Chapter 2
Having sued Bianca before, I already knew her personal info.
I unlocked Brandon’s other phone. I found on that other WhatsApp account I had never seen before, there was only one
contact–Bianca.
Her name was saved as “Honey.”
The message was simple, yet unmistakably clear.
In the photo gallery, there were thousands of pictures–each one of them intimate.
It turned out that all of Brandon’s countless “business trips” were actually vacations abroad with Bianca and their child-
filled with luxury shopping and lavish spending.
The endless stream of large transfers and receipts for designer goods now felt like a cruel joke–mocking my ignorance.
And while Bella and I were asleep every night, he would sneak upstairs to Bianca’s room and spend the night with her.
But what really shredded my soul were the chat history:
“Bran, thank you for skipping that multi–billion–dollar deal to stay with me while I gave birth. With you here, I’m not afraid of
anything…”
“You’re not even a first–time dad, and you still built a whole playground just to hear your son call you ‘Daddy‘ more often?”
I thought back to the night I delivered Bella.
I was in labor for hours, alone in a sterile hospital bed, bleeding out while Brandon was just two blocks away entertaining
clients over dinner.
I was so scared I might die on that delivery table, so I had called him–terrified, begging him to come.
His answer?
“Ava, it’s just childbirth. Every woman goes through it. Even if I came, I can’t push for you. I don’t like doing performative
things.”
“You’ll be fine. Be strong. I’ll bring you a gift when I’m back.”
From the floor above, laughter echoed–birthday songs, party noises, Caleb’s voice calling his father. Every note burned
through me.
Bella had asked her dad to spend every birthday with her too.
But Brandon always refused her coldly.
“I’m busy. You’re six years old. You should know better than to cling to grown–ups all the time.”
Love and indifference. The contrast had always been there. I’d just refused to see it.
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I didn’t know when Brandon came home that night, only that by the time I woke the next morning, he had prepared an
elaborate breakfast.
“Ava, I made all of this myself. Come try it. Tell me if it’s good.”
I glanced at the table and nearly laughed out loud.
Yes, he did make it himself.
But I had seen those exact dishes in Bianca’s Instagram Story last night–these were just leftovers.
He sat across from me, his tone deceptively casual.
“By the way, Ava… were you asleep the whole time in the bedroom after I left yesterday? You didn’t happen to see anything
in the living room, did you?”
I looked at his probing expression and felt an even deeper sting of mockery.
“No, I was exhausted,” I said flatly. “I slept through the night.”
Hearing that, he let out a subtle breath of relief.
“You’ve been holding off on cremating Bella’s remains… wanting to get justice before laying her to rest. But now that we
know it was just an accident, maybe it’s time to let her go peacefully. Let’s hold the funeral tomorrow.”
“I’ve already informed the family. My mother’s back in town. We’ll take everyone out for dinner tonight. Tomorrow morning
we’ll go to the funeral home.”
Hearing that, I said nothing, but a deep bitterness and helplessness stirred within me.
Of course. The witnesses had been bribed by Brandon, and the evidence destroyed.
Even Bella probably no longer wished to remain in such a filthy world.
I had no one to blame but myself–for loving the wrong man with blind eyes.
The private dining room was already buzzing when we arrived.
I walked in and froze.
Brandon’s mother, Mary, sat at the center of the table, cuddling a five–year–old boy in her lap, coaxing him with sweets and
smiles.
Seeing Bianca still standing, Mary immediately pulled her down to sit beside her, chatting and laughing as if they were old
friends.
That seat used to belong to me.
I hadn’t expected they knew each other.
Brandon had never told me.
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The moment Bianca spotted me, she gave a sarcastic smile and said sweetly,
“Oh, Mrs. Whitmore, what did I tell you? Of course Ava would show up at an event like this.”
“You were just saying I should help Brandon host the guests as the lady of the house… maybe we should cancel that
idea.”
“After all, Ava’s still Brandon’s wife. If she gets jealous and falsely accuses me again, I couldn’t take that kind of risk.”
Mary shot me a scornful look, her tone dripping with contempt.
“What right do you have to be angry? All you gave this family was a worthless girl. That child’s death was a blessing–it saved us a fortune! And you had the nerve to accuse Bianca in court? Don’t you feel ashamed?”
“Useless thing. You even let someone beat you to the point you can’t have kids anymore. In this whole complex, why were you the one attacked? Maybe you’ve been messing around outside and brought this on yourself!”
“Bianca is the real deal. Gave birth to a son right off the bat. If it weren’t for her… Anyway, I’ve already decided–Caleb fits
right in with me. I’ve named him my honorary grandson. From now on, Bianca’s status in this family is equal to yours!”
Mary had always favored sons and belittled daughters.
Unlike families that cared about class and background, she had clawed her way out of poverty only because Brandon
made it big.
Back when Brandon had no money, she begged my family for investment. She used to fawn over me constantly.
But after his company went public, my family was framed and ruined.
My only brother fell from a cliff–his body never recovered. I became worthless to them.
Then she began to resent my education, my looks–said I was too wild, too independent.
A woman like me wasn’t easy to control.
She never liked me again.
Bianca covered her mouth and laughed sweetly, then led Caleb over to me.
She pulled out a few small bills–scattered tens and twenties–and held them out with a smile.
“Ms. Sinclair,” she said sweetly, “Even though you falsely accused me, I admit Caleb Whitmore was being naughty. This is a little something from us–for you and Bella. Please, do accept it.”
Chapter 2
