Come with me to the banquet."

"What about Riley?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"There will be plenty of business tycoons there. Riley’s my executive secretary, so she has to attend," Vernon replied matter-of-factly, his tone unemotional.

"Then I—" I hesitated, ready to refuse, but he interrupted me before I could finish.

"You are my wife. Your status is different. You must attend."

I had no choice but to agree.

At the wedding banquet, the three of us arrived together.

Riley, ever the attention-seeker, wore a gown far more extravagant than mine, practically glued to Vernon’s side.

I used to be the one standing next to him at events like this, but now, Riley had taken that place, and to everyone around us, she was the one who seemed to hold the title of Mrs. Hamilton.

"President Hamilton, long time no see. When will we have a chance to collaborate?" President Landers greeted Vernon with a smile.

"President Landers, good to see you. Let’s arrange a drink sometime," Vernon responded with the same polite smile.

"And this must be the famously beautiful Mrs. Hamilton?" The question hung in the air, a subtle sting in its words.

"When will we finally get to drink at your wedding banquet?"

A teasing glint flickered in Mr. Landers’ eyes as he cast a knowing glance at Riley.

"Mr. Landers, this is my secretary," Vernon corrected him, his expression unwavering. "My wife, Eloise, is right here."

Realizing his blunder, Mr. Landers’ face paled, and he quickly fumbled for an apology.

"Madam, you are as elegant as a lotus in full bloom. Vernon is truly fortunate."

After a few more pleasantries, he hurried away, leaving me alone with Riley.

"Sister, don’t take offense," Riley murmured, a smug smile tugging at her lips. "You haven’t attended public events in over a year. Naturally, people get confused."

"If you spent more time with Vernon, this wouldn’t happen again."

I had no patience for her veiled jabs. Ignoring her, I excused myself, my body still fragile from the miscarriage. Fatigue clung to me like a heavy shroud, and I needed a moment to rest.

I had barely closed my eyes when a strange presence stirred near me.

A sudden chill skittered down my spine.

I jolted awake, my breath catching as I found a man unbuttoning my dress.

Panic surged through me. Heart pounding, I shoved him away, my hands trembling as I yanked my collar back into place.

My voice, sharp with fury, sliced through the air.

"Who the hell are you? What do you think you’re doing?"

The man smirked, his gaze narrowing. "Aren’t you the one who signaled me to come?"

"I don’t even know you. Why the hell would I call you over?"

He didn’t seem deterred. "But you gave me a look and handed me this note."

The man pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, holding it out toward me.

"Even though you covered the lower half of your face with a handkerchief, I’m sure it was you."

My heart skipped a beat. I recognized the handwriting on the note; it was Riley’s.

Without hesitation, I snapped a photo of the note with my phone, my voice cold as ice.

"I’m Vernon’s wife. If you don’t want a lawsuit on your hands, I suggest you leave. Now."

There were too many people at the wedding banquet, and even the smallest whisper could turn into a roaring wildfire of rumors.

The man’s face drained of color, panic seeping into his features. Just as he moved to flee, the lounge door crashed open, and Vernon stormed inside.

Behind him, Riley spoke first, her voice laced with accusation.

“Sister, how could you be alone in a room with another man?"

Vernon’s anger flared instantly, his hand flying out to strike the man, sending him crashing to the floor. His eyes then turned on me, sharp and demanding.

"What the hell is going on?"

"I just came in to rest," I explained, trying to keep my voice steady, "When I woke up, this man was here, but nothing happened."

Riley wasn’t about to let it slide. "Sister, people saw him enter with you. Who’s going to believe you don’t know him?"

Her words stung, but before I could retort, Vernon’s attention shifted to the man, fury in his gaze.

"You! Speak!" Vernon commanded.

The man hesitated, his eyes flicking nervously to me before he spoke.

"She gave me this note and told me to come to this lounge."

"I didn’t write that note," I began, but Riley snatched the paper from my hand before I could finish.

"Sister, there’s no point denying it. Just admit your mistake and apologize to Vernon."

"What mistake have I made?" I snapped, but my voice was drowned out by the growing crowd outside the lounge door, drawn in by the commotion.

Vernon had always been obsessed with his reputation. Given the situation, he must’ve already convinced himself that I had betrayed him—and in front of everyone, no less.

"Come home with me."

Vernon grabbed my wrist, his grip like iron.

"Vernon, wake up! This hotel is lined with surveillance cameras. If you want the truth, just check the footage!"

"And if you had bothered to look at the note Riley took from me, you'd already know what's going on."

"The handwriting on it isn’t mine—it’s Riley’s!"

I could feel the frustration building, my words desperate as I tried to explain everything.

But just then, my phone died, and I couldn’t access the photo I’d just taken.

Riley, standing there with that smug smile, spoke up, her voice dripping with false innocence.

"Sister, I haven’t left Vernon’s side for even a second. Stop trying to slander me."

Riley wept pitifully, her delicate face streaked with tears. Her sobs echoed in the room as she trembled.

"If you don’t check, I will."

I wrenched my wrist from Vernon’s grasp and moved toward the surveillance footage, determined to uncover the truth.

Riley, eyes wide with panic, dashed forward to stop me.

I barely brushed her aside, and yet, she stumbled, throwing herself towards a nearby vase as if in slow motion. The vase crashed to the ground, shattering into a thousand jagged pieces.

For a moment, I stood frozen, unsure of what had just happened.

Riley cupped her face, her cries escalating into screams, claiming her face had been ruined.

Vernon’s rage ignited at the sight of blood trickling through her fingers, and he exploded in fury.

"How dare you hurt her face?!"

He rushed to Riley’s side like a man possessed, his hands frantic as they searched for her injuries.

"Riley, we’re going to the hospital right now!"

I knew how much her face meant to Vernon, but at that moment, all I could think was: Why should I be the one to bear the weight of this?

I no longer cared about proving my innocence. The only thing that mattered was escaping.

Ignoring Vernon’s accusations, I turned on my heel and stumbled out of the lounge.

Just as I thought I could breathe, Riley’s shrill shriek echoed behind me. She charged at me and, with a savage shove, sent me tumbling down the stairs.