- 18.
My husband’s face turned purple with rage. “Right now! Immediately! Get out of my house!”
1
(For real?) I thought gleefully.
As the mission neared its end, the System finally chimed in. “Wow, Host, you’ve got skills! Look at his face! I give you
100 points.”
I had rehearsed this moment a thousand times in my head. I immediately dragged three large suitcases out of the
bedroom, fully prepared to be thrown out.
But to my surprise, the two little ones stood in front of me, shielding me.
They glared at their father. “You’re not allowed to bully Mommy!”
The System (silently): The plot seems to have gone off script.
Me: I was thinking the same thing.
Matt, as if annoyed that his father was blocking the light from the doorway, shoved a toilet plunger into his hands.
“From now on, you are the Dark Sorcerer.”
“Quick, perform for my mom.”
My husband finally exploded. He grabbed a child in each hand and tossed them to the butler standing behind him.
He roared at me, “Take your luggage and GET OUT!”
“Right away, sir! I’m going, I’m going.”
I didn’t quite make it out. I was stopped at the door.
Hooked up and met the gaze of a cool, beautiful woman.
She frowned, pointing at my luggage. “Are these all your bags?”
I spread my arms protectively over the future financial security of my boy toys.
“Men,” she commanded. “Open them.”
Several large bodyguards immediately restrained me, and my suitcases were opened one by one.
The contents were laid out on the floor, and my husband’s face grew darker with every item revealed.
Shark fins, abalone, New Zealand scampi…
Me (bashfully): “I’ve had a big appetite since I was a child. Just bringing a few snacks to fill my stomach.”
My husband’s mouth twitched. “Then what’s with this pile of electrical wiring? Are you planning to grill fish in the wilder-
ness?”
Me: …
Beneath the blue–green plastic casing, the wires were a brilliant, glittering gold.
I wept internally. It wasn’t my fault! Who knew that wealthy people used 24–karat gold for their household wiring? This
was supposed to be for my future boy toy’s wedding jewelry!
My husband kicked my suitcases aside and pointed a finger. “Out!”
I was thrown out the door.
“Boss,” I yelled, unwilling to give up. “You kicked my luggage in the wrong direction!”
My three suitcases lay forlornly deep inside the mansion, now an extra 50 meters away from me.
That’s when Matt shouted from the doorway, “Don’t worry, Mom! You go on ahead! I’ll be right behind you!”
My little stepdaughter nodded in enthusiastic agreement. “We don’t need this junk anyway! Dad has a safe! As soon as I crack the lock, I’ll wire all the money to you!”
My husband: ?
Epilogue: My Story
I was kicked out by my husband, but the System grudgingly judged my mission a success.
As promised, I was granted 40 years of ageless beauty.
I had also managed to scrape together nearly ten million dollars during my year at the Sterling mansion, all safely depo-
sited in my personal account.
My ex–husband accused me of corrupting his children and forbade me from ever returning to the country. He transferr- ed another ten million to my account as “travel expenses” and told me to get lost and grow old in a foreign land.
Lying on a beach in the Maldives, I counted my money until my hands ached.
“Zizi, stop looking at your phone. Look at me.”
My phone screen went dark, replaced by a handsome face. Sharp jawline, deep eyes–a mix of American, Chinese, and
French heritage.
I was drunk on his beauty, a grin stretching my face. “Okay, okay. No more phone. I’ll only look at you.”
Whenever my funds started to run low, a large sum would mysteriously appear in my account from an anonymous source, more than enough to continue my life of leisure.
My only complaint?
Twenty years later, a handsome and elegant young man showed up at my door and refused to leave.
He claimed that I was the first person to see him in his “true form” and that I had to take responsibility for him for the
rest of his life.
Epilogue: Matt’s Story
The day Dad came home, he brought a strange woman with him.
She called herself the female lead, our savior, our true mother.
Like hell. I only have one mom.
My mom was the one who made us nutritional meals to make us strong, hired a martial arts master to build our bodies, and found a world–class teacher for my sister to secure her future.
Who the hell was this woman to call herself a mother?
Ugh, she’s so full of herself, always trying to lecture us with her “main character” philosophy.
And could she please stop trying to prevent us from running to school? A walk after a meal adds years to your life. Doe-
sn’t she understand anything?
Speaking of which, I miss Mom.
Whatever. My monthly allowance of one hundred thousand just came in. I need to wire it to her right away.
My sister said she wants to send her allowance to Mom, too.
Damn it!
That won’t do. If we have no money left, what will we use to buy her gifts when we’re old enough to go find her?
I heard that brat Nathan is already in the Maldives.
Arrrgh, I’m so jealous!
No, I have to speed up my plan. As soon as I take over the corporation, I’m going to go find my mom and take care of
her for the rest of her life.
