<h1 ss="dib mb0 fw700 fs24 lh1.5">Chapter 1: A Birthday Betrayal, A Final Stand</h1>


    ra Vance stepped out of the car, her heart racing with anticipation. After three weeks apart from her family, she had flown to Andoria on her birthday, hoping to surprise Damien and Cora. The sprawling Thorne estate loomed before her, its grand fa?ade a stark reminder of the wealth and power of the family she had married into.


    “Wee home, Mrs. Thorne,” the housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, greeted her at the door with a warm smile.


    “Thank you, Mrs. Gable. Where are Damien and Cora?” ra asked, removing her light jacket.


    Mrs. Gable’s smile faltered. “Mr. Thorne is at the office. He mentioned he would bete today. Cora is in the yroom with her tutor.”


    Disappointment settled in ra’s chest, but she pushed it aside. “I’ll go see Cora then.”


    Walking through the familiar hallways, ra paused outside the yroom door. Laughter drifted out – her daughter’s voice mixed with the tutor’s. She entered with a bright smile.


    “Cora, sweetheart! Mommy’s here!”


    Her six-year-old daughter looked up from her craft project, surprise rather than joy crossing her features. “Mommy? I thought you were in New York.”


    “I came to spend my birthday with you and Daddy,” ra exined, kneeling beside Cora’s chair.


    Cora’s attention quickly returned to her project – a handmade card decorated with glitter and stickers. “Look what I’m making!”


    “It’s beautiful, sweetheart. Is it for Daddy?” ra asked, eager to connect.


    “No, it’s for Auntie Vivi. She’s taking me to the zoo tomorrow!” Cora eximed, her eyes lighting up.


    ra’s smile froze. Vivienne Dubois – Damien’s not-so-secret mistress and, painfully, ra’s half-sister. “That’s… nice of her.”


    “She’s the best! She always brings me presents and takes me fun ces,” Cora continued, unaware of the knife twisting in her mother’s heart.


    “I see,” ra managed. “Well, I’m here now. Maybe we can do something special together?”


    Cora shrugged. “But I already made ns with Auntie Vivi.”


    The tutor, sensing the tension, discreetly excused herself.


    ra took a steadying breath. “Cora, it’s my birthday today. Don’t you want to spend some time with me?”


    Cora looked up, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. “Oh. Happy birthday, Mommy.” She hesitated, then returned to her card. “Can I finish this first? It’s really important.”


    More important than me, ra thought bitterly. She stood, forcing a smile. “Of course, sweetheart. I’ll see you at dinner.”


    Retreating to the master bedroom, ra unpacked her suitcase with methodical movements, fighting back tears. She had hoped this trip would be different – that maybe, just maybe, her husband and daughter would remember her birthday, would want to celebrate with her.


    Her phone buzzed with a message from Damien: “Workingte. Don’t wait for dinner.”


    No acknowledgment of her arrival. No mention of her birthday. Just another dismissal.


    Hourster, ra sat alone at the dinner table, picking at her food as Cora chatted excitedly about her day with the tutor and her ns with “Auntie Vivi.”


    “Daddy said he mighte to the zoo too, if he finishes his meetings,” Cora announced.


    ra’s fork ttered against her te. “Did he? That would be nice.”


    “Uh-huh! We’re going to have ice cream after, and Auntie Vivi said I could stay upte to watch the new princess movie!”


    ra nodded, her throat tight. “That sounds wonderful, darling.”


    After putting Cora to bed, ra waited in the living room. The grandfather clock ticked away the minutes, then hours. At midnight, the front door finally opened.


    Damien entered, his tall frame silhouetted against the doorway, surprise registering on his face when he saw her.


    “You’re still awake,” he stated, loosening his tie.


    “It’s my birthday,” ra said softly.


    His expression didn’t change. “Is it? I apologize for forgetting. Happy birthday, ra.”


    Seven years of marriage, and he couldn’t remember the date. Seven years of loving him, and he couldn’t muster even a hint of warmth.


    “Thank you,” she replied, her voice hollow.


    “I have an early meeting tomorrow. Goodnight.” He turned toward the guest bedroom he had been upying for months.


    “Damien,” she called after him. “I was hoping we could have lunch together tomorrow. Since you missed dinner tonight.”


    He paused. “I’ll check my schedule.”


    The next morning, ra woke early, determined to salvage something from this trip. She chose her outfit carefully – a blue dress Damien had oncemented on years ago – and styled her hair with extra care.


    Passing by Cora’s room, she overheard her daughter talking on the phone.


    “I can’t wait to see you, Auntie Vivi! I wish you could be my mommy instead.”


    ra froze, her hand on the doorknob. The words pierced through her like physical pain.


    “My real mommy is here, but she’s always sad. Daddy doesn’t smile when she’s around. I like it better when it’s just us with you.”


    Backing away silently, ra retreated to her room, the cruel words echoing in her mind. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring nkly at the wall as tears streamed down her face.


    At noon, sheposed herself enough to check if Damien would keep their lunch date. His assistant answered.


    “I’m sorry, Mrs. Thorne. Mr. Thorne had a change of ns. He left the office an hour ago.”


    ra thanked her and hung up. On impulse, she drove to Damien’s favorite restaurant. As she approached the entrance, she saw them through the window – Damien, Vivienne, and Cora,ughing together at a corner table. The perfect family portrait, with no space for her.


    Something hardened inside ra. Seven years of hoping, waiting, trying. Seven years of watching her husband love another woman – her own half-sister. Seven years of losing her daughter’s affection to that same woman.


    Enough.


    She drove back to the estate with newfound rity. In the home office, she drafted a divorce agreement – fair, generous even. She had no interest in Damien’s money or properties. She wanted only what was rightfully hers, including shared custody of Cora.


    When she finished, she sealed the document in an envelope and left it on Damien’s desk with his name written in her elegant handwriting.


    “Mrs. Gable,” she called, finding the housekeeper in the kitchen. “Please ensure Mr. Thorne receives this when he returns.”


    Mrs. Gable’s eyes widened slightly at ra’s calm demeanor. “Of course, Mrs. Thorne. Will you be here for dinner?”


    “No,” ra replied, her voice steadier than it had been in years. “I’m leaving now. Please have my luggage brought to the car.”


    Outside, the driver waited by the sleek ck car. “Where to, Mrs. Thorne?”


    ra looked back at the mansion onest time, at the gilded cage she had willingly entered seven years ago.


    “To the airport,” she said firmly.


    It was time to reim her life.