Jared froze mid-pour. “And which one are you?”

Leaning back, I smirked. “Oh, I’m neither. At best, I’m the one you forget and ignore eventually.”

He studied me for a long moment, then exhaled sharply. “Overthinking leads to hair loss, you know.”

The jab hit its mark. Annoyance flared—I’d walked right into his game. Psychology books call this deactivation: the moment you stop feeding someone’s emotional hooks, their power over you collapses. Yet here I was, scrambling to counter him.

Silently, I sipped my tea, stewing. Jared, meanwhile, looked unbearably pleased with himself.

Then my phone buzzed. A notification flashed—$3,000,000.00 deposited – Current Account. I glanced at the screen, then up at Jared. At least the man kept his word.

He smirked, reading my expression. “Need to count the zeros to be sure?”

I set my phone down, refusing to play. “I trust you,” I said flatly.

The amusement drained from his face. Bored, he stood. “Dinner at my mother’s tonight. Need a ride?”

“No. I’ll drive myself.”

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing else. Finishing his tea, he left without another word.

That evening, the Holcomb estate was conspicuously missing one small, chaotic presence. No Yvonne. I didn’t ask. If my daughter wasn’t here to scream at me for existing, all the better.

Sally, ever the gracious hostess, offered an explanation unprompted: “Quinn took Yvonne to some concert.” She waved a manicured hand. “Teenagers.”

I nodded. Maybe distance was best. Without me—the “failed mother”—weighing her down, Yvonne would thrive differently. Better.

Dinner unfolded like a corporate negotiation. James, Jared’s father, had come to lobby for another round of funding for his latest “surefire” investment. Sally needled him between courses, but James just chuckled, unfazed.

Jared, meanwhile, dissected the proposal with clinical detachment. His parents’ toxic dynamic might as well have been background noise; nothing distracted him from his empire.

That’s what real strength looks like, I realized. Unshakable focus. No emotional leaks.

Predictably, James left empty-handed after Jared rejected his pitch again. The roar of his Ferrari faded into the night, leaving behind strained silence.

Jared checked his phone. “When’s Quinn bringing Yvonne back?”

Sally shrugged. “Call her yourself. I tried earlier; probably too loud at the concert to hear her phone.”

Just as Jared was about to dial, his phone rang. His brow furrowed as he checked the caller ID, then he strode out of the villa to take the call.

I decided it was time to leave. Grabbing my bag, I headed for the door. As I passed Jared outside, he hadn’t noticed me yet. His voice was low, tense.

“Where are you? I’ll come pick up Yvonne. You just got off a flight. I appreciate you looking after her.” A pause. “Yeah, stay there. I’m on my way.”

He hung up and turned, only to see me standing there. A flicker of discomfort crossed his face. “I’m going to get Yvonne. You should head home.”

“Sure.” I had no intention of joining him anyway. But that fleeting unease in his eyes? My instincts screamed, Maybe Quinn and Yvonne weren’t the only ones at that concert. Maybe Tracy was there too. And that was why Jared didn’t insist I come along. Because tonight, my presence wasn’t required.

I marched to my car, slid in, and sped off. I didn’t hear them come home. By the time Jared and Yvonne returned, I was already asleep.

The next morning, Yvonne was draped over Jared’s lap, rubbing her eyes dramatically. “Daddy, my tummy hurts. I can’t go to school.”

Jared sighed, stroking her hair. “Yvonne, Mommy and I have work. If you’re really sick, we’ll go to the hospital.” He didn’t allow her to skip classes.

“Will they give me a shot?” Her eyes widened in horror.

“Possibly.”

“Never mind!” She scrambled upright. “School’s fine.”

Just then, I descended the stairs. Yvonne immediately bolted from Jared and latched onto my leg. “Mommy, skip work today! Take me to the park instead?”

I looked down at her. Mosquito bites dotted her cheeks, angry red welts against her skin. Normally, I’d fuss over her, applying ointment until the swelling faded. Today, I couldn’t muster the energy.

“I’m busy.” My voice was ice.

“You never love me anymore!” she wailed. “Tracy would never—” She caught herself, but the damage was done.

Jared’s gaze flicked to me, testing my reaction. I gave none. Instead, I took a deliberate bite of the organic avocado toast Wendy had prepared, the morning sunlight catching my cheeks.

Lately, I’d been taking better care of myself. My skin glowed, my complexion was radiant, and the sickly pallor I once had was gone. My eyes, no longer dull and tired, now shone with clarity.

Jared crouched before our pouting daughter. “Mom’s busy. I’ll drop you at school, might pick you up if my meetings clear.”

“Can someone else get me? I want—” Yvonne whisper-shouted into his ear, throwing me a sidelong glare.

His jaw tightened. “Pleeeeease, Daddy?” She batted her lashes, the perfect little manipulator.

Defeated, he ruffled her hair. “Finish your chia pudding first.” She devoured it with performative gusto, shooting me a triumphant look.

After dropping Yvonne off at school, Jared headed to work. I had business at the company too; some financial matters needed sorting out.

The moment I stepped into the finance department, I spotted Tracy. Her expression darkened when she saw me.

As she turned to leave, she suddenly asked, “A transfer of 3 million was made from Mr. Holcomb’s personal account yesterday. Do you know where that money went, Mrs. Holcomb?”

I blinked. Since when did Tracy have access to Jared’s finances? She was really stepping into the wife role, wasn’t she?

“Why ask me? Ask him,” I shot back, no longer the meek woman I used to be.

Tracy’s face tightened. “I will.”

I was almost curious how Jared would explain this. Would he tell her the truth? If Tracy found out, she might just get mad on the spot. But knowing Jared, he’d probably keep it to himself. He always guarded his privacy fiercely.

As I left the finance office, I spotted Jared stepping out of the elevator. I pretended not to see him and turned the other way, but he called out, “Honey, come to my office for a minute.”

The entire hallway froze. Honey? Since when did he call me that in public? The man was putting on quite the devoted-husband act. But everyone in this company knew Tracy was his real love.