At the CEO’s birthday banquet, I accidentally wore the dress of his late wife. His ten-year-old son shoved me into the champagne tower in front of everyone. He stood there, watching indifferently as I struggled on the floor, blood streaming down my body. His expression mirrored his father’s, cold and emotionless. “Wearing my mom’s dress doesn’t make you her. “You’re just my dad’s secretary. I can have him fire you!” Cold champagne soaked me to the bone. I lay there weakly, staring at the child I’d raised for ten years. “Don’t bother. I’ll submit my resignation tomorrow.” Ten-year-old Nash Vincent’s eyes were icy, sharp enough to cut. I took the shawl handed to me by the maid and turned to go back to my room to change. The hem of my dress snagged on the table corner, ripping a long tear down the fabric. “You ruined it! That was my mom’s favorite dress!” The previously mocking Nash instantly transformed into a furious little lion. His eyes were burning with anger as he glared at me, hatred written all over his young face. I looked at him with a complex expression. “Nash, you’re lying.” Nash’s mother always preferred luxurious styles; she would never have liked such a simple, elegant dress. Caught in his lie, Nash looked guilty. He stomped and stormed off. I didn’t chase after him to comfort him as usual, letting him vent his anger. After the guests had left, I returned to my room alone. As I opened the door, a dead dog dangled in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. Bright red blood dripped to the floor, staining my shoes and soaking Snowball’s soft fur. I was stunned, and before I could recover, Nash’s shrill laughter exploded behind me. “Serves you right! You took my mom away, now I’ll make you feel the pain of losing what you love!” He made a face at me and ran off triumphantly. I stared at the shocking pool of blood on the floor, unable to speak for a long time. Years ago, I arrived in this city with nothing but a small suitcase. I was hired to work for the Vincent family. The Vincent Villa was vast, but it felt more like a gilded cage than a home. They stripped me of all my hobbies, leaving me with nothing but a demanding child and a spoiled little dog. It took me ten years to raise them. But losing them happened in an instant. After a sigh, I caught the familiar scent of fir. Looking up, Maddox Vincent stood quietly before me. Maddox and Nash were two sides of the same coin, equally arrogant and cold. He stood there with his arms slightly open, expecting me to change his clothes like always, while saying, “I heard about what happened today. “Stella, you were in the wrong first.” Seeing my lack of response, he frowned, clearly displeased. He glanced at the glaring blood on the floor, his tone softening slightly. “Nash is still young. Just let him have his way.” With a look from Maddox, someone immediately came to clean up the blood on the floor. The lights were dim, the shadows hazy. Snowball, who had once played around the table, seemed as if he had never existed. Just like me, who had cared for them day in and day out for ten years, yet never left even a trace in the hearts of them. After changing, Maddox sat on the sofa, gently tapping the table to signal me to pour coffee. I instinctively complied. As I approached, he pulled me into his arms. His fingertips gently brushed my cheek as he said in a low voice, “It’s your birthday tonight. Skip the pill. If you get pregnant, well, that’s your gift to me.” His warm breath on my neck sent a chill through my bones. Maddox had a strong appetite in that regard. In my first month at the Vincent Villa, I was found to be pregnant. Before I could even feel anything, I was handed an abortion pill and told to take it. “In this lifetime, I only love Sylvia, and I will only acknowledge Nash as my child. “If you had a child, you might develop other thoughts and wouldn’t be able to take good care of Nash.” After that, he would always watch me take the contraceptive pill. For ten years, without fail. Tonight, I was supposed to be grateful and give him what he wanted. But for the first time, I avoided his touch. “Mr. Vincent, our ten-year agreement is over. I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
Whatever warmth and hope I once had were long gone. Maddox snapped, “Nash is just a kid! “As his… nanny, it’s your job to raise him right. I haven’t held you accountable, yet you dare to throw a tantrum?” Nanny? I let out a dry laugh at that word. Years ago, Maddox fell head over heels for my friend, Sylvia Olsen. Despite his family’s disapproval, he married her anyway, and the Olsen family quickly climbed the social ladder thanks to him. They went from a nobody family in the middle of nowhere to high society almost overnight. After marriage, they were inseparable, deeply in love. But fate had other plans. Sylvia died giving birth. Fearing the loss of support, the Olsen family sent me, their adopted daughter, as a replacement. Maddox, deeply in love with Sylvia, refused to remarry but couldn’t bear to see young Nash left uncared for. So the two families made a ten-year arrangement: I would stay at the Vincent Villa as a so-called personal assistant. Though called a personal assistant, I had no formal employment contract or legal protection. My entire life was defined by a single piece of paper. Looking back, it was almost laughable. I raised Nash for ten years. Technically, I was still single. I collected my thoughts and calmly said, “I’m not throwing a tantrum. The agreement has expired. “Staying here without a defined role will only stir up gossip for you and Nash.” Maddox’s furrowed brow relaxed slightly. His gaze was probing, but his tone softened. “If you’d have a child for the Vincent family, I will include you and the child in the family registry, giving you the status you deserve…” “No, thank you.” No one would willingly lower themselves like that. In this life, I had suffered enough as an illegitimate child. How could I bear to let my child endure the same? I straightened my clothes and retrieved the company seal and documents related to the Vincent family’s assets from the bedroom. “I’ve already sorted out all the accounts. Sylvia’s people will take over my responsibilities. “Nash has grown up. He should be taught by professional tutors. I’m not qualified to teach him anymore.” Maddox waved his hand dismissively. The priceless property documents and the agreement were scattered on the floor like trash. He stepped on them without hesitation. “Stella, don’t push your luck. “Considering it’s your birthday, I’ll let it slide. “Stay in your room for the next few days and think about what you’ve done.” The heavy mahogany door closed, separating us into two worlds. I looked up at the sky, watching the faint glow drift away until it vanished. I couldn’t help but smile. It was a sky lantern, lit to celebrate my birthday and pray for blessings. But today wasn’t my birthday. It was the day Maddox first met Sylvia. The night before I was sent to the Vincent Villa, my adoptive mother came to me. She told me to memorize everything about Sylvia and imitate her every move. “Stella, you must impress him. Only then will you have a place in the Vincent family.” Her eyes burned with intensity, her tone leaving no room for doubt. As she predicted, Maddox, who cared little for anything, remembered my birthday. It was the one day of the year I looked forward to. Only on this day could I feel a hint of familial warmth, briefly held in his thoughts. But stolen things must eventually be returned. As I sighed, a sharp pain shot through my forehead. Nash stood on the wall, proudly holding a slingshot. “If you keep clinging to the Vincent Villa, one day it won’t be a stone hitting your head, but a bullet!” He was proud of his marksmanship. He completely forgot I was the one who taught him how to shoot and drive fast cars. Yet, ten years had passed. Maddox treated me as invisible, and Nash seemed eager for me to vanish immediately.
“It’s cold at night. Don’t catch a chill.” I gave him one last reminder before turning and heading back to my bedroom. The next morning, my adoptive mother showed up in a panic and blocked the doorway. Just like ten years ago, she dropped to her knees, begging. “Stella, Nash still needs you. “Your father and brother depend on Maddox’s support, and the Olsen kids rely on you too. You can’t just walk away on a whim.” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “You’ve said all that, but have you ever asked how I’ve been?” She was stunned. A car pulled up outside, cutting her off mid-sentence. A woman stepped in, all elegance and charm. As soon as she entered, Nash rushed over and threw himself into her arms. “Monica, I’ve missed you so much!” Hand in hand, they walked right past me without so much as a greeting. The scent of her perfume lingered as the housemaids started whispering, “Poor Ms. Spears spent years trying to win over Mr. Vincent and his kid, and now she’s not even worth a footnote in the family.” “Yesterday she was desperate to leave, and today she’s changed her mind,” someone sneered. “Probably panicked when Monica showed up, afraid of losing her position.” Nash lifted his little face, nuzzling into Monica Stewart’s arms, his voice sweet and syrupy. “Dad’s been waiting for you. Let’s go see him. “I like Monica best. You smell pretty and talk nicely, not like someone who always acts like a naggy hillbilly.” I stood there, frozen, feeling as if something had stabbed my heart. I grew up in the south, and when I first moved here, nothing felt familiar. The cold hit like a blade, and I got sick so often that I barely pulled through. The servants mocked me for being uncouth, refusing even to bring me medicine. Back then, only little Nash stayed by my side, whispering sweetly, “Stella, get better soon. You look so cool when you ride your bike.” That little boy who once never left my side had now become a sharp thorn, piercing my heart. This turn of events was something I never could have imagined. Monica smiled politely, every move calculated and graceful. But her words carried a subtle dig. “Don’t take what a kid says too seriously, Ms. Spears.” I ignored her and turned to help my adoptive mother up. “You see, Maddox and Nash are never short of people to care for them.” Monica was the second daughter of the Stewart Group. With her striking resemblance to Sylvia, she could freely enter the study I was barred from, effortlessly winning the hearts of both father and son. My adoptive mother stood up, her earlier sorrow gone, and coldly demanded. “Are you really leaving?” “I won’t waste my life stuck in this gilded cage, chasing after two men who couldn’t care less about me,” I said firmly. With a loud smack, she slapped me hard across the face. “You’re hopeless,” she scolded. “If I hadn’t taken you in, you’d have drowned in that river years ago! How can you be so heartless? You’re worse than the Olsen family’s dog.” As she raised her hand for another slap, I caught her wrist. “They raised me until I was eight. I gave them ten years in return. “We’re even now,” I said, staring into her eyes. For ten years, I endured Maddox’s cold indifference. In the Vincent Villa, I managed every detail. I treated Nash as my own son, giving him all my love and care. I had done my best, with a clear conscience. The only person I had failed was myself. My adoptive mother left in a rage, her persuasion unsuccessful. I turned around and met Maddox’s unfathomable gaze.
His expression was cold, like he was looking at a disobedient pet. He tossed a remark my way, casual and dismissive. “Stella, you’re smart. You know leaving the Vincent family means you’ll have nothing. “I’ve had someone find a prettier dog for you. I’ll send it over later.” He spoke casually, like he was doing me a favor, “If Nash gets too annoying, Monica can help you take care of him. I’ve already had the room prepared for her to stay here.” In Maddox’s script, I was supposed to be overwhelmed, then meticulously arranged everything for Monica, playing the role of the virtuous and dutiful wife. But I was truly tired of it all. “Let the butler handle it. I’m leaving.” Monica stepped out gracefully from behind Maddox, her voice soft. “You don’t seem too pleased. Maybe I should leave. “Ms. Spears is a noble lady. Someone like me, a divorced woman with a child, naturally wouldn’t meet your standards.” She hadn’t taken more than a few steps before Maddox stopped her. “Why belittle yourself? A woman’s happiness depends entirely on a man’s opinion,” he said, glancing at me before scooping Monica into his arms. Soon, the sound of their heavy breathing drifted from the study, leaving people flushed and embarrassed in broad daylight. Nash made a face at me. “I want Monica to be with Dad. She’s not like you, a vain and wicked woman.” I stared hard at the little brat I’d raised, wanting to hear what he’d say. “Is that really what you think?”
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