Alpha's Shadow

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I never thought I'd wake up eight years in the future, only to find my mortal enemy Roderick and I have a four-year-old son. Now I'm sitting in a police station while that kid dials "Daddy." The door opens. Roderick steps in. "Daddy, Mommy forgot us," the boy says. Roderick's gaze slices straight at me. "Enough the game, Madeleine." A platinum band flashes on his finger—identical to the one on mine. My worst enemy is my husband. And the father of my child. "Officer, I wanna report a scam! This kid won't stop following me, insisting I'm his mother!" "Officer, my mom's lost her mind. She keeps calling me a scammer." At the police station, the officer stared at the woman and the boy before him, totally confused. "So, you're saying she's your mother," he said to the boy, then turned to the woman, "and you're saying you are not. Correct?" Both nodded in earnest unison. Ten minutes earlier, Madeleine Mosley had woken up to find herself lying on the pavement. A boy was beside her, carefully pouring a can of Coke into her mouth. Figuring she must've fainted from low blood sugar, she said, "Thanks, kiddo." To her surprise, the boy stared back in fright. "Mommy, did you injure your head in the fall?" Mommy?! Madeleine froze, her eyes wide in shock. She was only eighteen—a college student in the prime of her life. She had never even been in a relationship. How could she possibly have a child? If her mother found out, she'd be kicked out of the house overnight. And this kid was such a pro! He didn't look like he was lying at all. Scammers were getting more and more cunning. She'd seen news reports about trafficking gangs using children as bait to kidnap female college students. This must be one of those cases. But no matter how she tried, she couldn't shake the boy off. He followed her stubbornly, like a shadow. She had no choice but to head straight for the police station. "What's your name?" "Madeleine Mosley." "Age?" "Eighteen." "E-Eighteen?" The police officer stopped taking Madeleine's statement and looked up, giving her a once-over. Every item she wore was from a major brand. With her striking features and remarkable temperament, she exuded feminine charm. She didn't look eighteen at all. He then turned his attention to the little boy. "Your name?" "Kevin Livingston." "Age?" "Four and a half." Hearing his answer, Madeleine glanced up at him, pursing her lips. This boy shared the surname with Roderick. Were they related? And, come to think of it, the resemblance between them was uncanny—especially the eyes. He was basically the mini version of Roderick. A bold idea struck her. After all her years of butting heads with Roderick, this had to be another one of his elaborate tricks to mess with her. "Officer, I—" "Ssh." The officer gestured, pointing out that the boy was calling his father on his phone. Soon, the call connected. "Daddy," Kevin said, his voice dripping with innocence, "could you come to the police station to pick up Mommy and me? "No. Mommy didn't hurt me. "She didn't hurt anyone else either. Come over." Madeleine couldn't believe her ears. What did he mean by she didn't hurt him or anyone else? Of course, she didn't. She never resorted to violence. Then again, if it was Roderick, she might punch him in the face. Since the kid was calling his father to come over, fine. She couldn't wait to find out which relative of Roderick's it was. About fifteen minutes later, someone entered the station. Madeleine instinctively turned, and her gaze landed on a pair of long, slender legs. Well, this guy certainly had a fine physique—tall, with excellent proportions, and a face that was... She froze. A face that was identical to Roderick's?! What the hel? No, that wasn't quite right. The man in front of her was taller, leaner, and more mature. Most of all, it was his demeanor—he seemed far colder than Roderick ever was, carrying an aura of frost that made him seem like a walking glacier. "Daddy." Kevin, who had been sitting on the bench next to Madeleine, jumped down and ran over. "Mommy doesn't remember me," he looked up at the man and said. Roderick Livingston frowned, his cold, indifferent gaze falling upon Madeleine. What stunt was she pulling this time? Madeleine was still in a daze while Roderick stopped in front of her. Looking at his face, identical to Roderick's, she finally couldn't help but ask, "Sir, who are you?" Roderick's face fell, his voice dropping to a dangerous chill. "Madeleine, are you done yet?" Dam! Even his voice was exactly like Roderick's. A wave of dizziness washed over her. She asked, her voice trembling, "What year is it?" "2025." Madeleine widened her eyes in disbelief. She was in 2017 ... wasn't she? So she had traveled through time?! Her future self had married her sworn enemy and even had a son with him! Having read so many web-novels, she recognized this as a rather likely trope. But ... how could this be? When her parents tried to set her up with Roderick, she had announced, "Not a chance. Not even when he's the last man on earth. I'd rather marry a dog." ###Chapter 2 The memory of her own words felt like a stinging slap across the face. The twenty-seven-year-old Roderick was utterly cold and seemed to be in a hurry. He gave a brief explanation to the police and then walked out of the station, carrying Kevin in one arm and grabbing Madeleine's hand with the other. After he dragged her into the car, Madeleine took a deep breath. "Ricki, I have something to tell you." Roderick had just secured Kevin in the child seat. Hearing her words, he slowly looked up at her. "What did you call me?" "Ricki, your nickname. What's wrong?" Roderick's gaze darkened, betraying no emotion. He had lost count of how long it had been since she had called him that. He closed the door and sat in the driver's seat. "What do you want to say to me?" "In fact, I—" Madeleine paused, turning to look at Kevin, who was gazing at her. If she said she had traveled through time, would it scare him? She then decided to tell Roderick in private when they got home. Putting on her best gentle mother act, she smiled at Kevin. "Kev, did I scare you?" Kevin gawked at her, slack-jawed. Was this really his mommy? Why was she so gentle all of a sudden? Was it because she ... finally decided to abandon him for good? Pouting, he looked at Roderick. "Daddy, I'm scared." "It's okay. I'm here," Roderick said. With that, he glanced at Madeleine through the rearview mirror. The smile on her face froze, and she shrank back awkwardly before looking out the window, pretending nothing had happened. So, it was really an act? Roderick's grip tightened around the steering wheel, his jaw clenching. Soon, he pulled up to the entrance of a riverside villa. Looking up, Madeleine couldn't help but be impressed. He'd been such a bum back then, yet now he had made it this big. Good for him. Before she could finish taking in the sight of the villa, Roderick grabbed her wrist, pulled her into the bedroom, and slammed the door shut. "W-What are you—" She immediately covered her chest with both arms. Before she could finish speaking, Roderick snapped, "Madeleine, the next time you decide to cheat on me, could you at least have the decency not to bring Kevin along?" What had Roderick just said? Madeleine wondered if she had misheard. Her? Cheating on him? Had she truly done something so shameless? And to have brought Kevin along? How despicable! Her eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, she almost forgot to breathe. Slowly, she raised her head and met Roderick's gaze, which was burning with rage. "Ricki," she said, her voice trembling, "if I told you I've lost my memory and only remember being eighteen, would you believe me?" Roderick's fury was visibly replaced by stunned silence. But soon, a cold understanding seemed to dawn on him. He arched an eyebrow and let out a derisive snort. "You'll really stop at nothing to get a divorce, won't you?" Madeleine instantly gathered another piece of crucial information. She had an affair and was demanding a divorce from Roderick. It turned out she had grown to be a villainess. She couldn't help but feel a pang of self-disgust. But then, it was understandable. This was Roderick, after all—her sworn enemy, the boy she had grown up with... To be more accurate, the boy she had grown up fighting with. Of course, there wasn't a trace of affection between them. Even now, looking at his face, she could still vividly remember the time when he was five and had the seat of his pants bitten off by a dog. She couldn't help but giggle at the memory. And really, could she be blamed? She was, after all, a girl of only eighteen. How could she be expected to perfectly hide what she felt? "What are you laughing at?" Roderick's frown deepened, his teeth gritting in a wave of humiliation. "Madeleine, am I really that much of a joke to you?" Madeleine wiped the grin off her face at once. She and Roderick had always been at odds, and she was long accustomed to his stern tone. Yet, for some reason, this grown-up version of him frightened her. She couldn't shake the feeling that before, when he was angry with her, it had just been him messing around. But now, he was genuinely furious. "That's not what I meant," she said, spreading her hands in a helpless gesture. "I really have lost my memory. The last thing I remember is being a freshman, trying to study for finals in the library when you came over and switched my textbook with 'Ten Ways to Make Your Child Smarter'." The memory reignited her indignation, and she glared at him. ###Chapter 3 "Did I fail that exam, Ricki? If I did, I'm blaming it entirely on you!" She continued to complain about his years of childish antics without pausing for breath. From him putting a caterpillar in her backpack in kindergarten to blowing out the candles on her twelfth birthday cake, she listed them all, one after another. However, Roderick wasn't truly listening. His pupils, usually so devoid of emotion, contracted violently as he took in her lively expression. Madeleine was undeniably beautiful, a fact acknowledged by everyone who knew her. She had been a vibrant, pretty teenager, and in her twenties, she had matured into a woman with a magnetic vibrancy. At every stage of her life, she was breathtakingly attractive. His eyes traced her now-animated features, bit by bit. It had been so long since he had last seen her like this. Ever since their marriage, she had only ever looked at him with detachment and disgust, as if every additional glance at him was pure torture. "Hey, hey, hey! I'm talking to you! Are you listening?" Madeleine waved her hands impatiently in front of Roderick's face. "I'm telling you, I've forgotten everything from the last few years. I don't even know who I'm supposedly having an affair with." That last sentence made Roderick's expression darken all over again. Growing tired of speaking, she walked over to the bed, sat down, leaned back on her hands, and swung her legs. "Chill, Ricki. We can make this divorce amicable. Infidelity doesn't have to be a factor because there isn't any." Roderick's gaze darkened to the utmost as he let out an inward scoff. After all that rambling, her goal was still the same—a divorce. Almost... He had almost been fooled by her performance. How dare she use their shared memories as a tool to deceive him? Was there no line she wouldn't cross? "Are you finished?" He suddenly strode forward and pushed her down onto the bed, caging her in with one arm while his other hand clamped around her wrist. Madeleine gasped in pain. His expression was a complex storm, his voice chillingly cold. "Let me make myself clear again, Madeleine. I am not some simp, nor am I your servant. Why do you think you can always have your way? We married because you wanted it. Now you want a divorce, and I'm just supposed to agree? Why should I?" Frightened by his outburst, Madeleine instinctively shrank back. Her recoil seemed to pierce him, and his eyes were red-rimmed. She was about to nod, urging him to get a divorce. But then she realized something was wrong. According to him, she was the one who had proposed marriage in the first place? Had she lost her mind back then? Just then, a knock on the door shattered the tense silence. Kevin's voice, broken by sobs, filtered through. "Daddy, Mommy... Could you please ... not get a divorce?" A sharp pain stabbed through Madeleine's heart, so acute it was almost suffocating. She immediately pushed Roderick aside and strode to the door, swinging it open. There stood Kevin, his little face stained with tears. She had no idea how much he had overheard. All of a sudden, a pang of guilt washed over her. She had failed as a mother and had become the heartless woman who abandoned both her husband and her son. Kevin didn't deserve this. She crouched down and pulled him into her arms, coaxing him in the same gentle tone her parents had once used with her. "Kev, sweetie, don't cry. We were just joking, alright?" It was likely that her marriage to Roderick was merely a business alliance. She had never quite understood why he was so resistant to ending it. Now, it dawned on her—it was probably for Kevin's sake. Roderick's own parents had divorced when he was a child, leaving him without a normal family life. Perhaps he didn't want Kevin to endure the same pain. With this realization, she added, "We won't get a divorce, at least not for now. OK, sweetie?" Kevin's shoulders shook with sobs. He had caught her precise wording. They wouldn't get a divorce now, which meant they would later. The thought made him cry even harder. He knew it—sooner or later, Madeleine would abandon him. As this fear gripped him, he wrapped his arms more tightly around her neck. Amidst his sorrow, a small part of him registered something strange—she was actually holding him. It had been so long since she last had. Roderick stood in the shadows, his figure appearing even more slender as the light stretched it. He watched Madeleine and Kevin in silence, his deep-set eyes swirling with complex emotions. The way she held Kevin seemed so natural, no different from any loving mother. ###Chapter 4 But he knew the truth—for the past six months, she had refused to even hold Kevin. Whenever Kevin tried to get close, she would find some excuse to avoid his touch. This was especially true after she had reconnected with that man. A soreness burned behind Roderick's eyes. He squeezed them shut for a long moment before looking again. None of this was real. Whatever she was doing, it was all just an act to trick him into agreeing to a divorce. After she finally managed to calm Kevin down, Madeleine realized Roderick had left. When the servant, Kirsten Wilson, entered with a bowl of custard, Madeleine asked her, "Has Roderick always been this busy?" Kirsten, who had been about to leave, halted at the question. She looked at Madeleine with suspicion. What had gotten into Madeleine? She had never asked about Roderick's schedule before. "Yes, Mr. Livingston has been swamped with work lately. After all..." She glanced at Madeleine, not daring to finish her sentence. "After all, what?" Madeleine pressed, curious. Throwing caution to the wind, Kirsten blurted out with her eyes shut, "After all, you deleted all the files on his computer a week ago. His work for over a month was completely wiped out." After saying this, she secretly exhaled. She had actually said this loudly. Surely, Madeleine would fire her on the spot. She kept her eyes closed, waiting for the harsh scolding. But the expected outburst never came. Puzzled, she opened her eyes to see Madeleine frozen in place. Madeleine was completely dumbfounded. How could she have done something so stupid? It was true that Roderick had often picked on her, sometimes unforgivably so. But this was beyond the pale. Having grown up in a business family, she knew all too well the severe consequences of losing critical files. Her actions had been truly outrageous. No wonder Roderick was so cold toward her. Frankly, she was surprised he hadn't strangled her yet. She sighed, scooped up a spoonful of custard, and tasted it. Then she frowned. "It's too sweet." "Is it? But it was made exactly to your taste." Kirsten's surprise at not being fired was immediately replaced by a new wave of confusion. What was happening? Due to Madeleine's frequent low blood sugar, she always added extra honey, and Madeleine had never complained before. Madeleine put down the spoon. "I can't eat this. I have to watch my figure. How else am I supposed to dance?" At the mention of dancing, she got to her feet and began checking the cabinets in the bedroom for any certificates. By twenty-six, she should have been the principal dancer at the National Ballet, with a gold medal from the Varna International Ballet Competition to her name. Kirsten watched her rummage through the cabinets, utterly bewildered. Her lips parted slightly. "Mrs. Livingston... You know how to dance?" Madeleine froze, then slowly turned to look at Kirsten as the harsh truth dawned on her. She had given up dancing—the one thing she had always loved most. She had been enamored with ballet since she was six, practicing every single day, never giving up, even when her feet were covered in blisters. It had been her childhood dream. How could she have possibly abandoned it? Eager to uncover the events of the past eight years, she fumbled for her phone and, with Kirsten's help, finally found it. She opened WhatsApp and immediately spotted a pinned chat with "Eddie" at the top. As she scrolled through their message history, she was utterly horrified. Not only had she been an unfaithful wife, but she had also been a pathetic simp. She had showered Eddie with endless streams of saccharine sweet nothings. The further she read, the more nauseated she felt, until she thought she might actually be sick. The final messages showed her sending her location, desperately begging Eddie to come and see her. It was the exact spot where she had been unconscious. So, she had indeed taken Kevin, her own son, with Roderick, to meet her lover... With a trembling finger, she opened his Instagram profile, desperate to see the face that had made her abandon all her principles. Just how stunning was he? A photo of him appeared. The moment she saw his face, she nearly dropped her phone. "Edward?!" Edward Carroll was the impoverished student she had been supporting financially. Edward was her lover? What the hel was going on? She found it impossible to process so much shocking information at once. She needed to talk to someone she was familiar with to give her the full story. Without a second thought, she freshened up and prepared to go out. "Mrs. Livingston!" Kirsten had just put Kevin down for his nap. Seeing Madeleine stride out, she called out in a panic. ###Chapter 5 "Where are you going?" Roderick had given strict instructions to keep an eye on Madeleine and not let her leave the villa again. "Home," Madeleine replied. "Home? Do you have another home, Mrs. Livingston?" Kirsten asked, bewildered. "No. I mean I'm going back to my parents' house." Another home? What kind of woman did Kirsten think she was? Kirsten thought she must have misheard. It had been so long since Madeleine had last visited her parents. Though thoroughly puzzled, she arranged for the driver to take Madeleine to the Mosley's house, repeatedly reminding him not to let her slip away during the journey. She felt a profound responsibility to protect this family of three, to guard Roderick and Kevin's happiness. As she sat in the car watching the scenery pass by, a strange feeling settled over Madeleine. "Are you sure this is the way to my parents' house?" The driver straightened up immediately. "Yes, Mrs. Livingston. This is the shortest route to Splendor Estates." Splendor Estates? Perhaps her parents had moved. Maybe the family business had thrived over the years, and they had upgraded from their townhouse to a more luxurious gated community. Half an hour later, the car came to a smooth stop. But Madeleine remained seated, utterly dumbfounded. How come her parents lived in such an ordinary-looking residential complex? "Which building are they in?" she asked. She felt her throat tighten. The driver's gaze in the rearview mirror held a trace of contempt. He wasn't surprised. After all, it had been years since her last visit. Of course, she would have forgotten the address. "Building 3, Room 803." "Thank you." Madeleine nodded and hurried out of the car, rushing toward her parents' home. As she walked, memories of her childhood with her parents came flooding back, making her nose twitch with emotion. She had been absent from their lives for eight years. Would they be upset when they found out? It was an aged community with minimal security. Soon, she stood before their door. After taking a few deep breaths to steady herself, she pressed the doorbell. "Who is it? Coming." It was Harold Mosley, her father. A wave of joy surged through her, and she resolved to give him the warmest hug. A few seconds later, the door opened. The sight of Harold, who had aged significantly, brought tears to her eyes. "Dad..." A loud bang cut her off. She had just reached out to hug him when the door was slammed shut, nearly catching her hands. She stood there, blinking in confusion. What had just happened? Did he see her as some kind of plague? She immediately began pressing the doorbell repeatedly, shouting, "Dad! Open the door! It's me, Madeleine!" Inside, Harold stood frozen, rooted to the spot. Clarissa Hatfield, Madeleine's mother, walked over from the balcony where she had been watering the plants. "What's going on? Why are you standing here?" "You won't believe what just happened," Harold said, his tone graver than she had ever heard. "Listen to who's outside." As the sound of Madeleine's voice registered, Clarissa was so startled that she dropped her watering can. "What's she doing here?" Madeleine kept pounding on the door. Worried about the neighbors' complaints, Harold and Clarissa reluctantly opened it. "Dad! Mom!" Her eyes already red and brimming with tears, Madeleine threw herself into Harold's arms with such force she nearly knocked him over. Harold looked down at her, keenly noting the nasal tone in her greeting. Could this really be their Madeleine? "I thought you didn't want me anymore..." Madeleine sobbed uncontrollably, smearing tears and snot all over his shirt. After a while, she let go of him and hugged Clarissa, who was still stunned. "Mom! You've lost so much weight..." It was only after she had stained both her parents' clothes with her tears and snot that she finally pulled back, still sniffling. "Why are you looking at me like that?" They were both staring at her, their eyes wide with a mixture of shock, confusion, and a trace of lingering fear. Fear? Had she done something horrible? The thought compelled her to confess everything. "Dad, Mom, I've lost my memory. Whatever I did these past few years, please, believe me, I never meant for any of it to happen. I can't remember a single thing." "You've lost your memory?" Harold and Clarissa exchanged a glance. As hard as it was to believe, it was the only explanation that made sense. After all, the real Madeleine—the one they had come to know in recent years—would never have come to visit them, let alone hugged them like this. "Then ... what do you remember?" "I remember us living in that villa when I was eighteen. Dad would always come home for dinner no matter how busy he was, and Mom would dress up every day to drive me to school." ###Chapter 6 The eyes of all three welled up with tears. Thrilled, Clarissa hugged Madeleine tightly. "Maddie! You're my Maddie! Sweetie, you've finally ... finally come back to us! You wanted nothing to do with us these past few years... It broke our hearts... Do you have any idea?" She burst into tears, releasing years of pent-up sorrow and grievance. Ten minutes later, Madeleine sat on the sofa, nestled between her parents. She looked around. The house wasn't large, but it was cozy and inviting. However, there wasn't a single trace of her presence to be found. "Dad, Mom, what happened to our family business? Did it go bankrupt?" Harold and Clarissa exchanged another glance. After a heavy silence, they recounted the painful past. Madeleine rose to her feet after knowing what had happened. "What are you doing, Maddie?" "Where's the kitchen? I'm gonna find a knife to stab myself." It had never occurred to Madeleine that she was the chief culprit behind the ruin of her family's business. Harold and Clarissa explained that she had married Roderick and had a son with him shortly after graduation. Not long after, she began acting irrationally, insisting that they fund Edward's startup with a massive investment. When they refused, she funneled a massive amount of the company's capital to Edward, gutting Harold's hard-earned empire. As it turned out, Edward was a business prodigy. Within six months, he became the Mosley Group's most fierce competitor and ultimately acquired it, severely implicating the Livingston Group in the process. The Mosley Group went bankrupt and was liquidated. Every valuable item in their home was sold. "Roddy bought this house for us. He offered to buy our villa back, but we didn't let him." Clarissa lowered her head and wiped her tears. "We owe him so much." Remembering something, she grabbed Madeleine's hand and asked, "Maddie, now that you've lost your memory... Do you still love Edward?" "Of course not!" Madeleine answered without hesitation. Putting everything else aside, Edward wasn't even as handsome as Roderick. In her memory, he was just a sullen, introverted, and perpetually insecure young man. What could she have possibly loved about him? What had she been thinking? Had she lost her mind? "I'm glad to hear that. Maddie, you truly broke Roddy's heart. I genuinely don't know if he can ever forgive you." Madeleine knew Roderick—he was a proud and confident man. He would never accept being cheated on. But... "Mom, I don't love Roderick either." She had loathed Roderick most during her teenage years. Even if she spotted him on the street, she would take a detour. After a moment of thought, she said, "Mom, I'll talk to Roderick properly about the divorce." "No, you will not!" Harold interjected sternly. "Have you even stopped to think about Kev?" Kevin... A sharp pang of pain shot through Madeleine's heart, leaving a suffocating ache. No matter what, Kevin was her son. Though she had no memory of the past few years, the moment his adorable face surfaced in her mind, she was flooded with an involuntary warmth and affection. "Alright. I'll think it over," she conceded, steadying herself. She would find an opportunity to have a calm discussion with Roderick. Perhaps they could maintain a marriage in name only, making further adjustments if he someday met someone he truly loved. "Maddie, you haven't eaten, have you? Let me make you something nice," Clarissa offered. "Really? Mom, you can cook now?" Another wave of guilt washed over Madeleine, and she bit her lip to hold back her tears. "I'm so sorry, Dad, Mom. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be living here, and Mom wouldn't have had to learn how to cook." Harold stood up with a resigned sigh. "Do you really think I'd let Clarissa handle the cooking? She's only mastered frying eggs. You stay here and keep her company." With that, he walked into the kitchen, deftly tied the apron strings, and began preparing the meal. Madeleine was momentarily speechless. So, Harold had been the one cooking all along. Of course, that made perfect sense. Clarissa's hands were still as fair and soft as ever—clearly, Harold had never let her do any housework. "Mom, tell me more. What else have I done over the years?" She kicked off her shoes, crossed her legs, curled up on the sofa, and hugged a cushion to her chest. Clarissa peeled an orange and handed it to her. Everything felt the same as eight years ago. "You barely came home these past few years. It was as if you'd become a completely different person. At first, Harold and I thought you were suffering from postpartum mood swings, but then we realized even your preferences had changed." Madeleine blinked, her mouth full of orange. "My preferences changed?" ###Chapter 7 "Yes. For instance, you never used to eat oranges. And you hated the color pink, but you went and bought a whole wardrobe of pink dresses." Madeleine was shocked. Had she really changed that much? It sounded like she was a different person altogether. Wait... Another person? Had she been possessed? It felt like one of those novel plots where a protagonist transmigrated or was reborn into a host body to complete a mission. Maybe that was it. It was the only logical explanation for such a drastic and sudden change in personality. Just as Clarissa was about to speak, her phone rang. It was Roderick. "Hello, Roddy." Roderick's deep voice came through the speaker. "Hi, Clarissa. Is Madeleine with you?" "Yes, she is. What's the matter?" Roderick fell silent for a while. Then he said, "Did she tell you she's lost her memory?" "Yes, she did." "It's just an excuse to divorce me, Clarissa. She's even bought plane tickets to go abroad with Edward." Hearing this, Clarissa widened her eyes at Madeleine. Had it all been an act? Madeleine had no idea what was going on. She had only seen Clarissa answer Roderick's call, her expression shifting drastically before she stepped out onto the balcony with the phone. When Clarissa returned after some time—long enough for Madeleine to eat two oranges—she looked deeply preoccupied. "What happened, Mom? What did Roderick want?" Madeleine asked. Clarissa's gaze was complex and slightly strained. Her eyes, slightly unfocused, rested on Madeleine for a long moment. "Nothing important. Roddy was just checking to see if you were here." Madeleine curled her lip. "Ricki's so paranoid." Clarissa sat down in silence, her mind a whirlwind. Roderick had claimed that Madeleine's amnesia was a ruse and that she had already decided to go to Phelrania to find Edward. Clarissa had been suspicious. After all, the Madeleine of today acted exactly like the girl from eight years ago, just as she would if she had truly lost her memory. Roderick hadn't explained much, only asking her not to confront Madeleine and to wait until the next day to see if she would actually go to Phelrania. Madeleine was genuinely astonished by Harold's exceptional cooking. The table was laden with dishes, each one more delicious than the last, and she couldn't decide where to begin. "Yum!" She held the fork in her right hand and gave Harold a continuous stream of thumbs-up with the other hand, which pleased him so much that he broke into a hearty grin. Just then, the doorbell rang, and Madeleine stood up to answer it. Her world seemed to crumble when she saw the pretty little girl, about eight years old, standing at the door. Tears welled up in her eyes as she turned around. "Dad, Mom, did you think I was a lost cause, so you found a replacement?" "Don't be ridiculous," Clarissa said, stepping forward. She took the little girl's hand and gently led her inside. "This is Mina, your uncle's daughter." Madeleine's eyes widened as she stared at the adorable child. How had her uncle managed to have such a beautiful daughter? Then it dawned on her—her aunt was a renowned beauty. The little girl must have taken all her looks from her mother. Her cousin was called Minerva Hatfield, aged seven. Her parents were abroad on business, so she had been living with Harold and Clarissa during the school term for the past two years. From the moment she stepped inside, Minerva's gaze remained fixed on Madeleine. "Are you Madeleine?" she asked. Madeleine grinned and nodded eagerly. "That's right." Minerva was as adorable as Kevin, the kind of child who could instantly win anyone's heart. To her utter surprise, Minerva's face darkened. "Clarissa, Harold, why did you let Madeleine in? What if she makes you angry and gets you sick again?" With that, Minerva spread her arms and stood protectively in front of Clarissa. "Don't you hurt Clarissa! Come at me if you dare!" The grin on Madeleine's face froze. It was becoming painfully clear just how terribly she must have behaved all these years—even a little girl seemed to despise her. Clarissa guided Minerva to the dining table. "It's alright, Mina. Maddie knows she was wrong and has come to apologize." "Apologize? Her?" Minerva gave Madeleine a look of pure skepticism. "No way. Clarissa, Harold, she's lied to you countless times. Why would you still believe her? Don't be fools." Hearing this, Clarissa could only sigh inwardly, reminded of what Roderick had said. Perhaps she was a fool. But Madeleine was her daughter, her own flesh and blood. More than anyone, she clung to the hope that the real Madeleine would someday return—that sweet, sensible girl she once knew. ###Chapter 8 So, even if this was all an act, she desperately wished for it to last a little longer. Madeleine knew she couldn't undo years of damage in a single day. But she had time. She sat down beside Minerva and reached for Minerva's plate to serve her some soup. Minerva snatched the plate back, horrified. "I'll do it myself! What if you try to poison me?" "I'm not that terrible, am I?" Madeleine asked. "You are! Ask Clarissa! You fed me jello when I was three, and I almost choked to death!" Clarissa offered an awkward smile. "Maddie was inexperienced back then. She didn't know jello was dangerous for kids." But Minerva was unconvinced. She curled her lip, holding a grudge. Having lived with Harold and Clarissa, she knew exactly how terrible Madeleine could be. Madeleine rarely visited, and whenever she did, she would upset them, leaving a cloud of gloom for days. Minerva loved them dearly, and for that very reason, she hated Madeleine's guts. She didn't believe for a second that Madeleine was here to sincerely apologize. After the meal, Minerva and Madeleine sat together on the sofa. Seizing the moment while Harold and Clarissa were washing dishes in the kitchen, Minerva turned to Madeleine and asked bluntly, "So, did you come back this time to get Harold and Clarissa to pressure Roderick into giving you a divorce again?" Madeleine was taken aback. "Did I do that before?" "All the time," Minerva stated flatly. "You'd throw a tantrum every time you showed up, accusing them of blocking your path to happiness." The more she said, the angrier she became. "You even burned their wedding photo, saying that if you couldn't be happy, then they didn't deserve to be either." Madeleine couldn't suppress a sharp gasp. It felt as though Minerva was describing a total stranger. She refused to believe she had ever been so monstrous. Someone must have transmigrated and taken over her body. "Why aren't you in school today?" she asked. "I took the day off. I need to prepare for the city youth ballet selection competition tomorrow." Minerva shot her an impatient look. "Instead of prying into my business, you should be more concerned about your own son." For a seven-year-old, she was remarkably eloquent. Madeleine bit back a retort. At twenty-six, she needed to project composure and elegance. She folded her hands, adopting a deliberately mature demeanor. "You do ballet, too? Are you any good?" Minerva's chin lifted with pride. "I just came second at the Forbis Youth Dance Competition last month." "Second?" Minerva arched an eyebrow. "Yes. I'm the youngest runner-up this year." Madeleine sighed and shook her head, "How the generations have slipped. When I was your age, I was already an FYDC champion." "You?" Clearly unconvinced, Minerva curled her lip and glanced at Madeleine in contempt. The Madeleine she knew was a lovestruck fool, obsessed with a man named "Eddie" and spending money on bags and clothes—hardly someone who attended to serious matters. Madeleine could dance? And she was even the champion? Yeah, right. "Stop boasting. I don't believe a word you say." Just then, Clarissa walked out of the kitchen with juice. "Mina, you're mistaken about that," she said with a smile. "Maddie really was the champion that year." "Seriously?" Minerva rose to her feet, her eyes wide. She fumbled for her phone, searched online for Madeleine's award history. After reading through the results, she took a deep breath. "You actually won so many awards? That's incredible!" Madeleine arched an eyebrow complacently, a satisfied grin spreading across her face. Just then, Minerva asked, "So, why did you stop dancing after you turned eighteen?" The smile on Madeleine's face froze. Her shoulders dropped as she answered, "Beats me." Learning of Madeleine's past awards seemed to have thawed Minerva's hostility. They talked at length about various topics related to ballet. When the conversation turned to their favorite dancers, Madeleine mentioned Annabelle Sloan. "Annabelle is giving a performance in Phelrania tomorrow night," Minerva said. "I heard it's her final one. She won't be dancing anymore after this." "What?" Madeleine was genuinely shocked. But on second thought, it made sense. When she had idolized Annabelle as a teenager, Annabelle was already nearing thirty. It was understandable that she would now be retiring from the stage. Phelrania... She thought of something and pulled out her phone to check a flight notification she had seen earlier but ignored. Looking at it more carefully now, she saw it was a ticket to Phelrania for that very night. A farewell performance? In that case, she absolutely had to go. It seemed that whoever had transmigrated into her body wasn't entirely horrible—they had at least bought her a ticket in advance. ###Chapter 9 Not wanting to waste another second, she eagerly stood up, grabbing her bag as she made ready to leave. Clarissa hurried after her. "Maddie, where are you going?" "I have to get back and pack. Mom, I'll visit again when I have time." With that, she rushed out the door. Her words struck Clarissa like a physical blow. "I knew it..." she whispered, her eyes welling up with tears. All the joy from their reunion vanished, replaced by a suffocating wave of disappointment. Roderick had been right. It was all an act, and now Madeleine was running off to Edward. Covering her mouth, she wept silently. When Harold came over, his face a mask of helpless confusion, she said in a sobbing voice, "Harold, from now on, let's just forget we ever had a daughter." *** Back at the villa, Madeleine went straight to the bedroom and began packing. Although she had no memory of the past few years, she found everything with an uncanny ease, as if she instinctively knew where each item belonged. How strange. Was this the so-called muscle memory? The wardrobe was filled with beautiful clothes. Paralyzed by choice, she couldn't decide what to bring, so she simply stuffed the suitcase until it was full. She was sitting on it, struggling with the zipper, when she heard the door creak open cautiously. She turned to find Kevin standing in the doorway. As their eyes met, he flinched and withdrew his hand, his face filled with fear. "Kev!" she smiled. The endearment slipped out before she could think, her voice sweet and syrupy. He was utterly adorable. Sure enough, he was her son—check out those big eyes, the high bridge of his nose, and those full lips. She could barely suppress the urge to cover him with kisses! But her tone only seemed to frighten him further. He shrank back, his eyes widening. "What's wrong, Kev? Come over." She crouched down and beckoned to him. Kevin nervously twisted his fingers behind his back, trying to gauge her sincerity. Didn't she hate it the most when he came near her? Finally, under her expectant gaze, he ventured into the room and approached her. But the sight of the overstuffed suitcase made his little world crumble. Tears welled up in his eyes and began to stream down his cheeks. The sight shattered Madeleine's heart. She frantically wiped his tears. "Kev, sweetie, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" "Mommy... Are you leaving for good?" She was bewildered. "What? Who told you that?" Sobbing, he pointed at the suitcase on the floor. "You're leaving." Only then did she realize his misunderstanding. "I'm not leaving you," she explained quickly. "I just have to go away for a little while to take care of something." After a pause, she asked, "Kev, do you want to come with me?" Immediately, Kevin stopped sobbing. "Come with you?" "That's right. But I'm not sure if there are any tickets left. Let me check... Oh, and do you have a passport, Kev?" Still processing the sudden turn of events, Kevin nodded instinctively. Then he dashed to his room and returned with all his travel documents. He had developed excellent habits from a young age, always keeping his belongings organized and secure. "Wow, you're in luck, Kev! There's one last ticket on the flight tonight. But it's in economy class." She stroked her chin thoughtfully. "Tell you what, I'll swap my first-class ticket with the person sitting next to you. We'll tough out a few hours in economy together. Is that OK with you?" Kevin nodded vigorously, his excitement barely contained. Was all of this real? Madeleine was not only taking him out but was also willing to sit with him? In the past, she had always hated having him nearby, showing a face of disgust every time. "Mommy..." Being just a child, he couldn't hold back what was weighing on his mind. "You don't like me, do you?" he asked. "What?" Madeleine put down her phone, crouched down, and gently wiped his tears with a tissue. "Why would you ever think that?" "You said ... you didn't like Daddy. And I'm the baby you had with the man you don't like. So ... you must not like me either." "That's not true at all!" Madeleine immediately denied, frowning. "Kev, you're adorable. There's no way I couldn't like you." Blinking, Kevin asked tentatively, "So, Mommy, does that mean ... you like Daddy?" "I..." Madeleine was taken aback. She had almost walked right into his little logical trap. She let out an awkward, dry laugh. "Kev, sweetie, those are two completely different things." Kevin's shoulders slumped. He sighed inwardly. This, at least, hadn't changed—she still didn't like Roderick. ###Chapter 10 "Alright, Kev, we've got a plane to catch. How about I help you pack? It's the weekend tomorrow. And we're going to have some fun!" "OK!" Their packing inevitably caused a commotion. Downstairs, Kirsten frantically paced back and forth while calling Roderick. Finally, he picked up. "Hello? Mr. Roderick? Bad news! I think Mrs. Livingston is preparing to run away with Mr. Kevin! I overheard them talking about packing and their passports!" Roderick was in the middle of a high-level executive meeting. The moment he heard this, his hand tightened around the phone, his eyes darkening dangerously. The conference room fell into dead silence. He stormed out without a word, phone in hand. His assistant, Gerry Hammond, immediately announced that the meeting had adjourned. Having worked for Roderick for years, Gerry knew that Madeleine was once again the cause of this upheaval. "Mr. Roderick," Kirsten ventured, "should I call security to stop Mrs. Livingston and Mr. Kevin at the door?" "No need." Roderick stood by the window, pinching the bridge of his nose, an aura of almost despair surrounding him. He was suppressing a torrent of grief and disappointment. "Kirsten," he said, his voice hoarse, "let them go." "But ... Mr. Kevin is your son..." "I know. I'll bring him back." After hanging up, Roderick took a deep breath to steady his rage and turned to Gerry. "Book me a flight to Phelrania. The sooner, the better." Gerry immediately checked his phone. "Mr. Livingston, the earliest flight departs after midnight and arrives tomorrow morning." Tomorrow morning? Roderick let out a bitter laugh. By the time he arrived, would he be greeted by the sight of Madeleine sharing a bed with Edward? After dropping Madeleine and Kevin off at the international terminal, the driver left. Traveling abroad alone with a child was a first for Madeleine, and it posed a huge challenge. Back in 2017, human traffickers had been rampant, forcing parents to remain constantly vigilant in public. She wasn't sure if things had improved by 2025, so from the moment they entered the airport, she held Kevin's hand tightly and didn't let go. Fortunately, Kevin was exceptionally well-behaved. He stayed quietly by her side, kept his passport secure, and even occasionally corrected her when she headed in the wrong direction. Though he maintained a calm exterior, he was inwardly thrilled. He sensed that Madeleine had changed somehow—in the past, she would never have taken him out like this. As he looked down at her hand holding his, he couldn't suppress a grin. Being led by his mother felt wonderful. Madeleine's uneasiness finally began to ease after they landed in Phelrania that night. The air was comparatively chilly, so they changed into warmer clothes after getting off the plane. As Madeleine crouched to fasten the buttons on Kevin's coat, she frowned. Something felt off. "Mommy..." Kevin gently stopped her, unfastened the decorative buttons, and instead zipped up the inner zipper. "It doesn't work like that," he explained. Madeleine was taken aback for a second, then offered an awkward smile. Clothing design had become far more complicated than she remembered. Who would have thought the buttons were merely decorative? "Mommy, where are we going now?" Once properly dressed, Kevin deftly took hold of Madeleine's hand, unwilling to let go for even a moment. "I've booked a hotel. We'll stay there tonight," she replied. She then paused, stopping in her tracks to look down at him. "But I only booked one room. Kev, are you OK with sharing a bed with me?" Kevin was stunned. He looked up at her and blinked, his eyes wide with disbelief. "I... I can sleep with you, Mommy?" Finding his question odd, she tilted her head. "Of course. Haven't you ever slept with me before?" He mirrored her, tilting his own head. After a moment, he said quietly, "No. You said you didn't like it." Madeleine's lips parted slightly, a fresh wave of guilt washing over her. "It's OK. We can sleep together every night from now on." "Alright!" Madeleine had always been a top student with outstanding academic performance. Furthermore, her dancing had often required her to travel abroad for training and competitions, which allowed her to become fluent in several languages. Thanks to this, they checked into the hotel without a hitch. After a quick meal at the hotel restaurant, they returned to their room to unwind. Despite being only four years old, Kevin was remarkably independent. He took a shower, dried his hair, and even pulled out his own bottle of children's facial cream to moisturize his skin. Then, he looked eagerly at the large bed. Perfect! He got to share the big bed with Madeleine! However, when he glanced up, he found her staring at him with a look of distinct disapproval. ###Chapter 11 The excitement in his eyes dimmed slightly. Was she having second thoughts? "Kevin," Madeleine said suddenly, her tone serious. Kevin's face immediately paled. "Who bought you these pajamas? You look like a little old man," she declared. Kevin was dumbfounded. What was she talking about? He looked down at his dark blue silk pajamas. They were a simple, classic style without any fancy designs. They were exactly like the ones Roderick wore. Did that make Roderick an old man? "This won't do. I'm taking you shopping tomorrow for some new clothes. You're much too cute to be dressed so plainly. It's practically a crime." She had wanted to complain when she saw him in that stuffy little suit jacket earlier in the day—it was far too formal and not at all suitable for a child his age. "Why are you still standing there? Aren't you cold? Come over here. I've warmed up your side of the bed." She patted the empty space beside her, her own heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and excitement. She got to sleep cuddling such an adorable little boy tonight. The very thought of it made her incredibly happy. No one had ever told her that having a child—and skipping all the pain of childbirth—could feel this wonderful. Kevin was overjoyed. His face lit up as he scrambled onto the bed toward her. It was so warm and carried a faint, pleasant fragrance. Was this what Mommy smelled like? He had never felt happier. "Alright, Kev, time for sleep. Tomorrow, after we get up, we'll go shopping, and then you'll accompany me to a performance in the evening. Sound good?" "Yes!" "Great. Now, time for some bedtime stories," Madeleine offered. Kevin stared at her, his eyes wide. Really? Was she going to tell him stories? Roderick was always the one who did that. Having no experience in coaxing a child to sleep, Madeleine thought for a moment and began telling him classic tales like Snow White and Little Red Riding Hood. But he listened with rapt attention, occasionally interrupting to ask, "And then what happened?" She was surprised. "You've never heard these stories before?" He shook his head. "Daddy has never told me any of these." "Then what does he tell you?" Thinking for a while, Kevin answered, "Lately? 'Einstein's Autobiography'." Madeleine was rendered speechless. The world had truly gone mad. Roderick had been the most rebellious and unruly child she knew. How, during the years she couldn't remember, had he morphed into such a serious figure? Kevin was just a little boy. Why did he need to know about Einstein's life? This was the age for him to be filled with fairy tales! "Kev," she promised, "if you like the stories I tell, I'll tell you one every single day from now on. How does that sound?" Kevin was on the verge of tears. This felt like a dream—a wonderful, happy dream. Why else would Madeleine suddenly be so kind to him? He fought back the tears and nodded vigorously. After she finished another story, they both yawned, nestling close to each other before drifting into a deep, sound sleep. Even as he fell asleep, Kevin kept a tight grip on Madeleine's finger, afraid that if he let go, he would wake up and find it all had been a dream. At 5:30 a.m. in Phelrania. The plane touched down. Roderick and Gerry switched on their phones simultaneously. A bank notification about his card being used abroad immediately popped up on Roderick's screen, which he forwarded to Gerry. Within five minutes, Gerry had traced the transaction to a downtown hotel. In a hotel... With each step, Roderick's footsteps grew heavier, a bitterness so profound it threatened to suffocate him. Madeleine came all this way just for Edward. "How many rooms did she book?" "One..." Before Gerry could finish speaking, Roderick halted abruptly, his eyes burning with fury. Only one room? Where was Kevin supposed to be? Was Madeleine so shameless that she would bring Kevin with her while she was doing it with Edward? He knew her. She'd probably left Kevin waiting outside the door! "Madeleine, how could you? How could you be so heartless?" He cursed under his breath, his eyes reddening. He knew she didn't love him, but to treat Kevin with such cruelty... Kevin had never done anything to deserve this. Following behind, Gerry felt a lump form in his own throat, his eyes distressed as he watched Roderick's rigid back. He didn't understand. Roderick was exceptional in every way. Why was his affection fixated solely on Madeleine? Was it merely because they were childhood sweethearts? Yet, she had shattered his heart so ruthlessly... "To the hotel," Roderick commanded. "OK." Gerry nodded and quickly retrieved the car from the airport, a sense of unease growing inside him. He was now driving Roderick to catch Madeleine in the act. Now, only one thought filled his mind—would he be silenced afterwards? He could only hope the impending confrontation wouldn't be too ugly.