Chapter 1

Just that very morning, Giselle Whitman had been forced to undergo electroconvulsive therapy. By afternoon, she was discharged, and someone was there to take her home from the psychiatric hospital.

As she stood at the entrance of the psychiatric hospital, Giselle couldn't help but squint. Six months of living in darkness had left her unaccustomed to the glaring summer sunlight.

The window of a gray Aston Martin parked across the street rolled down slowly, revealing the flawlessly handsome profile of her husband, Gavin Farrell.

Giselle swallowed, her eyes rimmed red. She didn't move.

Gavin shifted his gaze toward her and said frostily, "It's been six months and you still haven't learned to be good, Giselle? Come here."

Giselle stared at the man she had been in love with for the past 15 years, watching as rage surfaced in his eyes. Though immense grievance surged within her, she forced it down sharply.

She had let go of him. From today onward, she no longer loved him.

The Gavin she loved had long since rotted away. He had rotted on the day her stepsister, Chantelle Whitman, walked back into the Whitman family.

Giselle pulled open the passenger door expressionlessly, and the first thing she saw was the seat cover on the passenger seat. It was a soft pink and had a label that read "Darling Chantelle's Designated Seat".

A wave of dizziness hit Giselle, and she felt her knees go weak. As her stomach churned incessantly, a pang of nausea came over her.

She crouched by the roadside and threw up miserably, almost coughing up bile. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. Just how disgusting could they get?

Half a year ago, after she saw Chantelle send Gavin explicit photos, Giselle slapped Chantelle. As a result, Chantelle had an attack and was sent to the emergency room.

To make it up to Chantelle, Giselle had been forced to apologize. Naturally, Giselle would rather die than do that.

Hence, her own father, David Whitman, her four cousins, and Gavin resolutely had her locked up in a psychiatric hospital.

For the past six months, she had suffered all kinds of torment there. From electroconvulsive therapy, whippings, and humiliation to deprivation of food and clothes, Giselle had been through it all. Not a single person had come to visit her for the 180 days she'd been locked in the psychiatric hospital.

So it turned out that in the days that she'd been gone, Chantelle had already taken her place.

Giselle felt utterly disgusted. It felt as bad as if her toothbrush had been used to scrub a toilet and then placed back in her cup.

Gavin got out of the car, opened a bottle of mineral water, and handed it to her.

Her mouth tasted bitter and foul. She took the water and rinsed her mouth vigorously.

As Gavin stood behind her, his deep gaze was fixed on her back.

She had always been slender, but because of her petite frame, she had a soft plumpness. Whenever she ate something she liked, she would eat a lot, then grab his hand and place it on her belly. The delicate softness was a sensation that Gavin had etched in his memory.

But now, as Giselle crouched on the ground, the simple white T-shirt she wore, with its edges already yellowed, clung tightly to her back. It outlined her spine, making each bone stand out clearly. She had visibly lost a lot of weight. At five feet and seven inches tall, she probably weighed less than 90 pounds.

Gavin's heart twisted violently, wrenching with excruciating pain.

How had the woman he once cherished wasted away to such a state?

He reached his hand out, wanting to tell Giselle that as long as she no longer made things difficult for Chantelle, they could still be as close and happy as before. They could still be the perfect match in everyone's eyes.

But just as his hand was about to fall on her shoulder, Giselle, who was still crouched on the ground looking forlorn, suddenly rasped, "Gavin, let's get a divorce."

When Gavin heard that, the fingers on his outstretched hand trembled. He silently withdrew his hand.

His gaze turned sinister, and his tone was sharp and cold as he hissed, "Giselle, I won't take those words seriously, and you only get to say them once."

Giselle smiled. "Gavin, let's get a divorce. I won't ask for any of your assets. All I want is Poppy. You just have to pay child support on time. I don't want to live my life with you anymore. I'll step aside for you and Chantelle."

At that, Gavin yanked at his necktie irritably to loosen it. With his brow slightly furrowed, he said, "We'll talk about this at home. Get in the car."

Giselle slowly got up from the ground. Gavin grabbed her wrist, his palm warm against her icy skin. He stared in disbelief at the wrist in his hand. It was so thin it felt like he could easily break it with a snap. A pained expression flashed in the depths of his eyes.

Giselle saw it. But she found it laughable.

What was Gavin feeling sorry for? Why was his heart aching for her? Did he even deserve to feel remorse?

Had he not been the one who had sent her to the psychiatric hospital himself? Had he not been the one who personally instructed the doctors to make her learn her lesson? Had he really not known what sort of place a psychiatric hospital was?

Giselle got into the back seat. Not a single word was exchanged throughout the entire journey. She was exhausted. The electroconvulsive therapy from that morning still made her muscles twitch occasionally. It was beyond her control.

Fortunately for her, the electroconvulsive therapy that morning had been considered mild. They probably hadn't applied a very strong current because they knew someone was coming to take her home.

In the past, every time they performed electroconvulsive therapy on her, she would suffer from urinary incontinence.

Such scenes of the daughter of the Whitman family, the lady of the Farrell family, lying in a mess of filth, convulsing uncontrollably, had undoubtedly been recorded on the phones of countless people.

Giselle's silence throughout the journey made Gavin uncomfortable.

When they finally reached Crownridge Estate, the car had barely stopped, and Giselle hadn't even gotten out of it when she saw her daughter, Penelope Farrell, playing on the swing in the front yard with Chantelle.

Penelope was happily pushing Chantelle, who was sitting on the swing. A gentle breeze ruffled the hem of Chantelle's skirt around her calves as Penelope's peals of laughter resounded through the yard.

Giselle hurriedly pushed the car door open and stumbled out. She ran to the gate of Crownridge Estate, her fingers trembling as she pressed her fingerprint against the scanner, but it kept showing an error.

Gavin walked up from behind her, resting one hand on her waist and pressing the thumb on his other hand on the scanner. He casually explained, "The lock was changed recently. We'll get your fingerprint registered later."

Giselle pushed Gavin away and ran toward Penelope.

During her six months in the psychiatric hospital, Penelope was the only one Giselle couldn't stop worrying about.

Ever since Penelope was born, Giselle had taken a hands-on approach to raising her. She would personally pick out even something as trivial as a pair of socks, insisting on giving Penelope only the best.

180 days had Giselle missing Penelope to the brink of madness.

The director of the psychiatric hospital had once told her that if she got on her knees and apologized, he would bring her home to see Penelope. Giselle knew that it was more likely than not a lie, but for the slim chance that she might get to see Penelope, she still did as she was told without the slightest hint of hesitation.

As a result, her actions were recorded, and she ended up being mocked and beaten up by the director and the staff.

Penelope was Giselle's life.

The closer she got, the more cautious Giselle's steps became. Even her breathing slowed.

When she finally stood behind Penelope, Giselle choked out, "Poppy, Mommy's home."

Penelope froze for a fraction of a second before she whipped around sharply.

The moment her gaze landed on Giselle, Penelope shrieked, "Quick, Mommy Chantelle! Protect me! The madwoman is back!"

Chapter 2

The air seemed to freeze.

Giselle opened her mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. The terrified child before her was a haunting overlap with—and a devastating break from—the soft, adorable little girl who used to call her "Mommy" so sweetly.

Giselle clenched her hands tightly, her nails digging into her palms. She trembled.

Chantelle quickly got off the swing, crouched down, and gently said to Penelope, "She's Mommy! How could you call her a madwoman?"

Penelope clung to Chantelle's thighs and reasoned, "But she is a madwoman! Grandpa and Uncle Dylan said that only mad people get sent to psychiatric hospitals, and she was sent to a psychiatric hospital! So she is a madwoman!"

Giselle felt as if a fist were gripping her heart and twisting it cruelly. A sour, bitter taste surged up in her throat, almost suffocating her.

Gavin frowned. "Poppy, who taught you to speak to Mommy like that? Come here and apologize to Mommy!"

Hearing Gavin's stern reprimand, Penelope burst into tears. As she cried, she choked out between sobs, "I don't want her to be my mommy! I want Mommy Chantelle to be my mommy! Why did you have to come back? We'd been so happy before you came back!"

At just four years old, Penelope had hatred in her eyes that was as sharp as shards of ice, colder and more chilling than the high-voltage fences lining the psychiatric hospital.

The image of their reunion, which Giselle had anticipated every single day for 180 days, shattered as if struck by a storm. It felt as if a piece of flesh had been torn from her heart. Every breath she took tasted of a rusty, metallic sweetness.

Giselle slowly crouched down. "Honey, it's Mommy. Don't you remember how much you loved Mommy?"

Penelope glanced at Giselle, then decisively turned her head away. Clinging to Chantelle, she said in a childish, muffled voice, "I don't want you to be my mommy anymore. From now on, Mommy Chantelle's my mommy."

Giselle's voice suddenly sharpened. "Penelope Farrell!"

Everyone present was startled.

Gavin couldn't help but frown, reproaching her, "She's just a child. After being apart for six months, it's only natural for her to be scared and resistant toward you. Why are you taking it so personally? Poppy's your daughter!"

Giselle stared intently at Penelope. "Mommy is giving you one last chance. Will you come to Mommy, or will you stay with Chantelle?"

Penelope answered without skipping a beat, "I want Mommy Chantelle. You're a madwoman. You should be locked up in the hospital and have doctors watch over you properly. You need to be given shots every day, or you'll go crazy."

Giselle was exasperated. Penelope had always been intelligent. She could already speak clearly and express her needs accurately since she was one year old.

That was something Giselle had always been proud of. But she never expected the very linguistic talent Penelope possessed that she had been so proud of would now become a knife, each word stabbing deeply into her heart.

Her heart ached terribly. But Giselle knew that certain things were meant to be trimmed away.

Just as she was going to cut Gavin out of her life, she would also cut Penelope out of her life.

Giselle wiped away her tears, placed her hands on her knees, and slowly stood up. "Gavin, let's go and file for a divorce while the courthouse is still open. You can have custody of Poppy. I don't want her anymore."

Hearing this, Chantelle looked up, her eyes filled with disbelief. Her voice was gentle as she said, "Giselle, you love Gav so much. How could you possibly want a divorce? Besides, you've just got home, and the family is finally reunited. Let's not say such hurtful words."

Chantelle appeared magnanimous, as though she were being thoughtful and concerned about Giselle.

Gavin's expression darkened. He grabbed Giselle's wrist, forcing her back step by step. "Say that again."

Giselle lowered her gaze, her long, thick eyelashes fluttering slightly. "Let's get a div—"

Before the word "divorce" even escaped her lips, Gavin suddenly hoisted Giselle over his shoulder and carried her toward the living room.

Chantelle quickly took Penelope's hand and followed, chasing after Gavin.

Gavin carried Giselle into the master bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Chantelle outside.

Chantelle lowered her gaze.

…

In the master bedroom, Gavin pinned Giselle down on the bed.

Giselle struggled with all her might. "Let me go, or I'm suing you for rape!"

Gavin attempted to plant a kiss on her lips, but she turned away sharply, causing the kiss to land on her cheek instead.

Pinning both her wrists above her head with one hand, Gavin gripped her chin with the other. His voice was low and his eyes deep as he stroked her chin with his thumb. "This is just how married couples have fun in the bedroom. Besides, hasn't this always been what you wanted?"

Gavin let out a cold laugh. He slid a hand under Giselle's clothes. When his fingertips brushed against her delicate skin, they paused ever so briefly before a frenzy took over and replaced the hesitation.

Then, all of a sudden, a loud, violent pounding sounded on the bedroom door.

Gavin barked frustratedly at the source of the sound, "Get lost!"

From outside, the housekeeper, Jessica Baker, shouted, "Mr. Farrell, Ms. Chantelle's asthma is acting up!"

At that, Gavin jerked his hand, which had been on Giselle's waist, back. He hurriedly got up and rushed out, fastening the buttons on his shirt as he did so.

Giselle lay alone on the bed, laughing as she wiped the tears that escaped the corner of her eye.

Despite how aroused he'd been, hearing something about Chantelle was enough to make him stop immediately. Surely that was true love!

Giselle struggled to get up from the bed and walked into the walk-in closet. She pulled a suitcase from the bottom of the wardrobe and hastily stuffed in some clothes suitable for the season.

Suddenly, an intricate velvet box fell from the wardrobe.

As it hit the floor, the magnetic clasp popped open from the impact, revealing an exquisite pair of cufflinks.

These were the cufflinks she had picked up from the store the day before she was locked away in the psychiatric hospital. She had personally designed the cufflinks herself, intending to give them to Gavin on their anniversary.

But on their wedding anniversary, she had been imprisoned in the psychiatric hospital instead.

Giselle took a deep breath before crouching down and picking them up. The cufflinks gleamed with a soft luster.

A dark smile touched Giselle's lips. Without the slightest hesitation, she threw the cufflinks into the trash can. A gift that couldn't be given on time was just garbage.

Giselle closed the suitcase. As she turned to leave, she saw the decorative magnet that had a photo of the three of them stuck on the wardrobe door.

It pained her to see it. Her hand trembled as she reached out to touch Penelope's face in the photo. But just as her fingertips were about to make contact, Giselle decisively pulled her hand back.

Dragging the suitcase behind her, she turned and left.

As she went down the stairs and was passing through the living room, Giselle saw Penelope holding a vanilla ice cream in one hand and a chocolate ice cream in the other, eating with such gusto.

Giselle felt a pang in her heart. Penelope had always had a sensitive stomach. She shouldn't be eating so much ice cream at once.

Ultimately, Giselle failed to hold back and told Penelope, "You shouldn't be eating so much ice cream, Poppy. It'll give you a stomachache."

Penelope glared daggers at Giselle. "Had you not come back today, Mommy Chantelle wouldn't have had an attack. You always taught me to be kind. So why can't you be a little kinder yourself?"

Chapter 3

Giselle took one long look at Penelope. Then, she pulled her suitcase and walked out.

Watching Giselle's retreating figure, Penelope unexpectedly felt a faint sense of loss. For some reason, she felt unsettled and flustered.

Penelope turned to look out the door, but Giselle had already disappeared into the night. Penelope pressed her lips into a thin line. She didn't want a madwoman as her mother.

Mommy Chantelle had told her that the other kids at kindergarten would tease her for it. Penelope needed a mother like Mommy Chantelle—one who dressed beautifully and was pretty—so she could feel proud in kindergarten.

…

Giselle left Crownridge Estate penniless, but she couldn't even return to the Whitman residence now. Ever since Chantelle and her mother, Camille Archer, entered the household, they had taken control over the Whitman family.

Fortunately, Giselle's mother, Diane Gilton, had left an apartment unit under Giselle's name before she passed away. At least she now had a place to stay.

Giselle finally understood why women nowadays fought so hard to buy a house of their own before marriage. Even if it was just a mere 400 square feet, it could act as a safety net for any disgraceful, failed relationship.

When Giselle reached the apartment, she entered the bedroom and threw herself onto the soft bed. She was aching all over. Giselle buried her face deep in the blanket.

She had a fitful sleep the entire night and felt as if she had never truly left the psychiatric hospital.

On one of the nights right after she had been admitted, a security guard had actually snuck into her ward at 2:30 am, attempting to rape her.

Thankfully, Giselle had woken up in time. She kicked him right in the crotch, and the man passed out on the spot, blood soaking his pants.

Giselle knew his manhood probably couldn't be saved, but strangely, no one ever mentioned the incident again, as if the man from that night had never existed.

Regardless, the incident left Giselle severely traumatized. For the following six months, she barely slept well at night.

…

Early the next morning, when Giselle went to the bank, she discovered all her bank cards had been frozen.

"Well, if it isn't the high and mighty daughter of the Whitman family and the lady of the Farrell family? It's been such a long time!"

Giselle looked up and saw a pretty face with exquisite makeup. It was Mia Harper. She was a woman Giselle thoroughly despised.

With her arms crossed, Mia stood tall. Though she was initially of the same height as Giselle, her four-inch heels allowed her to look down at Giselle. "Look at you now, Giselle. You look like a ghost!

"Is this really the Giselle whose grades always kept me in second place? Is this what the marriage you took pride in brought you? So you went from being the most desired socialite in the whole of Kingswell to… such a wretched housewife?"

Mia and Giselle were of the same age, and they'd been in the same class since kindergarten.

Mia had always competed against Giselle in every aspect. But before this, as long as Giselle was present, Mia would always be in second place. Refusing to admit defeat, Mia had even tried pursuing Gavin. But it proved, once again, that she remained second best. She couldn't win Gavin over from Giselle.

But now, seeing the pitiful state that Giselle was in, Mia let out a cold laugh. "Thank goodness I didn't manage to steal Gavin from you back then. Otherwise, I'd be the homeless housewife today. I should be grateful that you didn't give him up back then."

Giselle's gaze was placid. In the past, Giselle would have fought Mia tooth and nail. But after six months in the psychiatric hospital, Giselle was no longer the same. "Are you done yet? If you are, I'll be leaving now."

Mia stomped her foot hard as she watched Giselle walk away. She had finally won against Giselle. But why did seeing Giselle like this make her so angry?

Mia turned to the bank teller. "What was she here for?"

The teller whispered, "She was here to withdraw money, Ms. Harper. But all seven of her bank cards were frozen."

Mia was at a loss for words.

Oh, Giselle. What did you even get out of this marriage?

…

As Giselle walked down the street alone, it suddenly struck her that after all these years growing up with Gavin, she didn't have a single friend of her own.

Then, out of nowhere, a car pulled up beside her. Giselle looked over.

When the door opened, Mia walked out holding 2,000 dollars in cash. She walked up to Giselle and slapped the stack of bills heavily into Giselle's palm. "I still hate your guts, but I can't stand to see a woman suffer. Here's 2,000 dollars. I'm lending it to you. You can pay me back later."

Then, without waiting for a response from Giselle, Mia got back into her car and left.

Giselle stood by the roadside, watching Mia flee as if she'd committed a crime. She didn't even have time to utter a word of thanks.

Lowering her gaze, Giselle looked at the wad of bills in her hand. 2,000 dollars wouldn't even have covered the cost of a meal for her in the past.

She also never imagined that the person who extended kindness at her absolute nadir would turn out to be her arch-rival.

Yes, they were bitter arch-rivals. Everyone in their social circle knew that Giselle and Mia, the two socialites, had been rivals since they were three and a half years old.

Giselle forced back the tears rising in her eyes and put the money away.

The first thing she did was to go to a shop up ahead and get herself a phone and a new number for 300 dollars. Then she went to a roadside burger stall and had a burger.

After she was done with her meal, Giselle took the bus, transferred twice, and got to Farrell Corporation.

At the front desk, the receptionist, Cindy Hart, looked at Giselle. "I've made myself clear. You won't be seeing Mr. Farrell without an appointment, so please don't make things difficult for me."

Giselle said earnestly, "Please call Gavin. Tell him it's Giselle. I'm here to talk to him about the divorce."

Cindy gave her a mocking look, sizing her up from head to toe with a condescending gaze. "You're such a joke. Are you pretending to be Mr. Farrell's wife? Well, I'll have you know that Mrs. Farrell comes to work with Mr. Farrell every day."

Giselle's face turned deathly pale.

Cindy continued, "Sometimes, they even come as a family of three. You're really something. Why don't you take a good look at yourself in the mirror? With how shabby you look, if you're Mr. Farrell's wife, then I'm his mother!"

Just then, Giselle caught sight of Gavin's assistant, Andy Jacobson.

She hurried forward and called out to him, "Mr. Jacobson!"

Cindy's eyes narrowed. Had she really been telling the truth?

Andy's gaze on Giselle was calm as he addressed her, "Mrs. Farrell".

Giselle nodded in acknowledgement before instructing him, "Please give Mr. Farrell a call. Tell him that I'm here for the divorce."

Disbelief filled Andy's eyes when he heard that, but he quickly composed himself and said, "Give me a moment, please."

Then he pulled out his phone and called Gavin.

The call was quickly answered. "What is it, Andy?"

Andy kept his voice low and said, "Mr. Farrell, I ran into Mrs. Farrell in the lobby. She asked me to call you. She says she's here to… talk about the divorce."

Chapter 4

On the other end of the line, Gavin remained silent for a long time. After a while, his icy voice came through the phone, audible even to Giselle. "Tell her that private visits require an appointment at the front desk."

Then, the call was cut off from Gavin's end. Andy glanced at Giselle, expecting her to throw a tantrum as she always did. However, Giselle simply thanked Andy and walked over to the front desk.

She said to Cindy, "I'd like to book a private appointment with Mr. Farrell."

Cindy took one look at her and exclaimed mockingly, "Why, I thought you were someone important! Turns out you still have to make a normal appointment, don't you? Honestly, people really have no shame these days.

"Anyway, Mr. Farrell's private schedule is fully booked for the next ten days. Do you still want to make an appointment?"

Giselle nodded.

Once the appointment was finalized, Giselle casually picked up a feedback form from the front desk. She gave Cindy a one-star rating and dropped the form into the suggestion box.

"I gave a one-star rating not because your service deserved it, but because one star is the lowest possible rating. You're welcome."

With that, she smiled faintly, turned around, and walked off.

Cindy's expression became ashen the moment she realized she had just been hit with a one-star rating.

Five minutes later, Cindy received a call from HR. "You're fired. Go to the finance department to collect your salary for this month."

…

It would take ten more days before Giselle could meet Gavin again, and there was a mandatory 30-day cooling-off period for a divorce to be processed. So that meant that it would be at least 40 days before she could get the divorce certificate and be truly free.

And on top of that, Giselle had to earn her own living. But she had the education and the capability, so she had nothing to be worried about.

However, her hopeful illusions about the future were shattered after a whole week of sending out job applications and receiving no response.

She tried asking an HR representative on a recruitment platform.

"May I ask if my résumé has failed your company's screening? I haven't received any interview invitations."

"Hello, your profile doesn't match our job requirements."

"Could you please tell me which part I fall short in?"

"Your academic background is excellent, but this role requires frequent cross-department collaboration and strong familiarity with the latest industry policies and digital tools. Frankly, a five-year gap would present significant challenges for you in the workforce."

"That is something I can overcome."

"Ms. Whitman, we also require candidates to bring their own portfolio of quality clients. This is a requirement that you can't meet. Therefore, we tend to prefer candidates with continuous work experience, as they can integrate into the role more quickly."

"Alright, thank you."

"Besides, here's a reminder for you. For someone of your age who is married with a child, we will have to consider whether you might want a second child, or if there are any unresolved postpartum depression issues. In short, your profile presents significant obstacles."

"Thank you."

Indeed, she had a five-year gap on her résumé. She had married and had a baby before even graduating from university. She had spent the most crucial five years of her life entirely on her family.

While she had a prestigious degree, she had absolutely no work experience to back her up. It came as no surprise that she'd be rejected.

Giselle held her phone in her hand and stared at it for a long time. In the end, she sent her résumé to the HR department of Mia's company.

What was pride compared to putting food on the table?

Just after sending the résumé, Giselle received a call from an unknown number. She answered the call.

On the other end came the frail, elderly voice of Gavin's grandmother, Marina Dunham. "Aren't you coming to visit me, Gigi? Have you forgotten all about me?"

Tears streamed down Giselle's cheeks. She frantically wiped them away and answered, "No, Marina, I haven't."

Marina said, "Well, come and visit me tomorrow, then. I've got things to tell you."

Giselle agreed. "Okay, Marina."

…

Over at Crownridge Estate, Penelope sat on the floor playing with her toy train. She looked up and asked innocently, "Daddy, is Mommy Chantelle better now? I miss Mommy Chantelle."

Gavin set aside his laptop and gestured for her to come over.

Penelope quickly ran over, climbed onto the couch, and settled on his lap.

Gavin looked at Penelope's face, which was so similar to Giselle's, and gently pinched her cheek. "Do you miss Aunt Chantelle already, Poppy?"

Penelope, with a serious expression on her face, nodded vigorously. "I miss her a whole lot."

Gavin couldn't hold back a cold, derisive scoff. He truly didn't understand what kind of mother Giselle had been. Penelope had never once said she missed her mother back when Giselle had been sent to the psychiatric hospital.

Now, after Chantelle had been by Penelope's side for just six months, Penelope couldn't bear to be without her. Giselle had truly failed as a mother.

Thinking of Giselle, Gavin suddenly grew curious. What was she doing now? How could she possibly survive without him and the Whitman family?

He set Penelope down and said, "Go and play by yourself."

But she clung to his leg and asked, "So when will Mommy Chantelle come back to play with me?"

Gavin replied in a low voice, "We'll stop by Grandpa's to visit Aunt Chantelle after we visit Great-Grandma tomorrow."

Penelope cheered and went back to playing with her train on the carpet.

Gavin stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. Outside, the fairy lights that Giselle hung in the yard before New Year's twinkled. He couldn't help but call Andy. "Find out what Giselle is doing right now."

True to his role as an executive assistant, Andy reported back on Giselle's current situation within half an hour.

Gavin frowned. "Job hunting?"

Andy affirmed, his tone matter-of-fact, "Several major companies have already rejected Mrs. Farrell. A few smaller companies haven't responded yet. This evening, Mrs. Farrell even sent her résumé to Harper Corporation."

Harper Corporation was Mia's family business. Everyone in Kingswell knew that Giselle and Mia were arch-rivals.

Andy said tentatively, "It seems Mrs. Farrell has reached a dead end."

If she was sending applications to Harper Corporation, the company owned by her former arch-rival, wasn't that a sign that she was out of options?

However, Gavin gave a light chuckle. His face, though handsome, held a cold expression. "If she still has choices, then that's hardly a dead end."

After a brief pause, he gave Andy a cruel instruction. "Spread the word that no one is to hire Giselle. If they do, they can expect bankruptcy."

Andy acknowledged the order and went to get it done.

As Gavin stared at the blinking fairy lights, he couldn't help recalling the way Giselle had smiled while hanging them up.

He had confined Giselle to a psychiatric hospital for half a year with the intention of forcing her into obedience. However, she had only grown more defiant.

Suddenly, something small and soft bumped into his leg. Penelope looked up at him and said sweetly, "Since Mommy Chantelle isn't here, I want to sleep with you tonight, Daddy."

Gavin picked her up and said, "Sure!"

Then, they both returned to the bedroom. Penelope was in the walk-in closet choosing a dress to wear tomorrow when she suddenly saw a pretty little box in the trash can. She couldn't resist picking it up.

She went out to show off her find to Gavin. "Look, Daddy! I found something interesting in the trash can."

Fresh out of the shower, Gavin wore a loosely tied bathrobe, revealing his robust, well-defined chest. "What treasure do you have there?"

Penelope stood on her tiptoes and handed it to him with both hands.

Gavin opened it up to find a pair of cufflinks.

He let out a cold laugh. What was Giselle playing at now? Was she hoping that he'd see this and be reminded of her?

With a contemptuous snort, he tossed it out the window without further thought.

Chapter 5

Penelope didn't understand why Gavin would throw away such a pretty thing. But she had a feeling it must have had something to do with Giselle. However, she was reluctant to admit she had a madwoman for a mother.

She walked to the window and looked down toward the spot where Gavin had tossed the cufflinks. Then, without hesitation, Penelope took off the amulet necklace around her neck and threw it out, too.

If Gavin didn't want anything that belonged to Giselle, then she wouldn't want anything that belonged to her either.

"Time for bed, Poppy."

"Okay, Daddy."

Penelope ran back, climbed onto the bed, and fell asleep snuggled in Gavin's arms.

Fast asleep, she looked so small, smelled so sweet, and felt so soft.

Gavin turned on his side to look at her, and his expression softened. Giselle's greatest contribution had been giving birth to Penelope.

…

After breakfast, Giselle took a cab to the Farrell residence.

The Farrell residence was nestled against a mountain, and it stood solitary with a traditional design within its own courtyard. Along with eight other mansions, they formed a pattern like stars encircling the moon.

The mansion that sat right at the center of the formation belonged to the Simmon family, a prestigious family with a century-old legacy.

Giselle's birth family was one of the eight surrounding households, so she had spent her childhood here. While she used to see the other seven families often, encounters with the Simmons were rare.

The cab stopped outside the compound of the Farrell residence.

Giselle got out, paid the fare, and walked in. She had only taken a few steps when a large, bulky Rottweiler lunged straight at her. It bared its fangs, aiming to sink them into Giselle's eyes and nose.

Giselle's eyes widened as a primal terror shot through her. She knew very well that a full-grown Rottweiler could kill an adult.

She suppressed the scream rising in her throat because she was aware that dogs took screaming and running as provocation or a signal to flee, which would only heighten their aggression.

At the critical moment, Giselle turned her face away and threw her arm up to protect herself, letting the canine's teeth sink into her forearm instead of her face.

Agonizing pain shot up her arm, but she held still. With her free hand, she grabbed her canvas bag and yanked it over the dog's head. The Rottweiler thrashed violently.

Instead of retreating, Giselle pressed forward, gripping the bag tightly and forcing the dog down against the ground.

The Rottweiler kicked and scratched wildly, leaving many scratches on her arm.

Giselle grabbed one of the bricks stacked by the roadside and smashed it down onto the canvas bag with one hand.

After just two strikes, a panicked voice came from a short distance away. "Giselle! How dare you hit my son! I'll make you pay with your life!"

Ruby Lockwood, the daughter of the Lockwood family, rushed over in a panic.

Seeing the blood already seeping through Giselle's canvas bag, Ruby's eyes reddened. "Giselle, you monster! You're inhuman! How could you be so cruel to a poor little dog? Let go of my baby!"

Giselle had used all her strength fending off the dog. So when Ruby pushed her, Giselle fell over. But she got up immediately and wiped her face.

Ruby hastily pulled the canvas bag away, but the Rottweiler's mouth was already covered in blood.

She wailed loudly, "How could you be so cold-blooded, Giselle? I won't let you get away with this!"

Ruby looked at Giselle with a venomous glare, as if Giselle were her mortal enemy.

Giselle leaned forward, gave Ruby a light pat on the cheek, and curved her lips into a cold smile. "Go ahead and try. I'm mentally ill. Murder isn't a crime for me."

Ruby shuddered and gave Giselle a hard shove.

Giselle pulled out a tissue, wiped her hands, and then threw the tissue at Ruby. "This dog must have done terrible things in a past life to have ended up with you now. This is karma."

With that, she walked toward the Farrell residence without looking back.

The moment she stepped inside, Marina came toward her, beaming with joy. But when she saw the wounds on Giselle, Marina was stunned.

Standing under the sunlight, Giselle gave her a small smile. Her voice was gentle and calm. "I might have to trouble your private doctor to give me a rabies shot. I just got into a fight with a dog outside."

Marina quickly pulled Giselle inside and had a good look at her. Giselle had lost a lot of weight, and the wounds on her neck made Marina's heart ache so much that her eyes reddened. "How did you end up like this? Oh, come in quick, you poor child."

She guided Giselle into the house and quickly instructed the butler, Bruno Jefferson, to call the private doctor and have him bring the rabies vaccine.

Giselle said, "Marina, I'm a mess. Let me take a shower first."

Marina nodded hurriedly, holding Giselle's hand. "Go shower in your room. All your clothes are still in the wardrobe. I haven't let anyone touch them."

Giselle smiled and headed upstairs.

Then, Marina turned to Bruno and said, "That scoundrel! Gavin has lied to me all this time, saying Gigi was traveling, when in fact he'd sent her to a psychiatric hospital! What kind of place is that for a normal person? Look at what's become of Gigi!"

But what could Bruno say? Marina could badmouth Gavin, but he couldn't! So he smiled and said, "Mr. Farrell was just trying to keep the peace at the time. After all, Ms. Chantelle nearly lost her life."

Marina spat in disdain. Furious, she said, "It's all because of Chantelle! Gavin must have been blind and senseless! How could an outsider be more important than his own wife? And the Whitmans are no better! How could a stepdaughter matter more than their own flesh and blood?"

While Bruno dared not gossip about Gavin, the Whitmans were fair game.

He whispered to Marina, "Don't they always say that once there's a stepmother, a stepfather won't be far behind? Mr. Whitman used to treat Ms. Giselle like a treasure before he remarried. But after he did, it was like he became a whole different person."

Marina huffed irritably. "That's why I say all men are jerks!"

Bruno chose to remain silent at that.

…

Giselle washed the bite wounds clean with soap and water for a long time. Then, she picked up a familiar-scented body wash, worked it into foam with the bath sponge, and smoothed it over her skin.

After rinsing off, she slipped into a silk robe, tying the belt as she stepped out of the bathroom.

Gavin just so happened to walk in as she emerged. They were just three steps away from each other when their eyes met.

Gavin let out a derisive laugh. It was just yesterday that she asked for a divorce, and now she had chased him all the way here?

Giselle was startled to see him, but she calmly finished tying her robe. "Since we've run into each other here, let's discuss the divorce. Gavin, I'm giving up custody of Poppy. In return, I want one-third of your post-marriage income."

Gavin's expression was unreadable, his eyes dark and unfathomable. He walked toward her slowly.

Giselle stayed where she was, forcing herself to appear composed.

Gavin stopped half a step away from Giselle, grabbed her hand firmly, and pulled her toward him. Giselle stumbled, colliding into his chest.

He lifted his other hand, and his fingers slid beneath the hem of her robe, trailing up along her neckline. His movements were bold and deliberate.

Utterly humiliated, Giselle slapped him hard across the face.