Chapter 1

In the sixth year of her marriage to Damian Ingram, Penelope Harmon stumbled upon two kindergarten enrollment applications tucked inside a folder in his study. On each form, a small two-inch photograph displayed an innocent face. The two children looked almost exactly like Damian. The sight made Penelope feel as though she had plunged into an icy pit. She and Damian had been married for years, yet they had no children of their own. In the "parent/guardian" section, a name leaped out at her like a curse—Jasmine Rowe. Eight years before, Damian got into a devastating car accident and desperately needed a heart transplant. It was Jasmine who had signed the donation consent form on behalf of her mother, saving his life. From that moment on, Jasmine began weaving herself into Penelope and Damian's lives. When Damian learned Jasmine had no family left, he took her in as his god-sister. Later, when she struggled to find work after graduating, he hired her as his personal secretary. They spent more time together than Damian ever did with Penelope, his childhood sweetheart. Even their wedding was delayed when Jasmine couldn't attend due to severe period cramps. It wasn't until Penelope threatened to call off the engagement that Damian finally agreed to fire Jasmine, delete her contact information, and swear never to see her again. Penelope had believed that would be enough to safeguard their marriage. She never imagined she was walking into a betrayal even deeper and far more cruel. Her vision blurred as she read the address on the applications. She followed it to a gated villa community. What she saw there made the cold seep into her bones all over again. Damian was bending down, lifting a little boy high into the air. "Daddy, Samson wants to go higher!" At his feet, a little girl with the same features pouted in protest. "Daddy, you're playing favorites! Sienna wants a turn, too!" Penelope's ears rang. Samson… Sienna… Those were the very names Damian had picked out for their child when she was pregnant five years ago. Not far away, Jasmine appeared, carrying an afternoon tea set. She placed it with careful precision before Warren Ingram and Emma Aguilar, Damian's parents. The warm, harmonious scene before her stabbed at Penelope's eyes like a blade. Her mind pulled her back to when she was ten, the year her parents divorced. She had run away from home, hiding beneath a pedestrian bridge. It was Damian who had found her there. He stayed with her through the rain and hunger, refusing to leave her side. "Penelope, don't be scared. As long as I'm here, you're not alone. When I grow up, I'll give you a real home." Now, the "home" Damian had promised so often no longer included her. Once, though, he had been willing to risk his life for her. Eight years ago, a professional racecar driver pursued Penelope relentlessly and ultimately challenged Damian to a race. Knowing he had no real chance of winning, Damian resorted to modifying his car with an unstable suspension system. The race ended with him going over a cliff. Every bone in his body had shattered, and a long steel rod had nearly pierced his heart. Six years ago, when he proposed, Damian had climbed Mount Aether—over 20,000 feet high—for a live global broadcast. "I want to be as close to death as possible to prove my love for you to the whole world. Penelope, even if the world falls apart, my heart for you will never change." Back then, she had been his entire world. Now, only six years into their marriage, he was hiding another woman in a lavish home, building a new little family with her. Penelope staggered as she turned away, unsure how she even made it back home. The moment she stepped through the door, her phone rang. Damian's voice came through, warm and casual. "Sorry, honey. There's an important meeting at the company tonight, so I can't come home for dinner. Be good, okay? Even if I'm not there, you still have to eat. Don't you dare skip a meal." Penelope gripped her phone so tightly that her knuckles whitened. The thought of Damian being with Jasmine right now made her stomach churn, and she had to fight the urge to throw up. "Honey? Are you not feeling well? Don't move. I'll come home right now." Less than half an hour later, Damian was back. "Did you eat something bad again? Your stomach's always been weak. Don't eat random things outside." The worry and panic in his eyes felt so genuine that, for a fleeting moment, Penelope wondered if everything she'd seen earlier had been nothing more than a terrible dream. But her rational mind cut through the haze. It was all real. It wasn't just Damian. Warren and Emma, the entire Ingram family, had been in on the deception. Penelope's nails dug into her palms. "Isn't there a saying going around online? No matter how good the food at home is, if you've never tasted the crap outside, you'll think it smells amazing." For a split second, panic flickered in Damian's eyes, but he quickly smothered it. He reached out, pinching her cheek with mock playfulness. "Well then, to win over my princess' stomach, I guess I'll have to figure out how they make that 'crap' outside." The next day, a dozen world-famous chefs arrived at their house. Damian drew Penelope into his arms, his voice low and tender. "Besides some of the top names in fine dining, I've also invited top chefs from around the world just for you. From now on, whatever you want to eat, you won't have to go out for it." He even hired three senior nutritionists to completely redesign her daily diet. To Penelope, it all felt like a cruel joke. Just yesterday, he had been somewhere else, playing the perfect father and gazing at another woman with the same deep affection he had once reserved for her. She pushed him away, her voice dry and hoarse. "Damian, I want a div—" Before the weight of her words could land, the shrill ring of his phone sliced through the air, drowning them out. It was Emma calling, yet Damian stepped out onto the balcony to take the call. Almost without thinking, Penelope followed. "I told you already, I've updated the will. Samson and Sienna will be the primary inheritors. You don't need to worry about that. Jasmine's been with me for years without any title or recognition, and this is just my way of compensating her and the kids. But Mom, Mrs. Ingram will always be Penelope. That will never change." Penelope's nails dug into her palms so hard that they hurt. Mrs. Ingram? His heart no longer belonged to her. What good was a hollow title? Damian spotted her out of the corners of his eyes and quickly ended the call, his tone turning apologetic. "My mom's been pressuring me about having kids again. I didn't want you to get annoyed, so I stepped away. Don't read too much into it…" She pressed her lips together, said nothing, and walked away. Moments later, she returned with a set of divorce papers, placing them in front of him. Damian frowned, puzzled. He had just started to open them when his phone rang again. One glance at the screen, and his expression shifted. Without a word, he flipped to the last page and signed his name. "Honey, I'm sorry. Something urgent came up at the office. Stay here and rest. Tonight, Leroy's throwing a birthday party. I'll send a driver to pick you up." He kissed her quickly on the forehead, then turned and walked out. Watching his retreating figure, Penelope felt a sharp ache pierce her chest. "Damian, I'm returning the title of Mrs. Ingram. From this moment on, I'm just Penelope Harmon, and you and I will have nothing to do with each other ever again," she thought.