Chapter 2

My in-laws' 70th Birthday Gala took over the entire rooftop penthouse of the most expensive hotel in Boston.

I wore the champagne gown Julian had demanded.

But the spot next to him—the spot that belonged to his wife—was occupied by Chloe.

She walked in wearing the exact white designer gown I had liked but refrained from buying. All eyes in the ballroom immediately locked onto her.

"Julian, sorry I'm late," she purred, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

Julian leaned down and kissed her cheek. "You're just in time. The star of the night always arrives last."

My in-laws frowned slightly but said nothing.

Several of Julian's cousins and uncles exchanged smirks, their eyes filled with mockery and amusement.

I was seated at the very end of the long banquet table, next to some distant relatives who barely knew my name.

Halfway through the dinner, Chloe walked over to me, holding a glass. Her voice was loud enough for the entire table to hear.

"Mrs. Vance, could you get me some warm water? I'm not feeling very well."

The entire table fell silent.

Julian was cutting his steak, his head never once lifting.

I set my wine glass down. "The waiters are right behind you, Miss Miller."

Her smile stiffened for a fraction of a second before she recovered. "But I really want you to get it for me."

I replied calmly, "If you want it that badly, you can ask your boyfriend to get it for you."

A few suppressed giggles erupted from the nearby seats.

Chloe's eyes immediately welled up with tears.

"Julian..." she whimpered, looking toward the head of the table.

Julian finally stood up. His eyes locked onto me, cold and threatening. "Clara, it's just a cup of water. Why are you being so petty?"

Looking into his lifeless, arrogant eyes, I stood up, poured a glass of warm water, and slid it across the table.

Chloe didn't catch it. It spilled slightly, and her tears started streaming down. "Julian, I just wanted to be close to her..."

Julian's face darkened completely. "Apologize to her, Clara."

The entire ballroom went dead silent.

My mother-in-law turned her head away. My father-in-law sighed in disappointment.

I stood there, surrounded by stares of pity, mockery, and sheer contempt.

I remembered last year's gala, in this very room, when Julian had held my hand and proudly announced to everyone, "This is my wife, Clara."

Back then, there was pride in his eyes. Even if it was just a little.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice steady. "I shouldn't have told you to call the waiter."

The banquet ended in disaster.

Late that night, Julian stumbled into our penthouse, smelling of scotch. He slammed a folder onto the table.

He lit a cigarette. "Chloe wants a real home. She's a young girl, and she's had a hard life. Sign the papers."

I looked at the divorce agreement.

I remembered the night he proposed to me. He had filled my apartment courtyard with red roses, his hands shaking as he held the ring.

"Clara, marry me. I'll make you the happiest woman in the world."

Once, his eyes held true sincerity. Even if it was only for a moment.

"I want full custody of Leo," I said.

Julian laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. "You can't afford him."

I stood up, looking straight into his eyes. "Then I'll see you in court."

Julian's smile vanished.

He stared at me, his eyes flickering with a mixture of anger and disbelief, before finally settling into a sneer.

"Fine. If you want to humiliate yourself, go ahead. You can't beat me, Clara. You're just a doctor. How are you going to fight the Vance family's legal team?"

The door slammed shut.

Outside, the rain began to pour, drumming aggressively against the glass.

In the courtyard below, the roses Julian had planted himself were being torn apart by the storm.

I walked back to Leo's room and kissed his cheek.

"Sweetheart," I whispered. "Mommy is not going to lose."

From the hallway, I heard the sound of glass shattering in Julian's study.

The war had officially begun.