Chapter 4

If I'd heard those words before, I'd have been devastated—though I'd never let it show.

Harrison was a master manipulator. I couldn't show any weakness, or he'd just pile on the pressure.

I remember clearly that it was a Sunday, because my family always had dinner together on Sundays.

The restaurant was already posted in the family group chat. My cousin was complaining that it clashed with her school reunion, and my uncle scolded her: "You're always the one with problems. Look at your cousin—she never misses a gathering."

My cousin grumbled in the chat: "Of course she never misses. Her husband's always all over other women. She's got nothing but time."

Ever since Harrison's scandals hit the headlines, I'd become fair game in that group. An orphan just seemed easier to pick on. In the end, it came down to me not being strong enough.

My aunt jumped in: "What are you saying? Your brother-in-law is busy with work and social obligations. He used to come to our family dinners all the time, didn't he?"

They were so ridiculous. They both feared Harrison and were constantly testing his attitude.

I could even imagine how they'd treat me after a divorce—like a lamb to be slaughtered.

To them, a grown woman's worth was limited and pitiable.

My cousin, still unsatisfied, said: "Fine, I'll book the room next to ours for my reunion. Dad pays."

My aunt immediately said: "Fine. If Dad won't, Mom will. Just don't be late. Grandma and Grandpa won't like it." She then tagged me: "Don't be late either. Your grandparents miss you. You haven't been home in a month."

I sent a "thumbs up" emoji and hid the group chat again.

There was too much hidden behind that fake warmth, and I didn't want to taste it all over again.

That evening, I arrived at the private room. My uncle, aunt, grandparents were already there.

They greeted me warmly, but every other word was about Harrison. Within five sentences, shares came up. A couple more, and it was about getting pregnant.

I was disgusted inside but kept up appearances: "He's busy. Working on a merger. No plans yet. Maybe after this phase is over."

After my parents died, my grandparents helped my uncle take most of the Whitmore family assets. I went from being the queen of the social circle to a dependent of my uncle's, watching the Whitmore name fade and the family decline.

Suddenly, cheers erupted from the room next door. My aunt smiled indulgently: "Emily's having her reunion with her friends in there. We'll call her over later."

Feeling stifled, I excused myself to the bathroom.

Passing by the next room, I heard a familiar voice—the girl Harrison had been seeing recently.

Her name was Olivia, and she was my cousin Emily's good friend.

I heard her say smugly: "You might not get him as your brother-in-law, but as my boyfriend, he comes whenever I call."

Her arrogance and confidence were a gift from Harrison.

When I came out of the restroom, Harrison had already arrived. The girls were practically screaming with excitement, cheering and celebrating, saying they'd interrogate him.

I was about to turn back to my room when I heard Emily ask him, "Brother-in-law, you're not really going to divorce my sister, are you?"

Harrison laughed: "Even if I wanted to, your sister wouldn't agree. She's so into me. She wrote me so many love letters. Would she really let go?"

I froze.

My cousin's smug voice cut through: "Then you'd better thank me for stealing her diary for you. Otherwise, how would you know all that?"