My Mom was pushed off 24th floor by my husband's Lover

He'd carry me to the bathroom when I was on an IV drip, tell me soft stories when I couldn't sleep, and even catch my vomit with his hands without hesitation when I got sick unexpectedly. All the nurses in the hospital envied me, saying Nathaniel Sterling must be madly in love with me. But only I knew the truth-he did all this either to keep me in line so he could continue protecting Isabella Rose, or to ease his own guilty conscience. It was never because of love. Five days later, I was discharged and went home. As soon as I opened the door, I saw Isabella Rose and her son Ethan Sterling sitting on the sofa watching TV. Her high heels had dirtied the cashmere carpet I'd just bought. The clay figurine Nathaniel Sterling had made for me by hand was being used by her as an ashtray for sunflower seed shells. And Ethan Sterling was scribbling on our wedding photo with a marker, scrawling three harsh words across my once-happy smile-"Bitch!" My heart constricted sharply. I forced down my anger and asked: "What are you doing here?" Isabella Rose curled her lips into a smile, her tone triumphant: "Your mom died in my old penthouse-it's so unlucky! The new villa Junci bought me is still being cleaned, so I have to stay here for a few days. After all, this is my son's father's home. It's only right for me to live here." She changed her tone, her eyes brimming with provocation: "If you don't agree, little sister Willow, I'll just have to go find my ex-husband-the one I just divorced abroad. He's been pestering me to remarry lately!" My wrist was suddenly grabbed tightly. Looking up, I saw Nathaniel Sterling's jaw was clenched tight, ice forming in his eyes: "She agrees. You and our son can stay as long as you want." I sneered inwardly-he was jealous, just as I thought. Seeing me stay silent, Nathaniel Sterling turned to me, his tone an unyielding command: "Willow, you're so good at taking care of people. While Isabella and Eathan are staying here, I'll have to trouble you. Isabella is picky about her food, and Eathan is young and mischievous. Please be patient with them. I won't let your efforts go unrewarded, hmm?" I remembered our wedding night-Nathaniel Sterling had kissed each of my fingers and vowed that he'd never let my hands touch housework for the rest of my life. But now, he was making me personally wait on the woman who'd killed my parents. It was like he was trampling my dignity and humanity into the dirt. I closed my eyes, suppressing all my emotions, and said softly: "Okay." I knew perfectly well that this wasn't the time to fall out with them. There was something important I needed to do while I was still in this house... Soon enough, I learned just how difficult Isabella Rose and her son were to please. If even one Crab in a plate still had its vein unremoved, she'd dump the entire dish-soup and all-on the floor and point her finger at me, yelling: "Disgusting trash! Make it again!" Then she'd force me to get on my knees and wipe the floor clean. If the warm milk before bed was even one degree too cold, she'd splash it straight in my face and sneer: "Useless thing! Why can't you be this attentive when you're servicing Junci in bed?" Ethan Sterling was just as arrogant and mean. Just because I hadn't put on a cartoon for him before he went to the bathroom, he smashed the bathroom mirror and made me pick up every shard of glass by hand. My hands were covered in cuts, bleeding profusely, but when Nathaniel Sterling walked past, he just gave me a casual glance and said to Ethan Sterling: "Son, stand back. Don't get cut." I thought if I endured long enough, I'd eventually be able to leave safely. But I never expected that that night, while I was searching the backyard for the bracelet Isabella Rose had deliberately thrown out the window, Nathaniel Sterling suddenly stormed over. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me up roughly, his face furious: "Willow, what did Eathan do to deserve this? How could you be so cruel to a five-year-old child!" I stared at him in confusion, unable to break free: "What are you talking about?" "Stop pretending!" Nathaniel Sterling snapped, shoving me away so hard that I stumbled and fell into the rosebushes nearby. The sharp thorns pierced my palms, and the excruciating pain made me gasp. Blood instantly stained the petals red.