His First Love's Curse

I furiously wiped my lips where he had touched, feeling my stomach churn violently until I couldn’t help but gag. Opening the drawer, I saw the divorce papers I had prepared long ago but never had the heart to take out.

Late at night, after tossing and turning, I finally mustered the courage to enter my daughter’s room.

“Mommy, what story are you telling me today?”

“Today, all the kids’ dads came to watch the performance at kindergarten except for mine…”

“Mommy, I folded so many little stars for you. They’ll keep you company forever.”

I held the glass jar, my dry eyes unable to squeeze out a single tear.

Taking out my suitcase, I carefully packed all of my daughter’s belongings. Page by page, I flipped through the photo album, caressing my daughter’s smiling face as I sat there until dawn. My limbs were numb and stiff, nearly making it impossible to stand. After a long moment, I finally dragged my suitcase out of the bedroom.

“Cheyenne, where are you off to so early?” Queenie asked, her face brimming with mockery.

I ignored her coldly and walked past, but she suddenly grabbed my suitcase and threw it down the stairs. My daughter’s belongings spilled out, shattering with loud crashes all over the floor.

My mind went blank as I rushed downstairs, frantically picking up the broken stars.

Queenie leisurely descended the stairs, stepping on my hand. “You poor peasants really don’t belong in high society. You treat this pile of trash like it’s some kind of treasure.”

I struggled desperately, but the bodyguard behind me pinned me down with an iron grip.

Queenie picked up a card and smirked. “‘Celeste wishes Mommy a happy birthday,’” she read aloud mockingly.

With a laugh, she tore the card into pieces and threw them in my face. “But I’m not happy.

“I’ll help you burn this trash,” she said, flicking a lighter on and off in front of me tauntingly.

My eyes burned with rage as I glared at her. “Don’t you dare!” Alas, no matter how much I struggled, I couldn’t break free.

She lit a photograph to provoke me, and as I watched my daughter’s face consumed by flames, it felt like my heart was being torn in two. At that moment, I was forced to truly accept that my daughter was gone, completely and irrevocably.

“I beg you, please don’t. These are the last things Celeste left for me,” I pleaded, my eyes bloodshot with despair.

Queenie grabbed my chin and slapped me several times, her voice dripping with venom.

“How could Sutton choose cheap trash like you to replace me?”

She yanked my hair, her face twisted with madness as she laughed at the bodyguards behind her maniacally. “Strip her. Let’s see how she dares to cling to my brother after this.”

Fear and hatred surged in my heart as I curled up on the floor, clutching my clothes tightly.

Unfortunately, my feeble strength was no match for the natural physical advantage of men. The sound of fabric tearing and the vulgar laughter of the bodyguards drove me to the brink of despair.

For a moment, I even shamefully wished Sutton would appear to save me.

Suddenly, the force pressing me down eased. I broke free, clutching my daughter’s belongings tightly to my chest.

Queenie leaned in close and whispered, “I purposely lured Sutton away. Your daughter deserved to die long ago.”

In an instant, the noisy world went silent. I lunged at Queenie, my hands gripping her neck tightly. “You’re the one who deserves to die!”

“Cheyenne, are you crazy?” Sutton suddenly appeared, pulling me off her and shielding Queenie in his arms.

Queenie clutched her throat, coughing violently as she looked at Sutton with feigned weakness. “I was just trying to help her clean up,” she said softly.

Sutton glared at me in fury. “Take her upstairs and confine her,” he ordered.

How ridiculous. He had eyes but couldn’t see, utterly blind to my injuries yet quick to believe Queenie’s pathetic lies.

I grabbed a knife from the coffee table, glaring at the approaching bodyguards with a cold intensity. “What gives you the right to take away my freedom?”

“The fact that I’m your husband,” Sutton said sternly.

I let out a cold laugh and threw the divorce papers in his face. “Not anymore.”

Sutton stared at me in disbelief, picking up the papers and flipping through them repeatedly. “Have you thought about Celeste before doing this?” he asked.

I looked at him indifferently, searching his face for traces of the man I once loved. After a long time, I gave up. With a lifeless voice that took every ounce of strength, I said, “Celeste fell into the ocean the day you celebrated Queenie’s birthday.”

Dragging my suitcase, I ignored Sutton’s pale face and walked past him without looking back.

Behind me, his panicked voice rang out. “Go! Find my daughter now!”