
Jennifer covered her mouth and laughed softly.  
"Oh, don’t underestimate that factory owner. In his area, he has quite a bit of influence. At his age—40s—he’s perfect for someone in your situation. Don’t aim too high; look at how old you are now, not to mention, you’re a divorced woman."
Everyone around her chimed in agreement with Jennifer. They acted as though they were the real family, while Alicia was just an outsider. Their shamelessness made Alicia grit her teeth in anger. 
This was her father.
Alicia’s anger boiled over. "Thanks for the offer, but I’ve made it clear: I only want my mother’s shares. If you refuse, I won’t be leaving my seat anytime soon."
Jennifer, enraged by Alicia's persistence, shouted, "Shares? Oh my God, stop joking. The factory was built with the hard work of me and your father! Shares? Are you saying your crazy mother still has shares in the company?"
Alic


In addition to the bruise on her cheek, Alicia also noticed several bruises forming on her back and waist.  
"Forget it, I'll go to the hospital for a checkup tomorrow," she thought.
“What time is it now?”  
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and Charles’s voice came from outside. Alicia panicked and glanced at the clock in the bedroom. It was already dinner time.
She rushed out of the room, not noticing how Charles’s gaze darkened as he watched her from behind. Alicia’s red silk nightgown hugged her curves, her golden, slightly curled hair falling over her back, making her skin look even more pale and delicate.
Alicia held a hair tie in her mouth as she gathered her loose hair, tying it up. Charles’s eyes focused on the vibrant red of the tie contrasting with her silk nightgown. A strange urge stirred within him, but he instinctively believed that Alicia had dressed this way on p


On the other end of the phone, Daphne hesitated for a moment before telling Alicia, "There’s some bad news. The other art director for the game is Linda. I didn’t know at first it was her."
Alicia let out a sigh. By now, none of these things really bothered her anymore. Besides, since she would be working remotely, she figured she wouldn’t have to see Linda in person.
Just as their conversation was heating up, Alicia suddenly heard footsteps outside. Instinctively, she hung up the phone and closed her laptop. Charles had returned.
Charles stood at the door, spraying himself several times with disinfectant before lazily lifting his gaze to look at Alicia. 
"I left something at home," he said flatly.
Alicia stared at him calmly. "Alright."
Charles's eyes moved toward the takeout boxes on the dining table. Following his gaze, Alicia felt a sudden wave of panic. In Charles's household, takeout food was strictly forbidden.
When they had first started living together, Alicia had been unaware of this rule. One night, after ordering something greasy and spicy to soothe her broken heart, Charles had scolded her harshly. Ever since then, she had never dared to bring such food home again.
"Don’t worry, I’m not eating this," Alicia said quickly, trying to explain. "It’s for Daphne. I’m delivering it to her later."
Charles’s face darkened considerably, and he shot her a mocking glance. His eyes then drifted to her laptop, which she had just been using. Striding over, he opened it.
Alicia’s heart sank. She had forgotten to lock the screen. Earlier, she had been researching pregnancy check-up information. If Charles saw this, the consequences could be disastrous.
Despite Alicia’s best efforts to stop him, Charles saw the contents of the screen.
"Don’t tell me," he sneered, "this pregnancy test is for Daphne too?"
His voice echoed through the empty living room, dripping with sarcasm. Alicia quickly nodded.
"She’s preparing to conceive and asked me to help her by looking up some information," she lied.
But Charles didn’t seem convinced. Her earlier nervousness had not escaped his notice.
"Then why were you so scared?"
Alicia lowered her gaze slightly. "I just didn’t want you to find out and scold me..."
She left her sentence unfinished, giving Charles room to imagine the rest.
Sitting on the sofa, Charles watched her pale face and pitiful demeanor. For some reason, this sight filled him with inexplicable frustration.
"You think everyone has as much free time as you do?" he snapped. "Right now, your only task is to rest and recover. Look at you—so sickly. Anyone would think I’ve been mistreating you. Hurry up and get better so we can finalize the divorce."
Alicia remained silent.
Meanwhile, in an upscale restaurant, Linda cursed under her breath as she stared at the luxurious dishes spread before her. Charles had stood her up to visit Alicia instead.
Damn it, she thought angrily. Alicia needs to disappear. Hatred flickered in her eyes as she made a phone call to Jennifer.
Back at home, Alicia had just begun to relax after sitting for so long when her phone rang. It was Jennifer.
"If you want your mother’s belongings, come back tonight."
Alicia was startled by this. In her memory, she had already organized all of her mother’s things. How could Jennifer have anything left?
Even though she was reluctant, Alicia knew she had to go—just in case. Fortunately, she had finished preparing the initial sketches for the game before Jennifer’s call.
Alicia arrived at Linda’s house, the brightest one in the neighborhood. The decor inside was opulent, almost tastelessly so—undoubtedly Jennifer’s influence.
As soon as Alicia stepped inside, Linda greeted her with a smug smile. "Of course, your precious mother is always your number one priority."
Alicia didn’t hold back. "Cut the act. We both know the truth. Don’t waste my time—just give me my mother’s things."
A loud bang echoed through the living room. "You bitch! Who do you think you are, talking to my mother like that?"
It was Carmen, Linda’s brother, standing nearby with his red-dyed hair. He glared at Alicia menacingly. Carmen had been spoiled rotten by Mitchell and Jennifer. Covered in tattoos, he fancied himself a gang leader, hanging out with other local delinquents who looked up to him.
Alicia was surprised to see him here, but it didn’t matter. She treated him as if he were invisible.
Mitchell’s stern voice rang out, "Carmen!"
Reluctantly, Carmen slumped back onto the sofa.
Mitchell took a seat at the dining table, placing a bowl of fish soup on a chair closest to Alicia. "May God bless our family with peace. It’s been too long since we’ve all shared a meal."
Alicia used to love fish soup, but now just the sight of it made her feel nauseous.
"Stop pretending. Just give me my mother’s belongings."
Jennifer’s face twisted with displeasure. "There are two conditions. First, you must divorce Charles as soon as possible. Second, I’ve found you a suitable match from a noble family. If you marry him after the divorce, I’ll hand over your mother’s things."
Alicia burst out laughing. She hadn’t even finalized her divorce, and Jennifer was already setting her up with someone else.
Crossing her arms, Alicia looked at Jennifer with amusement. "Oh, really? And what kind of man are we talking about?"
Jennifer, thinking Alicia was interested, eagerly responded, "He’s no ordinary man. He owns several factories, and once you marry him, you’ll inherit his wealth."
"Oh?" Alicia thought to herself. "So he’s a factory owner?"
Playing with her fingernails, Alicia casually asked, "I assume he’s not young?"

Jennifer covered her mouth and laughed softly.  
"Oh, don’t underestimate that factory owner. In his area, he has quite a bit of influence. At his age—40s—he’s perfect for someone in your situation. Don’t aim too high; look at how old you are now, not to mention, you’re a divorced woman."
Everyone around her chimed in agreement with Jennifer. They acted as though they were the real family, while Alicia was just an outsider. Their shamelessness made Alicia grit her teeth in anger. 
This was her father.
Alicia’s anger boiled over. "Thanks for the offer, but I’ve made it clear: I only want my mother’s shares. If you refuse, I won’t be leaving my seat anytime soon."
Jennifer, enraged by Alicia's persistence, shouted, "Shares? Oh my God, stop joking. The factory was built with the hard work of me and your father! Shares? Are you saying your crazy mother still has shares in the company?"
Alicia couldn’t stand anyone talking about her mother’s mental health, especially not Jennifer. Wit

Chapter 8: He's Wealthy Enough for You