The abandoned warehouse on the outskirts reeked of rot and despair.

Inside, Amanda's belly was alarmingly swollen—grotesquely large.

She was going into labor.

Agonizing waves of pain tore through her, drenching her in sweat.

Suddenly—splash!

A basin of ice-cold water was dumped over her, soaking her from head to toe, making her shiver violently where she was tied to an iron pillar.

Before she could even catch her breath, a cruel voice cut through the air.

“Amanda, hand over the formula for the Nectar of Fragrance.”

Her bloodied face, carved with fresh wounds, lifted slowly. She stared in horror at the two people standing before her.

Barry. Carol.

One was the man she loved—the man she was engaged to.

The other, her cherished little sister.

And they had betrayed her. Together.

She was even carrying Barry's child.

Slap!

Before she could speak, Carol struck her hard across the face. The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth.

Carol sneered, her voice dripping with malice and triumph. “Amanda, that bastard in your belly isn’t even Barry’s. He never touched you. He’s mine—he’s always loved me!”

Amanda’s already pale face turned ashen with shock.

She remembered that night months ago. She’d been feeling ill, and Barry told her to wait for him in a hotel room.

She went, despite how awful she felt. But the moment she stepped in, she collapsed onto the bed—dizzy, disoriented.

The lights were never turned on.

And in the dark, a man she believed was Barry had taken her—over and over again.

But thinking back now, that man’s body had been strong and lithe, his movements powerful. He smelled fresh and clean.

Barry, however, had a bad back and always reeked of smoke.

Her mind reeled. A deafening roar filled her ears.

She hadn’t been with Barry at all.

She’d slept with a stranger.

“You think I’d let you go after you got yourself knocked up by some random man?” Barry’s cold, venomous voice snapped her back.

“I drugged you that night,” he confessed, eyes glinting with malice. “All I wanted was the formula. But you ran off and got yourself pregnant with another man’s bastard.”

Amanda stared at him, devastated. “It was you? You drugged me?”

Because she was pregnant out of wedlock, her adoptive mother had locked her up like an animal in a basement.

She’d waited for Barry to come. He never did.

Now she understood why.

The child wasn’t his.

And he—he had been sleeping with her own sister.

Together, the two of them had plotted to steal her formula.

A cold, bitter laugh tore from her throat. The pain in her body was excruciating, but nothing compared to the agony in her heart.

Her contractions came faster, harder.

She curled into herself, bound hands clenching tightly, sweat and tears sliding down her face.

“Amanda,” Barry said with a sneer, “Give us the formula, and I’ll spare you and your bastard. That child’s been growing inside you for months—can you really watch it die?”

Amanda’s vision darkened. Her surroundings blurred. Blood trickled from the corner of her lips, staining her already mangled face.

This was the man she had once loved.

He wanted her dead. And he didn’t care if her child died with her.

Every sweet word from the past—every shared dream—had been a lie.

“…I’ll give you the formula,” she rasped. “But you must spare my baby.”

She had to summon every last shred of strength just to say those words.

That child inside her… she already loved it.

She had looked forward to its birth, dreamed of holding it in her arms.

How could she bear to lose it now?

Amanda could barely keep her eyes open. Her strength was gone.

Carol glanced at her bulging belly and gave a cruel smirk. “Tell me the formula, and I’ll let your little monster live.”

For the sake of her child, Amanda caved. She whispered the formula.

Barry read it and smiled, his expression unreadable.

Then, in a cold, emotionless voice, he said, “Sorry, Amanda. You still have to die.”

Amanda’s eyes widened in horror.

Even now—even after giving him everything—he still wanted her dead?

“You’re a monster!” she screamed, voice hoarse and ragged.

She watched, helpless, as he lit a match and tossed it toward the corner of the warehouse.

Oil had been spilled everywhere. Flames surged up instantly, the fire racing toward her.

The heat was suffocating. The air, thick with smoke.

Carol laughed coldly. “Don’t worry, Amanda. On your way to hell, your freak baby can keep you company.”

Then, arm in arm, the two of them turned and walked away.

Amanda screamed after them.

“Barry! Carol! If I live—if I survive this—I will make you pay!”

Hatred blazed in her eyes, fiercer than the flames around her. Pain wracked her body, but it was nothing compared to the torment in her soul.

The fire licked at her skin, searing-hot and blinding.

But the pain only made her more lucid.

Terror, rage, and despair churned inside her, giving her one desperate will: to live.

She writhed against the ropes, slick with blood, her body a broken mess. Her stomach throbbed with agony.

She couldn’t die here.

She wouldn’t.

Blood dripped down her arms as she struggled. The rope cut into her flesh—until finally, it loosened.

She broke free.

She would survive.

She had to.

She would make those two monsters pay—in blood.

Amanda stumbled from the inferno, the collapsing warehouse crashing behind her.

Half-dead, she dragged herself toward the roadside, praying someone would hear her cry for help…

Six years later—

Cindale.

At the prestigious The Crown Platinum Hotel , an unusual wedding was taking place. There was no groom—only a bride.

The groom, Benjamin, had been in a car accident three months ago and had since fallen into a vegetative state. Doctors claimed he wouldn’t last even a month.

Benjamin was the youngest son of Old Mr. Schmidt, the head of the Schmidt family. Despite exhausting every possible method to save his son, the old man had failed to wake him up. In the end, he turned to one last resort—marriage for good luck.

As the most powerful family in Cindale, the Schmidts had plenty of options. Finding a woman whose birth chart matched Benjamin’s wasn’t difficult.

But what woman would willingly marry a man on the brink of death—one who even had a child from a previous relationship? And become a stepmother?

Everyone present at the wedding had come to watch the spectacle unfold.

“Old Mr. Schmidt must have gone senile. His son is sick and instead of hiring doctors, he’s relying on superstition?”

“He’s clearly obsessed with old beliefs. Just sit back and enjoy the show.”

The seats were full, yet every guest was murmuring about Benjamin and his condition.

When the auspicious hour arrived, the beautiful bride stepped out in a flowing white wedding dress, stunning the entire room.

A wave of awe swept across the hall as all eyes turned to the radiant woman.

Standing before the crowd, Amanda gave a soft, subtle smile. Under the lights, she gleamed like a star.

As her long, alluring eyes swept across the audience, they landed for a fleeting moment on Barry Schmidt and Carol. A shiver of hatred coursed through her body. She lowered her eyes slightly, hiding the intense loathing in them.

After six long years, Amanda was finally back.

Benjamin was the younger uncle of Barry, and her birth chart happened to be exactly what Old Mr. Schmidt needed.

She had successfully married into the Schmidt family—this was her first step toward vengeance.

The wedding ceremony was brief. In front of all the guests, she slipped on the wedding ring. The moment the ring was on, the ceremony was complete.

The entire time, Barry couldn’t take his eyes off Amanda. Something about her felt oddly familiar.

After the ceremony, Amanda was taken to the Schmidt family estate.

the Schmidt family residence was a luxurious manor nestled between mountains and water—serene, grand, and imposing.

The butler escorted her to her room, instructing her to remove her makeup and change before meeting Benjamin.

Sitting before the vanity, Amanda gazed into the mirror at her radiant reflection. After three long years of reconstructive treatment, her face was flawless again.

It wasn’t quite the same face from six years ago—most people wouldn’t recognize her. But it was still stunning.

Thinking back to what had happened six years ago, a searing hatred surged in her chest.

Snap— The brow pencil in her hand broke clean in half.

Back then, after escaping the fire, she had been saved by a benefactor and rushed to the hospital, where she gave birth to quadruplets. But her eldest was taken away immediately after birth.

Her face had been disfigured, and she had lost a child. Everything that had happened felt like it had been orchestrated behind the scenes.

All that pain—Barry and the Wilson family had inflicted it on her.

And now, it would all start with Barry.

She changed into a red evening gown that the servants had prepared and stepped outside, where the butler was already waiting.

The butler stepped forward respectfully. “Young Madam, I’ll take you to the Young Master’s room now.”

“Thank you,” Amanda replied calmly, neither humble nor arrogant.

The butler felt a growing sense of admiration. This new Young Madam had been obedient and composed since arriving.

Benjamin’s room was just next door. The butler opened the door and pointed to the man lying in bed. “That’s our Young Master.”

Amanda lowered her gaze.

The man lying there had features that looked sculpted by God himself—flawless and striking. Even unconscious, his powerful presence was undeniable.

The butler handed her a business card. “Madam, this is the private doctor’s contact. If anything happens to the Young Master, call this number.”

Amanda accepted it with a nod. After she thanked him, the butler left the room.

As the door closed, she heard the sound of the lock turning—it was clear she wasn’t meant to leave. This was, after all, their wedding night.

Looking around at the spacious room—with only a single bed and a man who couldn't even wake up—Amanda felt no threat.

She stood at the bedside, gazing at Benjamin for a long moment before sitting down. Then she calmly placed her fingers on his wrist and began to take his pulse.

A minute passed. Her brows furrowed slightly, and she turned to look sharply at the unconscious man, a trace of suspicion in her eyes.

She checked his pulse again—same result.

Silently, she moved her hand away, then rolled up her sleeve and removed a small pouch strapped to her arm.

From inside, she pulled out a silver needle and slowly inserted it into a spot near Benjamin’s throat.

Fifty seconds later, she removed it—and the faint shimmer of blue light on the needle’s tip made her eyes narrow slightly.

Such sophisticated technique…

She glanced down at Benjamin, hesitated for only a moment, then took out a pill and gently placed it in his mouth.

Then, picking up her phone, she sent a message to Cindy:

“Everything went smoothly. Take care of the three babies with Tara.”

The next morning.

After washing up, Amanda heard a hurried knock on the door.

From the sound of the knocking, Amanda could tell this visitor came with hostility.

She opened the door. Standing outside was Barry. The man wore a black suit, tall and upright like a pine tree, with gold-rimmed glasses resting on his nose. His demeanor exuded cold detachment and arrogance, his presence sharp and commanding.

Their eyes met. Amanda’s gaze remained calm and serene, but inside, hatred surged like roaring waves.

Barry had heard from the butler that his little uncle’s new bride was named Amanda, and had come over to see for himself.

At the wedding, he had thought the bride looked familiar. Then, upon hearing her name, he had hardly slept a wink that night.

Looking at the face before him now, the skin was flawless and delicate, pale and radiant. It couldn’t possibly be Amanda. It must just be a name coincidence. After all, the Amanda from six years ago had died in that massive fire.

“You’re called Amanda?” His tone carried not a shred of respect.

Beautiful, indeed.

But unfortunate.

Who knows how many days she has left?

“Who are you?” Amanda’s eyes glanced over him lightly, her peach blossom eyes tilting up slightly at the corners—a simple movement, yet utterly lethal.

Staring at her breathtaking face and hearing that alluring voice, Barry was momentarily captivated.

“I’m Barry, your little uncle’s nephew,” he introduced himself.

As long as she wasn’t the Amanda from six years ago, he could relax. That Amanda had suffered deep, disfiguring burns—if she had survived at all, she couldn’t possibly have such a stunning face now.

A flicker of annoyance crossed Amanda’s face.

“Get lost! Then don’t disturb your little uncle’s rest!”

Bang— the door slammed shut in one smooth motion.

No doubt—this woman was not to be messed with.

Amanda’s lips curved into a mysterious smile.

The game had only just begun.

Barry, just wait. From this moment on, peace will no longer be a part of your life.

Outside, Barry was seething.

This woman dared treat him like this?

His assistant, standing not far away, was indignant on behalf of his boss.

“Boss, she’s only just married into the family and already shows such an attitude. Where does she get that confidence?”

“She should know her place. Acting so arrogantly in front of you—who does she think she is?”

Barry looked at the closed door and sneered coldly.

“Arrogant indeed.”

In Cindale, there had never been a woman who dared speak to him like that.

This woman had provoked him.

“She’s your little uncle’s woman—your aunt. Isn’t a bit of arrogance in front of you her right?”

A calm yet commanding voice, even more arrogant than Amanda’s, came from nearby.

Barry turned and met the challenging gaze of the man who had just arrived.

He stood over six feet tall, dressed casually in a white shirt and black pants. His air was refined and elegant like the moon, his features sculpted like a painting. His peach blossom eyes were coolly distant, his nose well-shaped, and his lips red and soft like pearls.

Seeing him, even Barry couldn’t help but feel a hint of respect.

This man was Brad, Benjamin’s right-hand man.

“Mr. Spader, we won’t disturb my uncle’s rest then,” Barry said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

His voice was polite, but inwardly he seethed.

Soon, he would take Benjamin’s place.

Soon, Benjamin would be dead.

Brad said nothing, simply watching Barry leave.

Then he pushed the door open and entered.

What met his eyes was a stunningly beautiful face, arms wrapped around her knees, looking despondent and miserable—clearly the look of someone unwilling to marry just to "ward off bad luck."

He gave her a quick glance, then scolded, “Is this how you care for Benjamin, as his wife?”

Still reeling from her encounter with Barry, Amanda was jolted back by Brad’s voice. She slowly stood and looked him over.

Her eyes, bright like black gemstones, blinked once.

And then she dropped to her knees—instantly.

This man… was a dream come true!

How could someone be so handsome?

Those lips—surely soft and kissable.

Those legs—so tempting. She mustn't stare too long, or she might just pounce.

Amanda had always been weak against beautiful men.

“Sorry… I haven’t quite gotten used to the role of wife yet,” she murmured, voice low and filled with sorrow.

Brad couldn’t help but take another look at her.

She was almost too beautiful.

Then his gaze shifted to Benjamin lying on the bed, and he spoke calmly,

“To be his wife is your honor.”

He would find Samantha as soon as possible—Samantha could save both Benjamin and Mark.

Amanda detected the sadness in his voice.

It was like she had just stolen his boyfriend.

So full of jealousy!

She was a little shaken. How could such a gorgeous man… be gay? Life was so unfair.

“Sorry for stealing your boyfriend. I just need to borrow him for two months. I’ll return him untouched,” she said sincerely.

But Brad suddenly looked at her like he’d seen a ghost.

“What did you just say?” Brad’s face turned ashen.

The two bodyguards behind him: “……”

This woman was something else. According to her, Mr. Spader was gay.

The worst part was, they couldn’t even laugh out loud about it. She was too wicked!

Amanda immediately backed down, putting on a sheepish smile.

“I didn’t say anything. I was just saying… you’re really handsome. I wasn’t complimenting you per se, just… reminding you that all my aunts and cousins adore men like you.”

Her voice grew quieter under Brad’s sharp gaze.

She had survived death once, but deep down, she was still a woman who adored pretty men.

Brad gave her a long, penetrating look.

Was that… her way of praising him?

Hmph. A woman like this, clearly full of sweet talk. Totally unreliable.

“Take good care of Benjamin. If anything happens to him… I’ll sell you to human traffickers.”

He issued the threat coldly.

The old man had clearly lost his mind. Did he really think something like this could wake Benjamin?

Amanda glared at him.

Sell her?

She should be the one selling him! With a face like his, she’d find him a flock of exotic girls he’d never even dreamed of, and still make a fortune.

After seeing Brad off, Amanda turned around and looked at Benjamin, lying unconscious on the bed.

Saving him wasn’t difficult.

The problem was she couldn’t let anyone know she had medical skills.

The moment people found out, Barry would start suspecting her true identity.

Still, she was surprised to learn that Benjamin had a son. She hadn’t seen him since she arrived.

Amanda went downstairs and saw the butler giving instructions to the staff.

Upon seeing her, the butler respectfully greeted,

“Madam!”

She looked at him and asked, “Butler, I heard the young master has a son. Why haven’t I seen him?”

The butler’s expression changed subtly.

He looked at Amanda, both worried and pained.

“Madam, the young master’s son… he’s blind. And he hasn’t eaten in three days.”

“Since the master’s accident, the little young master has been staying alone in the guest wing during the day and only comes over at night to sleep beside him.”

“These past few days, for some reason, he’s completely stopped eating. Everyone’s saying he’s refusing food because he wants to follow the master in death.”

Amanda felt her heart tighten.

What kind of child would have such thoughts?

The butler let out a sigh.

And it was true—they didn’t even know if the master would wake up.

The old man had tried everything. He was nearly ready to sacrifice his own life to trade for Benjamin’s.

“What’s the little master’s name?” Amanda couldn’t help but ask.

The butler replied, “Mark.”

That name… sounded remarkably similar to her own children’s!

Her three babies: Tod, Ted, and Terry.

Just then, a maid walked in with a tray of nutritional food.

“Butler, the little young master still won’t eat.”

Amanda turned to the butler.

“Why don’t you let me try?”

The butler’s eyes lit up.

“Of course, Madam!”

After telling her where the guest wing was, the butler watched as Amanda took the food tray and headed there, her steps heavy.

At a corner, she suddenly overheard a conversation.

“The poor little master… hasn’t eaten in three days.”

“Yeah. That day, after Miss Lowe spoke to him, who knows what she said—but after that, he stopped eating.”

“Keep your voice down! Don’t let anyone hear you. First they said the master’s accident was caused by sabotage, and now you’re bringing up Miss Lowe? There’s no proof of anything. Let’s go, don’t make me late for dinner.”

As the voices faded, a trace of doubt flickered in Amanda’s eyes, quickly replaced by cold suspicion.

Miss Lowe?

Who was she?

What did she say to the child?

There was definitely something fishy about Benjamin’s car accident.

Pushing the thoughts aside, Amanda reached the guest wing. She pushed open the door—and saw paintings lined up against the wall: landscapes, animals, all incredibly lifelike.

Did the child draw all these?

A soft smile appeared at the corner of her lips.

What a talented child.

After a brief look around, she spotted a thin, frail little boy sitting in a corner with his back to her.

He wore a white shirt and black pants—stylish and cool.

As soon as he heard someone come in, his head tilted slightly, then he roared in anger:

“Get out! I said I’m not eating!”

The moment Amanda saw his face, the tray of food in her hands dropped to the floor with a loud crash.

Amanda stared in shock at the boy who looked exactly like her three sons.

This was her eldest!

A searing pain gripped her chest, and she gasped sharply, her whole body weak as she looked at the boy in the corner—his big eyes lifeless and dull.

The butler had said… he couldn’t see.

She never dreamed she would find her son so soon.

The mix of joy and anguish surged through every fiber of her being.

In the soft morning light, tears streamed down her pained face like a broken dam.

“What are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you to get out?!”

Mark’s handsome little face was full of fury. After not eating for three days, his lips were cracked, and he looked extremely frail.

Amanda walked toward him step by step, suppressing her heartache as she gently tried to hold him.

The sudden embrace was light, but strangely warm.

Mark struggled a bit, then stopped.

He liked this feeling—it was warm, and she smelled nice.

“Baby, if you don’t eat, Daddy will worry… and Mommy will worry too.”

At the word Mommy, his expression grew colder, his emotions spiking as he shouted,

“I don’t have a mom! And my dad doesn’t want me anymore! So what’s the point of living?”

Tears silently rolled down Amanda’s face.

She tightened her hold on her son, her heart aching so badly she could hardly breathe.

Wiping her tears, she held her long-lost child close. At this moment, all the pain was worth it.

“You have a mother. Of course you do. She just… had no choice but to leave you.”

Mark froze.

He had a mother?

She left him because she had to?

It took a while for his emotions to settle.

Then, turning his head slightly, he asked in a cold voice, “Who are you?”

Amanda hesitated, unsure how to answer.

How could she explain to Mark… that she was his mother?

“Mark, I’m Amanda. Don’t worry, your dad will be okay. You’ll be okay too. Once you’re better… you’ll get to see your mom.”

That should give him a reason to hope.

Boom!

Something exploded in Mark’s mind.

He was stunned, his little face full of confusion and disbelief.

“Mommy”—that word was so foreign to his world.

And now someone was telling him… his mom might come back?

Amanda saw his small body tremble slightly.

Her heart ached even more.

“I don’t have a mom! She’s dead!”

Mark shouted angrily, like he was throwing a tantrum. He even pushed Amanda away.

She bit her lip.

She knew he’d be upset.

She also knew… he wouldn’t recognize her.

“Mark, how about I cook something delicious for you? Your dad’s going to get better. And your mom… she’s coming back. Trust me, okay?”

Her voice was soft, gentle.

Suddenly, Mark blurted,

“My dad… he’s really going to be okay?”

It was both a hope—and the reason he kept living.

“Mark, believe me. I’ll save him. I’ll wake him up within ten days. And within half a month, I’ll fix your eyes too.”

“But you have to trust me—and don’t tell anyone that I can do medicine, okay?”

“You really can heal my dad? And my eyes too?”

His voice trembled with emotion, eyes wide even though they saw nothing.

He was serious—desperate for hope.

His father had taken him to many doctors, but none could fix his eyes.

Amanda nodded solemnly, her throat tight with emotion.

“Mark, trust me. Wait here. I’ll go make you something delicious.”

This time, Mark didn’t refuse.

If his dad could live—then he couldn’t die.

He listened to the sound of her footsteps fading into the distance and hugged himself tightly.

Would Mommy really come back?

Did that woman just now… know where Mommy was?

He wanted to get better.

He wanted to find her.

And ask her—what was her reason for leaving?

The small boy curled up into a ball, sadness engulfing him.

Half an hour later, Amanda brought up the food she had prepared.

Just as she reached the door, she heard harsh, taunting voices from inside.

“Hey, blind kid—how’d that mud taste earlier?”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re blind, so even if we fed you mud, you wouldn’t know! Just stay hidden in this little wing and starve to death.”

“Heh, my dad said your dad’s dying anyway. Great-grandpa’s already picked out a new stepmom for you. Stepmonsters are scary. You’ll probably die too. Soon, the whole Schmidt family will belong to my dad!”

Bang!

Amanda kicked the door open.

Inside, three kids turned to look at her in shock and terror.

“Whoa! Mark, your stepmom’s here. She’s so scary!”

One of the boys looked at Amanda’s fierce expression and was so frightened he nearly cried.

Amanda noticed the dirt smeared across her son's small face. A cold glint flashed through her peach blossom eyes—sharp, aggressive, and dangerous.

All three kids were stunned into silence.

“Apologize to Mark!”

Her sudden roar shook the room, and the atmosphere instantly turned still and tense.

The little girl standing nearby burst into tears. “Hmph! I’m not apologizing to a blind brat! He’s not just blind—he’s mute too! I’ve never heard him speak!”

“Shut up!”

Amanda glared at the three children, her expression murderous.

Is this how they’ve been treating Mark all this time?

Heartache surged through her chest.

“Apologize. If you don’t, then all three of you are going to eat dirt before you leave.”

She towered over the three eight- or nine-year-old kids like a queen holding court.

Gently, she pulled out a tissue and wiped the mud off her son's face.

Mark kept his eyes down, cheeks puffed up.

In the past, whenever he was bullied, he just endured it quietly.

Now that someone was protecting him… he felt a little out of place.

“Hmph! We’re not apologizing. Why should we say sorry to a blind kid? My mom says he’s going to die soon anyway.”

Charlie Schmidt—the son of Benjamin’s eldest nephew—had always loved picking on Mark.

Amanda looked at the three spoiled brats with calm disdain.

They were arrogant, fearless, clearly used to getting their way.

She grabbed a handful of mud off the ground, her crimson lips curved into a cold smile. Her eyes were sharp and merciless.

“Fine. Then you can eat dirt before you go.”

She shoved the mud into their mouths one by one.

The terrified kids started crying and ran off screaming.

Amanda didn’t spare them a second glance.

She didn’t go looking for trouble, but the rest of the Schmidt family certainly wouldn’t go easy on her anyway.

Getting justice for her son felt amazing.

After helping Mark rinse his mouth with clean water, she proudly brought out the food she’d made.

“Baby, I made honey-glazed chicken bites, crispy cod nuggets, pan-seared tofu, and cabbage soup. Let’s eat first, okay?”

Mark was a little surprised.

So… she really was his stepmom.

Grandpa must have gone senile to marry this woman to Dad.

But this time, Mark didn’t act up.

He knew someone would be coming soon to cause trouble. If he didn’t eat now, he’d go hungry tonight.

He hadn’t eaten in three days—and he was truly starving.

Besides, he needed to get better so he could go find Mom!

Amanda fed him shrimp porridge first, then gave him bites of the other dishes.

As he ate, Mark’s eyes turned red.

It was so good.

He even suspected that the food he’d eaten before was the reason he lost his sight.

But now… he was already blind.

They fed him whatever they wanted. He had no choice but to eat it.

Amanda watched as he finished every bite, her heart glowing with joy.

“Baby, let’s go rest now, okay?” she asked gently.

Mark didn’t refuse, letting her carry him.

There was a good show coming—he didn’t want to miss it.

Amanda didn’t know her five-year-old son was deceptively cunning.

If it weren’t for his blindness, those bratty Schmidt family kids wouldn’t dare bully him.

Back then, he’d made those same brats cry for days.

Even if the adults didn’t understand him and saw him as a little monster, he didn’t care.

His father was the ruler of Cindale’s business world—the power behind the mighty Schmidt Empire.

As his son, how could he let himself be easily bullied?

Mark didn’t say a word the whole time.

Even while bathing, he was tense and silent.

Amanda gently bathed him, dressed him in clean clothes, and carefully dried his hair.

Looking at her sweet-smelling little boy, her throat grew tight.

“Mark, let’s get some rest.”

Finding her son so quickly after arriving—tonight, she probably wouldn’t be able to sleep from sheer happiness.

Mark clenched his little fists and gave a faint nod.

He liked her embrace—it was warm.

Amanda carried him over and gently placed him on the bed beside Benjamin.

The bed was big, but she didn’t dare lie next to him.

She turned to ask the butler to bring her some bedding—but then—

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A pounding came at the door.

Mark said coolly,

“Hmph. You’re in trouble.”

He was curious to see how she’d handle this.

After all, Charlie’s grandmother… was a terrifying old witch.

Amanda couldn’t help but feel a bit helpless as she watched the little guy gloat mischievously.

Everything was going just as she’d planned. The ones at the door—no doubt—had to be Barry’s mother, Delphine Monroe.

The Schmidt family was a century-old aristocratic clan. In recent years, under Benjamin, it had risen to even greater power.

Benjamin had clawed his way to the top through bloody internal strife and ruthless scheming, eventually becoming the family’s ruler.

He was now the legendary Mr.Ben of Cindale’s business empire.

Although the Lowe, Sanchez, and Monroe families were also prominent in Cindale, compared to the Schmidt family, they were worlds apart.

The car accident that had nearly taken Benjamin’s life—there was definitely more to it. The most likely suspect was Barry.

That man had terrifying ambition.

Everything Amanda had done earlier in the day had been for this very moment.

BANG BANG BANG!

Amanda opened the door and saw three elegantly dressed women standing outside.

Leading them was none other than Delphine, Barry’s mother.

She wore a peach-colored dress, beautiful and poisonous, graceful and arrogant—like a queen from a bygone era.

Amanda had seen Delphine years ago. A calculating, venomous woman.

Standing in the doorway now, Amanda’s face was frosty, her eyes cold and sharp as blades. Internally, she was fully on guard.

Delphine narrowed her eyes haughtily at her. This face—it resembled Amanda, but wasn’t quite Amanda.

“You’re called Amanda?” Her cold voice held a commanding air.

Amanda nodded slightly, lips curled in a faint, indifferent smile. “Yes. I am Amanda.”

Her tone was calm and composed—neither humble nor arrogant.

Delphine narrowed her eyes further, scrutinizing her for a long moment. Her temperament… indeed resembled the real Amanda—naturally proud, unyielding even in death.

“You made my grandson and granddaughter eat dirt. How do you plan to resolve this?”

Her voice was aggressive, her gaze sweeping disdainfully across Amanda.

A sharp gleam lit up Amanda’s peach blossom eyes.

“They fed dirt to Mark. Three kids bullying one—shouldn’t I be the one asking you how to resolve this?”

The air instantly became tense and hostile.

“You little b*tch, how dare you talk back to my mother?”

Cecilia, Delphine’s daughter, glared at Amanda with growing arrogance.

Amanda smiled faintly at her. “They say the Schmidt family is full of cultured, well-mannered elites. I just married in, and I must say—this is truly eye-opening.”

Cecilia sneered, looking her up and down. “People like you don’t deserve manners.”

Before Amanda could reply, Charlie’s shrill voice cut in, filled with fury.

“Grandma! Kick her out! Didn’t you say stepmothers are the worst? And that blind brat Mark is about to die anyway. Once he’s gone, I’m next in line to inherit everything!”

Spoiled rotten, Charlie had never learned proper restraint and didn’t care about timing or propriety.

He was three years older than Mark and constantly threw his weight around.

Hearing this, Delphine was livid. She shot a deadly glare at her grandson.

That wretched woman—how did she raise a child like this? Saying such things out loud in front of everyone?

Among the visitors was also Benjamin’s second sister-in-law.

She raised a mocking eyebrow. No wonder. No wonder Charlie was so brazen.

“Eldest Sister-in-law, what a bold kid you’ve raised,” she quipped sarcastically.

“Shut your mouth! You better not say a word about what you heard,” Delphine hissed at her, eyes sharp as daggers.

If word got out, her terrifying father-in-law would cause a huge scene.

Just then, a little girl standing in the back chimed in urgently, “Mommy, this woman fed me mud! Hit her, Mommy!”

That was Debbie, Cecilia’s daughter. Cecilia had brought both her children with her today on a visit home.

Seeing Amanda’s beautiful, refined face, Cecilia felt a pang of jealousy.

She glanced at the servant holding a bowl of mud behind her, and smiled maliciously.

“Amanda, I brought a whole bowl of mud just for you. Eat it, and I’ll let this go.”

Amanda raised her eyebrows, her tone light and unhurried.

“It was your children who went to the west wing to bully Mark. Why should I eat dirt? If anyone’s eating mud today, it should be the undisciplined kids you raised.”

The atmosphere instantly turned icy.

Cecilia hadn’t expected this powerless, status-less woman to have such a spine.

Not only did she talk back, but her calm and composed demeanor made Cecilia feel humiliated.

Erin, sensing things were getting out of hand, stepped forward to smooth things over.

She smiled at Amanda, “Amanda, Cecilia… this isn’t going anywhere. Let’s bring this before Father and let him decide what’s right.”

That was exactly what Amanda had been waiting for.

In the current Schmidt family, the old man’s word was law.

“Fine. Let’s go see the old master,” Amanda agreed crisply, then turned and picked up her son, walking straight out the door.

Delphine shot a cold glare at Erin—that woman always tried to play peacemaker.

Did she not know exactly what kind of people her grandson and two grandchildren were?

Now that they were bringing this matter to the old master, things might not turn out in her favor.

She had done it on purpose!

But Amanda was far too arrogant. Someone needed to put her in her place—and who better than the old master? As long as he didn’t side with her, how long could she last in the Schmidt family?

This was also a good opportunity to observe where the old master stood on things.

A bride brought in just to ward off misfortune really thought she was something?

The night was deep and still, only occasionally disturbed by the sound of footsteps.

The group made their way toward Rosewood Garden, where the old master resided.

No one noticed the moment when Benjamin, lying on his bed, suddenly opened his eyes, then slowly closed them again—so fast it was almost an illusion.

On the way there, Mark glared and said coldly, “I won’t help you.” His little face was taut with defiance.

Amanda couldn’t help but laugh. She gently pinched his small nose, her gaze full of affection.

“I don’t need your help. I came to protect you, baby.”

Upon hearing that, Mark felt a sudden warmth in his heart.

In that moment, he thought: If Mom left because she had no choice… maybe I shouldn’t hope she’ll come back.

Everyone here was selfish.

Each and every one of them wanted him and his father dead.

They soon arrived at Rosewood Garden, a quiet and peaceful place.

The old master was sitting in the main hall, sipping tea.

As the group entered, Amanda kept her eyes down demurely.

The old man’s expression darkened as he took in the commotion. What are they making a fuss about this late at night?

Then he noticed Amanda standing at the front. She looked slightly aggrieved. He frowned and asked, “Amanda, what’s going on?”

Amanda lowered her eyes and glanced at him, hesitant to speak, looking like she was holding back something difficult to say.

“Great-grandfather,” Charlie blurted out, “this woman fed us mud. So we brought mud for her to eat too! Grandma said to kick this little tramp out! Auntie brought a whole bowl of mud for her to eat!”

Just as Amanda had expected, the idiotic Charlie would speak up on her behalf without even realizing it.

Delphine shot a glare at her foolish grandson. Useless!

She turned to the old master, putting on a composed smile. “Father, it’s like this. The three children came running back home crying, saying Amanda fed them mud. I was just too angry and went to confront her. I never said those things. The children must have misunderstood.”

Eunice jumped in, fanning the flames. “Grandfather, Amanda is way too arrogant. She actually thinks she’s some high-and-mighty young madam of the Schmidt family. Feeding my kids mud? Grandfather, we should throw her out. What good is a woman like her? Even Uncle won’t like someone like that!”

The old master narrowed his eyes at Amanda, who still had her head bowed in silent grievance. She looked well-behaved, like someone who wouldn’t do such a thing.

“Amanda, you tell me. What happened?”

Then he saw Mark in her arms—his eyes lit up.

That child! He normally couldn’t even get close to him. And yet he let Amanda carry him?

It seemed Amanda was even better than he had imagined.

Amanda hesitated, bit her lip, and finally said in a quiet, pained voice:

“Dad, I did feed them mud. But things weren’t the way they said. The three of them ganged up on Mark, and when they refused to apologize, I gave them mud as punishment.”

“Heh... Amanda, you’re really good at twisting the truth,” Eunice sneered. “Clearly you wanted to assert dominance the moment you stepped into the Schmidt family. But taking it out on children? You’re downright vicious.”

She couldn’t stand women like Amanda—ones who looked delicate but had pride running deep in their bones.

Now that Benjamin was presumed dead, the Schmidt family’s power might soon be divided. And here Amanda was, stirring the pot. No one was going to tolerate her.

Delphine jumped in too: “Father, this Amanda is out of line. I ask you to uphold justice for my three grandchildren. Forcing them to eat dirt—it’s traumatized them! This could seriously affect their emotional development!”

Amanda gave her a cold glance, voice slow but steady:

“Madam, if you want to talk about who’s really twisting the truth… well, the evidence speaks for itself, doesn’t it?”