I Surprised Him with a Baby, He Had Another Family

A week before their anniversary, Sydney prepared a surprise for her husband, Preston Rockefeller.

At the same time, she discovered that Preston had also booked a penthouse suite at a fivestar hotel, complete with a drone show and fireworks. She was certain it was meant as a surprise for their anniversary, and her heart filled with joy.

Sydney clutched the pregnancy test stick, her heart brimming with anticipation.

However, on the day of their anniversary, she dressed up carefully early in the morning and waited for Preston’s invitation.

But she waited all day, and nothing came. Instead, she spotted a familiar figure on Savannah’s Instagram post.

Savannah, wearing a shy expression, nestled in a man’s arms. Only half of his face was visible—but Sydney instantly recognized him as Preston.

Caption: Thank you, husband, for the anniversary surprise. I love it~

Sydney’s blood froze.

How… could this be possible?!

Five years ago, Preston had been in a car accident so bad he slipped into a coma. At the worst possible moment, Savannah ran off abroad, dodging their supposed arranged marriage. That’s when the Adelsons brought Sydney back—the real heiress—to take Savannah’s place and marry Preston.

After the wedding, she took care of him like a devoted wife. Slowly, painstakingly, he recovered. In turn, he promised her that from then on, he’d be loyal to her.

Though cold and reserved, he had always treated her with unwavering respect.

Knowing she loved flowers, he had bought her an entire rose estate so she could wake up every day to almost a hundred freshly picked blooms.

When she had been mocked as a country bumpkin, he had spent twentyeight million on an antique ring and knelt to place it on her hand, defending her honor.

When she had been trapped in a car accident, gasoline leaking everywhere, he had thrown caution to the wind, pried open the car door with his bare hands, and even as all ten fingers were shredded, he had saved her life.

Everyone had said Sydney was lucky; she had a devoted and wealthy husband. She had believed it, too.

She had never doubted that he would stay faithful. Yet now… she rushed to the hotel lobby, her heart hammering.

Her phone buzzed midstep.

A contact that had been inactive for five years flashed a message she most feared.

[Your husband’s cheating on you.]

Attached was a video.

The moment Sydney tapped play, the world spun out of control. Indeed, her husband was making out with another woman—Savannah.

The Preston Sydney knew was never like this—never lost control like that. Yet on the video, there was hunger in his eyes, his hands crawling all over Savannah’s naked body.

The affair drained Sydney’s face of color. Her hands trembled beyond her control, the phone threatening to fall. She felt dizzy, as if a big hand gripped her heart.

The man in the video was both familiar and strange.

Preston was always gentle and restrained with her, never showing such a loss of control.

She didn’t know how she ended up standing outside the penthouse suite door.

The door wasn’t closed tightly. She immediately saw the old couple completely naked and embracing on the couch. Soon, the last string in Sydney’s mind just snapped.

In between panting, Savannah’s voice cut through.

“Honey… thanks to you tricking Sydney into signing the heart transfer, our son got the transplant. Poor Julien didn’t make it. Sydney didn’t throw a fit, right?”

What the hell did she just say?!

Sydney’s fists clenched so tightly her nails tore into her palms. Her ears rang. She couldn’t believe those words.

The next second, the familiar voice of his husband followed.

“She will never know that Julien’s heart went to Chicago,” he reassured Savannah.

Savannah giggled. “I knew you loved me and Chicago the most. Today’s our third anniversary since we registered our marriage. You’re not going anywhere…”

Sydney bit her lips. Tears wet her face, her complexion pale as paper.

His words were like a sharp blade dipped in arsenic, stirring violently in her heart, shredding flesh and bone, causing her whole body to tremble in pain.

The enormous shock and pain overwhelmed her like a tornado.

Julien was also his son! How could he bear to watch him die?!

Three years ago, their son was born with congenital heart disease. The doctor said that without a heart transplant, he wouldn’t live past three.

She waited so long. Finally, before Julien’s third birthday, a suitable heart appeared, but the hospital suddenly canceled the transplant an hour before surgery. The poor boy could only die on the cold operating table.

They said the donor changed their mind. Sydney was in pain but could only accept it.

Now, she just heard that Preston gave the heart to Savannah’s son. How could Sydney accept it?!

Savannah’s son only had arrhythmia and didn’t need a heart transplant. Sydney’s son, without that heart, could only die on the cold operating table!

Her nails dug into her flesh, blood dripping from her fingertips, yet she felt no pain.

Her body seemed torn apart. The hotel had the air conditioning on, but she felt freezing all over.

Just then, the memories of the past three years surged up.

No wonder. No wonder Preston had abandoned her and Julien for overseas business trips, sometimes lasting weeks. Chicago—Savannah’s child—was actually Preston’s son!

When did it start?

The first time—when she had given birth to Julien and hemorrhaged. The situation was critical and needed a family member’s consent. The hospital called Preston, but he hadn’t answered. She gritted her teeth and signed the consent form herself, and only then did the hospital operate on her.

The second time—Julien’s birthday, and they had planned to go to an amusement park together as a family of three. She waited all evening with Julien, who cried himself to sleep. Preston never showed.

The third time—Julien suffered a sudden cardiac arrest. Sydney had called frantically outside the operating room. But Preston’s assistant just gave a brutal response.

“Mr. Rockefeller is in a meeting. Handle it yourself.”

She had always excused Preston’s absences, thinking he was just busy with work.

It turned out that every single time, he had been with Savannah and their child!

Sydney’s lips split, and blood filled her mouth. Her chest ached so fiercely she could barely breathe.

Her own husband had actually tricked her into signing the heart transfer agreement—forcing her to give up Julien’s only chance at life. How could Preston be so fucking cruel?

The intimate sounds continued in the video. Her stomach turned violently. She felt sick to her core.

The man she had loved for three years had killed her son.

Sydney’s resolve hardened. She dialed a number she had not contacted in five years.

“Brooks, fine, let’s get married. Come for me in a week. I’ll handle the divorce.”

A deep and familiar voice came from the phone.

“Finally, Sydney, you see it clearly. Preston doesn’t deserve you. Come back ASAP. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Sydney nose stung. She swallowed back a sob, explaining, “He killed Julien. I want Preston to pay for that!”

On the other end, Brooks Stryker’s voice carried a cold edge.

“Anyone who harms the Strykers will regret it,” he swore.

After hanging up, Sydney’s eyes hardened.

She would leave Preston for good!

The Strykers weren't just a wealthy family. They were the most mysterious toptier tycoons in the capital, controlling the country’s entire economy.

Sydney lifted her hand to caress her lower belly. The surprise she had planned for Preston no longer felt necessary—after today, there was nothing left to tell him.

She turned and walked toward the cemetery.

Today was Julien’s birthday. Alone, Sydney knelt in front of her son’s grave.

The tombstone was cold and bare, not a single flower laid there. Preston hadn’t even glanced at his son once.

The night air was chilling, but not nearly as cold as the hollow ache in Sydney’s chest.

‘My baby… You could have survived if only your father hadn’t given your heart to Chicago instead,’ she thought, her chest aching and suffocating her.

She failed to protect him, and she blamed herself for that.

Her fingers trembled as they brushed over Julien’s face etched into stone. “My baby… those who hurt you—they’ll get what they deserve…” she promised through clenched teeth.

Exhausted, she dragged herself home. But when she pushed open the door, the scene that greeted her ripped her chest apart—Preston and Savannah were celebrating Chicago’s birthday.

The table was laden with food, a cake pristine and sweet, and the three of them wore smiles that seemed to mock her grief.

Preston’s long, elegant fingers shelled lobster one by one, carefully placing the meat on Savannah’s plate.

The tenderness in his gaze stabbed at Sydney like knives.

He had always been obsessive about cleanliness. Every time he ate lobster, Sydney had shelled each one for him. And now… he was doing it for Savannah.

Chicago stood on his chair, yelling for cake. Preston didn’t scold him at all; he cut the cake and gave him a slice, coaxing him gently and patiently.

The scene reminded Sydney of her own son, the memory of him so painful she had to catch her breath.

Preston had never once celebrated a birthday with Julien. The father that he was had been “too busy,” and when he was home, he was stern. ‘Boys shouldn’t be delicate,’ he would say, never embracing Julien, never feeding him at the table.

Julien had died without ever seeing his father celebrate him. Meanwhile, Savannah’s son easily won Preston’s affection.

Sydney bit down on her trembling lips, refusing to let the tears fall.

Savannah noticed her and smiled faintly. “Oh, Sydney, you’re home. Why so quiet? Can’t stand to see Chicago and me?”

Preston lifted his head, and his gaze fell on Sydney. His once relaxed features quickly twisted with displeasure.

“Come on, Sydney. Savannah is your sister. She and Chicago just returned to the country, so they’ll be staying here from now on. As the older sister, you should be more understanding. Don’t try to compete with her in everything.”

Sydney’s lips curled into a bitter, mocking smile. “Preston… Do you even know what day it is today?”

He frowned but didn’t respond.

Her eyes flared red as she forced the emotion down. “It’s Julien’s birthday, too.”

Her Julien lay alone in the cold cemetery, and his father hadn’t even looked at him. Yet here Preston was, celebrating Savannah’s son.

Was this man even human?

For a brief moment, guilt flickered across his eyes.

Savannah and Chicago had just returned to the country today, and it was the boy’s birthday. There were too many things going on; Preston had forgotten it was also Julien’s birthday, too.

“It’s Chicago’s birthday. I couldn’t leave…” he explained.

Before he could finish what he was saying, Sydney laughed bitterly and turned away.

She didn’t want to hear how much Preston adored Chicago—that only deepened her grief for Julien.

She returned to her room. Savannah followed, dripping fake concern.

“Sydney,” she said, “I know Julien’s death is hard for you. But he was born with a congenital heart defect. His life was suffering, death… was a release for him.”

Sydney shivered. Julien was her deepest wound, and Savannah deliberately tore at it.

She couldn't bear it any longer, she raised her hand and slapped Savannah in the face without hesitation.

“What are you doing?!” Preston’s cold voice cut through the air.

Savannah clutched her face and leaned into him. “Preston, I was only trying to show concern for her. And yet… she hit me! Does she not want me and Chicago to stay here?”

Preston’s eyes darkened. The next second, his hand came down on Sydney with full force.

It was so strong that the world spun in Sydney’s eyes, her ears ringing from the blow.

“From today,” Preston announced, “the master bedroom goes to Savannah. You move to the guest room!”

Feeling something wet by her ear, Sydney reached up and touched warm, sticky, and red liquid.

Sydney’s eyes widened in disbelief as they stared at Preston.

Savannah then softly said, “Sydney, that look… You mean you don’t want to give me the master bedroom?”

Preston looked at Sydney with disgust. “Such jealousy. Perhaps I was too good to you these past years. Since you have forgotten your place… then maybe the confinement room will help you reflect.”

The words echoed in her head. ‘Confinement room?!’

Before she could protest, she was dragged into a dark and airtight room.

Worse, she had claustrophobia.

In an instant, panic and suffocation hit her in tandem. “Let me out! Preston, I’m scared of the dark! Let me out!”

Outside, Preston’s brow furrowed, a moment of hesitation softening him, but then Savannah’s whisper reached him.

“Hey, are you feeling sorry for her? She grew up in the countryside, remember? She can’t be scared of the dark. She’s faking it. Five years ago, she forced me abroad and stole you from me… Now, she’s playing the same games.”

Preston knelt beside Savannah. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he reassured her, leaving Sydney trapped.

Her heart sank as their footsteps faded.

He had really locked her in here.

Tears spilled uncontrollably. She curled up, digging her nails into her flesh, biting her lips until they bled.

In her bloodshot eyes burned nothing but hatred.

In the dead of night, warm liquid splashed her face, the stench hitting her.

She snapped her eyes open in terror. A massive dog’s head loomed above her.

“Ahhh!” she screamed.

The next second, sharp teeth sank into her arm.

She struggled violently, but there was no escape. Flesh tore from her arm, thigh, and back.

The sealed room was filled with the stench of blood.

Crawling to the door while covered in blood, she cried out for help with all her strength. “Someone! Save me… Preston, help me! Let me out!”

But no matter how she screamed, the door stayed tightly shut.

Drawn by the scent of blood, the dog grew even more frenzied, lunging for her neck.

“Ugh—”

At that point, pain exploded through her body, and she coughed up a mouthful of blood. Shortly after, she blacked out.

Sydney woke up in the hospital.

Her entire body ached, and her delicate throat was wrapped in layers of gauze. The moment she tried to speak, it felt as if sharp knives were cutting through her throat, sending cold sweat down her spine.

“I…”

The nurse hurriedly stopped her. “Your throat is seriously injured. You can’t speak for now.”

Sydney picked up her phone and saw Savannah’s latest Instagram post.

At the amusement park, Preston held Chicago’s hand on one side, Savannah on the other—the three looking like a perfect happy family.

Sydney’s gaze darkened instantly, fists clenching so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Before Julien died, his greatest wish had been for Preston to take him to the amusement park. But the poor boy had never gotten that chance.

Not even on his birthday did Preston show up. They waited day and night for him, but he never came.

He said he was busy with work. But Sydney knew too well that was just an excuse!

Three whole years, he spared not a single day for Julien, yet the moment Savannah returned to New York, he immediately whisked her and Chicago off to the amusement park.

Sydney threw back the covers and tried to stand.

The nurse grew worried. “Hey, you can’t leave yet! You’re heavily injured and pregnant! If you must be discharged, your family has to come get you.”

Family?

A bitter laugh escaped Sydney’s lips. The Adelsons had always treated her like a tool. And her husband…

Ever since Savannah and her son returned, Preston had probably already forgotten his wife existed.

The moment she stepped through the villa’s door, her blood boiled.

An Alaskan malamute wore a tiny outfit. To be specific, it was Julien’s outfit!

Every piece of the boy’s belongings had been carefully preserved by her, treasured like a lifeline. And now, someone had desecrated them like this!

Rage ignited inside her right there and then. Ignoring her injuries, she lunged to snatch the clothes.

Just then, Preston and Savannah walked in with Chicago.

The kid swung a wooden stick at Sydney. “Bad woman! Don’t hurt Loki! I’ll beat you to death! I’ll beat you to death, bad woman!”

But Sydney’s eyes were fixed only on Julien’s clothes.The next second, she shoved the kid aside.

The kid toppled to the floor and started wailing.

Preston’s face darkened instantly. He scooped up Chicago, soothing him, then spun around to scold Sydney.

“What’s gotten into you?!”

Her eyes were bloodshot, fury clouding all reason. “Preston, that’s Julien’s clothing! You’re putting Julien’s clothes on a dog!”

Savannah frowned. “It’s just a piece of clothing. Why make such a fuss? I can just buy her a new one. Sydney, there’s no need to hit a child over something so trivial.”

“You can’t replace it!” Sydney shot back. “Julien is dead, and you dare to humiliate him like this?!”

“That’s enough!” Preston’s voice cut through.

His gaze turned cold, sharp as a blade, his face hard with fury. “It’s just a piece of clothing. Is it really worth making such a scene? Seriously, Sydney, you’re becoming increasingly unruly!”

Sydney stared at him, dumbfounded.

‘Just a piece of clothing…’ she repeated in her head.

“Preston, that’s Julien’s clothing!” she roared.

Preston’s brows furrowed. “For god’s sake, Sydney, Julien is dead! How long are you going to keep this up?”

Sydney fell silent, her heart shattering.

How could someone be so coldblooded?

Julien was his child, too.

At that moment, Chicago tugged Preston’s hand, pouting. “Loki doesn’t have a room yet. Can he stay in the room upstairs?”

Without hesitation, Preston replied, “Sure.”

The secondfloor room was Julien’s room. Sydney’s pupils constricted, fury igniting in her eyes.

Preston wanted to give Julien’s room to a dog?!

Feeling invincible with Preston’s support, Chicago went further. He threw Julien’s favorite stuffed toy to the dog.

That toy had been Julien’s constant companion, smelled of him, and the only thing Sydney could hug each night to get any sleep.

Now, the toy was clamped between the dog’s teeth.

Pain twisted her insides like a knife in agony. Her chest felt pierced, heartache so sharp it was unbearable.

Teeth gritted, emotions spiraling out of control, she lunged for the toy—but Chicago shoved her hard.

Her forehead slammed against the crimson table corner; blood gushed instantly.

She couldn’t stand. Blood streamed over her lashes, her vision drowned in the red blurring her vision until everything around her turned scarlet.

Preston’s eyes flickered. His hand lifted, then he heard Savannah whisper.

“Preston, my hand really hurts.”

Preston immediately scooped her up and walked out, not even glancing at Sydney on the floor.

Sydney forced her eyes open. All she saw was Preston’s cold and distant back and Savannah’s triumphant smirk.

Every bone, every fiber in Sydney’s body hurt. But none of it compared to the agony in her chest!

Blood kept flowing, her temperature dropping. Her face turned as pale as paper; her brown pupils were like bottomless pits filled with pain and hatred…

Suddenly, her phone rang. It was Brooks.

With great effort, she picked up the phone.

On the other end of the line, Brooks said coldly, “I’ve found a divorce lawyer for you. Sydney… don’t make me wait too long.”

Sydney walked out of the hospital by herself and headed straight to a divorce lawyer.

The divorce papers were already prepared. The lawyer glanced at her seriously. “Ma’am, Mr. Stryker asked me to pass along a message.”

He relayed, “Don’t forget—you have my family behind you. Even if everything falls apart, someone will be there to catch you.”

Sydney’s eyes stung, and she clenched the papers tightly in her hand.

She had been reckless—leaving the Strykers to return to her own, stubbornly marrying Preston despite knowing better. Now, she knew just how ridiculously wrong she had been.

All along, the man who truly loved her in this world was in the Strykers.

With that realization, she took the divorce agreement and went to the company to find Preston.

But she hadn’t even reached the upper floor when his assistant stopped her.

With a blank expression, the assistant said, “Sir Preston is in a meeting. He doesn’t have time to see you.”

A chill swept through Sydney’s eyes. She should have guessed Preston had cheated. Otherwise, how could his assistant speak to her like this?

At that moment, Savannah arrived.

Seeing Sydney, her face darkened. Crossing her arms, she sneered, “What are you doing here? Preston doesn’t want to see you at all. Girl, take my advice—wake up and stop clinging to him. The woman he loves is me.”

Sydney returned the cold gaze, holding up the divorce papers. “If you don’t want to be the shameful mistress your whole life, then have Preston sign this.”

Savannah took the document, surprised and hesitant for a moment. It didn’t take long before greed flashed in her eyes as she realized they were genuine divorce papers.

“You’re really divorcing Preston?” she asked, trying to mask her excitement.

But Sydney just made a move to leave. Fearing she might change her mind, Savannah wasted no time; she pushed the meeting room door open.

This time, the assistant didn’t even try to stop the visitor. His boss had specifically told Savannah she could enter anywhere freely.

When Preston saw her, there was no trace of annoyance at being interrupted. Instead, his expression softened as he asked her gently.

“Savannah, what brings you here?”

Savannah flipped straight to the last page. “Preston, sign here.”

He didn’t even glance at it; he just signed his name.

Seeing how easy it was for him, Sydney let out a bitter smile.

‘So this is what it means when he loves someone—meetings can be interrupted, documents can be signed without a glance,’ she thought.

She had once foolishly thought he loved her. ‘Damn, that’s hilarious,’ she thought to herself.

Savannah handed the signed divorce papers back to Sydney. “Here. Don’t pester him again.”

Sydney took them and went straight to the clerk’s office.

She glanced outside; rain had started, cold and fine, whipping through the wind. She wrapped her coat tighter around herself, still shivering.

When she stepped back into the villa, she saw Preston and Savannah on the couch, entwined in intimacy.

Sydney turned a blind eye and headed upstairs.

But Savannah wasn’t done with her.

“Hey, Sydney. You grew up in the countryside, didn’t you? You must be good at cooking, right? I haven’t had much of an appetite lately. I want some soup made by you.”

Sydney’s face remained blank. “I’m not your maid,” she replied flatly.

Savannah pouted and whined at Preston. “Preston, I just want some soup. But she won’t even make it for me. Is she still mad that we let Loki stay in Julien’s room?”

Preston frowned, his eyes darkening as he glanced at Sydney. “It’s just a bowl of soup. You’ve used to make it before. If Savannah wants it, make it for her.”

Sydney froze. At that point, it felt like all the love she had poured out had gone to the dogs.

She had been pampered by the Strykers since childhood—her foster parents and Brooks had treated her like a little princess, never letting her touch chores.

She had learned to cook only for Preston because he was picky and refused anything the servants made. Feeling sorry for him, she took the initiative to learn.

Her hands had been burned with blisters more than a dozen times, every finger cut and scarred, before she finally mastered the skill.

And now that had become the very reason he bossed around her.

But Sydney sneered, firmly enunciating, “I won’t do it.”

She turned to leave when Preston’s face darkened. He barked, “Stop! If you want Julien’s ashes, go make the goddamn soup!”

Sydney spun around, disbelief and rage igniting. “Preston! What have you done?! You dug up Julien’s ashes?!”

Preston frowned at her furious gaze.

Savannah, pretending to reason, stoked the fire. “Don’t blame Preston, Sydney. After Chicago returned to the country, he wasn’t feeling well. Someone said some unclean spirit was harming him, so Preston had Julien’s ashes dug up.”

Sydney glared at Preston. “You fucking dug up Julien’s ashes?! Aren’t you afraid of karma?”

Savannah clutched her mouth, gasping. “Sydney! How can you curse Preston like that?”

Preston’s expression turned menacing. “Get lost! Make the soup!”

Sydney’s chest heaved violently, rage threatening to scorch her sanity.

Her Julien had been so obedient, so gentle, tormented by illness in life, and now, even in death, he was disturbed.

She couldn’t let him suffer further.

For him, she went to the kitchen.

The soup was ready when Savannah suddenly cried out, “Ouch! My hand! Sydney! Why did you pour this hot soup on me?!”

Hearing the panic, Preston rushed over and held Savannah in his arms.

His gaze, dark and murderous, shot to Sydney. “Do you want to die?!”

Sydney stood tall, her back straight. “I didn’t do it. She’s pretending.”

Veins bulging on his forehead, his eyes cold as steel, Preston suddenly pressed Sydney’s hand into the boiling soup.

“Ahhh!”

Her scream of agony tore through the room. Waves of searing pain crashed through every nerve ending, her hand’s skin instantly reddened, blisters swelling and spreading her skin. The sight of it was grotesque and alarming to look at.

She bit her lip hard, body convulsing in agony, struggling desperately but unable to escape the searing agony that reached her bones.

Her tears mingled with sweat, blurring her vision.

After a while, Preston finally let go but hit her in the belly. “Savannah treats you like a sister, but you’re so wicked you purposely tried to burn her hand! If anything happens to her, I swear I will never forgive you!”

After that, he dashed off with Savannah to the hospital.

Meanwhile, Sydney lay on the floor, blood pooling beneath her. She knew exactly what that meant.

Her face was pale as death. The pain was worse than death itself.

The sharp scent of disinfectant hit her nose. Sydney woke up in the hospital again.

The blisters on her hands had been drained and bandaged.

The bad news—she had miscarried. Another child of hers was gone.

Her eyes went vacant, her heart a barren wasteland.

She couldn’t protect Julien, nor could she keep the baby she was carrying.

Just then, the hospital room door was suddenly kicked open with a bang.

Preston stormed in, his rage consuming him. He grabbed Sydney by the collar and yanked her up.

“Sydney! Look at the mess you’ve caused! Do you hate Savannah that much, that you had to steal everything from her?!” he shouted in one breath. “You’re already my wife! What more do you want? Why hurt Savannah and Chicago?!”

Her forehead glistened with sweat from the pain. “II never hurt Savannah…”

But Preston didn’t even give her a chance to explain.

He just quickly threw her to the floor like trash, his eyes shooting her daggers.

“Because of your jealousy, you burned her hand! Because of you, Chicago ran a high fever! I swear, Sydney, you will pay for what you’ve done!”

The next second, she was dragged from the general ward to the VIP suite.

He forced her head down, making her apologize to Savannah.

Over and over, her knees reddened, blood trickling down her pale legs, staining the floor.

Her expression went blank, her body numb from pain. She didn’t even have the strength to resist.

After almost a hundred times of forcing her to kneel, Preston finally stopped.

As she lost consciousness, she heard his cold, sharp voice in her ear.

“This is the price you pay for hurting Savannah…”

This time, Sydney remained unconscious for three days.

When she finally opened her eyes, a familiar figure stood before her.

Preston’s brow was tired, his forehead slightly furrowed, and his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

“You’re awake. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? The doctor says you just miscarried; you need to rest,” he said. “Don’t be jealous of Savannah anymore. As long as you behave, I won’t divorce you. To the public, you will always be my wife.”

He pressed, “Chicago hasn’t been well lately. Sydney, look, you gotta be more understanding. If you can’t help me, at the very least, don’t make things harder. You and Savannah will continue living under the same roof. You must get along with her.”

“Hah.” Sydney scoffed. “Preston, what do you even think I am? A fool?”

They killed her son and now expect her to get along with Savannah? Did this jerk really think Sydney was that easy to manipulate?

Preston frowned, showing a subtle warning in his tone. “Savannah grew up in the Adelsons. Her bond with them isn’t something you can compete with. Sydney, continuing this will only hurt you.”

Sydney lowered her gaze, a contemptuous smile curling on her lips.

“Preston, I don’t want the Adelsons anymore. And I don’t want you either.”

If it weren’t for seeing her own blood once more, she would never have returned to the Adelsons, nor would she have married him.

The Adelsons only wanted to use her. At first, they pretended to feel guilty. But after she married Preston, the pretense ended. They treated the fake heiress as their real daughter and never cared whether Sydney lived or died.

Her words hit Preston, but he dismissed them as capricious defiance.

His voice turned colder, irritation flashing in his eyes. “Sydney, even jealousy has its limits. I’m busy, you know. I don’t have time to coddle you.”

Sydney’s stomach turned at his hypocrisy.

Losing her temper, she slammed the glass down, shattering it, and pointed at the door. “Get out! I don’t want to see you!”

Her defiance ignited his anger.

His face darkened, he kicked the door hard, then stormed off. The door slammed against the wall with a deafening crash.

Meanwhile, in the CEO’s office of the Strykers Corporation, the door opened.

The assistant placed the wedding proposal in front of Brooks.

“Sir, the company drafted a few wedding plans for your review.”

Behind the desk, the man in a tailored suit exuded sharp authority. His cold eyes scanned the assistant, slender fingers tapping lightly on the desk.

“What did the lawyer say?”

“Ma’am Sydney has already divorced Preston, sir.”

A faint smile tugged at Brooks’s lips. “Announce it publicly—I’m getting married.”

After five long years of waiting, Sydney was finally coming back to him.

All of New York was abuzz, everyone desperate to know the identity of the mysterious bride of the Strykers’ heir.

Even Preston had heard the news.

Savannah called Preston’s name again and again. “Preston? Preston?”

But he didn’t respond. She curled her lip in annoyance.

“Are you thinking about Sydney? You’ve been with her these past few days. Have you fallen for her? Don’t forget she forced me to go abroad, stole you from me, and even tried to burn me!”

Preston quickly set his work aside and soothed her in a soft voice. “What are you saying? How could she compare to you?”

But Savannah wouldn’t let it go. “I don’t believe you—unless you give me Sydnora. Then I’ll believe you.”

He hesitated for a few seconds.

Sydnora was a company Sydney had founded herself; she had always treasured it.

As if she sensed his hesitation, Savannah’s eyes brimmed with tears. She cried, guilttripping him, “I knew that five years would change everything. You used to agree to anything. You wouldn’t hesitate at all.”

Seeing her aggrieved expression, Preston couldn’t help but give in. “Alright, I’ll give it to you.”

Three days later, Sydney was discharged from the hospital and went home. Preston waited for her in the living room.

She didn’t want anything to do with him, but he handed her a document to sign: a transfer of shares for Sydnora.

“Savannah likes this company,” he said. “Transfer the shares to her.”

Sydney’s hand shook with fury as she tossed the papers into the trash. “That is my company! How dare you hand it to that woman?!”

When she’d returned to the Adelsons’ place hiding her identity, people mocked her for being a poor girl. For this reason, Preston had given her some money so she could start a business and stand on her own.

Syndora was the company she built for him and for Julien.

Over the years, she had gradually made it a recognized jewelry brand. She had planned to leave the company to her first child, but he never got to see that day.

Now, Preston expected her to give it away with a casual word.

She thought she’d grown numb. But suddenly, pain, like a thousand needles, pierced her chest.

“Preston, don’t go too far!” she snapped.

When she refused to sign, his face hardened. “You’re the reason Savannah and Chicago got hospitalized. Savannah likes your company; she’s giving you the chance to make up for what you did. Come on, Sydney, don’t be ungrateful.”

‘Ungrateful?!’ The word rang in her ears.

She ground her teeth, and in disbelief, she blurted out, “My god, Preston, I was really blind to love you for five years!”

His eyes darkened and anger rose in his chest. “If you want Julien’s ashes, then pick them up and sign.”

She couldn’t tolerate that manipulation anymore; before she knew it, her hand had already landed on his cheek, the blow so strong it left an imprint.

“Preston, Julien is your son, too! You threaten me with his ashes so you can give my company to Savannah? Are you still human?”

Preston’s Adam’s apple bobbed, a complicated emotion flickering across his face.

“I said I won’t divorce you. The company goes to Savannah. If you want children, we can have more.”

At the thought that she had once loved such a monster, Sydney felt sick.

“Ugh—” She rushed to the trash can and vomited, as if trying to empty herself of the last five years.

After she calmed, thinking of Julien, she finally signed.

After all, this would be the last day. Once she collected Julien’s ashes, she would leave Preston for good.

Outside the door, Savannah’s eyes glinted with cruelty.

‘As long as that cheap woman’s alive,’ she cursed, ‘Preston will never marry me. If that’s the case, they can’t blame me for the consequences!’

That night, Sydney and Savannah were kidnapped at the same time.

In an abandoned factory, Sydney was suspended by her feet, dangling in midair; Savannah hung beside her.

Sydney heard the kidnapper call Preston. “Mr. Rockefeller, I’ve got your women. If you want to save them, come alone.”

Preston acted fast, arriving at the location.

The first thing he did was check on Savannah, scanning her up and down nervously, and only after confirming she was uninjured did he breathe a sigh of relief.

A long time had passed before he remembered his wife.

He glanced at Sydney—only a casual look, nothing like the urgency he’d shown for Savannah just moments ago.

He turned to the kidnapper, asking, “How much do you want?”

At that question, the kidnapper twisted into a sinister grin and shoved a knife toward his captives. “Easy, Mr. Rockefeller. Why don’t we play a game? You can take one of these two women. The other one—she’s mine. What do you say?”

“No way!” Preston’s gaze went cold and fierce. He rejected the idea without hesitation.

The kidnapper burst into laughter, his eyes murderous. “Unfortunately for you—it’s not your choice. If you won’t pick, they both die with me.”

Preston clenched his fists, veins standing out.

When he stayed silent, Savannah suddenly spoke up. “Preston, the kidnappers are with my sister! I overheard them—Sydney’s actually jealous of me and staged the whole thing to frame me! Don’t be fooled!”

In a flash, that made Preston’s anger snap toward Sydney. Under his fierce stare, she didn’t flinch.

“If I said I didn’t do it, would you believe me?” she asked indifferently.

He obviously didn’t… because he chose Savannah.

In return, Savannah was freed and fell into his arms. He held her and looked at Sydney hanging there, his eyes cold and empty.

“Since you like playing these games, then play as long as you want.”

“Preston.” Sydney forced herself to speak. “Five years ago, I didn’t force Savannah to leave the country.”

He stopped midstep when their eyes met, his heart suddenly tightening.

When she saw him hesitate, Savannah’s heart suddenly gripped with fear that he might believe Sydney.

She hurried to explain, “Preston, I love you so much. You know that. How could I leave you? She’s just jealous of me, so she’s trying to draw a wedge between us!”

Just like that, her tears and pitiful performance made Preston’s doubt instantly vanish.

He gently wiped away her tears.

When he lifted his head, in an instant, the warmth in his eyes vanished and only ruthless chill remained.

“Savannah’s pure and kind,” he declared. “Sydney, you’ve singled her out again and again. If I don’t give you a little lesson you won’t learn.”

The next second, he turned to the kidnapper, saying, “How much do you want? I’ll pay double. Make sure she learns something.”

Without taking the words back, he left with Savannah.

Sydney was left there, unable to believe how cold Preston’s heart could be.

As she watched the two walk away, she swore, “Preston! Savannah! I swear—both of you will pay for this!”

The kidnapper, pleased with double payment for one job, pressed the knife to Sydney’s skin. Before it touched her, a bullet tore through the wrist holding the blade.

A shadowed figure stepped down from a hovering winged craft and walked forward.

Brooks carefully caught Sydney in his arms. “Hey.My dear fiancée, I came to take you home.”