Revenge on My Dad's Mistress

: Moving In

3

My mom was so heartbroken she fell ill and became bedridden.

The two children then brazenly moved into our home.

They even had their names picked out. The boy was called Julian Rowan, the girl Lila Rowan, and my name is Sienna Rowan.

Ironically, they were three months older than me.

Only now did I understand why my father, who hated cooking, would disappear into the kitchen with Janelle Kane for ages whenever she visited.

And why Janelle Kane always managed to show up when my mother was out, and why I, just a child, would be shut in my room and not let out for a long time.

Unfortunately, my mom saw the truth too late. The shameless Janelle Kane, emboldened by my father's inaction, grew more and more audacious.

She even quit her job and just hung around the house all day, doing whatever she could to get under our skin.

"Tina, why don't you just divorce Hugh? There's no love left between you two. Dragging this on is really not good for your daughter!"

"You're still young. You should find someone else. When Sienna Rowan grows up, she'll thank you for it."

My mom told her to get out, but the recurring high fevers of the past few days had left her weak and drained.

Her words had no intimidating effect on Janelle Kane whatsoever.

The vixen mother was shameless, and her two children weren't about to be outdone.

Lila Rowan was always looking for chances to talk to me. One day, she took a liking to a small teddy bear of mine and asked for it. I refused.

When she saw my dad coming, she immediately dropped to her knees in front of me.

That trick of theirs worked every single time!

"Sister, please don't hit me! I just touched it, I didn't break it."

For someone so young, Lila Rowan's acting was superb. Tears streamed down her face as if they were worthless.

During that time, our home was constantly shrouded in the sounds of arguing, fighting, and crying. The toxic atmosphere was suffocating and made everyone on edge.

My father was completely wrapped around Janelle Kane's little finger, ensnared by her honey-sweet words.

In the days that followed, my mom and dad argued constantly.

My father started smashing things more and more often. The flood of unbearable curses surrounded me day and night, a living nightmare.

For several days in a row, I couldn't sleep at all once night fell.

I would go to the swing set under the old banyan tree in the yard. My dad had made it for me.

In my memories, no matter how tired he was after a long day of work, my father would always come home and greet my mother and me with a smile.

My father was very handy. He'd make me a little wooden horse, the swing set, and lots of other strange and wonderful little gadgets.

To be honest, in my heart, my father had once been like Superman to me.

But I never imagined that all these years, in the corners of his life we couldn't see, he had been doing so many things to break our hearts.

The constant arguments of the past few days had left my father mentally and physically exhausted.

In the quiet of the night, from a corner of the dimly lit living room, I caught a glimpse of my father smoking alone on the balcony.

"Hugh, still awake?"

A woman's voice, as gentle as flowing water, drifted over.

Janelle Kane walked over softly, carrying a jacket.

The light purple silk nightgown she wore revealed every curve of her figure.

Standing at the edge of the balcony, the pale, bright moonlight made her look even more graceful and enchanting, full of flirtatious charm.

She draped the jacket over my father's shoulders, her movements gentle.

"Want to talk about it?"

She offered a perfectly measured smile, her gaze swirling in the hazy play of light and shadow.

You should never try to test human nature. Just as Keigo Higashino said: "There are two things in this world you cannot look at directly: one is the sun, and the other is the human heart."

The amount of time my father had spent with Janelle Kane was no less than the time he'd spent with my mother.

A relationship so close, yet unattainable, was all the more likely to make one's heart itch with desire.