For four years, I lived as the Godmother of the Eugene family, believing Byron’s care was love. I had once been a gifted dancer; by the end, I could barely walk.
Then I discovered the truth: his adopted sister Arin had drugged me, and Byron had known all along. To honor a childhood promise, he destroyed my evidence, forced me to forgive her, and planned to make me raise Arin’s child.
I signed the divorce papers, vanished to Europe, and released the recordings, medical files, and DNA report. Arin’s baby was not Byron’s, the Eugene family collapsed into scandal, and he found the divorce certificate too late.
While Byron searched Europe like a madman, I learned to walk again, built the Rebirth platform and Moonlight Charity, married Benjamin, and became the mother of our daughter, Joy.
He thought regret, punishment, illness, and even death could repay what he owed. But when he left his estate to my child, I shredded the papers. I had cut the last tie to the Godfather—and built a life that belonged only to me.
