When Elissa first arrived at the orphanage, it was summer. She wore a beautiful little sundress, the kind that made her look like a storybook princess.


    Most kids had birthmarks that were nothing special–an ugly mole here, a strange shape there, nothing you’d ever call attractive.


    But Elissa’s was different.


    On her shoulder, she had a faint pink birthmark shaped like a butterfly.


    It was lovely–so much so that it seemed like fate itself had chosen to favor her, adding a delicate flourish to her already charmed existence.


    Back then, Marcia destroyed everything that belonged to Elissa. She would have carved the butterfly right from Elissa’s skin if she could have.


    Elissa yanked her dress back over her shoulder, ring coldly at Marcia. “What are you doing here in the middle of the night, trying to stir up trouble?”


    “It’s you!” Marcia’s eyes were bloodshot, burning with jealousy and bitter resentment. “It really is you. I knew it!”


    “Why does it always have to be you?”


    Why?


    Marcia simply couldn’t understand.


    Why did every good thing in the world seem to revolve around Elissa?


    She’d been born into a good family–her parents were both police officers, and she was raised like a princess.


    Even after being adopted by her parents‘ enemies, Rowan had protected her for nine years, treating her like she was made of ss.


    Later, she’d married Frank, just as she wished, andnded a coveted spot on a major research project.


    Now, she was married to Frank, yet still sneaking around with Rowan behind his back.


    The illustrious Young Master Murphy, reduced to a secret lover–all for her.


    The two most eligible men in Vistapeak City, and both only had eyes for Elissa!


    Marcia couldn’t even bear to imagine what would happen if Frank ever found out that


    <b>11:40 </b>1


    Elissa was that little vixen from their past. Would he put her on a pedestal even higher


    than before?


    Elissa never imagined anyone could envy her to this degree.


    If she had known, she probably would haveughed.


    Her parents were cops, but she’d spent most of her childhood eating at the neighbors‘ because her parents were always working. Their lives revolved around their jobs, not


    her.


    After Matriarch Paige Murphy took her in, she was constantly punished–yelled at, pped, even forced to kneel for hours.


    Those eight years after Rowan abandoned her had been even worse.


    And her marriage to Frank… well, that was a whole other story.


    Still, Elissa knew exactly what Marcia was talking about. Her face remained utterly calm. “Yes, it’s me. I never came looking for you, and yet here you are at my door.”


    When she first found out Marcia had been the one bullying her at the orphanage, Elissa had considered confronting her, demanding an exnation for the past.


    But in the end, it all seemed pointless.


    Besides, she was too busy with herb project to waste time on old grudges.


    Yet now, here was Marcia, showing up on her doorstep.


    Hearing Elissa’s admission, Marcia’s rage only grew wilder. She lunged for her, but Elissa slipped out of reach. Marcia’s voice grew shrill with desperation. “Why are you always against me? Haven’t you taken enough? Can’t you just give Frank to me?”


    Elissa stared at her, incredulous. “Am I the one standing in your way, or are you the one determined to be the other woman? Marcia, if you want to lose your mind, go check yourself into a hospital!”


    With that, Elissa turned to head into her building.


    Marcia chased after her, a twisted smile on her face. “The other woman? If I hadn’t married Spencer, Frank would have chosen me! You would never have even had a chance!”


    “But you didn’t marry him, did you?”


    Elissa looked at her, exasperated by how irrational she’d be. “Marcia, I have no idea what went wrong between you and Frank, but if you have a problem, take it up


    with him. I’m not part of your drama.”


    Elissa had noticed just the day before that Frank’s attitude toward Marcia had shifted.


    But she had no idea things had spiraled so far out of control that Marcia would show up at her door.


    The whole situation was almostughable.


    She was the legitimate wife, and yet here she was, stuck in the middle of her


    husband’s affair–forced to y mediator between the mistress and her own


    husband.


    <b>Chapter </b><b>198 </b>