Chapter 1

When my stepsister was nine months pregnant, she caught her brother-in-law—my husband—cheating. To my shock, she was the one beaten so badly that the baby died in her womb, and even her uterus had to be removed.

Trying to save her, I went to confront him, only to have one of my legs broken in the process.

After she was discharged from the hospital, I took my stepsister home and gave her all the care and tenderness she deserved.

Later I even used my savings to buy her a house. My husband and I had a huge fight over it, and after that my stepsister was too afraid to come see me anymore.

Who could have guessed that on Thanksgiving night, while I laid out a whole table of food and wine waiting for my husband to come home, I received suggestive photos sent anonymously.

The people in the photos were my husband and my stepsister, tangled together in passion.

I stood there stunned for a long time, then went to the address the photos showed.

The moment I reached the door, I could hear the sounds of them enjoying themselves inside.

"Spencer, I'm pregnant—the baby's exactly three months along!"

My husband set down his bowl and pulled my stepsister onto his lap. "That's wonderful. Just remember to take good care of yourself during the pregnancy."

"Of course I will, but I'm afraid my sister will find out my secret—that my hysterectomy was fake."

"It's fine. When the time comes, we'll just tell her the baby's adopted."

"You know, we were actually the ones caught in the act back then. Good thing my sister never found out."

"And she even used her savings to buy me a house, so you and I could keep seeing each other in secret."

...

Section 1

Standing at the door, my ears stung from the truth that hit me out of nowhere.

Disbelief on my face, I nearly crumpled to the ground from the blow.

Luckily I threw out a hand and caught the wall, so I didn't end up looking even more pathetic.

The conversation inside kept going, but I didn't have the strength to make my feet move and step in—it was as if all the blood in my body had frozen.

I took out my key and slid it in gently, turned the knob, and left the door open a crack. Through that sliver, I lifted my eyes and looked in.

"Spencer, what would my sister do if she found out our secret?"

Amelia, in a tight dress, ran her hands all over Spencer's body, her voice low and seductive.

Nothing at all like the sweet, obedient little sister I always saw.

So it turned out she'd been acting in front of me the whole time, just to fool me.

"Don't get carried away—you're pregnant."

Spencer reached out and pinned down her restless hand, but Amelia quietly opened her mouth and bit his ear.

"I asked the doctor. He said it's fine after three months."

Little by little, Spencer sank under her spell.

His face flushed all at once—the heated flush of a man's desire.

"You little minx. So many tricks up your sleeve."

"Don't you ever stop to think—the man you've schemed so hard to seduce is your sister's husband?"

"I'm not related to her by blood, so there's no such thing as sister or not."

Spencer gave her thigh a slap. "Your sister got one of her legs broken by your ex-husband because of you—because she was saving you. What an ungrateful little snake."

Amelia held him tight, her soft body squirming restlessly in his arms.

"I never asked her to help me. She was just flattering herself."

"Now when I go shopping with her, she comes hobbling along on that limp and drags down my image."

"Don't say that about her. She really does dote on you, after all."

"Haha, right! Doted on me so much she didn't even notice I stole her man."

"If she'd believed my wife back then and run out to the balcony to catch them in the act, she'd have known the other man was you."

"So she deserves to be a plaything in our hands."

With that, the two of them couldn't wait to wrap around each other, as though they wanted to knead one another into their very bones.

I felt like I'd been slapped hard across the face—not just humiliated, but pitiful and absurd.

I took out my phone and called Spencer.

He never once refused my calls, so he picked up right away.

I stepped into the hallway before I asked him, "Honey, when are you coming home for our reunion dinner?"

"Sorry, sweetheart, I'm tied up having dinner with a client!"

"Don't wait up for me, get some sleep."

"I promise I'll make time for you tomorrow."

And with that, he hurriedly hung up.

Tears crashed to the floor. I stared at that door and couldn't come back to myself for a long time.

Only then did I understand—all those times I sat home waiting for him, when my calls got cut short in a hurry, it was because he was here with Amelia.