Three years later.
The summer sunshine in Vancouver was warm and brilliant, a stark contrast to that cold, rainy day in Seattle years ago. I sat on a park bench, smiling as I watched Leo—my three-year-old son with bright, sparkling eyes—chasing soap bubbles across the grass. He was the perfect reflection of everything good, strong, and resilient.
The trust fund from Ethan’s grandfather had been activated the moment Leo was born. That wealth not only guaranteed a lifetime of luxury for my son and me, but it also allowed me to establish a legal aid foundation dedicated to helping single mothers facing economic abuse after divorce. I was no longer the pregnant woman standing and crying in the rain. Today, I am Olivia Vu, an independent and happy businesswoman.
As for Ethan and Madison, their downfall came much faster than I anticipated.
The wedding gift I sent that day triggered an internal investigation on the very night of their honeymoon. Ethan was fired from his CEO position the following week for financial fraud. To avoid prison time, he was forced to liquidate all his existing assets—including his luxury apartment and sports car—to compensate the company for its losses. Their villa was sealed, and their bank accounts were frozen.
The moment Madison realized the man she had stolen wasn’t a wealthy heir but a man drowning in debt, her true colors immediately showed. No more designer dresses, no more lavish vacations. Madison attempted to file for divorce just six months into the marriage to liquidate and run off with her diamond ring and expensive bracelet, but Ethan found out. Their divorce battle was long, ugly, and plastered across every tabloid in Seattle. They tore each other apart, trading blame and exposing every single one of their vices to the public.
A month ago, my lawyer sent me an updated report. Ethan is currently working as a low-level insurance consultant, living in a cramped rented apartment in the suburbs, facing credit card debt every single day. Madison has left Seattle; rumor has it she is now working at a mid-tier cosmetics store, her beauty faded from stress, and not a single soul in high society will even look at the woman who betrayed her best friend.
At one point, Ethan tried to contact me through my lawyer, begging to see Leo and blabbering about “the bond of the Vu family bloodline,” hoping to get a piece of the trust fund. But my answer was simple: a permanent restraining order. I used the exact clause waiving his parental rights—which he had voluntarily signed years ago—to cut off any last remaining tie.
“Mommy, my ice cream!”
Leo’s cute, toddler voice pulled me back to reality. I stood up, smoothed down my soft silk dress, and took my son’s small hand in mine. I looked up at the clear, cloudless blue sky. The painful past had finally receded into the background, giving way to a brilliant new life. The people who hurt me paid a heavy price for their own greed, while I found true peace right beside the greatest treasure of my life.
