Revenge is best served cold

Chapter 1880

From the moment I came into this world, I sensed I was an error. My mother often stood by the window, eyes scanning the horizon, waiting for my father to come home. He had a routine of leaving early and returning late, and for a spell, they lived like any other couple, seemingly content.

During those days, we were like mice scurrying through a shadowy alley, confined to a house that never welcomed sunlight. It felt like a prison for both my mother and me.

I can still picture the day she took me to the market. She wore a stunning dress my father had given her. Before life took its turns, she was a dancer, and when she moved, it was like watching a butterfly take flight-absolutely mesmerizing. But at the market, whispers and pointing fingers followed us everywhere.

"That's her—the one kept by some man, had a kid without getting married."

"She was a dancer, snagged a rich guy, and quit. Dressed up like that, she's clearly out to catch a man."

As the gossip buzzed around, my mother shielded my ears with her hands. But I was old enough to pick up on the disdain in their eyes, almost as if we were some sort of aberration.

stern-faced woman at a stall. The woman

food. My mom, ever gentle, didn't complain. She wandered the market until she paused by a

arm. His sudden move startled her, and his

yelling, "So, you're

floozy behind my back? Is this

pale as his wife approached. He hurriedly let go of

bad for her and

meat, or is she selling herself to you?" his wife

mom a scornful look and spat, "What's so special about a club dancer? Just another

don't

Get out of this market, and if I see

joined in, waving brooms