Chapter 2

My hands were shaking, but no matter how awful I felt, I didn't cry.

My lawyer messaged me back.

"I'll need seven business days."

Seven days. In the lab, seven days could change the course of a breakthrough. Now, every second dragged.

I studied my bleached hands, my strained eyes, the tinnitus that never quite left. All that striving, all that giving-it all felt like a joke now. And I was the punchline.

I suddenly remembered ten years ago, when his company was just starting.

He couldn't afford to buy patents, couldn't produce medicines, and he was so anxious his hair was turning gray.

I buried myself in the lab day and night, ensuring he had drugs to produce, which ultimately led to the pharmaceutical empire he had today.

He told me I was the most precious gift heaven had given him!

It made me laugh bitterly now.

Later that night, I went to the lab and terminated all the ongoing projects for his company.

Looking at the empty lab, I felt a mix of emotions.

My phone buzzed with a provocative message from Tiffany.

The photo showed her and Marcus, half-naked in bed, Marcus sound asleep.

"Mrs. Thorne, I'm 'taking care' of your husband again."

"Marcus told me you're okay with us being together. So, how about that year-end bonus?"

"After all, taking care of him is really hard work. Marcus was so insatiable. We went at it three times tonight."

My blood boiled, but I used another phone to record the video and save it as evidence, sending it straight to my lawyer.

My silence, in Tiffany's eyes, was cowardice.

Then, my son, Leo, suddenly came down with a fever and was hospitalized.

When I rushed to the hospital, Tiffany was opening a steaming bowl of mushroom soup. She was telling Leo, "Good boy, Leo, eat a little, even if you don't have an appetite. You'll get better faster."

Marcus stood nearby, hands casually in his pockets, his gaze, full of doting affection, shifting from Tiffany to Leo.

"See, your mommy loves you so much."

My heart felt like it was being twisted.

We weren't even divorced, and he was letting our son call another woman "Mommy."

"Yeah, Mommy loves me the most!"

Leo's joyful voice was a fatal blow, piercing my very soul.

My blood ran cold. Hearing my son call Tiffany "Mommy" with my own ears stole the air from my lungs.

Tiffany saw me. Her eyes flashed with defiance, then she put on a saccharine sweet smile.

"Eleanor. You're here. Why don't you feed Leo?"

Leo didn't spare me a glance. He whined to Tiffany, "Tiffany, I want you to feed me! I like it when you feed me."

He then looked at me, a hint of disdain in his voice.

"His mom just knows experiments; she doesn't know how to take care of anyone. Dad and I both like you."

My face hardened. I stared at Leo.

"What did you just call her?"

Tiffany, feigning understanding, provoked me.

"Eleanor, don't be so hard on Leo. He's just a six-year-old."