The Bitch Who Stole My Life

Five years ago, my family burned to death in an "accident."

My loving husband Clifford signed the papers himself—shipped me off to a mental institution without a second thought.

Inside, Becky carved up my face with shattered glass. The same orphan I'd put through school. Then she rebuilt herself to match my features and stole my life—my husband, my son, everything.

Now she marched into the clinic where I scrub floors, dragging my biological child behind her, demanding I apologize to him like some servant.

She has no idea what kind of monster she created.

Teresa's POV

"Are you FUCKING kidding me? What makes trash like you think you can touch MY kid?"

The shrill voice echoed through the hallway of Manhattan's most exclusive private pediatric clinic.

I slowly lifted my head and looked at the woman in front of me, dressed in a custom Chanel suit.

Becky.

Five years later, and her face had healed beautifully. That carefully sculpted face, molded to match mine, was now twisted with rage.

Beside her stood a boy around five years old—Noah, my biological son. He was staring at me with disgust, like I was something filthy.

"Mommy, her face is scary," Noah said, shrinking behind Becky and pointing at the jagged scar running from my temple to my jaw.

I looked down at Lily behind me—my five-year-old foster daughter. Ten minutes ago, Noah had shoved her into the metal armrest of a waiting chair. Her forehead was swollen and she was fighting back tears.

The whole thing started because Lily picked up a crayon that had fallen on the floor. Noah decided a "poor kid" didn't deserve to touch his things.

"He needs to apologize," I said calmly. "My daughter is bleeding."

Becky let out a harsh laugh. "Apologize? Do you have ANY idea who we are? You're nothing but hired help, and your little BRAT got my son's crayon dirty. You want us to apologize to HER?"

I watched her perfect face. Five years ago on that stormy night, this same face had looked down at me in the psychiatric hospital's basement while I was strapped to a restraint chair.

"Teresa, you had too much. Your parents, your money, your husband... now they're all mine."

Then she'd picked up that piece of broken glass and slashed my face without hesitation. I still remembered what it felt like when blood ran into my eyes.

"I'll say it again," I stood up, looking her straight in the eye. "Apologize."

Something in my eyes made Becky instinctively step back. Just then, urgent footsteps echoed from the end of the hallway.

"Chloe, what's wrong?"

That deep, magnetic voice froze my blood instantly.

Clifford appeared at the end of the hall in a perfectly tailored suit, still carrying himself like he owned the world. Wall Street's hottest investment mogul. My former husband.

We were meeting again under these circumstances.

"Clifford!" Becky immediately put on her victim act and threw herself into his arms. "This psycho's kid hurt Noah, and now she's demanding that Noah apologize! Look at her face—it's terrifying!"

Clifford frowned, following Becky's pointing finger to look at me. When his eyes hit the scar on my face, I clearly saw his pupils contract violently.

He froze. Stared at me. Even stopped breathing.

"Teresa...?" His voice was shaking.

I looked at him calmly. The man who had once knelt in Times Square to propose, swearing he'd protect me with his life. The man who had me forcibly committed to an asylum for being "mentally unstable" after my family died in flames.

"You've got the wrong person, sir," I said flatly.

I took Lily's hand, ready to leave.

"Wait!" Clifford suddenly grabbed my arm. "Teresa, is it really you?"

"Let go." I stared at him coldly.

"Clifford, we need to GO!" Becky quickly grabbed his other arm. "Noah still needs to see the doctor!"

Of course Becky knew exactly who I was. She just didn't want me having any connection with Clifford.

But Clifford seemed deaf to her words. His gaze was locked on my face, his eyes flickering with complex emotions—shock, disbelief, even a trace of pain.

How pathetic.

"The name's Eva," I yanked my arm free. "Just a regular single mom. If you're not planning to apologize for what happened today, I'll be contacting hospital security and my lawyer."

With that, I picked up Lily and walked out of the clinic without looking back.