He Got the Mistress. I Got the Empire.

After helping my husband build his business from the ground up, I settled into life as a full-time housewife.

When our daughter's tenth birthday approached, I planned to host a grand celebration for her. I booked a party that cost 2 thousand dollars per table.

But when I swiped my card at the hotel, the staff gave me a strange look.

"Mrs. Richmond, this card doesn't even have fifty dollars in it to charge."

Flushed with embarrassment, I went home to confront my husband. He wore an apologetic expression.

"Lately, the company's been competing for contracts. The new government official is insatiably greedy, and I've had to spend a lot under the table to smooth things over. Once the funds turn around, I'll make sure our daughter gets the grand birthday she deserves."

I gave him a gentle, understanding smile—but as soon as I turned away, I began tallying our assets.

Because that so-called "new government official" was none other than my father. And in his office, there hadn't been any bids or contracts at all.

Now I intended to find out exactly where my husband had spent all our money.

That card was meant for our household expenses. Just last month, it still carried over 100,000 dollars.

When I checked the records, I found they had been deliberately erased. So I went straight to the bank and requested the full statement.

The largest expense stunned me—it was from the Hill Hotel, the very place I had visited earlier. 88,000 dollars, listed under "Birthday Party Package."

"Daddy must be planning a surprise for me, right? Mommy, let's hurry over and give him a surprise too!"

My daughter's innocent eyes sparkled with excitement, leaving me unable to think the worst of my husband, Freddy Richmond.

But when we arrived at the banquet hall, the truth hit me like a knife.

There stood Freddy in a tailored suit, smiling and chatting warmly with guests at the entrance. At his side, a woman in a striking red gown clung to his arm with practiced intimacy. They looked like a picture-perfect couple.

I recognized her instantly. She was Lisa Hamdon, his secretary, and one of the company's long-standing employees.

"Mrs. Richmond, your son looks so much like Mr. Richmond. He looks so handsome and refined, even at such a young age."

"That's right. Everyone in the company envies you two. Even after all these years, you and Mr. Richmond are still inseparable."

The flattery swirled around me, but then I noticed something else. Amid the cluster of guests stood a young boy whose features mirrored Freddy's.

"Daddy, they got the name wrong! I'm Elise, not Eugene!"

My daughter suddenly broke free from my grasp and dashed toward Freddy. Only then did I see the sign standing proudly beside the stage.

"Happy 7th Birthday to Our Beloved Son, Eugene Richmond!"

Before I could even process the words, there was a sharp thud. Lisa had pushed my daughter to the ground.

"Where did this snotty brat come from? How rude."

I rushed forward, scooping my daughter into my arms. Blood welled on Elise's scraped knee, and a white-hot fury drowned out every rational thought.

"Freddy!" My voice shook with rage. "You used our family's money to keep a mistress and raise an illegitimate child… and now you let your mistress lay a hand on Elise?"

Clutching my sobbing daughter tightly, I glared at Freddy, my chest heaving.

Lisa muttered under her breath, just loud enough for everyone to hear, "Family money? Every cent was earned through my hard work alongside Freddy. Some people are so used to living like pampered songbirds in gilded cages, they've convinced themselves they're the lady of the house."

The crowd erupted in whispers, their eyes darting between us, sharp as knives.

"Is that the mistress making a scene, bringing her illegitimate kid to crash the party?"

"Unbelievable. The nerve of her, strutting up to the wife like that. Shameless."

"Exactly. And she had a girl, too. Who knows if she'll turn out just as cheap."

The contempt, the mockery, the disdain—all of it hit me and my daughter like a thousand needles.

I finally snapped, my fury boiling over.

"What nonsense are you spewing? Lisa is the mistress! And that boy is the illegitimate child you've been hiding!"