Six years ago, I held the pregnancy test wanting to tell him I was pregnant, only to see him kiss his former love in front of the media. Six years later, I returned home with my daughter and discovered that my new boss was him. He chased me, asking whose child it was, and I sneered, "None of your business." Until he got hold of that crooked little moon ring—it was a craft my daughter had made with him. During the global live launch, he announced to everyone, "Lucy is my daughter." And the woman who broke us up back then looked worse than a corpse.
