Chapter 3

3

"No, no... Nina, don't listen to them."

I covered Nina's ears, my heart heavy with bitterness. How was I supposed to explain this to her?

When Grant first started his business, we lived in a tiny office space that wasn't even a hundred square feet.

We couldn't afford employees, so I did everything―the admin, the accounting, the logistics.

To help him get clients, I swallowed my pride and begged every relative and friend I had.

I remember the day he signed his first big contract. He was so excited he spun me around and used his first profit to buy me a designer dress.

I saw how happy he was, so I never told him that the big client was actually a lifelong friend of my uncle.

Later, when the company took off and I got pregnant with Nina, Grant insisted I stay home.

"I'll take care of you from now on," he had promised. "You've suffered enough for me. It's time you enjoyed your life."

But look at us now.

I looked down at my old dress, which I had been wearing for three years.

Meanwhile, Grant was in a bespoke suit, and Vivian was draped in luxury brands.

They stood together, soaking up the admiration of the crowd, looking like the perfect couple.

And when I was called a nanny, not a single person doubted it.

"June, honey, I know life is hard," Vivian said, pulling a stack of cash from her designer handbag.

She held it out to me with a condescending smirk.

"I don't have much cash on me, but here's two thousand dollars. I don't know what your problem is, but take it."

"Buy a bus ticket back to whatever small town you came from. Maybe use the change to see a psychiatrist."

As she stepped closer, she leaned in so only I could hear her.

"June Harrison, so what if you met Grant first? The one who isn't loved is the real mistress."

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, she suddenly let out a fake gasp and loosened her fingers.

The bills slapped against my face before fluttering to the floor.

Vivian didn't look sorry at all. Her eyes were full of spite.

"Oops. My hand slipped."

The greasy VP spoke up again. "Mrs. Miller is so classy! Truly a woman of high character!"

Grant glanced at me briefly and commanded, "Pick it up and get out."

I started laughing, a cold, sharp sound.

"You think two thousand dollars can get rid of me? Grant, how do you think your startup landed those massive projects back in the day?"

"Every cent you've spent on Vivian and this bastard son is marital property. If I want it back, I'll take every last dime!"

Vivian sneered, looking at me like I was insane.

"What a vivid imagination. June, you should write books. Maybe you can recommend some of those 'alpha billionaire' novels you're obsessed with?"

"The 1950s are over, honey. Nobody cares about being the 'legal' wife anymore."

But I had hit a nerve with Grant. His face turned livid as he stepped toward me.

"June, don't you dare―"

SLAP!

The sound of my hand hitting his face echoed through the hall.

"Grant Miller, if you dare insult me again, or try to put another fake label on me, I will see you in court tomorrow!"