From a Shadow Designer to a Legend

"Dad, when is that awful woman leaving? I don't want to call her Mom anymore. I want my real mom."

Those were the words from the son I had raised for five years.

Clutching my first-place trophy from the Paris International Jewelry Design Competition, I stood at the entrance of my own living room, watching my husband embrace another woman.

"Once she finishes all your designs for next season and helps you truly establish yourself in New York, I'll send her away."

He kissed the woman's fingertips.

"Seraphina is nothing more than a useful tool. A free nanny."