Chapter 1: You Cheated on Me with My Sister
“Mr. Robinson, I agree to be your son’s private doctor and take up permanent residence in Miami.”
Holding the freshly printed divorce papers, Wendy Ulrich spoke calmly into the phone.
“That’s wonderful. When will you come? I’ll pick you up.”
“A month later. I’ll head over right after the divorce is finalized.”
When the call ended, Wendy gazed desolately out the window.
At that very moment, brilliant fireworks suddenly bloomed in the distance, lighting up the pitch–black night sky. As the sparks faded, fleets of drones rose into the air, gradually forming a few bold words: Steven Price will love Queenie Ulrich forever.
The dazzling light reflected in Wendy’s dark pupils, but her eyes brimmed with bitterness.
“Miss Ulrich,” Lawyer Hill glanced at her sympathetically and reminded her kindly, “in’truth, your husband’s behavior already counts as infidelity. As long as you have evidence, all his assets could be awarded to you.”
Wendy shook her head. “I’ll only take what’s rightfully mine.”
Leaving the law firm, she originally meant to head home. Yet with a turn of the wheel, she found herself driving to the Fireworks Plaza instead.
A crowd had gathered there. At the very center stood her husband, Steven, with his arm around her younger sister, Queenie, laughing together. Meanwhile, her son, Michael Price, circled around Queenie with a bouquet of flowers clutched in his small hands.
When the drones shifted into the shape of a giant heart, Queenie bent down and gently kissed Michael on the cheek.
The onlookers immediately cheered. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
To them, the three looked exactly like a warm, happy family.
And in the midst of the noisy crowd, one voice rose above the rest:
“Daddy! Kiss Mommy!”
Wendy’s breath hitched. It felt as if the softest part of her heart had been torn open, bleeding raw.
It was her son’s voice.
She watched as Steven lowered his head, inching closer and closer to Queenie.
She couldn’t bear it any longer. Turning away, she fled in panic, never seeing how, at the very last second, Steven tilted his head aside and stopped the kiss.
When Steven carried a sleeping Michael into the house later that night, he flipped on the light and immediately saw Wendy sitting on the sofa.
He frowned, his tone impatient. “Didn’t I tell you not to wait up for us?”
Wendy forced a bitter smile. “I wasn’t waiting. There’s a document you need to sign.”
She stood, handing him the prepared papers.
A glance told him it was a medical cooperation project between the Price Corporation and her hospital–investments exceeding a million.
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My Ex Called Me the Help, Now I’m Untouchable
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Chapter 1: You Cheated on Me with My Sister
“And if I refuse to sign?”
Her voice was soft but steady: “Then I’ll let everyone know you cheated on me with my sister, that Queenie is nothing but a homewrecker.”
Steven’s gaze turned dangerous. “Wendy, are you threatening me?”
“If that’s how you want to interpret it.”
He inhaled sharply, grabbed the pen, and scrawled his name angrily. “Satisfied now?”
Without answering, Wendy took the papers and went upstairs.
In her bedroom, she flipped to the last page. Five bold characters glared back at her: Divorce Agreement.
That rainy night gave her little rest. Her dreams were filled with scenes of Steven and Queenie together. When she awoke, her pillow was soaked with
tears.
She rose, splashed water on her swollen eyes, covered the traces with foundation, and went downstairs–only to see Queenie sitting on the sofa, stroking the family dog.
“What are you doing here?” Wendy’s voice was cold.
Queenie smiled sweetly. “Sister, I came to tell you–it’s time you gave me my rightful place as Mrs. Price.”
Tugging down her collar, she revealed hickeys scattered along her neck and chest. “He loves me. Don’t you understand?”
Nausea rose in Wendy’s throat. “Isn’t being a homewrecker what you love most? The title of Mrs. Price doesn’t suit you. But homewrecker–that fits perfectly.”
Queenie’s smile twisted into a snarl. She patted the dog at her side. At her command, it lunged straight at Wendy.
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