The man didn't refute Cheyenne's words, only staring at her with cold eyes.

"I'll pack my things and leave immediately. If you don't trust me, you can watch," Cheyenne said, gathering her dress and ascending the stairs. Her figure was graceful and elegant, her fair skin contrasting sharply with her black dress. Each step was poised, making Abbie envious.

Cheyenne's beauty was undeniable. Abbie, Kelvin's childhood companion, had discreetly dealt with countless women vying for his attention. Only Cheyenne, through old Mr. Foley's favoritism, had successfully replaced Mrs. Foley. Cheyenne had effortlessly secured the position Abbie had coveted for over a decade. The fact that Kelvin's first wife wasn't Abbie felt like a deep wound.

After a moment, a vicious glint flashed in Abbie's eyes, quickly masked by a gentle expression. "Kelvin, let me help her."

"Suit yourself," he replied indifferently, leaving the hall.

Upstairs, the room she'd inhabited for three years filled Cheyenne with desolation. She had once hoped to marry Kelvin, personally selecting the bed linens and curtains, but he rarely visited.

"Click."

The door opened slightly, revealing Abbie, her expression gentle. "Miss Lawrence, let me help you pack," Abbie said, approaching slowly.

Help me pack? Is she kind, or mocking me? (The website plug has been removed.)

"No need, I don't have much. I wouldn't want to trouble you, Miss Berry, given your importance to Kelvin," Cheyenne replied.

She opened her closet, revealing clothes in shades of pink, white, and blue. Kelvin's single black suit stood out, yet surprisingly harmonized with the soft colors—a touch of firm darkness amidst the gentle hues.

Pausing, Cheyenne began removing her clothes. Her pale fingers brushed his suit, causing her to tremble. Countless nights, she had slept clutching it, comforted by his scent.

Abbie glanced at the closet, sensing their connection. A hint of joy crossed her face as she whispered, "I never thought Kelvin still kept this suit."

She took the suit, unfolding a sleeve to reveal a small, almost invisible name: "Abbie."

An icy coldness numbed Cheyenne.

Abbie, pleased with Cheyenne's reaction, smiled smugly. "This suit was a gift I gave Kelvin on his 20th birthday. He lied, saying it didn't fit."

He had treasured it.

Cheyenne felt disgusted; her source of comfort was Abbie's gift.

Abbie continued, "And this photo frame! This picture is from when Kelvin played basketball, and I was a cheerleader."

It was his only photograph. He disliked pictures, using plain backgrounds for public appearances. They had been married for three years without a single wedding photo. He hadn't wanted to marry her; he'd refused wedding photos due to his aversion to pictures. Abbie was the exception.

Though Cheyenne knew the truth, her heart ached. After a long moment, a seductive brightness replaced the dimness in her eyes. She approached Abbie, arms crossed.

Leaning in, she whispered, "Do you know Kelvin always wears this suit in bed…and goes crazy for me?"

Abbie froze, her smile faltering.

She saw Cheyenne's sweet smile and a burning desire for revenge consumed her. He cares for me, yet married that woman, slept with her.

It must be because she wasn't there. Now she would reclaim him.

"You were married before, so… it's normal!"

Cheyenne observed Abbie's forced smile, a mask for her hatred. She tossed her hair.

"Anyway, whether for children or his grandfather, he slept with me. And Miss Berry, as his ex-wife, let me remind you—Kelvin… isn't very skilled. It hurts."

"Bitch!" Abbie's face paled with rage.

"Cheyenne, you've been abandoned! I am the true mistress of the Foley family!"

"Tsk tsk, finally showing your true self? You must hate me for being Mrs. Foley for three years…"

A tall figure approached, radiating coldness. His gaze fell on Abbie's red eyes. He questioned Cheyenne, "If you have grievances, why take it out on Abbie?"

Abbie wept, throwing herself into his arms. Kelvin gently pushed her away, leaving her stunned and disappointed. His gaze fixed on Cheyenne's face. She smiled innocently. "I told her you're not skilled in bed, then she cried."

"Cheyenne Lawrence!" He pinched her neck.