“Have you forgotten how you clawed your way into my bed and became Mrs. Foster?”
I stared at him in fear, praying he wouldn’t say more.
Sure enough, when I looked up, Mom’s face was pale as death.
No—it wasn’t true.
Grandma once told me the truth.
Richard had been drunk that night and mistook Mom for his old flame.
She hadn’t resisted.
That night, I was conceived.
Richard agreed to marry her, to “take responsibility,” but in his heart, he never forgot another woman.
So whenever they fought, he dredged up the past—claiming Mom had seduced him and deliberately kept me.
That was why he hated her, and by extension, hated me too.
In recent years, he traveled abroad frequently.
Because overseas, there was always Olivia waiting in his thoughts.
Last month, Olivia divorced her foreign husband and came back with Emily. Richard smiled like I’d never seen before.
But now, watching Mom resist, his expression turned dark, his tone threatening.
“I’ll ask you one last time—are you making that snack or not?”
“No.”
Mom lifted her chin, clinging to her pride.
“Fine. Very well.”
Richard gave a thin smile and ordered the security guards to lock her in the basement.