The day I found out my wife had a three-year-old son with another man, I planted explosives in our mansion, ready to end it all with her.
But that night, Isabella never came home.
As despair consumed me, I heard my ten-month-old daughter call out Daddy for the first time.
In that moment, I no longer wanted to die.
I took the most expensive car from the garage and detonated the bombs outside the mansion.
Amid the flames, I drove to the airport.
From then on, the man once known as Harbor City’s laughingstockIsabella’s husbandvanished without a trace.
Five years later, we met again at a heritage-town inn.
She stared at me as I politely handed her the room key, her expression dazed.
“Lucas, you seem… different from before.”
I didn’t respond, only smiling as I wished her family of three a pleasant stay.
01
The room key hung in the air, but Isabella made no move to take it.
My wrist grew sore, so I spoke again.
“Ms. Isabella, your key.”
“I’ll take it.”
A clear voice cut through the tension from behind her.
It was her legally wedded husband, Adrian.
My gaze brushed against the glaring wedding band on his finger, then collided with those familiar eyesthe ones that haunted my nightmares.
“I told you to wait on the sofa. Why won’t you listen? You worry me.”
Isabella instinctively took his belongings and melted into his embrace.
She pressed her hand to his forehead, her voice softer than I’d ever heard:
“Good, no fever.”
“You must be tired. Take our son upstairs to rest. I’ll buy some warm congee.”
Adrian nodded gently, his eyes sweeping over me with scrutiny:
“Alright, I’ll wait for you.”
As they embraced, I looked awayonly to see a deliveryman hauling in cat litter.
While checking the pickup code, Isabella bent to lift the bags.
“Let me help. Where should these go?”
“No need.”
I reached for the bags, deliberately keeping my distance.
Noticing the dust smudges on her dress, I walked to the counter and handed her two bills.
“For dry cleaning. I’ll cover the cost.”
“Really, it’s fine. I offered to help.”
Isabella reached to stop me, her fingers nearly brushing my wrist before I pulled back.
Her hand froze mid-air, her voice tinged with unspoken bitterness:
“Don’t trouble yourself. I should go.”
As she turned, she nearly collided with Chloe, the staff member returning with sugar-roasted chestnuts.
Chloe stared at Isabella’s retreating figure, then tugged my sleeve excitedly:
“Lucas, wasn’t that Isabella Smith from Harbor City’s Smith Group? She’s stunning!
“I’ve seen her interviewsshe built her empire from nothing and never stops praising her husband.
“Talented and devoted? She’s perfection!”
Other guests chimed in:
“True! I heard her ex-husband was insaneshould’ve been jailed for assault.”
“She showed mercy by paying him off, but she finally divorced him after enduring so much.”
Hearing these slurs again, I felt nothingmy heart was a stagnant pond.
Only the scar on my thumb webbed with a dull throb.
02
Rubbing the centipede-like scar on my thumb, memories surged back.
Isabella was never some self-made entrepreneurshe was the bullied scholarship student no one noticed.
I found her cornered by rich kids in the freezing wind, forehead bleeding through her faded uniform.
I grabbed a wooden pole and fought them off.
In the chaos, glass sliced my thumb to the boneeight stitches to stop the bleeding.
Isabella slipped away from the hospital because she couldn’t afford the medical bill.
Her father was a drunk; her mother, mentally unstable.
After that, I protected her instinctively.
She remained quiet but tutored me in math after school.
When she aced the high school entrance exam as the city’s top scorer, she couldn’t afford tuition.
I begged my dad to fund her education until she started working in college.
During her internship, those same rich kids harassed her. My dad brought her into our family company and mentored her himself.
Isabella had a gift for businesscomplex data reports made sense at a glance.
I’d sit beside her, chin in hand, admiring her focused profile.
My dad saw my feelings. Even knowing Isabella only felt gratitude, he helped her start a company after graduation.
Within a year, Isabella built a name in Harbor City.
Then my mom fell ill. Dad made reckless decisions trying to save the company.
When bankruptcy loomed, Isabella turned things around.
Dad always said she was our family’s savior, that she owed us nothing and should live freely.
But she knelt before him, swearing with fierce determination:
“Lucas, I can never repay your kindness. Please entrust your son to meI’ll care for him forever, never letting him suffer.”
The old scar on my thumb throbbed again.
I lowered my gaze to the ugly mark and almost laughed.
How naive I wasmistaking gratitude for love.
After that, I called myself her husband without any formal title.
I lingered at her company, silently staking my claim.
Isabella never objected. She even let me choose her personal assistant, noting: “Pick a sharp woman.”
But during interviews, Adrian’s resume stood outnot for being divorced, childless, or professing to be “child-free.”
It was his eyesidentical to Isabella’s late mother’s.
In her lucid moments, Isabella’s mother was her only light in a bleak childhood.
So I hired Adrian without question.
When Isabella saw him, her eyes reddened with emotion.
That night, she held me, trembling through tears, thanking me repeatedly.
I pitied her, often inviting Adrian over, creating chances for them to bond.
I thought I was helpingnever realizing I was digging my own grave.
03
The gossips dispersed. I picked up my daughter’s photo frame, wiping it absently.
Chloe nibbled chestnuts and asked casually:
“Lucas, why don’t you ever eat these? They’re delicious.”
My hand stilled. Painful memories engulfed me.
My mom and I loved chestnuts.
Dad always brought home a warm bag after work.
Mom would peel them, blowing gently before feeding me.
But the year Mom was dying, in her final lucid moment, she craved chestnuts.
Dad drove to buy themthen got a call that Mom was critical.
In his panic, he sped into an oncoming truck and died instantly.
The freshly bought chestnuts scattered, stained with his blood.
That first snowy winter day, I lost both parents.
Chloe’s eyes welled up, flustered.
She moved the chestnuts away, voice cautious:
“Lucas, don’t be sad. Chloe and Mia will always be here for you.
“Mia’s school bus will arrive soon. Let’s explore the heritage town tonight”
She broke off, staring at my daughter’s eyes in the photo, mouth agape.
“Lucas, Mia’s missing mother… it’s not…”
I nodded confirmation.
Chloe hesitated, then asked softly, eyes brimming with pity:
“Then… those rumors… Lucas, how much did you suffer?”
I froze, nose stinging at her concernbut it passed.
I smiled faintly.
We did have happy years once.
The day my parents died, Isabella proposed.
She had lawyers transfer all her company shares to meno strings attached.
Kneeling, she vowed to give me a new family, to care for me forever, begging me to stop crying because it broke her heart.
I collapsed from grief. Isabella arranged my parents’ funeral alone.
When I recovered, we registered our marriage.
No wedding, just college-era promise ringsbut I was content, feeling like the luckiest man alive.
I poured all my love into Isabella.
I knew she was busy, so I never demanded much.
I waited up for her in the lit living room when she worked late.
I packed my bags to accompany her on business trips.
And she didn’t disappoint.
At first, Isabella adored meher obsessive love became Harbor City’s envy.
Newspaper headlines and billboards bore her declarations:
“I love Lucas”her public love letter to the city.
Just as I healed from losing my parents, news of her affair with Adrian trended online.
My “brother” embraced and kissed her in a rooftop garden restaurant.
It was my birthday.
I’d cooked all Isabella’s favorite dishes, wearing the suit she gifted me, waiting all night.
I called repeatedlyshe always answered, soothing me gently:
“At a work event, be good. I’ll be home soon.”
Adrian spent his entire bonus on a luxury watch for me, with a note:
“Happy birthday, my best friend.”
That night, I thought I had the world.
I didn’t know my deepest wounds would come from those I cherished most.
04
Seeing the trending news, I drove off in a rage.
Tears blurred my visionI nearly rear-ended cars twice.
But I didn’t careI needed answers.
At the restaurant, I saw Adrian holding the car door for Isabella.
I stormed over. Isabella shielded Adrian, her gaze icy, unrepentant:
“Lucas, what’s your problem?”
Adrian peered over her shoulder, greeting me warmly.
Around his pale neck was the Smith family heirloom necklace I’d always loved but never worn.
Beside it, a deep red hickey burned my eyes.
I lunged at him, fists flying wildly.
“Why? I treated you like a brother! Why betray me?”
Adrian sobbed dramatically, cowering behind Isabellabut his eyes gleamed with triumph.
Isabella shoved me away, fussing over Adrian, soothing his fake tears.
I crumpled to the ground, clutching my aching stomach, watching them embraceheart shattered.
When Isabella turned to confront me, she saw blood seeping through my shirt.
I was hospitalized.
The stab wound I’d taken for her days earlier had reopened because of her.
She rushed me to the hospital, staying by my bed, her worried devotion mirroring the past, apologizing repeatedly:
“Lucas, I’m sorry. I swear I’ll never hurt you again.”
I slapped her, kicked and cursed her, wishing her dead.
Isabella took it all, eyes red as she coaxed:
“Calm down. Your health matters.”
Enraged, I screamed I’d make Adrian pay.
Isabella snappedslapping my face, voice venomous:
“Lucas, harm him, and I’ll make your life hell!”
Watching her defend her lover, hatred festered in me.
After that, Isabella stopped visiting. She flaunted Adrian everywhere.
My phone flooded with their bed photosanonymous taunts.
I trashed our home, shredded anything of Isabella’s, burned our wedding album.
After recovering, I used my dad’s connections to blacklist Adrian across Harbor City.
I exposed their affair publicly.
Suddenly, Adrian was a social pariah; Isabella lost major contracts.
She retaliated wildly, confining me to a hotel for months, tying me down, forcing herself on meall recorded.
She blurred her image but left mine clear, releasing the video online.
Adrian’s scandal faded; I became the joke.
Those who once flattered me cut ties overnight.
My dad’s failing company lost its last clientbankrupt for good.
The day my reputation died, Isabella freed me.
Seething with hatred, I stormed her company with a knife.
I injured Adrian, cut Isabella’s arm.
In my frenzy, she signed papers selling my dad’s company shares for peanuts.
His life’s workdestroyed in an instant.
I begged on my knees, invoking my dad’s kindness, pleading for her conscience.
Isabella looked down, sneering:
“Lucas, any debt I owed your family was repaid when I saved your dad’s company.”
“Hurt Adrian, and I’ll destroy you slowly.”
That day, I saw their son, Ryan.
I realized their affair began when I hired Adrian.
I had no wedding, no ringbecause Isabella feared upsetting Adrian.
Even those public love letters were Adrian’s decoys to deceive me, hiding their family.
I was their clown for years.
My heart felt nothingonly seething hatred.
That night, I planted bombs, ready to die with her.
That night, my daughter’s voice saved me.
I triggered the explosion, faked my death, and vanished from Harbor City.
Chloe sobbed uncontrollably. I wiped her tears and went to meet Mia’s school bus.
Chloe followed, voice hoarse from cursing Isabella as a monster.
But as I held Mia’s hand, I met a familiar gaze.
Isabella dropped her congee, pupils dilating as she stared at my daughter:
“Whose child… is this?”
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