After my sister, Estelle Malone, gave birth, she fled overseas.

Holding the child, whom she had abandoned, I claimed I was the woman who had spent that night with the Jimenez family heir, Benjamin Jimenez.

Benjamin married me out of obligation to the child, Patrick Jimenez.

Seven years later, Estelle returned.

She gently pulled Patrick into her arms and said, "You've taken my place long enough. It's time you gave it back."

I stayed silent for a long time before nodding. "Fine. But only on one condition: I want money. Enough for me to settle down abroad. Then—and only then—you can reveal the truth."

I had to leave. Otherwise, with Benjamin's vindictive nature, if he found out I had deceived him for seven years, he would make me pay dearly.

***

"Mom."

Patrick stood at the door with his backpack, looking at me.

"What is it?" I smiled, walked over, and rubbed his hair. "Was school tiring today?"

"A lady said she's your sister." He looked at me uncertainly.

I froze. After what felt like an eternity, I regained my composure.

"She looks a little like you," Patrick continued, gripping my hand. "But when I called her 'Aunt,' she seemed upset. She said she isn't my aunt."

My fingers trembled, and my voice was hoarse as I said, "What else did she say?"

"She told me to tell you so you would reach out to her."

I leaned against the wall, my head spinning.

Seven years ago, immediately after Patrick's birth, Estelle insisted on leaving, refusing even to take her own baby with her.

I tried to stop her. "You are in no state to leave! Why not take the child to the Jimenez family? He's their blood. They can't possibly turn him away."

Her voice cracked with despair. "I kept the child a secret from them. How could they ever respect me? They'd never allow me to marry into their family. At best, they would keep the baby and cast me out!"

I went quiet for a long time. "What about the child?"

She was resolute. "I can't take him abroad—he's a burden. Just leave him at an orphanage."

And then she left.

That winter, she left both me and Patrick.

I was struggling financially back then, but I couldn't bring myself to abandon Patrick.

He was so tiny and fragile.

So, I carried him to the gates of the Jimenez's residence.

I ignored all the stares of curiosity, contempt, and disdain.

I simply said, "I want to see Benjamin Jimenez. I had his child."

It didn't go the way Estelle had expected. I wasn't thrown out.

Instead, I got invited inside.

A DNA test was arranged immediately.

When Benjamin returned, his mother, Jennifer Jimenez, said, "We finally have an heir."

He stood tall and imposing. He only gave me a cold glance.

Shame burned in me, and I dropped my eyes.

I only dared to take this risk because of the details Estelle once told me. She said that the night she was with Benjamin, the lights had been off.

So he never knew who the woman was that night, because he had never seen her face.

The sheer weight of his imposing presence instantly dissolved my self-assurance.

I had no idea what to expect.

Fortunately, Benjamin didn't say anything, though he also didn't look at Patrick.

Jennifer cleared her throat. "It wasn't easy for a young lady like her to carry the baby for ten months..."

"I'll marry her," Benjamin interrupted.

Everyone froze.

And so did I.

When I came here, it was only to return Patrick to the Jimenez family. As for where I would go afterward, I hadn't even thought about it.

The silence stretched.

Benjamin's eyes landed on me with casual indifference. "I'll take responsibility for my own mistakes."

Jennifer rubbed her temples after a moment of thought. "Fine. Since you've made up your mind, go prepare for the wedding."

At that moment, my fists clenched tight around the hem of my dress.

I had no idea what his true intention was.

Benjamin had no shortage of choices for a wife. Many women in New York would have gladly stepped in to be the stepmother to the Jimenez family's heir.

Yet he was willing to marry the woman who had gone behind his back and secretly had his child.

Maybe he just wanted to give Patrick a complete family?

I couldn't be sure. But as someone poor and ordinary, I wasn't about to let the chance to marry into a powerful family slip through my fingers.

Besides, that child was Estelle's, which meant he was bound to me by blood as well.

So I lifted my gaze, smiled at Benjamin, and said, "I'll be a good wife and a good mother."

And just like that, a lie once spoken lasted for seven years.

***

"Why are you so distracted?"

Benjamin's arm circled my waist. His calm eyes slid to the side, glancing at me.

I blinked back to the present, leaned against his chest, and whispered, "Ricky's lost weight these past few days. If he loses any more, he'll waste away."

He frowned and said coolly, "You're spending too much energy on him."

As he spoke, he caught my chin and kissed me forcefully.

I couldn't breathe until he finally let me go.

He gripped my waist and pulled me onto his lap.

Looking down at me from above, Benjamin said, "Something's on your mind."

He was always so sharp and perceptive; it terrified me.

But I had long since learned how to deflect. Once again, I used Patrick as my shield. "Ricky's teacher told me he doesn't talk much with other kids at school. Do you think we should see a psychologist? I'm afraid he..."

"Vanessa," he cut me off, his eyes dark. "You need to have your own life."

I paused and sighed. "Alright."

I sat on his lap, watching his slender fingers fly over the keyboard as he handled business with practiced ease.

He didn't press me further, and I managed to escape—at least this time.

But Estelle was back.

There was no avoiding it anymore.

As soon as she handed over the DNA report proving she and Patrick were mother and son, every lie would crumble. And I would be exposed.

Days had passed, and I still hadn't contacted her.

Without realizing it, I twisted my fingers together, drew in a breath, and let it out in a sigh.

I took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh.

Benjamin finally lost his patience. He snapped his laptop shut, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Stop worrying about Patrick for now. Worry about yourself."

When his hand pushed up my nightdress, my mind cleared in an instant. I shoved at him, flustered. "W-Wait! I just remembered I have something to do. I need to make dessert for Ricky—"

He caught both my wrists in one hand and pinned them above my head. Then he made me bite down on the nightdress he had lifted. Looking down at me, he curved his lips into a smile. "You talk too much, sweetheart."

I glared at him, muffled protests caught in my throat.

His hand gripped my waist, his voice low. "Make that sound again. It's cute."

***

I didn't know how much time had passed.

By the end of it, I collapsed on the couch, utterly drained.

Benjamin was already dressed again, calm and composed. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and said, "I'm heading to the office. Don't wait up for dinner."

I gave a weary nod.

My relationship with him was strange—warmer and closer than a marriage built only on courtesy, but nowhere near the passion of true love.

He rarely ate at home and seldom paid attention to Patrick.

The only time he showed warmth was when he was with me.

And even then, it was only a little. Outside of intimacy, there wasn't much between us to talk about.

I dozed off on the couch in the master bedroom.

Then I heard the front door open downstairs—Patrick was home from school.

I slipped into my slippers and went down. "Ricky? Why are you back so late?"

My voice cut off abruptly.

Estelle was standing at the door, holding Patrick by the hand.

My lips parted before I forced out a word. "Essie."

Patrick beamed. "Mom, after school, Aunt Estelle took me to the amusement park!"

I forced a strained smile as I walked over step by step, then bent down and pinched his cheek. "Did Roberto and Phillip come along with you?"

He nodded.

I smiled again. "Good. But next time, make sure Roberto checks in with me first, alright?"

He nodded once more.

Out of nowhere, Estelle spoke. "I didn't expect you to play the mother role so well."

At her words, I lifted my head.

She hadn't changed much in seven years.

Dressed in a trench coat and carrying a designer bag, she looked nothing like the desperate woman who had left New York back then.

I stayed silent.

She gently pulled Patrick into her arms, then looked at me. "You've taken my place long enough. It's time to give it back."

Her tone wasn't harsh, so Patrick didn't notice anything strange. He only blinked in confusion. "What place?"

I froze, my fists clenching without me realizing.

Estelle lowered her voice, soft enough for only the two of us to hear. "We're sisters. You've been pretending to be me and living in my place for years. I'll let that go. But if you want to fight me, you won't stand a chance."

At that, she rested a hand on Patrick's shoulder and smiled at me.

"Ricky, did you have fun today?" I asked hoarsely.

Patrick's personality took after Benjamin—quiet and reserved, not lively at all.

He actually smiled a little for once, glancing up at Estelle. "Yeah, I had fun."

"For..." I forced the words out. "For the parent-teacher meeting the day after tomorrow, if both Essie and I could go, who would you rather have there?"

He froze, then hesitated before reaching for Estelle's hand.

I fell silent for a long moment.

Finally, I patted his back. "Go on upstairs and get started on your homework, alright?"

After Patrick left, Estelle and I stared at each other for a long while.

I let out a self-mocking laugh. "I can leave, but you must give me enough money. Once I'm settled abroad, you can reveal the truth."

Otherwise, with Benjamin's vengeful nature, if he found out I had deceived him for seven years...

He would never let me live.

Her brows knit together. "How much do you want?"

"I've raised your child all these years." I took a step back. "Two million dollars."

She sneered. "Funny, I was just complimenting you. Don't you feel the least bit ashamed to trade a child for money?"

I held her gaze.

After a few minutes of silence, she finally said, "Fine. But right now I only have 400,000 dollars. It should be enough to keep you afloat for a while. When everything is settled, I'll send you the rest."

My voice was barely above a whisper. "Alright."

***

That night, Benjamin texted me. "I'm not coming home tonight."

"Okay, honey," I replied quickly.

A question mark popped up on the screen. "?"

I stared at it.

In the past, to keep up the image of the perfect wife and mother, I would send a string of thoughtful messages every time he didn't come home, such as, "Don't work too hard, honey. I'll be waiting for you. Will you be home tomorrow?" and so on.

But that was all an act. And now that my role as the dutiful wife was almost over, I couldn't be bothered to keep pretending.

Stretching, I started packing my luggage.

The more I packed, the more I realized I didn't want to leave anything behind. Clothes, jewelry, handbags—every piece felt precious.

So I had five large suitcases delivered.

I became so absorbed in sorting and packing that I didn't notice when Benjamin pushed the door open and leaned silently against the doorframe, expression unreadable.

Not until the last suitcase was zipped shut and I straightened, rubbing my back, did I meet his dark, unfathomable eyes.

I froze. "Uh... Hi, honey. Good evening. Didn't you say you weren't coming back tonight?"

The corner of his lips curved slightly, his tone disturbingly calm. "If I didn't come back, where were you planning to go?"

"Oh, um..." I forced a smile, scrambling for an excuse. "I've been so worried about Ricky lately that I can't sleep well. I thought I'd take a little trip to relax..."

He studied me for a long moment. To my surprise, he didn't press me.

Instead, he nodded. "Alright."

I bit my lip. "While I'm away, please spend more time with him. He's quiet, and you don't talk to him much. Make sure the maids cook more meat for him. He's still growing..."

"Vanessa," Benjamin said, his tone edged with impatience. "Even if you're not here, no one in this family would ever neglect him."

I froze. "You're right."

There was more I wanted to say.

Like how these years in the Jimenez family had been good to me, how Jennifer never made things difficult, and how Patrick was a wonderful child.

And also—how I couldn't bear to part with Benjamin.

But the truth was, I wasn't the woman who had spent that night with him, and I wasn't Patrick's mother.

I had lived in Estelle's place as the wife of a wealthy man for years. That should have been enough.

So why... did it still hurt?

Benjamin turned away, his voice flat. "Stay away a little longer. There's no need to rush back."

He strode toward the study without a hint of hesitation.

My fingertips curled slightly as I whispered, "Alright."

***

The flight was more than ten hours.

The moment I landed, I received a photo from Estelle.

Patrick sat quietly beside her, drawing. The picture he sketched was of a woman with long, curly hair, holding a cup of coffee.

He had drawn Estelle.

I stared at it for a long time.

Of course, it made sense. Blood ties ran deep. A child would naturally want to be close to his mother.

"I wish you both happiness," I replied.

And I meant it.

"You didn't raise him very well," she wrote back.

I wanted to explain that, as both Benjamin's wife and Patrick's mother, I had tried my best.

But I knew to her, any defense would sound like provocation.

So I only answered, "Now that you're here, please make up for the mistakes I've made all these years."

She didn't reply again.

I settled down in a remote town in Western Europe. I was a complete stranger here, navigating life solely through a translator, yet the landscape was beautiful, straight out of a film.

A few days later, Benjamin sent me a message.

"Patrick really likes one of his teachers. I told her to stay."

"She's living at our house?" I asked.

"Yeah."

I typed back, "Alright."

I didn't need to ask who it was.

It was fine with me since it would help them grow closer as mother and son.

On Estelle's social media, which she had kept private for years, Patrick began appearing often. He even smiled shyly at the camera.

I had always thought he didn't like to smile.

I turned off my phone.

Those first two days here were strange.

For years, my whole life had revolved around Patrick and Benjamin. I hadn't had much time that was truly my own.

Now, with everything suddenly quiet, I didn't even know what to do with myself besides studying the language here.

One by one, I began deleting Patrick's photos from my phone. Then I passed along his teachers' contact information to Estelle.

Until one day, I saw a photo in the entertainment news—Benjamin and Estelle walking side by side, the atmosphere between them intimate.

I blinked slowly.

It felt as though something inside my chest had gone hollow.

So that was it—Estelle was now the editor-in-chief of a fashion magazine. She had gained recognition overseas, and people back home in the fashion world had begun to notice her, too. Online comments called them a perfect match.

I let out a bitter smile.

They weren't just a perfect match. They already had a child together.

The day the 400,000 dollars hit my account, I quickly deleted every social media profile tied to me and switched to the new SIM card I had prepared long ago.

Sure enough, just hours after the money arrived, the news broke—"The Jimenez family heir's mother is someone else."

It shot straight to the trending news.

But by then, no one could reach me.

I had already moved the 400,000 dollars to another account.

I pressed down the mess of emotions swirling inside me and bit into a freshly baked cookie.

The divorce papers I had left on the nightstand were no doubt already in Benjamin's hands, courtesy of Estelle.

From that moment on, the world was wide open, and I was no longer Mrs. Jimenez.

***

On the day Estelle and Benjamin held their wedding, I was lying back in a chair, basking in the sun.

"Nessa!" A familiar voice called out.

I knew immediately who it was.

It was the teenage girl next door who loved to come over and keep me company.

She had brown-colored hair, a dusting of freckles across her cheeks, and bright blue eyes that always seemed to sparkle with a mischievous smile.

She held up her translator app to show me. "Oh my goodness! I saw this couple from your city. The woman looks a little like you."

Then she flipped to the online photos. I couldn't read the foreign words.

But I recognized the images.

I froze.

Estelle was in a wedding gown, smiling brilliantly as she held onto Benjamin's arm. Behind them, Patrick carried a flower basket.

"They look perfect together," the girl read awkwardly from the translator.

"Of course they do." I smiled, ruffling her hair.

Her family was large. She had a 16-year-old brother and a four-year-old brother. Both of them came tumbling into my yard, one after the other.

I went inside, fetched a plate of cookies, and said, "I added extra sugar this time. Tell me if they taste different."

The three of them circled me and chattered away.

I couldn't help but laugh as I watched them.

Then I saw him—the man who was supposed to be married—standing at the gate. His gaze swept slowly across the yard before settling on me.

The noise around me went silent.

The girl gasped, looked down at her phone, then up again at Benjamin.

His leather shoes crunched against the grass as he walked toward me, the sound sharp in the quiet.

When he finally stood before me, he brushed the back of his finger across my cheek, slow enough to almost feel gentle.

He leaned down. "You ran away from home just to raise someone else's kids?"

I stepped back, avoiding his touch.

The girl hurriedly grabbed her brothers and pulled them away. Before leaving, she even flashed me a little "stay strong" gesture.

My lips trembled as I tried to explain. "Patrick may not be my biological son, but I raised him. Maybe I didn't do much, but I did my best. And I'm still Estelle's sister."

My voice shook. "I'm sorry for coming between you and her for so long. I wish you and Estelle a long, happy life together."

The silence was suffocating.

At last, he let out a cold laugh. "Patrick misses you."

I froze.

His eyes flickered with a flash of coldness. "Without me, do you think Estelle would have given you the remaining 1.6 million dollars?"

My head snapped up.

His hand clamped around my chin, hard enough to make me cry out in pain.

"Come back to New York with me," he said simply.