I stared at the photograph for a long time.

Sebastian’s hand was around Olivia’s waist.

Her arms were around his neck.

There was nothing brotherly about it.

“Two years?” I asked.

Hector nodded.

“Possibly longer.”

“And her parents?”

“That is more complicated.”

He placed a second envelope on my desk.

“Olivia Liu isn’t an orphan.”

I looked up.

“Her mother is alive?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

Hector hesitated.

“Marianne Song.”

Sebastian’s aunt.

I frowned.

“Then Olivia is his cousin.”

“No.”

Hector’s expression hardened.

“Marianne is only the name on the household registration.”

I understood immediately.

“Who is her biological mother?”

“Lydia Zhao.”

The name was familiar.

Then I remembered.

Twenty years ago, Lydia Zhao had been one of Governor Song’s most famous mistresses.

Sebastian’s father’s mistress.

I slowly leaned back.

“So Olivia…”

“Is Sebastian’s half-sister.”

For the first time that night, I said nothing.

Hector continued.

“The Song family discovered it years ago. That’s why Olivia was publicly adopted into a distant branch instead of being acknowledged.”

I looked again at the photograph.

Sebastian knew.

He had to know.

“When did Sebastian learn the truth?”

“Six years ago.”

My fingers stopped on the photograph.

“And this was taken two years ago.”

“Yes.”

Disgust replaced anger.

“So he knew she was his sister.”

“Yes.”

“And still…”

“Yes.”

I closed my eyes.

My mother’s voice returned.

Try to live like a good woman.

Maybe one day someone will treat you honestly.

I had tried.

For ten years.

I had mistaken restraint for virtue.

But my mother had never asked me to become weak.

I opened my eyes.

“Hector.”

“Yes, Miss?”

“Tomorrow morning, send invitations.”

“To whom?”

“The Song elders. My father. The Chamber of Commerce president. The police chief.”

Hector’s eyes sharpened.

“And Sebastian?”

I smiled.

“He lives in my house.”

I tapped the photograph.

“Of course he’s invited.”

The next morning, Olivia was screaming in the courtyard.

“Who touched my flowers?”

I stepped outside.

Workers were removing every red and purple plant she’d ordered.

Olivia stormed toward me.

“I planted those!”

“In my garden.”

“Sebastian approved them!”

“Sebastian doesn’t own the soil.”

Her face reddened.

“You’re jealous.”

I almost laughed.

“Of you?”

She stepped closer.

“You know he loves me.”

Finally.

There it was.

No pretending.

No sisterly affection.

I looked at her.

“Yes.”

She froze.

I continued:

“That’s why I’ve invited everyone to dinner tonight.”

For the first time since she’d entered my home, Olivia looked uncertain.

That evening, the main hall filled again.

The same men who had attended my engagement sat beneath the lanterns.

Only this time, no one relaxed.

They knew Hector Jing had returned.

North City had a long memory after all.

Sebastian entered last.

“What is this?”

“A family discussion.”

His gaze moved toward Hector.

Then to me.

“You brought that man into our home?”

“My home.”

His jaw tightened.

“Valentina, don’t start.”

I smiled.

“Sit.”

Perhaps it was my tone.

Perhaps it was the twelve men standing outside.

Sebastian sat.

Olivia came downstairs wearing one of my mother’s ruby hairpins.

I stared at it.

Rosa immediately stepped forward.

“That belonged to the late Madam!”

Olivia touched it casually.

“Sebastian gave it to me.”

The room became silent.

I looked at my husband.

“Did you?”

“It was only jewelry.”

My fingers tightened.

My mother’s belongings had remained sealed for ten years.

He had opened that room.

Taken something.

Given it to his lover.

Still, I smiled.

“Take it off.”

Olivia laughed.

“No.”

I looked at Rosa.

“Remove it.”

Olivia slapped Rosa’s hand away.

Sebastian stood.

“Enough!”

And there it was.

The command.

The assumption that his voice still mattered.

I turned toward him.

“You entered my mother’s room without permission.”

“We’re married. Stop dividing everything into yours and mine.”

“Very well.”

I nodded.

“Let’s discuss what belongs to whom.”

Hector placed documents on the table.

Property deeds.

Marriage agreements.

Dowry inventories.

Business shares.

The faces around the table changed.

I spoke calmly.

“This residence belongs to me.”

Another document.

“The southern warehouses belong to me.”

Another.

“The textile company Sebastian has been managing for the past year?”

I smiled.

“Seventy percent belongs to me.”

Sebastian went pale.

“You can’t possibly—”

“And the credit guarantees supporting three Song family businesses were issued by my father’s bank at my request.”

His father stood abruptly.

“Valentina.”

I ignored him.

“All guarantees are being reviewed.”

Sebastian finally understood.

This wasn’t a marital quarrel.

I was dismantling the structure he’d assumed would always support him.

Olivia rushed toward him.

“Sebastian!”

He instinctively pulled her behind him.

Exactly as I expected.

I looked around the room.

“Everyone sees that?”

No one answered.

“Good.”

Hector placed the photograph on the table.

Sebastian’s face emptied.

Olivia gasped.

His father grabbed it.

“What is this?”

“Your son kissing his adoptive sister two years before our engagement.”

Chaos erupted.

Sebastian slammed his palm down.

“You had me followed?”

“No.”

I tilted my head.

“I investigated after your lover poured boiling soup over me at my engagement.”

“She isn’t my lover!”

“Then perhaps we should discuss what she is.”

Hector placed the birth records down.

Sebastian stopped breathing.

Olivia looked confused.

“What are those?”

I watched Sebastian.

“Would you like to tell her?”

He said nothing.

Interesting.

Olivia grabbed the documents.

Her face changed as she read.

“No.”

Sebastian stood.

“Olivia—”

“No!”

She backed away.

“This says…”

Her eyes moved toward his father.

Then Sebastian.

“No.”

She shook her head violently.

“You said it wasn’t true.”

So she had heard the rumor.

Sebastian had lied to her too.

His father struck him across the face.

The sound echoed through the hall.

“You knew!”

Sebastian staggered.

“You knew six years ago!”

Olivia began crying.

Sebastian reached for her.

She recoiled.

“Don’t touch me!”

I watched them quietly.

For months, Sebastian had treated my patience as stupidity.

Now his entire family was discovering the price.

He suddenly turned toward me.

“You planned this.”

“No.”

I stood.

“You planned it.”

I pointed toward the evidence.

“You courted your own sister in secret. You married me for my family’s influence. Then you moved your lover into my dowry residence.”

I walked closer.

“I merely invited witnesses.”

His face twisted.

“You think you can destroy me?”

“No.”

I smiled.

“You did that yourself.”

Then I looked at Olivia.

“You have until sunrise to leave my property.”

She stared at me.

“Where am I supposed to go?”

“Ask your brother.”

Sebastian grabbed my arm.

“You’re not throwing her out.”

The room became completely silent.

I looked down at his hand.

Ten years ago, men had learned never to touch me without permission.

Apparently Sebastian had mistaken my mother’s final wish for amnesia.

“Hector.”

One word.

Sebastian’s wrist was removed from my arm before he could react.

Two guards pinned him against the table.

Gasps filled the room.

I remained perfectly still.

“Release him.”

They did.

Sebastian stared at me.

For the first time, I saw fear.

Good.

Not because I wanted him frightened.

Because fear had finally made him listen.

“The marriage agreement is on the table,” I said. “My attorney will begin annulment proceedings tomorrow.”

His face changed.

“Annulment?”

“You concealed a relationship that materially affected our marriage negotiations.”

I removed my wedding ring.

“And you brought that relationship into my residence.”

I placed the ring beside the photograph.

“We are finished.”

Sebastian laughed bitterly.

“You won’t do it.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“You spent ten years pretending to be some charitable young lady because your mother told you to.”

His voice grew louder.

“You’re terrified of becoming that monster again.”

That hurt.

Because part of me had wondered the same thing.

I looked toward my mother’s portrait.

Then I finally understood.

Putting down the gun had never meant surrendering my dignity.

Mercy wasn’t allowing people to hurt me indefinitely.

Being good did not require being harmless.

I looked back at Sebastian.

“My mother asked me to put down my gun.”

I smiled.

“She never asked me to hand it to you.”

I walked away.

By midnight, the Song family’s representatives were begging my father not to withdraw the guarantees.

By dawn, Olivia was gone.

By noon, Sebastian’s belongings had been delivered to his father’s residence.

And by evening, North City knew the engagement had become the shortest marriage of the season.

I never fired a shot.

I thought that would be the end.

It wasn’t.

Three nights later, Hector entered my study without knocking.

That alone told me something was wrong.

“Miss.”

He carried the old wooden weapons box.

I stared at it.

“Why did you bring that?”

“Someone broke into the eastern archive.”

My expression changed.

“My mother’s archive?”

“Yes.”

“What did they take?”

“Nothing.”

I frowned.

“Then why break in?”

Hector placed something on my desk.

A bullet.

Old.

Darkened with age.

My breath stopped.

I recognized the engraving on its casing.

It belonged to the ammunition my mother had ordered specially for her private guards.

“Where was it?”

“On her desk.”

Hector’s voice became quieter.

“With a note.”

He handed it to me.

There were only eight words.

Your mother did not die from poison, Valentina.

For several seconds, I couldn’t hear anything.

Ten years ago, I had built my entire revenge around the belief that my father’s concubine had poisoned my mother.

“What else?”

Hector’s face was grim.

“There’s blood on the bullet.”

I looked at him.

“Whose?”

“We don’t know yet.”

Then he placed an old photograph beside it.

My mother stood in the center.

My father beside her.

And behind them was a much younger man I recognized immediately.

Sebastian’s father.

Hector looked directly at me.

“Miss, I think your marriage to Sebastian was arranged for a reason neither family ever told you.”

My hand slowly moved toward the wooden box.

For ten years, it had remained locked.

This time, when I lifted the lid—

my mother’s gun was gone.