Four years out of prison, I got a call to the principal’s office about my daughter getting into a fight. That’s where I ran into my ex-husband. When I rushed in, he was leaning over the kindergarten principal’s desk, an aura of entitlement radiating off him like heat from a bonfire. “I invested in this school to ensure my daughter is protected, not to let others bully her.” He paused, his voice dropping to a dangerous register. “I heard Sloane’s parent did time. Why would you admit a child like that? Aren’t you afraid I’ll shut this place down?” I knew he was fighting for Sierra’s daughter. What he didn’t know was that the little girl currently sobbing herself sick was his own. Watching Sloane, her small eyes red and swollen, her body wracked with little tremors, I couldn’t stand to listen to another word. I walked straight into the office. Our eyes met, and a flash of pure disorientation crossed Preston North’s face. “Gigi? You were released early? Did you… come back for me?” I shook my head, then nodded. “I’m the child’s mother, Mr. North. You can take whatever frustration you have out on me.” The air thickened instantly. He looked utterly flummoxed, his voice catching in his throat. “You… you married and had a child? Is this some kind of revenge?” I froze. There had been no love for him left for a decade, and surprisingly, no hate either. How could it be revenge? 1 My three-year-old saw me and ran, burying her face into my waist. “Mommy, that girl called me a mongrel, so I pushed her.” My right hand wasn’t strong enough. It was a struggle to lift her, but I finally managed to cradle the still-sobbing Sloane. I murmured a few reassurances, then looked back at the man still frozen in shock. “Mr. North, if you are concerned that my past will negatively impact your—your associate’s daughter, I will promptly withdraw Sloane from the school.” My heart ached for the injustice my daughter faced, but I had no desire to fight Preston on a battlefield where the outcome was foregone. Sierra and her daughter were his unshakeable priority; no matter the truth, in his eyes, we would always be in the wrong. Logic was useless here. Preston’s gaze remained glued to us. He opened his mouth several times, trying to speak. It was only when his eyes met my utterly detached expression that his composure returned. He finally spoke, his voice surprisingly quiet. “It’s… just a small squabble between kids. It’s not serious enough for a withdrawal.” He cleared his throat. “Besides, your daughter admitted Skylar started it.” His immediate concession surprised me. It was like he wasn’t the same man who’d been threatening the principal two minutes ago. “Since Mr. North isn’t pursuing this, I’ll take my daughter and leave.” I gave the principal a brief nod and led Sloane out. The knot of tension in my chest loosened a fraction. Thank God Sloane takes after my mother’s side of the family. He suspected nothing. I called a ride-share. Before the car arrived, Preston hurried after us and grabbed my arm. “Gigi, when were you released? Why didn’t you come to me? Did you really marry someone else?” Before I could answer his barrage of questions, his eyes flickered to Sloane’s small, fearful face, and he asked the question that made my blood run cold. “Is this child mine?” My whole body went rigid. I yanked my arm away, my expression ice-cold and distant. “Your imagination is impressive, Mr. North. The year you personally sent me to prison, you never once touched me. How could I possibly be carrying your child?” He seemed to recall that unbearable year, his lips trembling almost imperceptibly. “I’m sorry. What happened back then, I…” He was interrupted by a familiar, overly sweet voice. “Oh, Gigi. You’re really out?” Sierra approached. She saw Sloane and her face immediately shifted, a practiced look of shock and pity sliding into place. “Gigi, if you need money, you know you can always come to Preston or me. We would help.” She raised her eyebrows slightly, managing to look both concerned and superior. “How could you do this to yourself? Taking money to be a stepmother for some other man’s child?” My fingers twitched. Her air of looking down on me, of inventing a convenient excuse for Preston, was nothing like the single mother who had once knelt and begged me for a scrap of kindness and work. She had recognized me the moment Sloane was admitted. Of course she had. Why else would her five-year-old daughter wander into Sloane’s class just to bully her? Hearing Sierra’s loaded statement, a sliver of guilt flashed in Preston’s eyes. “Gigi, you don’t have to self-destruct. Even if you made mistakes back then, I’ll help you through any difficulty.” He took a step toward me. “Just divorce him. I can take care of you. Actually, Sierra and I are…” The memory of weeping, begging him to believe me, only for him to coldly hand me over to the authorities, was a shard of glass in my memory. I cut him off. “Mr. North, we are long past having anything to do with one another. Save the pretty words for your associate.” I didn’t look at his suddenly pale face again. I took Sloane’s hand and stepped into the approaching car. From the moment he started systematically destroying my life, I stopped believing him. Back home, Sloane was still anxious. She held my hand tightly and whispered, “Mommy, that man was scary. Is he going to come and catch me?” I tensed, then bent down to comfort her. “Sloane, don’t be scared. He’s not a bad man.” The first version of Preston North hadn’t been a bad man. He was, in fact, a deeply righteous lawyer. It was only after he met Sierra that he reserved his most brutal side for me. Preston and I came from similar backgrounds; our mothers both died young. The difference was that my father genuinely loved my mother, while his mother was beaten to death by his father. Preston was home the day his mother was killed. He watched her die in his arms. The fifteen-year-old boy had desperately begged his father to call for an ambulance, but his drunken father only beat Preston until his face was a bloody mess. By the time my father and I rushed over, Preston was barely conscious. After he was saved, Preston became obsessed with sending his father to the electric chair, infuriating the rest of the North family, who disowned him. His mother was dead, and the killer walked free, protected by the sanctity of marriage. It became Preston’s obsession, the driving force behind his choice to become a lawyer. My heart ached for the boy with nowhere to go, so I brought him home. My dad didn’t object and had the butler prepare the sunniest room for him. I put down my sketchbook and spent every day talking to him until the light returned to his eyes. I remember when he was eighteen, he ran home with his law school acceptance letter and swept me into a hug. “Gigi, I got in! Will you be my girlfriend?” I was happier than he was, tears of laughter streaming down my face. “Yes.” That day, he was so happy he forgot all his worries. He promised my father, right in front of him: “Sir, I’ll take care of Gigi from now on. You can finally relax and go fishing.” My father beamed. Not only did he trust me to Preston, but he even let Preston start managing the family business. Even in his younger years, consumed by his heavy, unresolved past, Preston reserved all his tenderness for me. Even after he became a top-tier divorce lawyer, he would personally make me herbal tea when I had cramps. He even put all his assets in my name. It was a love so intense, but when he took it back, he was just as ruthless. Preston’s real breakthrough came when he successfully sent his abusive father to prison. After that, countless women struggling in bad marriages flocked to his firm. Sierra was one of them. When she knelt before us, still breastfeeding, covered in bruises and holding her month-old baby, both Preston and I were stunned. Before I could speak, Preston helped Sierra and the baby up, his face set in a furious mask. He promised, “I’ll take your case pro bono. I guarantee that scum will be punished.” Preston’s fees were easily in the millions. I was surprised but kept quiet. I knew he was driven by a deep need to prevent Sierra from becoming his mother, and her baby from becoming him—a child who lost his mother too soon. But I never imagined that their path to salvation would be the one that violently kicked me into hell. After Preston won her case, Sierra didn’t leave. Instead, she knocked on our door again. “Gigi, I don’t have a job and I have a child to raise. Could you teach me how to be a designer?” I hesitated, but Preston made the decision for me instantly. “Sierra has a foundation in art. She’ll learn quickly. Just let her stay. You love kids, Gigi. Skylar can keep you company.” Sierra added, her face streaming with tears. “Gigi, I truly want a skill. Please help me.” Something felt off, but as she wept and pleaded so humbly, my heart softened. I not only taught her to sketch design concepts but also brought out my treasured raw gemstones to teach her how to identify them. Seeing her diligence, I asked her to design a piece on her own. Then, she got careless. In a flash, my workspace was engulfed in flames. I was shouting for help while desperately trying to extinguish the fire. “Gigi! Gigi!” Preston rushed in. But when he saw Sierra standing near the back, crying for help, he violently knocked over the heavy supply cabinet next to me, sending it crashing down. I had no time to move. The cabinet slammed onto my right wrist and hand. The blinding, agonizing pain made the world go black. Before I lost consciousness, I saw Preston rush past me, holding Sierra and running out. He didn’t spare me a single glance. I woke up in the hospital to the devastating news that due to the delay in treatment, my right hand would never regain its full function. It was the end of my career as a designer. I broke. I grabbed a glass and hurled it at Preston. “Why did you knock over the cabinet? I’m your wife! Why didn’t you save me first?” His expression was full of shame, but he remained still, letting me vent. Finally, Sierra knelt on the floor and cried, “Gigi, please blame me. I’m pregnant with Preston’s child. He couldn’t bear to see me hurt, that’s why he saved me first.” The atmosphere hung in a thick, impossible silence. I stared, thinking I had misheard. I looked at Preston. Finally, his voice came out hoarse. “Sierra is pregnant.” That’s when I finally understood. While fighting for Sierra, he had fallen for a woman who mirrored his mother’s suffering. When both of us were in danger, he was willing to let me be ruined to be her protector. My damaged hand and his betrayal made me paranoid and sensitive. Preston and I started fighting over the smallest things. Every argument ended the same way, with him looking disgusted and saying: “You’re a complete lunatic. Can’t you be gentle, just like Sierra?” Then he would slam the door and disappear for the night. The only time he returned drunk, he forced himself on me despite my resistance. But when he woke up, he acted as if the night never happened, his attitude returning to cold indifference. He pushed me to the brink of insanity. I was diagnosed with severe depression. Even that wasn’t enough for Sierra. She waited for the day my father returned from his trip and rushed over. In front of my father, she tearfully begged me to release Preston. “Gigi, you have everything. Please stop forcing Preston. He wants to start a new family with me. He wants to be a father. Please, let us be happy.” Her vicious scene sent my father—who had been excitedly waiting to play chess with Preston—into an immediate, paralyzing brain hemorrhage. The memory of my father made the tears flow uncontrollably. Sloane’s worried voice reached my ears. “Mommy, why are you crying?” I stroked her head. “Mommy just misses your grandfather.” Just as I spoke, my phone rang. No name, but I recognized Preston’s number instantly. I hung up without hesitation. A moment later, a text came through. [Your father’s personal effects are still with me. Should I bring them over?] My hands shook. It took me a long time to reply: [I will come and pick them up myself.] My chest felt heavy. After cooking for Sloane and tucking her in, I finally fell asleep. But the scarred memories flooded in like a tidal wave. After my father was rushed to the hospital, he survived, but with severe post-stroke paralysis. He couldn’t move and could barely speak. With red, swollen eyes, I sat by his bedside. He gripped my hand tightly. “Di… vorce. Le… ave him.” I understood. Not every man is faithful to his wife. He couldn’t bear to watch me destroy myself for Preston. After a night of sleepless agonizing, I took the divorce papers to Preston. He sat at his desk, signing a contract, not even looking up. His tone was dismissive and clinical. “I will not divorce you.” He sealed the contract with a stamp. “I’m a divorce lawyer. If I can’t manage my own marriage, how can clients trust me?” He didn’t love me, but he wouldn’t let me go. I snapped. I went into a blinding rage. I smashed everything in his office. It was a wreck, and he just watched me, cold and aloof. When I finally collapsed on the floor, weeping uncontrollably, his expression only softened into pure contempt. “Look at you. You have no dignity left as the wife of Preston North.” My heart ached with fury. He had driven me insane, and then he blamed me for losing my composure. He let me stew until I quieted, then drove me home. He placed me gently on the bed, a fleeting, complicated emotion in his eyes, before his voice hardened again. “Your emotions are unstable. I’ll handle everything regarding your father. You will stay home. Don’t go anywhere.” For the next week, I was a zombie at home. Sierra, however, couldn’t wait. She showed up, heavily pregnant, to gloat. “I have to hand it to you, Gigi.” She tilted her head smugly. “Preston stopped your father’s medication. Your dad stopped breathing, and you’re still here sunbathing?” “What did you say?” I stared at her, horrified. Afraid I wouldn’t believe her, she pulled out a video on her phone. My father lay on the hospital bed, his eyes closed, utterly lifeless. Panic flared. I lunged at Sierra. “What did I ever do to you? Why are you trying to kill my father?” But before I could even touch her, she deliberately slammed her hip into the corner of the heavy wooden table. Blood immediately started to run down her legs. The next second, Preston burst in. Seeing Sierra on the floor, her face contorted in pain, he hauled off and slapped me. “You’ve completely lost your mind! If this child doesn’t make it, I will never forgive you!” The sharp sting of the slap brought me back to reality, yet I was already too far gone. “Preston North, I didn’t touch her, but you and she killed my father! I’d rather die today than let you two get away with this!” I grabbed a fruit knife to stab him, but he threw me down hard. “The nurse just reported your father’s vitals! He was fine! How could he be dead?” I looked back at Sierra and saw a flash of cold malice in her eyes. I’d been set up. But it was too late. Sierra lost the baby. That very night, Preston had me arrested. “I didn’t touch her! You can check the monitor on the balcony!” I clutched his sleeve, pleading. He didn’t listen. Instead, he used all his connections to rapidly secure a conviction against me. When I insisted on an appeal, he casually presented a plea agreement. “Gigi, the entire Harrington Group is under my control. If you don’t plead guilty, your father’s medical bills won’t be covered.” The pain was suffocating. I never imagined that the man who had tears in his eyes putting a ring on my finger, saying he finally married the girl he loved, would use such a vicious means to send me to prison. In despair, I signed the plea. When he slid the divorce papers over, I numbly signed those too. “You caused Sierra to lose her child. I have to compensate her.” A month after my incarceration, Preston finally came to see me. He brought only more devastating news. “Your father, hearing that you were in jail, passed away right there. If you hadn’t been so recklessly hysterical, he wouldn’t have died.” He paused, looking down at me. “Behave yourself. When you get out, I’ll be here to pick you up.” There was no hysteria this time. My world had collapsed into ruins. There was nothing left to hold onto. The shock left my mind fractured and foggy. When I was lucid, I wanted to end it all. I wanted to smash my head against the wall. But the guard saved me. When I awoke, she told me I was three months pregnant. A frantic knocking on the door startled Sloane and me awake. My daughter hid under the covers, trembling. I calmed her down, then got out of bed to open the door. It was Preston North. The moment he saw me, he cut straight to the chase. “Did you really get married?” “Of course.” “Then what is this?” I looked at the documents he held out. As I saw the content, my body went instantly rigid.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “387603”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel