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Chapter 1 The Woman With the Baby Tess Ember stepped out of the prison gates and into the biting wind. She quickly wrapped her arms around the small bundle in her arms, shielding it from the cold. When the gusts finally died down, she carefully pulled back the corner of the baby blanket, revealing a tiny face—soft, rosy, and impossibly sweet. The baby cooed and blew little bubbles. She blinked her misty, round eyes at Tess. "Layla, my sweet girl," Tess whispered, rocking her gently. At six months old, Layla Ember almost never cried or made a fuss. As long as she was in her mother's arms, the world was safe and warm. A bus pulled up in the distance. Tess clutched Layla close, dropped a couple of coins into the fare box, and found a seat near the back. Meanwhile, a sleek, limited-edition Bentley had just rolled to a stop in front of the prison. In the back seat sat a man. His profile was sharp and cold while his eyes were half-closed in exhaustion. When he finally opened them, they were piercing and icy. His gaze fell on the weathered stone sign at the gate: "Aetheris Women's Prison". Finn Lock withdrew his gaze and glanced at the time on his wristwatch. His tone was crisp and cool. "Why isn't she out yet?" His words were cold and devoid of warmth. Bill Cook, the driver up front, hurried to answer. "Maybe there's a delay with the release paperwork, Mr. Lock." He paused, then added, "But don't worry. Today marks the official end of Mrs. Lock's sentence. I'm sure she will be thrilled to see that you came to pick her up in person." "Is that so?" he said softly. Finn lowered his gaze, concealing the chill in his eyes. "A year and a half ago, she teamed up with the Hunts and leaked confidential company files. She threw it all away—her marriage, her future. She chose to play the spy instead of being my wife. That was on her." His voice turned colder. "Let's see if she has the nerve to face me now." The tension inside the car grew thick, the air turning nearly suffocating. Bill dared not speak again. After a while, he cracked the window slightly to let in some air. Just then, he happened to catch a glimpse of the bus beside them as its engine came to life. "Huh?" Bill blinked. "Wait a second! Isn't that Mrs. Lock?" Finn rubbed his brow, his head pounding from a long night of back-to-back international meetings. He was drained at this point. Finn didn't even open his eyes. "What? Who?" "Oh, my mistake, Mr. Lock," the driver muttered, shaking his head as the bus pulled away. "I thought Mrs. Lock had already come out. "But that's just a woman with a child." It didn't make sense. Tess was only 22 when she went to prison. Her marriage to Finn had been rocky from the start—cold and distant. The couple had never shared a bed. How could he possibly mistake a woman with a baby for Tess? Finn snapped his eyes open. The prison gates remained shut. But through the open window of the bus, he caught a fleeting glimpse of a young woman soothing a baby in her arms. Loose strands of hair fell across the woman's face, covering her cheeks. He couldn't see what she really looked like—only the softness in her eyes as if she were gazing at the most precious thing in the world. And just like that, Finn was thrown back into a memory from 18 months ago. He'd been drinking that night after a business dinner. His mind kept replaying the constant urging of his grandmother—telling him to consummate the marriage and give her a grandchild. He remembered that woman helping him to take off his shoes and jacket. She wiped his face and hands clean, and held a glass of water to his lips. She then half-carried him to the bed. And as she bent down to cover him with a blanket, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Isn't this what you want? You had my grandma pressure me to have a baby with you. Well, tonight—you get your wish." He pulled her into his arms. She looked very delicate as she lay beneath him, her cheeks blushing. A faint, sweet scent clung to her skin—something soft, something that tugged at the frayed edges of his reason. Somehow, he leaned down. He lingered, drawing things out with the foreplay. In the haze of it all, he took her. Somewhere through the blur, he thought he heard her crying, "Not like this, Finn. I don't want this." Haha! Playing hard to get, huh? If you didn't want this, why did you push Grandma to pressure me? What a hypocrite. The thought of it enraged him. The second time he took her, he pinned her wrists above her head and kissed her roughly. The next morning, he was buttoning up his shirt while she was curled up in the sheets, sobbing quietly. Without looking back, he said coldly, "You brought this on yourself." But as he stepped outside, police officers were already waiting. "Mr. Lock, we've gathered evidence. Your employee, Tess Ember, is suspected of leaking corporate secrets. We're placing her under arrest. If we're not mistaken, she's also your wife." Finn's gaze turned cold, and he clenched his jaw. "Forget about protecting my reputation. Do as I told you before—go for the maximum sentence once you find the culprit." They dragged her out of the bedroom. Tess was barely dressed in a camisole and jacket. She collapsed on the ground in the rain-drenched garden, crying as she pleaded with him. "Finn, you have to believe me—I'm innocent." "If pleas like this were useful, the police would be without jobs." He stood under the eaves with his hands in his pockets, unmoved. "I won't agree to any kind of settlement—not even with a hefty payout. I want the person who did this to pay for it." The police dragged her away. Tess turned around and glanced at him again and again. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her neck was marked with hickeys. Drop by drop, her tears splashed onto the rain-soaked stone tiles. Finn pressed his dry lips into a thin line and quickly looked away. "Get the car ready. I'm going to work." The maids behind him were trembling in fear. They'd witnessed everything. They whispered among themselves with their heads close together, but no one dared to speak up. Everyone saw what had just happened to Tess. She was dragged out of the house so brutally. The woman who had loved Finn for ten years was pushed until she laughed through her tears. When a woman did that, it meant she'd given up on a man. ... "Mr. Lock, should we keep waiting?" An hour had passed. Bill finally spoke up. Finn's thoughts were a blur. He finally tore himself free from the grip of those long-buried memories. His jawline was sharp and tense. "No. If she wants to come out on her own, let her crawl." He meant well, even pushing back an important board meeting to pick her up. What a waste of time. "Yes, Mr. Lock." The engine started, and the car pulled away. Even after they'd driven some distance, Bill couldn't help but glance in the rearview mirror. The prison gates are still shut with no sign of Mrs. Lock. Weird. What game is Mrs. Lock playing? She knows we're coming. Why delay things on purpose? Won't she drive Mr. Lock mad with these antics? She'd already done the time. What's the point of being stubborn now? Doesn't she get it? A criminal record doesn't just disappear. No matter how brilliant and unstoppable she used to be, her days of being a star attorney are long over. Bill shook his head and pressed down on the gas. In the backseat, Finn had opened his tablet and was reviewing his emails—but his brows stayed furrowed. Clearly, he was upset. Later that night, in the garden of Evermount Villa, crabapple blossoms littered the walkway. Finn walked out of his study, dressed in dark loungewear. He noticed the light in the bedroom was on. Without realizing it, he quickened his pace. Chapter 2 You Can't Run Away From Me The wind picked up suddenly. The petals fluttered down from the trees, blanketing the gray carpet. When Finn stepped through the door, he was greeted by the sight of those delicate red petals swirling into the room through the open window. The chilly breeze filled the room, carrying a faint fragrance with it, yet the person he thought would be there—wasn't. He walked over and shut the window with a snap. The wind died, but the ache in his chest didn't. He stood at the foot of the bed, his tall frame rigid. One hand pressed into the dark-hued bedsheets while the other rubbed his brow, hard. Why had he been hoping to see her? She was just someone insignificant. Even if she died out there, it wouldn't be his problem. She was the one who chose not to come back. But something in the air lingered—a hint of a familiar scent. But it was almost gone now with the cold breeze blowing. Even so, his expression still changed when he picked it up. "Who's been in this room?" His voice was ice. "Maids!" There was a hidden gate behind the villa. Maria Burn was helping a shaky figure hurriedly leave the property and go out into the night. The woman staggered slightly because of the infant she cradled in her arms. Layla was fast asleep. Maybe the night air was too cool because she tucked her rosy face deeper into her mother's chest. Tess held her baby close, her embrace gentle and protective. She was worried Layla would cry and give them away, but Layla, as if sensing Tess's desperation, stayed quiet. Tess gently adjusted the sleeping Layla in her arms, then turned to Maria. "Thank you for everything." Maria was one of the few long-time staff who worked at the villa. Years ago, Tess had helped her through a desperate time. Tonight, she returned to the villa to retrieve her belongings. Maria was returning the favor by standing guard. Over the years, the household staff had come and gone, but Maria had stayed. Maria had always thought she would spend the rest of her life working an honest job—working hard, keeping her head down, and saving up just enough to retire one day. She had never imagined she'd get a chance to do something that actually mattered. And yet, here she was, repaying Tess. Maria whispered, her voice catching, "If you hadn't given me a job back then, I would've died in this foreign land." She wiped the tears from her reddened eyes. "Mrs. Lock, you've suffered." Maria couldn't help but blurt out, "Are you sure you won't come back?" Tess lowered her eyes without answering. But her silence spoke volumes. "I'm done with him," Tess finally said. "I don't want to have anything to do with him in the future. And I won't let him find out about Layla." Maria sighed, heavy with sorrow. She nodded slowly and asked, "Did you get what you came for?" "I did." Tess adjusted her bag, making sure the documents inside were secure—her ID, bank cards, passport, and the money she'd earned as a lawyer. After three years of hard work; she had saved up three million dollars. This money was rightfully hers. She hadn't touched a single thing that belonged to Finn. Not even a penny. "I got it all, but ... " Her brows furrowed with unease. She had barely grabbed her things when Finn suddenly came out of the study. There hadn't been time to cover her tracks. In their urgency, Maria and Tess left through the window. Tess wasn't sure if they'd left any clues in their rush. All she could hope was that Finn wouldn't notice those details. She and Layla just wanted a quiet, ordinary life—one free from threats and shadows. Maria seemed to read her thoughts and felt a sting in her eyes. She reached out and gave Tess a gentle push toward the gate. "Don't be afraid. If anything happens, I'll take the heat. "I'm not part of the family, but even I couldn't stomach his cruelty when he sent you to prison. "Go now, Mrs. Lock. Take care of your little one. "And take good care of yourself." Tess turned back to her, biting her lip. She said, "Maria, there's one more thing I'd like to ask of you." But Maria already knew. "You don't need to ask. As far as I'm concerned, I never saw you tonight." And with that, Maria closed the gate with a firm click and locked it. Through the narrow gap in the gate, Maria gave one last wave with her weathered, wrinkled hand. There was a trace of reluctance on her face. Years ago, it was Finn who had hired the best lawyers to send his wife to prison. A man as cold-hearted and ruthless as him didn't deserve a good woman like Tess—much less a sweet little girl like Layla. Not far away, petals from the crabapple tree were still drifting down, stirred by the wind. Tess shivered. Even Layla, fast asleep in her arms, seemed to sense the tension. Her tiny mouth puckered, signaling she might cry any moment now. Tess quickly held her tighter. She picked up her pace, walking for a distance and weaving around the surveillance cameras. Only when she reached a corner of the street and spotted the rideshare waiting did she allow herself to exhale and climb in. Not once did she look back. In the car, Layla curled peacefully in her arms, her breath soft and even. Tess glanced out the window as the iron gates of Evermount Villa slipped out of view. Finn, may we never meet again. What she didn't know was that back in the villa, inside the master bedroom, the search team had already returned. One of the men reported, "Mr. Lock, we've reviewed the surveillance footage and searched every corner. There was no sign of Mrs. Lock. But we did find this." He presented Finn with footage. "We've already detained the person shown. This is her background information." A few moments later, a group of security guards arrived at the staff quarters and knocked on Maria's door. One said, his voice cold and sharp, "Maria, the cameras show you were the only person near Mr. Lock's bedroom. Ten minutes later, it was broken into." The security guards didn't wait for a reply. They grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her back. "Mr. Lock is being generous," one of them said. "You have two choices—confess and give it back, or ... " Maria's heart dropped. Before she could speak, the guards abruptly stepped aside, and someone walked in. He had a tall frame, sinister eyes, and sharp features. He had the kind of presence that could freeze the air around him. Finn rubbed his temples tiredly before sizing Maria up with a hard, unreadable gaze. He didn't care what had been stolen. There was only one thing that mattered to him. Finn slowly crouched down, his refined figure laced with a quiet fury. He fixed his gaze on the audacious maid before him. He said, "Tell me. Did she come back? And where did she go?" Maria's eyes widened. She froze for just a moment, then quickly shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice trembling. "No one came to the house tonight. I didn't see anyone, and I didn't take anything." "You're not going to talk, huh?" One of the guards stepped forward, ready to teach her a lesson. But Finn waved his hand. "Let her go." The guard was stunned, puzzled by the command, but he obeyed. Maria exhaled a breath of relief. Maybe she'd convinced them. Then came his voice—calm but ruthless and intimidating. Finn said slowly, "Maria, your file says you have a daughter who lives in Aetheris. She was married for five years before finally getting pregnant. Her husband's a mid-level manager. It took him six years of hard work to earn that role. "They're a happy couple, right? They invited you to spend the holidays together. So, tell me—what would happen if I had him fired tomorrow and blacklisted in the industry? No company would hire him again. "And if he finds out it was because of you—because of something you did—what do you think your daughter and son-in-law would think of you? What would your family become?" "Would you risk your happy family to keep the secret? Smart people like you always know how to make the right choice." By the time he finished, Maria had a mental breakdown. Sweat poured down her forehead. Her back was soaked. She stared at Finn in front of her in terror. This powerful, calculating man could destroy her family as easily as a walk in the park. Her teeth clattered uncontrollably. "I ... I ... " "Where did Mrs. Lock go?" Finn asked again, his voice low and deadly. "Did you help her?" He smiled faintly, but there was nothing kind in it—just frost and warning. If Maria hesitated for another second, he wouldn't give her another chance. Facing the richest man in all of Aetheris—a man with unimaginable influence and a temperament no one could predict—Maria trembled. Her aging hands lifted in a pleading gesture. She knew, deep down, she had no choice. She whispered, choking back tears, "Please don't hurt my daughter. I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything." Finn paused mid-step. Chapter 3 No Way Out Ten minutes passed. Maria collapsed to the ground. "I've told you everything I know. Please, don't hurt Mrs. Lock. She's already been through enough. She—" "She's been through enough?" Finn's voice dripped with scorn. "With her status as Mrs. Lock, she still wasn't satisfied. She's playing this little game of cat and mouse with me. Does she really think she can win?" With a cold sneer, he turned on his heel and strode off. Behind him, the sea of security guards quietly dispersed, vanishing like a receding tide. Maria remained on the cold floor, guilt eating away at her. She muttered to herself, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Lock. This is as far as I can help you. I told them almost everything, except for the one thing that matters most." In the study. "Mr. Lock, do you want us to bring Mrs. Lock back?" Finn's gaze was dark and sinister. He waved it off. "No. If she wants to run, let her. Freeze all her assets—every property and every penny under her name. Let's see how long she can last out there with nothing to her name. She'll come crawling back eventually." As he spoke, the fountain pen in his hand snapped clean in half. His assistant shivered at his scheme. "But Maria said Mrs. Lock is desperate for money. Are you sure we should leave her with nothing? Where will she even sleep tonight? How will she feed herself?" Finn shot him a withering look. "What, feeling sorry for her? Let her sleep on the streets and drink from the gutters. It's her choice. Are you pitying a felon now? Zane, are you serious?" Zane Black quickly shook his head and explained, "I'm not pitying her, Mr. Lock. But isn't this a little cruel?" "Cruel?" Finn's eyes darkened. "Did she think about that when she sold me out to my biggest rival? If you ask me, she brought this on herself." He flung the broken pen across the room. Black ink spattered across the rug and the wall. A storm was churning in Finn's eyes. Zane hung his head low and sighed softly. Deep down, he knew that Mr. Lock had once truly loved his wife. What a shame! ... "Ma'am, we're at Evermount Heights." The rideshare car slowed to a stop in front of a luxury condominium. It was past midnight, and Layla, who was in her arms, squirmed restlessly. She reached down and touched Layla's diaper. It was soaked. If she didn't change it now, it would soak through her clothes. It was freezing outside. Tess couldn't even bear to imagine what would happen if Layla caught a cold—or worse, came down with a fever. What would she do then? Before leaving the house, she realized that the last pack of diapers she had brought from the prison was gone. There was still some formula left, but it was barely enough to last them three or four days. Before heading inside the complex, she turned toward a baby supplies store by the gate. The shop assistant saw her walk in with a restless baby in her arms and rushed over. "Oh goodness, Ms. Ember! What brings you out this late in the cold? Please, let me help. What do you need? I'll pack it up and deliver it to your door." The shop assistant remembered seeing Tess earlier that day entering Evermount Heights—one of the city's most exclusive high-rises. Anyone who lived there was either rich, influential, or, at the very least, a standout in their field. At the time, Tess had been in old clothes, holding a baby. The shop assistant's coworker had quietly gossiped, figuring she was someone's mistress here to claim a place at the table. But Tess had introduced herself as Ms. Ember, owner of a unit in Tower C. Tower C—the crown jewel of the entire property. She never would've guessed it. This woman in shabby clothes, all alone with a baby in her arms, was actually the owner of a unit in Tower C? Her respect for Tess shifted in an instant as she watched the security guard swipe her in with utmost courtesy. She found herself stealing a second look, then a third. And suddenly, she felt ashamed of the gossip she and her coworker had exchanged earlier. Even behind the mask, Tess was striking—slim frame, delicate features, and, most of all, those large, clear, and expressive eyes. Like the moon, they were still and luminous—quietly beautiful. "I'll take three packs of diapers, size 3," Tess said. "And two cases of this Infant Formula, and another two cases of the Follow-On from the same brand. "These baby clothes, cotton, size 3 to 6 months. This whole row, wrap it all up. Tess continued grabbing baby essentials, piling them high. Then, finally, she turned to the young woman, who stood frozen with wide eyes. "Sorry, is this too much?" Tess asked. There was so much stuff, so it would take multiple trips just to carry it all. Tess hesitated, a flicker of discomfort creeping in. Was she troubling this young woman? She never used to think this way. But after what she went through in prison, she'd started to understand just how hard life could be for people at the bottom. Back inside, she'd been at the lowest rung of the prison hierarchy. And because Finn had made a point to personally see to it she was well taken care of, that made her a target. Everyone had taken a turn stepping on her. Now, she did her best not to bother anyone. She avoided attention. She didn't want to owe anything to anyone. Tess reached up and consciously touched her cheek. Under the face mask, which fully covered her face, were scars—bone deep. She could feel them even without a mirror. Her fingers trembled, and she lowered her gaze. The light in her eyes dimmed. Meanwhile, the shop assistant had snapped out of her trance. Jackpot! This one sale would hit her monthly quota, and all it took was a single night shift. Heck, she'd happily work nights every day for sales like this. "No, no! It's not too much! Do you need anything else? I'll pack it up for you!" "That's all for now. Thank you." "Of course. How would you like to pay?" "Debit card, please." Tess dug through her bag. Tucked between her ID and other papers was her golden debit card. As long as she had this, Layla would be okay. They'd be okay. She rubbed her thumb over the edge, then handed it over. "That'll be 1,500 dollars, Ms. Ember. Please hold on just a moment." Beep! Beep! The shop assistant frowned, puzzled. She tried again and again, her gaze turning awkward. "Um, Ms. Ember, do you have another card? This one's been declined. Insufficient funds." "What?" Tess's stomach twisted uneasily. Something cold and heavy settled over her chest. She remembered how easily she had found her cards earlier. Was it possible that ... "Please try these." She hastily pulled out the rest. If she remembered right, each one had tens of thousands of dollars. They were the rewards she'd earned from solving some of Aetheris's biggest cases. Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! "I'm sorry, Ms. Ember. None of them are going through." The shop assistant's smile was clearly strained now. Doesn't she live in a unit at Tower C? How could this be? "Any other cards, Ms. Ember?" Tess stood there, numb and desolate. "No, that's all." "I see. So, about these items ..." "I'll leave them. Thank you anyway." Tess forced a polite smile and turned away, dragging her feet. How could this happen? All of it—gone. Frozen. That's my money. I'd worked for it. Fought for it. Why? Why does he get to do this? "Ms. Ember—wait!" She'd almost reached the door when the shop assistant called after her. "Your baby's crying. She's probably hungry or wet. We have sample packs. Would you like to take one?" Her reminder brought Tess back to the present. She looked down. Layla. Tess hugged her close. A few minutes later, she emerged from the shop's nursing room. Layla had been changed into a fresh diaper, and the shop assistant handed Tess a large bag. She said, "There are all kinds of trial packs inside—different diaper brands, formula samples ... We had some promotional tins too. I stuffed the bag full. Take it. It's for the baby." Tess hesitated. She shouldn't accept it, but the shop assistant said it was for Layla. That was right. She could go without any food and items. But what about Layla? "Thank you." Her voice cracked. Her nose stung, and her eyes burned. Finn had driven her into a corner and taken everything. But this stranger—this shop assistant—had given her a lifeline. She had loved the wrong man. "It's no trouble," the shop assistant said gently. "I don't have kids myself, but I can't stand to hear a baby cry. And I can tell that you love her very much. It's cold out. Please, get her home safe. "No matter what you're going through, Ms. Ember, hang in there. Do it for the baby." She assumed Tess had a falling out with her family or something. These rich folks froze a housewife's cards just because they have a problem with her? Men like that are the worst. Total jerks. Tess clutched the baby tighter and quickened her pace toward her house. It was cold, just as the shop assistant had said. She couldn't let Layla freeze. But now, with no money and no source of income, how were they going to survive? Chapter 4 Mr Lock Doesn't Recognize His Wife "Stop right there! Who are you?" The sudden shout from the security guard yanked Tess out of her daze. She furrowed her brows and said, "You saw me just this afternoon. I live in Tower C. Have you forgotten?" The security guard cleared his throat awkwardly. "I do remember. I was the one who let you in with my key card. But we've just received a new notice—your unit's been frozen. Your creditor filed for a freeze on your property. Without your creditor's approval, you're not allowed to enter." "What? That's my house! Why can't I go in?" Tess's voice cracked in disbelief. I paid for this house in full. What does it have to do with Finn? The security guard gave her a once-over and softened his tone. "Look, since you've got a kid with you, I won't make things harder. But you really should leave." "You ... What about my things? My luggage is still inside!" The security guard shrugged and explained, "Unless you've got court documents lifting the freeze, we can't let you in. Maybe try calling your creditor? If they say yes and notify our office, we'll let you in temporarily." "I don't even know what creditor you're talking about." Her lips turned pale. "You need to figure it out." The guard didn't respond. He gave her a cold glance and turned back toward the comfort of the heated security booth, shutting the door behind him. Tess stood alone in the bitter wind, chilled to her bones. From a legal standpoint, Finn did have the right to use her criminal record—her conviction and time in prison—as grounds to freeze her property and liquid assets, claiming to be a harmed party. In other words, a word from him could leave her utterly stranded with nowhere to turn to. No money. No roof above my head. Does he hate me that much? I've served my sentence. Why is he still haunting me? "Finn, how can you be so heartless?" she murmured. Holding Layla close, Tess had nowhere to go. The security guard didn't want her lingering at the entrance, taking shelter from the wind and rain. In his eyes, she was a stain on the image of the upscale property. He chased her off more than once. With no choice, Tess found herself standing on an empty street, shivering—not from the cold but from the fury rising inside her. She shut her eyes. She needed a way out—for herself and for Layla. At that moment, a flyer fluttered to her feet. It was a job ad for a street cleaner. Tess crouched down and picked it up with hands so cold they were turning blue. "Accommodation provided, two meals a day, 3,000 dollars a month." That was all it promised. She had a criminal record, so no respectable company would take her in. Not even a decent chain restaurant would hire someone like her. But a cleaning job? Maybe that was her best option. Tess hugged Layla tighter and took one last look at the gates of Evermount Heights. Then, she walked away decisively, her pace quickening. Later that night, a luxury sedan rolled out of Evermount Villa's main entrance. Finn reclined in the back seat with his eyes closed, half-asleep. Someone got into the car at Cora Bay. "Finn, guess what I brought you?" the woman chirped cheerfully. She had long, soft chestnut curls and wore a couture business suit. Her wrist was adorned with a gold watch—an exclusive pre-release model—not yet available to the public. The elegant gold face was encrusted with tiny diamonds, shimmering with quiet extravagance. From head to toe, there wasn't a single detail on her that wasn't polished to perfection and screamed luxury. She was all smiles and grace, holding out an artfully arranged breakfast. But Finn, seated beside her, remained cold and silent. His profile looked icy. When he didn't respond, her smile began to falter, and a flicker of concern crossed her face. "You're in a bad mood today, aren't you?" She lowered her hands and curled her fingers tightly on her lap. "I heard you went to pick Tess up yesterday. Is she still mad at me for reporting her back then?" Finn's hand paused mid-scroll on his tablet. He had flipped through several pages, but he hadn't read a single word. The tantalizing scent of the breakfast lingered in the air. Tess used to make the same kind of bread rolls every morning. He'd come downstairs to find her in an apron, busy in the kitchen. Even if he had already eaten, he'd still take one, unable to resist. Now, he took a bite of a bread roll, but the delicacy in his memory tasted nauseating. They looked the same, but they didn't taste right. "She brought it on herself. Nadine, don't forget—just a year and a half ago, you single-handedly beat the legendary firm belonging to the Hunts with that brief you wrote. You're a genius in the legal world. My company thrives because I have you by my side. "As for her ... " Finn set down the food and grabbed a bottle of water, twisting it open and drinking it down. Only after he'd washed the taste from his mouth did the tension in his brow begin to ease—but the tight line of his lips was steeped in contempt. "She's just a convicted felon who doesn't deserve your attention." The gleam of his luxury watch caught the light, its cold reflection matching the iciness in his voice. His lips tightened into a line after that speech. "But Tess was my mentor," Nadine Ember said softly, as if she still carried some trace of guilt. "She was the one who brought me into Lock Group as a legal intern." She let out a sigh, her tone heavy with apparent worry about Tess. "If it hadn't been for her, you never would've been stuck in that position for years. She was jealous of your talent. She stole your arguments and used them to skyrocket her career. She was conniving. And you were too kind." Finn gave Nadine a rare, gentle smile, his eyes brimming with nothing but scorn and disdain for Tess. Nadine quietly let out a breath of relief. Then, as if making an offhand comment, she lamented, "Yeah, it still baffles me. Who would've thought Tess would sell out the company? She knew full well that the man from the Hunts was your sworn enemy—and yet she still colluded with him, trying to trap you so that you'd have no choice but to depend on her." She placed her hand on Finn's knee. She looked like she had been hit by a pang of fear, as though the memory still unsettled her. "Yeah. Thank goodness you're by my side." Finn patted her hand absentmindedly, his thoughts already drifting away. That woman ... Where is she now? Wasn't she obsessed with becoming my wife? She didn't come home last night. Did she spend the night on the streets and digging through dumpsters for food? Or secretly cooking up a grand scheme? The thought made his lips curl into a cold smirk. Across from him, Nadine's cheeks flushed in the intimacy of the moment. But her eyes glinted with contempt. So what if that bitch is out of prison? She's still beneath me. A felon with a criminal record. No matter how brilliant she used to be as a star attorney, that bitch is as worthless as the dirt beneath my feet now. Tess, your title is mine now. And so is your husband. Screech! The sudden slam of brakes sent Nadine tumbling into Finn's arms. He caught her just in time and narrowly prevented Nadine from injuring herself. His cold eyes bore into the driver in the front. He asked, "What happened?" Bill wiped the sweat from his forehead and apologized, "Sorry, Mr. Lock. There's a street cleaner up ahead. I almost hit her." Finn looked out the windshield. There, bent over in the early dawn light, was a woman bundled in a faded scarf and an oversized coat. She was sweeping the leaves and puddles on the road with a broom that looked far too large for her frame. She was small—almost childlike. Every motion was clumsy but painstakingly careful. The hem of her pants was soaked, but she didn't seem to mind the biting cold. The screech of the tires had clearly startled her. She glanced over, then instantly ducked her head like she'd seen something terrifying. Finn narrowed his eyes. That woman ... She started sweeping faster, frantic, as if something monstrous were chasing her. The cold water sloshed around her ankles, but she didn't stop. And then he noticed—something was strapped to her chest. "A baby?" Nadine gasped. "She's out here sweeping the streets with a baby? That woman must be out of her mind. "A mother like her doesn't deserve to have children," she added with a sneer, arms crossed in judgment. Finn's frown deepened. There was something about her frame ... The way she moved ... Even the color of the baby's clothing looked familiar. He'd seen it before. Yes—outside the prison. He had seen this woman on the bus, cradling a child in her arms. Chapter 5 Is That Mr Lock's Child? "Mr. Lock, what should we do? Should I go help her?" Bill asked softly, sympathy tugging at his voice. He was a father too. Scenes like this were hard to watch. Finn said nothing, but before he could respond, Nadine frowned. "You're Finn's driver, not some street cleaner. Helping her would be humiliating, Finn. Just drive around her." "But ... maybe we could wait for a minute or two, Mr. Lock. She'll be done soon," Bill replied gently. Anyone with eyes could see what was going on. The road was narrow, and trying to swerve around the woman would splash her with cold, dirty rainwater. It was water that had been pooled there all night. It was dirty and freezing cold. She was carrying a baby too. If they did that, that cleaner was bound to fall sick. "If you want to blame someone, blame the weather. It rained all night. She just has to be sweeping this one flooded road. It's not our fault—it's her luck," Nadine said with a dismissive pout. She glanced at Finn's stoic expression, and her heart thudded at his reaction. Quickly, she put on a helpless expression and said, "Finn, I do feel bad for her, but ... " Before she finished, Finn's cold voice cut through the air. "She's just a street cleaner. Drive through. "I know. You're worried about being late for the meeting," he added gently, patting Nadine's hand. But when he turned to Bill, his tone was ice. "What, are you deaf now?" Bill jolted in fear. He clenched his jaw and hit the gas. The car sped forward. Rainwater surged up, spraying high into the air, but only a few drops returned to the ground. Tess stood there, frozen like a statue, clutching Layla to her chest. She didn't even have the strength to pick up the broom she'd dropped. The car roared past. In the backseat, Nadine checked the rearview mirror with a triumphant smirk on her lips. A filthy street cleaner like her dared to block her and Finn's path? It served her right. Hmph! "Waaah! Waah!" Layla was startled and started crying all of a sudden, her wails piercing through the quiet, cold street. Even as the car sped far down the road, the crying didn't stop. Bill's heart twisted with guilt. In the backseat, Finn pretended to be reading documents, looking like he was not bothered by the incident. But the same page sat untouched on his lap. "Shhh, Layla. It's okay," Tess whispered through tears, rocking the baby strapped to her chest as she watched the vehicle disappear into the distance. "Don't cry, sweetie. It's alright." Pedestrians paused. Some took out their phones to record the scene. Finding it amusing, they uploaded the scene online. "Look at this street cleaner, soaked in muddy water. What a sight! This is hilarious," one of them mocked. "Man, this is gold. Tip me and I'll bring you to see this up close." Their mocking voices couldn't break Tess—but the sound of Layla's terrified crying did. Her tears finally fell, splashing onto Layla's blanket. Tess quickly reached out, trying to wipe her tears away before they could soak through the blanket. But the moment her hand touched the fabric, she realized it was covered in muddy water. She had only made things worse. Layla was screaming in her arms, her tiny face scrunched up. She was flushing and wet. No matter how gently Tess rocked her, she wouldn't stop crying. The sound tore through her like a blade. And in that moment, Tess could no longer hold herself together. She bent down in the middle of the cold. Tess had seen it. She hadn't missed the scene in that car—the man and woman holding each other close. It was her ex-husband and her sister and apprentice she had once mentored with care. Now, they sat comfortably in luxury, high and mighty. All that was built on the ruins of her reputation and dignity. She had fallen into the mud after they used her as a stepping stone to rise. She had loved the wrong man, and this was her fault. She'd given everything for him, and this was where she ended. Who could she blame? But she had Layla now. Tess clung tightly to Layla in her arms. Her scarf slipped as she knelt, revealing the face hidden beneath. It was a beautiful face, like a beautiful painting. Her eyes were full of life, her nose was straight and graceful, and her rosy lips had a natural flush to them. But a deep scar ran across her left cheek, ruining everything. It was the kind of scar that made people look twice—and look away. There, in the puddle-filled street, a young mother crouched silently, holding her baby and crying quietly. The silence was deafening. Even the streamer, who moments ago had been shouting enthusiastically and demanding gifts from his viewers, suddenly fell quiet in shame. His hands dropped, and his cheeks burned hot. "I-I'm sorry," he muttered. "I just wanted to get views." "That car was messed up," someone else added. "Want me to help you expose them?" Tess quickly wiped her tears, though her voice was still raw. She shook her head and pulled her scarf back up, tightly covering her face again. She said softly, "Please, could you delete the video?" The man looked into her eyes—those beautiful, almond-shaped eyes still shining with tears. It was such a pair of beautiful eyes. What a shame ... Those clear, tear-filled eyes—how could anyone say no to them? He fumbled with his phone. "Yeah, yeah, of course. Look, it's gone. See?" "Thank you." Tess's voice was soft, barely audible. She offered a quiet word of thanks before turning away to pick up her broom and resume clearing the water. Once she finished this last puddle, her shift would be over for the day. And by then, little Layla would no doubt be hungry. Layla, even if I have to sweep every gutter in this city, I'll still give you the sky. A minute later, she quietly pushed her cleaning cart down the street. That slender figure—fragile, yet unshakably steady—slowly disappeared into the distance. Only then did the bystanders snap out of their daze. "She's so young. Why would she take a job like this?" someone asked. "Maybe it's a social experiment or a real-life video shoot?" another guessed. And just like that, the scorn returned. "These days, people will do anything for money." "Bet the whole thing was staged—even the car." "Ugh, anything for attention. No shame at all." Only one car remained parked a short distance away. Inside, Max Hunt sat frozen, his eyes locked on Tess's retreating figure. His expression was unreadable. "Was that Tess?" he murmured. "H-How did she end up like this?" He had a mole resting just below his left eye. His features were striking, almost too perfect, but at this moment, disbelief clouded his face. He wasn't sure if he was asking the man beside him—or himself. Max lowered his gaze, his long lashes trembling slightly. His lips were pressed into a tight line. Somewhere behind the calm surface, a flicker of pain passed through him. He had never regretted what happened back then. And now, he had everything—power, reputation, and wealth. He could offer her a better life. After all, she had only spent a year in prison. She had nothing now. It didn't matter that she had served time. Her past didn't matter. He didn't care. He could take care of her and make it up to her. "Mr. Hunt, that woman with the baby?" His driver blinked, clearly stunned. "That can't be Ms. Ember. You must've made a mistake." In his mind, Max had spent years pining after Tess. Maybe he would mistake every woman for the one he loved. Even if she had been in prison, there was no way Tess was that woman in the oversized coat, cleaning the street. Back then, Tess was the rising star of the legal world in Aetheris. She had that kind of quiet charm. A smile from her could make a defendant shake and a prosecutor sweat bullets. Top firms had chased after her relentlessly, practically throwing job offers at her. But she turned them all down to take a modest position as lead counsel at Lock Group. Some said she was too in love to think straight. But no one ever really knew what went on in her head. Either way, a woman like her—elegant and brilliant—couldn't possibly be the same person who now stood covered in street grime, holding a baby while sweeping gutters. Max curled his fingers and slowly clenched his hand into a fist. The window of his luxury car slowly rolled back up. His profile—excessively handsome—was covered in the shadows, his beauty tinged with something darker and harder to name. "I hope I'm wrong," he said quietly. "Find out if she was released early. "And that child ... Is it Finn's?" Alan Hoffman, the driver who also served as his assistant, immediately dropped his casual smirk. Was Max serious? Did he really think that woman was Tess? But that was impossible. Still, he obeyed languidly. "Yes, Mr. Hunt." Chapter 6 Mrs Lock Wants a Divorce The car moved slowly down the road. As if to confirm whether the woman pushing the cart was really Tess, Alan deliberately trailed behind her for quite a while. That woman was pushing a heavy street-cleaning cart along the road, one arm cradling a baby bundled in a blanket. The bitter wind howled as the woman trudged forward, slow and unsteady. She was wrapped in an old, puffy coat, with a thin, neon-yellow safety vest thrown over it. But it was completely useless against the cold. Her body trembled with every gust. The cart she was pushing was heavy. She had no choice but to hunch over, straining with all her might just to keep it moving. Just then, the cart bumped over a rock, jostling it violently. It tipped. She instinctively tightened her grip on the baby and reached out with one hand to steady the cart, but it was too late. The whole thing collapsed, dragging her down with it. Her knees slammed into the pavement with a painful thud. Her brows furrowed in pain, and for a long time, she didn't get up. Only the baby in her arms remained unhurt. She squirmed slightly and pressed her tiny head against her mother's chest, clearly searching for food. Her little lips began to pucker; she was famished and about to burst into tears. The woman tried to soothe her, rocking her gently and whispering, but it was no use. Realizing she wasn't being fed, the baby's hunger mixed with the shock of the fall, and she started wailing. "Waaah! Waaah!" Nothing broke a heart faster than a hungry baby's cries. Tess gritted her teeth. Sweat covered her forehead, but she had to muster every ounce of strength to haul the cart upright again. "I'm sorry, Layla," she whispered. "Just a little longer. "Mommy's almost done. We'll get food soon." The car had been tailing her for a while now, and it was only now that Tess noticed. She glanced back, alert and cautious. Who is it? Is someone passing by? Alan scoffed. He didn't believe it for a second. As if! How could such a pitiful, haggard woman be Ms. Ember? He had no interest in wasting any more time on a street cleaner. He pressed down on the gas and sped off. In the backseat, Max had no idea what Alan had been up to. His Bluetooth earpiece blinked with a soft blue light as he spoke fluently in a foreign language. He was clearly in the middle of an international business call. His suit was flawless, and his elegant manner was on full display. Obviously, he was a man born to lead. As the car rolled over a large puddle, dirty water splashed high into the air and drenched Tess. Of course, people who drove luxury cars rarely stopped to consider how much trouble their actions could cause others. Tess turned her back just in time, shielding Layla from the icy spray. Layla was all that mattered to her. "Layla, did I see wrong?" she whispered. "That car looked so familiar. "No." Tess's voice trembled with confusion. "It can't be." It couldn't be him. She had once confided in Max, treating him like her big brother. He was the only one she told everything to, even her secret crush on Finn. Even though Max was Finn's sworn rival, she had never once doubted him. But Max had used a classified document to win a lawsuit against Finn. It earned him instant fame and the recognition of his family. He rose from an illegitimate son to the rightful heir of his family. Max rose to his prime. While she fell into the mud. Why me? Why use me and step on me to climb higher? He was the same man who had once promised her to be patient; he said he'd represent her in court and defend her innocence. The same man who, when it came time for the verdict, switched sides and became a witness for the prosecution. Max was the Hunts' third son. He gave a false testimony and sent her to prison. She was sure he had long forgotten the woman who ended up behind bars because of him. Tess's heart didn't even ache when she thought of him. It was numb. She tightened her grip on Layla and pushed forward into the wind, walking faster. Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the dorms for sanitation workers. Tess had used part of her advance paycheck to buy a new baby bottle. She sterilized it with boiling water and prepared Layla's milk. Once fed, Layla looked completely content. Her chubby hands held onto Tess's finger like it was the only thing she trusted. Tess wiped Layla's face with a soft towel, catching a glimpse of a particular someone's features in her child. He had a brooding face, sharp and cold, with a stern expression that rarely softened into a smile. But Layla's smile was sweet, and her eyes curved like crescent moons. Tess stared for a moment, lost in thought. Even as a baby, Layla already gave away hints of being a stunning beauty. Tess didn't mind if life stayed hard, as long as she and Layla were together. But that depended on one thing—that man could never find out about Layla. If he did, he would take her away. Layla was her only reason to keep going. If she lost her ... Tess shivered at the thought. Layla, in her arms, seemed to sense her fear and let out a startled, pitiful sob. Tess quickly set down the bottle and picked her up, pacing the tiny room as she hummed a soft lullaby. Layla's eyes crinkled with joy again, and following the rhythm of Tess's voice, she stopped crying. She giggled and babbled, sounding like she was trying to sing along. She was practicing, Tess realized. In just a few months, Layla would start calling her "Mommy". "Tess, you're back? Finished sweeping your section?" Tess had just gotten Layla to settle down when her roommate returned, pushing her own cleaning cart through the narrow dorm hallway. When she saw Tess cradling the baby, she shrugged off her neon-yellow vest, her wrinkled face lighting up with a rare, gentle smile. She washed her hands before stepping closer. "Layla's such a good baby," she said warmly. "But are you sure it's okay bringing her out there with you? She's so little. Can she handle the cold and the wind?" Her roommate's name was Bessie Moon. She had a kind heart and a down-to-earth manner. Even though they'd only known each other for a day, she'd already taken Tess and Layla under her wing. Bessie had retired a few years back, but her husband complained that she was being lazy at home, and their son—who worked in another city—couldn't do much to mediate. Rather than let it become a family issue, Bessie simply took the job to earn a little pocket money and get out of the house. Tess smiled faintly at Bessie's concern. "Layla only wants her mother. She wants to be with me all the time." Bessie chuckled helplessly, shaking her head. "I know. I even suggested switching shifts and figured I'd watch her while you were out, and then we'd swap. But your little one wouldn't have it. The second she can't see you, she cries like her whole world's falling apart." Tess pulled Layla closer and sniffled a little. "We've never been apart. Not since the day she was born." Bessie silently sighed. Poor thing! "What about your man? He doesn't help out? No support, nothing?" Tess hesitated. That question again. "He's with someone else now, isn't he?" Bessie ventured, watching the uncertain expression flicker across Tess's face. She slapped her thigh knowingly. "Thought so." Bessie lamented, "You've got it rough, Tess. Raising a baby on your own. Take this." She reached into her cart and pulled out a baby rattle she'd picked up during her shift. It was still sealed in plastic. Someone must've dropped it. "I found this earlier, and it looks brand new. I figured Layla could use it, so I brought it back for you." Then, she added, "I'll check if I've got any old baby clothes at home. My boy wore them when he was little. They might be a bit worn, but they're clean. I hope you can accept them." The kindness of strangers always struck Tess the deepest. Her voice caught as she thanked Bessie with gratitude, "Hand-me-downs are good luck. Layla and I are grateful. Really." Bessie nodded. "That's what they say—babies who wear hand-me-downs stay healthy and safe." Bessie looked down at little Layla, gently shaking the rattle in front of her. Layla reached out with both hands, babbling happily as she tried to grab it. Bessie couldn't help but praise, "Layla's such a sweet baby and so well-behaved, but her dad just walked away like it meant nothing. Layla, sweetheart, when you grow up, you be good to your mama, okay?" Then, she looked up again, suddenly looking thoughtful. "Tess, do you still talk to your husband?" Tess froze, then shook her head. "No." Bessie blinked in surprise. "Wait—you're planning to get a divorce?" Divorce? The word hit Tess like a jolt of electricity. Yes. Divorce. I'm Mrs. Lock, but it's all on paper—a hollow title. As long as her marriage to Finn remained legally intact, she would still be his wife. And every single day she held that title, she would feel restless—like she was in someone else's shoes. That identity, once the happiness she had dreamed of, had become a prison. But to file for divorce, she needed him to sign the papers. A sudden thought took root in her mind.

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