Chapter 2

In their circle, no matter how many lovers a man kept on the side, in public everyone made a show of protecting his lawful wife.

There was an old saying, after all, that a man who wronged his wife would be plagued by every kind of illness, so whatever they truly did, they kept up appearances.

Except for Lois Thomas's father.

Leon Thomas was the first man to bring his mistress and his illegitimate son home.

Not long after, Lois's mother jumped to her death.

From childhood Lois was mistreated by her stepmother and bullied by that illegitimate son.

Everyone assumed she would be crushed for good.

Instead she endured it, quietly gathering evidence, and at eighteen she handed the report to the internal affairs unit and put her own father in prison with her own hands.

Then, with her grandfather's help, she took over all of Thomas Group.

By twenty, she had her footing in the Thomas family.

At twenty-one, the illegitimate son who had bullied her all those years died in international waters, not a bone of him left.

After that, everyone knew exactly what would set her off.

And right now Lois's face was dark, and she said, almost on impulse, "Victor, I'm keeping the baby."

I didn't answer.

Because a second later, her gaze went past me, through the car window, and settled on someone.

I followed her eyes.

Outside our house stood a man in a trench coat.

At some point a light rain had started, soaking his clothes and his hair, and he looked pitiful standing there.

It took me only a moment to guess he was the one who had called Lois.

Sure enough, the next second she pushed the car door open and ran to him, holding him tight, like something precious she'd lost and found again.

I thought I had braced myself for this. But watching it, my chest hurt so much I could barely breathe.

So this was what it looked like when Lois loved someone.

In a daze, I realized she had already pulled the man over to the car.

When she saw I was still inside, her brows drew together and her voice went cold. "Get out."

I bit my lip and opened the door, and the moment I steadied myself the car sped off, spraying muddy water all over me.

I stood there quietly, watching her car disappear, wiped the rain from the corner of my eye, and only then went inside.

Nothing in the house had changed, yet even the light felt cold.

I dug out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in three years.

"Hey, Grant, I've got a villa to sell. Do you have any buyers?"

There was silence on the other end, and then, as if he'd caught on to something, he suddenly asked, "You got divorced?"

"Yeah."

"Let's meet tomorrow. We'll talk in person."

He hung up before I could say anything else, and my nose stung anyway.

Grant Mann's reputation in the circle wasn't good, or rather it was rotten through, but he was the only person who was ever good to me.

He was a well-known gold digger in that world.

He wasn't after people, wasn't after love, only after money.

He was like a pretty vase, passed around and played with by all the rich second-generation kids, and as long as you gave him some luxury item, he'd revolve around you.

Give him a car and a house, and he'd do a lot more.

Everyone assumed that once he was no longer young and handsome he'd be tossed aside, but who could have guessed he'd go straight for those rich kids' mothers and latch on to some powerful bigshot.

The two of them even went abroad and had a son.

After that, Grant never again had to flatter this one and that one, never again had to be treated like a plaything.

At first I disliked him too.

I thought he had no self-respect, no regard for himself, that he'd made a mess of his own life.

I even said as much to his face.