Chapter 2

"I didn't do it!" Rachel protested, her voice shaking with pent-up emotion.

Michael scoffed, looking down at her like she was dirt. "You're smart; you know what to do."

And with that, he turned and left, leaving behind a silence colder than the winter air outside.

Rachel stared at her reflection in the mirror, pale and worn out. Was this really her? She used to be so proud, but this relationship had turned her into something so humble and broken. How pathetic.

After a long moment, she exhaled slowly, her resolve hardening. "Time to give up," she muttered to herself.

The next morning, Michael took Mandy to the hospital for a check-up.

Rachel stood in front of the mirror, ditched the apron she'd worn for six years, slipped into a white dress, and grabbed her suitcase.

James was lounging, watching TV. He looked up and said, "Hey! Where you going?"

Rachel shot him a cold glance, ignored him, and headed straight for the door.

Realizing she was serious, James scrambled after her, grabbing her suitcase. "Are you deaf? Didn't you hear me? Did you clean the room? Did you cook? Where are you going so early?"

The sixteen-year-old brat had never shown her any respect, and his demands had only gotten worse over the years.

Rachel pried his fingers off her suitcase one by one. "Listen, from now on, I'm not your servant," she said, her voice firm and unyielding.

James, taken aback, started yelling, "Mom! Mom, get over here! Rachel's bullying me!"

Emily appeared instantly, wielding a stick. Seeing the confrontation, her face twisted with rage. "You bitch, how dare you bully my son! I'll beat you to death!"

Emily had hit her before, and Rachel had taken it for Michael's sake. But not this time.

Rachel grabbed the stick out of Emily's hands and tossed it to the ground, her voice icy and controlled. "How dare you!" she challenged.

Emily, stunned, stepped back. When she recovered, she screamed, "Rachel, what are you doing? I'm gonna make my son divorce you!"

In the past, Rachel had avoided confrontation out of respect for Michael's grandma, Catherine, and to avoid Michael's disapproval. She had been scared. But now, she couldn't care less.

"Go ahead," she replied coldly.

Ignoring the shouting and curses behind her, Rachel dragged her suitcase out the door. Outside, a red Ferrari was waiting, and the handsome guy inside waved at her. "Rachel, get in."

Without a second glance back, Rachel climbed into the car, and they sped away.