Chapter 1

For five years, I was Sebastian Croft’s mistress. Then, I finally got the promotion.

The woman who once screamed herself hoarse, calling me a shameless homewrecker, signed the divorce papers with the stillness of a stagnant pond.

Before she left, she asked me a single, weightless question: "Do you believe in karma?"

I laughed.

If karma was real, I wouldn’t be sitting here, about to become the next Mrs. Croft. She had no one to blame but herself. She’d let herself become a bitter, washed-up housewife, incapable of holding on to her man.

Once I had the title, I never slacked. I was relentless with my fitness, my skincare, my regular beauty appointments. Seven years into our marriage, Sebastian was still completely captivated by me. Even the two children she’d left behind, Aaron and Anna, now clung to me, their birth mother a distant memory.

I always believed that karma was just a curse whispered by losers on their way out.

Until today.

From the leather of Sebastian's belt, I found it. A single strand of bubblegum-pink hair, curled and caught near the buckle.

1

Sebastian always loved my long, straight black hair.

Back when we were first together, whenever he was stressed, he would bury his face in it. The faint scent was enough to calm him. He despised what he called "tacky, artificial" hair colors. So, from the moment I was with him, I babied my hair, never daring to dye or perm it. For twelve years, it remained a flawless sheet of black silk.

But this strand of hair—a pale, chemical pink—was tangled right where his belt would press against his waist.

I could almost picture the position that put it there.

"What's wrong? You've been standing out on the balcony forever."

His voice was a low murmur behind me. "It's windy. You'll catch a cold."

He wrapped his arms around me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder in that familiar, possessive way. Then he saw the hair pinched between my fingers. Sebastian froze for a fraction of a second.

The next moment, his long, elegant fingers deftly flicked the pink strand away. It fluttered to the ground, disappearing into the dusk.

"Let's go back inside. It's cold."

He acted as if nothing had happened.

I remained still, waiting. The silence stretched, but no explanation came.

"Don't you have anything you want to say to me?" I finally asked.

Sebastian paused, seemingly surprised I would press the issue. He studied me for a long moment, his tone still infuriatingly casual.

"Must have gotten caught on me during a dinner meeting."

"Accidentally?"

This wasn't the first time. I'd smelled perfume on his collar that wasn't mine. I'd found a tube of hot pink lipstick wedged in the passenger seat. I knew the kind of world Sebastian moved in; there were always women trying to claw their way up. But their attempts were usually so pathetic, so low-class. Sebastian was above that.

But now, the evidence was right in front of me, impossible to ignore.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "It seems so easy for trash to get close to you."

"Tsk."

The word "trash" seemed to strike a nerve. He looked down at me, a faint, mocking glint in his eyes.

"What's the matter? Don't forget where you came from."

2

I froze, the words hitting me like a physical slap. My face burned.

I looked up at him in disbelief, but all I saw was his cool, condescending gaze.

In the beginning, we had fallen together.

But now, it seemed I was the only one who came out covered in mud.

"Victoria, don't make a scene."

Sebastian leaned in, his breath warm against my ear, but his words were ice.

"Isn't it enough to just be Mrs. Croft?"

He let me go and walked away without a backward glance.

On the table, the candles on our seventh-anniversary cake still flickered. He'd been on a business trip overseas; we hadn't seen each other in two weeks. I'd begged for days, and he’d finally postponed a major project to come home for me.

A gust of wind swept across the balcony, making the flames dance wildly, threatening to extinguish them.

My phone buzzed. It was a message from the private investigator I’d hired a few days ago.

Mr. Davies:[Ruby. 23 years old.]

[Hired at H Corp three years ago, no interview. Position: Executive Secretary.]

[Ms. Vance, H Corp is a subsidiary of Croft Industries.]

[Current residence is in the villas over in Eastwood. Phone number xxxxx.]

My finger dialed the number before I even consciously decided to.

A cheerful, upbeat ringtone filled the silence.

I stopped breathing. It was a matching version of Sebastian's own ringtone.

When we first started dating, I had begged him to use a matching one with me. He indulged my every other whim, but on that, he refused.

His reason: "Darling, this number is for business, too."

He’d bought me a closet full of limited-edition bags to make up for it.

Now, a sweet, feminine voice sang through the phone, over and over. A burning jealousy seared its way up my throat. My fingertips trembled as the call connected.

I said nothing. Neither did she.

After a few seconds of silence, a soft laugh came from the other end.

Ruby’s voice was confident, as if she'd been expecting this all along. "Well? Finally couldn't take it anymore?"

That tone, those words. They were so familiar.

Eight years ago, when his ex-wife, Eleanor, had found me for the first time, she’d stormed in, screaming, and slapped me across the face.

I had looked at her, then, and smiled. "Losing your composure, Mrs. Croft?"

"This look on your face… it's truly ugly."

"No wonder Sebastian wouldn't even show me a picture of you."

Eleanor had shaken with rage, the loose skin on her face and body trembling with her.

Remembering that twisted, aging face, I glanced down at my own reflection in the dark screen of my phone. My skin was still firm, meticulously maintained. Even in my late thirties, I was flawless.

I took a deep breath, my voice steady. "So you were waiting for me? Then let's talk."

Ruby had clearly wanted to provoke me. My calmness seemed to bore her. "Fine by me."

See, Eleanor? There's a difference between one Mrs. Croft and another. Even when faced with the same betrayal, I, Victoria Vance, can handle it so much better than you ever could.

3

Unlike Eleanor, who had come at me like a cornered animal, all rage and reckless words, destroying the last shred of pity Sebastian had for her, I came prepared.

I had a spa treatment beforehand. I wore the latest haute couture dress. I chose the location: a quiet, atmospheric café.

The PI's file was thorough. Ruby's life was an open book. She'd latched onto Sebastian when he gave a lecture at her university. She was aggressive. Poor family, a father with a gambling problem who’d done time. She’d had a rebellious phase in high school, running with a bad crowd.

Even more low-class than I imagined.

But even with all that information, when her face appeared across the table from me, I was stunned.

She was an eight-point ringer for Eleanor. She even had the same faint beauty mark under her eye.

In my mind, I saw the knowing looks from the guests at my wedding. I heard Sebastian's friends, who used to privately call me "Little Eleanor." After the wedding, I had consciously dressed in a style completely opposite to hers, desperate to escape that shadow.

But this girl… she looked more like Eleanor than I ever had.

A wave of absurdity washed over me. It couldn't be.

Ruby crossed her arms and waved away the waiter. "Just a glass of warm milk, please."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "Cat got your tongue? You're the one who wanted to talk."

She wasn't even wearing makeup. Her face was bare, her skin glowing under a simple, loose-fitting cotton sundress. Even her pink hair, a color that should have looked garish and washed-out without a full face of cosmetics, looked effortlessly chic on her.

I glanced at my own reflection in the window, at the face that required a full application of makeup to look this perfect. My fingers tightened on my clutch. I pushed the prepared credit card across the table.

"There's five million on this. It's enough—"

Enough for her to lift her entire family out of the gutter.

Ruby laughed. "Are you kidding me, Grandma? Is that what you give to beggars?"

"Do you have any idea how much Sebastian gives me a month?"

For seven years, Sebastian had kept me in a gilded cage. "All you need to do is be happy and be Mrs. Croft," he’d once said. I rarely got involved in his business, aside from major galas. I knew nothing of the company's finances or assets.

I fought to keep my composure, ignoring the taunt in her eyes. "How long do you think a relationship like yours can last? Ambition is fine, but in this situation, it might not be a good thing."

Ruby burst out laughing. She laughed so hard tears came to her eyes, looking at me as if I were a clown.

"Oh, that's rich… hahaha."

"Victoria, have you forgotten how you became Mrs. Croft in the first place?"

After a moment, she straightened up, her hand gently resting on her stomach. "And besides… I'm not like you."

4

No makeup. The dark roots of her hair showing. The glass of milk.

And under the loose cotton dress, a barely perceptible swell.

My head spun. No… it’s not possible.

Seven years ago, in my first month as the new Mrs. Croft, I had gotten pregnant.

When I joyfully told Sebastian, he had looked at my stomach, his expression gentle, but his voice was absolute. "Darling, I don't want to hurt Aaron and Anna."

"They've already lost their mother. I don't want them to have another reason to hate me."

Aaron and Anna. His twins with Eleanor. Divorcing her, he felt his only failure was to his children. He didn't want another child with me.

After the chemical abortion, as I lay in the hospital bed, Sebastian had promised me, "Aaron and Anna are your children now. Our children."

For seven years, I had honored that promise. I never dared to dream of having a child of my own.

And now, Ruby was pregnant.

Her sharp laughter was like a poison-tipped needle, stabbing into my heart. The pain was so intense I could barely sit upright.

The next thing I knew, the warm milk had been thrown all over her.

"Victoria! How dare you!" she shrieked.

I looked down at my trembling hand, the empty glass rolling off the table and shattering on the floor.

"Get in here! Slap her!"

The door to our private room burst open. A large, imposing man stepped inside. When his eyes met mine, he flinched.

It was Alex, Sebastian's personal bodyguard. He had been assigned to me when we first got together. He'd been reassigned four years into our marriage, right around the time Sebastian met Ruby.

Four years…

The pieces clicked into place, forming a tight, painful knot in my mind.

"What are you waiting for? Hit her!" Ruby screamed.

The bodyguard hesitated. "Maybe… we should inform Mr. Croft first…"

"Alex, are you disobeying me now?" Ruby sneered. "What did Sebastian tell you when he assigned you to me?"

I looked up at Alex. He was Sebastian's most trusted man, with him for over a decade. He knew Sebastian better than I did. What Sebastian valued, Alex valued.

His hesitation gave me a sliver of insane hope.

I grabbed my purse and stood, my head held high, ready to walk out. But a hand blocked my path.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Croft."

A stinging slap sent me reeling to the floor, my cheek burning. The world went blurry, the sounds around me distorted. I clutched my face, trying to clear my head.

Then, Ruby's phone rang. A familiar, gentle voice filled the room.

"Why aren't you at home? Where did you run off to now?"

"Oww," Ruby whined, her voice thick with fake tears. "It hurts."

Sebastian, who was supposed to be in another country for the rest of the week, appeared in less than half an hour.

He meticulously checked Ruby from head to toe, ensuring she wasn't burned. Only then did his expensive leather shoes turn towards me.

"You promised me," I whispered, looking at his face, searching for a trace of guilt. "You said you wouldn't have any more children."

Sebastian looked down at me, his eyes cold, as if observing an insect.

"I told you," he said, his voice a soft, terrifying echo of his once-tender tone, "to behave."

"Victoria, if you can't control yourself… I'll have to send you to a hospital."