"Dad," I said, voice trembling but resolute, "I agree to the arranged marriage. Please help me divorce Weston."
A sigh came from the other end.
"Denise, I've warned you. The Holmes family and Weston are both rotten to the core. Your birth parents abandoned you on purpose—how dare they later claim they 'lost' you by accident?"
Hearing the concern in his voice, I choked back a sob.
"I know, Dad. I was wrong. But I'll make them pay for what they did to me."
My adoptive father immediately sent his assistant, Mr. Lenon, to handle things.
"Miss," Assistant Lenon said, "we've already begun collecting evidence of Weston's crimes. The divorce agreement is being drafted as we speak."
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down.
Then I pulled out my makeup kit, concealing my swollen eyes.
Before I left him forever, I couldn't afford to let Weston see even a crack in my mask.
When I came home exhausted, I was met by a familiar embrace.
"Wife, you're finally back. Look—today's maternity meal, I made it myself."
"I had an emergency meeting and missed your prenatal check. I'm sorry."