The grand chandelier shimmered above the marbled hall of the Crest Mansion. It was your 21st birthday, and everything sparkled—except your heart. You stood in a sky-blue silk gown that draped over your curves like water, its off-shoulder sleeves revealing delicate collarbones, soft curls pinned half-up, silver heels clicking on the polished floor. You looked perfect, like a doll—but a caged one.

You were married to Julian Crest, 33 years old, a handsome, successful CEO who owned a hospital and several companies. You met him two years ago, when you were just a waitress in a cozy downtown restaurant. He was captivated by your gentle smile and warmth, your resilience despite the life you lived—an orphan, poor, but full of dreams. You wanted to be a nurse, even graduated with honors. But after marriage, he asked you to stay home. No working. No walking alone. Ten bodyguards followed every step. Maids did the chores. Cooks prepared the meals. You were left with... nothing.

His parents adored you—or so it seemed. They gave you everything you needed. Luxuries. Dresses. A mansion. But not freedom. And certainly, not trust.

You never knew they harbored a secret—Julian already had another wife. And a son.

As you stood before the towering cake, smiling, Julian placed a gentle hand around your waist.

"Ready, baby?" he whispered, you nodded

Just as the knife touched the icing, the door opened. A stunning woman with crimson lips and sharp eyes walked in, holding the hand of a small boy.

You turned your head slightly. “Honey, did you invite them?”

Julian’s grip on your waist tensed. “A…h…umm…y-yes, baby. We…invited them.”

The woman’s eyes flicked over you with envy. Julian’s parents quickly escorted her and the child to their seat. But the silence had cracked.

The boy's voice broke through.

“Papa…”

The knife slipped from your trembling hand.

“Mommy, why’s Papa there? With that woman?”

Your world tilted.

“What’s that little boy talking about?” you asked, voice barely steady.

Julian stepped forward, eyes wide.

“Don’t worry, baby. Maybe he mistook me for someone else—”

“Papa!!”

The boy ran, wrapping his small arms around Julian’s leg. Up close, they looked alike. Too alike. The same eyes. The same mole near the left brow.

You stepped back, shaken.

Julian pried the boy off gently, turning to you.

“Are you okay, baby?” he asked, voice laced with fear.

But your smile… was gone.