Chapter 2

As soon as I opened the door, a wave of warm air and the scent of essential oils hit me.

Sienna Miller stepped out of the kitchen, wearing a silk apron, her smile even brighter than the heat in the house.

Before I could say a word, a boy shot across the room like a cannonball, grabbing Julian's leg and shouting, "Daddy! You're finally home!"

Julian instinctively tried to push Leo away, but when he saw Sienna's hopeful eyes, he patted Leo's head gently.

Sienna acted like she'd only just noticed us, pressing a hand dramatically to her mouth. "Oh my gosh, Elara, I didn't know you were coming. I'm not sure I made enough for dinner... but it's okay, Leo and I can leave now and give you all some space."

Her usual trick.

Acting like the considerate victim, always making herself look like she's sacrificing.

The old me would have been furious just seeing this—maybe even slapped her, which is exactly what she wanted.

Julian clearly remembered the old battles too. He quickly stepped in front of Sienna, turning to me with a stern warning. "Elara, we might be remarried, but this is Sienna and Leo's home too. No one is kicking them out, understood?"

Sienna's eyes filled with grateful tears as she leaned into Julian's arm, even planting a kiss on him.

Julian looked uncomfortable, glancing at me for a reaction.

But I just calmly looked around the living room, showing nothing.

"It's fine, Julian," I said gently, even pointing toward the tiny bedroom at the end of the hall—the obvious maid's room. "This is your home. Mia and I will stay in that room. That's all we need."

With that, I took Mia's hand and walked straight to the small room, not giving them another glance.

Behind Sienna, Leo made a face at us, sticking out his tongue. "At least you know your place."

That night, Julian had to go out for a business dinner.

I sorted through our old clothes in the cramped room while Mia quietly did her homework in the corner.

From the living room, Leo's TV blared.

Before long, the door burst open. Leo stormed in, snatched Mia's sketchbook from her desk, and ripped it to shreds right in front of her.

"This is my house! You don't belong here!"

Mia's hand, still holding her pencil, froze in midair. Then she slowly set it down.

She didn't cry. She didn't try to grab the torn pages. She just stared at her toes, as if she was already used to the world's cruelty.

It was late when I heard the front door's fingerprint lock beep.

Julian walked in, still reeking of alcohol.

The instant he stepped inside, Leo launched into a dramatic fit of sobs. He'd messed up his own hair and ran straight for Julian, wailing, "Daddy! That girl hit me! She said this was her house and we had to leave!"

Even drunk, Julian's face darkened instantly.

He didn't give Mia or me a chance to explain. He stormed toward our room, fury in his eyes.

The air was thick with that old, familiar tension—like a bomb about to go off.

But this time, I knew there wouldn't be a fight.

Just a silence even colder than anger.