Chapter 1

On my daughter’s birthday, I took the day off. I wanted to take her to the local theme park.

But she clung to her teddy bear, crying and refusing to step foot out the door.

I stroked her hair gently. "Why, baby? Didn’t you have so much fun when Daddy took you out last week?"

She kept her head down, whispering, "If we go, those strange ladies will crowd around me again... and some of them cry..."

I smiled. Kids. They don’t lie, but they sure have wild imaginations.

But the next second, the smile froze on my face.

"Daddy and the lady went into the room. They were in there for a really long time..."

I dropped to my knees, holding her small face in my hands. My voice shook.

"How many times did Daddy take you there?"

She held up two tiny fingers. "Mommy, why are you crying?"

I couldn’t answer. I just pulled her tight into my arms.

That monster. He would never get near her again.

I held my daughter, feeling her tiny body trembling slightly in my arms.

Her small hands gripped my collar so tightly, as if she were terrified I would vanish too.

I whispered in her ear, "It's okay, Lily. Mommy’s here. Mommy will always be here."

She didn’t say anything. She just buried her face in my shoulder, her little nose sniffing.

A thousand thoughts exploded in my head, each one carving into my heart like a hot knife.

Julian Davis, the man I had been married to for seven years, Lily’s father. He had actually taken our daughter to a place like that behind my back.

All those "trips to the theme park" and "daddy-daughter bonding times" were nothing but sick lies.

He actually took our three-year-old daughter to a brothel while he paid for sex!

I closed my eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath.

I couldn’t break down here. Lily was watching me.

I carried her back to the living room, set her down on the couch, and walked into the bathroom.

The moment the door shut, I collapsed against it. Only then did I let the tears fall.

After crying silently for a few seconds, I turned on the faucet and splashed freezing water onto my face.

The woman in the mirror had bloodshot eyes and trembling lips.

I wiped my face and walked back out.

Lily was curled up in the corner of the couch, hugging her teddy bear, her big eyes watching my every move.

I walked over, pulling her and her bear into my arms. I forced my voice to sound as steady as possible. "Lily, tell Mommy. How many times did Daddy take you to that place?"

She reached out one hand, hesitated, and then held up two fingers.

Twice.

That absolute piece of trash had taken her twice.

My hands shook as I held her. Not from fear, but from raw, burning rage.

A rage that made me want to tear Julian limb from limb.

But I couldn’t lose control in front of Lily. I had to endure it. I had to bide my time until the right moment.

"Lily, sweetie, want to go out with Mommy? Let’s go get some ice cream."

"Really?"

"Really."

I changed her clothes and put on a fresh outfit myself.

I needed to secure my daughter first. Then, it would be time to settle the score.

I took her to the biggest mall downtown.

I bought her strawberry ice cream and took her on the carousel.

She rode the wooden horse, her eyes curving into happy crescents as she laughed, as if the darkness from earlier had never happened.

A child’s world was so beautifully simple. She didn’t understand what those experiences meant. She only knew her mommy was with her now, and she was happy.

We played all afternoon. By the time we got home, she fell asleep after just one page of her bedtime story.

I tucked her in, kissed her forehead, and slipped out of the room.

The second I closed her door, the warmth on my face vanished.

The mirror in the hallway reflected my face—expressionless, eyes cold as ice.

I walked into the master bedroom and opened Julian’s closet.

Suits, shirts, ties, all hung in perfect, neat rows, ironed without a single wrinkle.

He had always cared about his image. He looked so polished, so respectable. Everyone on the outside thought he was a devoted husband and a wonderful father.

In our seven years of marriage, he had always maintained that gentle, sophisticated persona.

Our friends thought he was the ultimate catch, and even my mom kept telling me how lucky I was.

Ha.

I went into the study and opened his laptop.

I knew the password. It was Lily’s birthday.

The desktop was spotless, folders organized perfectly with work-related files.

I opened the browser history. Blank.

He cleared it every single time.

It was too clean. It wasn’t normal.

A normal person doesn’t wipe their browser history clean every day unless they have something dirty to hide.

I stood up, walked back to Lily’s room, and cracked the door open.

She was fast asleep, her face buried in the soft fur of her teddy bear.

I leaned against the doorframe, watching her for a long time.

She was only three years and eight months old.

The man she called "Daddy" had dragged her into that filth when she was so incredibly small.

I didn’t dare think about what she had seen or heard in those rooms.

Just the thought of it made me feel like an invisible hand was strangling me, cutting off my oxygen.

Julian came back the next morning.

I heard the lock click, and my body instinctively tensed up.