Chapter 2

A flash of guilt crossed Lucian's eyes: "Fine, I didn't mean to bring up your mom. Stop looking like you want to die."

"I'll buy you that limited edition cake later. Let's just move past this."

He ruffled my hair like he always did.

His expression natural, as if nothing had happened.

Seeing my gloomy expression, he smiled and coaxed me: "Claire, don't overthink it. You're the only one in my heart."

But seeing the strawberry-flavored ultra-thin condoms scattered on the floor, I couldn't deceive myself.

I used all my strength to shove him away.

His movements froze, his face instantly darkening: "All the men in our circle are like this."

"If you can't even handle this much, how will you be Mrs. Foster?"

For five years, I still hadn't emerged from the shadow of my mother being the other woman.

Originally, I didn't want this wedding at all. It was Lucian who persuaded me again and again.

He said it was time to move past old wounds.

But when the day finally came, he still betrayed me.

My heart throbbed with dull pain as tears streamed down against my will.

I closed my eyes, my voice exhausted: "Let's cancel the wedding. I can't accept a cheating man."

Lucian didn't expect me to say that.

His voice rose, tinged with impatience: "Claire, I just slept with someone else once. Is that worth making such a big deal?"

"Besides, back when your mom jumped, the scandal was all over the city. Her reputation was already ruined."

"Without me, you're the daughter of a mistress. Who else do you think would want you?"

I stared at this familiar yet strange man before me.

My vision gradually blurred as my thoughts were instantly pulled back five years.

Back then, my father had deceived my mother with a fake marriage certificate.

Afterward, he came out to clarify, but instead made my mother get slandered online as a mistress.

She was fired from her teaching job. Day and night, people threw red paint at our door.

My grandparents fell ill from the stress and both passed away.

When I was on the verge of suicide, it was Lucian who held me tight.

"Your mother lived with integrity. She's absolutely not the kind of person they say she is!"

Back then, he seized the knife from my hand, eyes red as he said: "Claire, you're so young. Why should you trade your life for a scumbag?"

"If you want to die, I'll die with you!"

His comfort gradually helped me let go of my hatred for my father.

But in just five years, he casually told me he had cheated.

Lucian's voice pulled me back from my pain: "Claire, you can't blame me entirely for this."

"You're the one who set the rule—only once a year, and you have to disinfect everything first."

"The Foster family has a huge legacy. I need an heir."

"I haven't abandoned you all these years. That's already more than generous."

With that, he reached out again, wanting to pull me into his arms to comfort me: "Besides, I already told you—the position of Mrs. Foster will always be yours. Stop throwing tantrums."

Instead, I bent down and picked up the kitchen knife, screaming at him: "Lucian, don't touch me!"

"You disgust me! You're so filthy it makes me sick!"

Suddenly, the door was pushed open.

A refined woman walked in, carrying two boxes of ultra-thin condoms.

Lucian immediately released me and rushed forward to wrap his arm around her waist.

His tone intimate and familiar: "Nina, did you buy everything?"

"Still can't break that habit of liking strawberry flavor."

Watching the two of them so natural and intimate.

I stood there stunned, too pained to make a sound.

After a long while, I finally found my voice and asked tremulously: "Who is this bitch?"

Lucian's eyes were frivolous, his tone careless: "This is Nina Sutton, the daughter of the woman your father had an affair with."

"Don't blame your dad. Nina inherited her mom's sex appeal. She serves me very well."