Chapter 3 The Viper's Nest

Of course, I wasn't worried.

Arthur and I had been childhood sweethearts. After my parents died, he was the one who stayed by my side. But a bond forged in childhood wasn't strong enough to withstand the heat of a new romance.

From the moment Chloe transferred to our school, Arthur's heart belonged to her. He became her devoted shadow, even helping her cheat on exams to maintain her perfect-student facade. I warned him it was wrong, that it wouldn't help her in the long run, and that we should tell the teacher the truth.

He lashed out, calling me jealous. "You have no proof," he spat, his eyes cold. "If you breathe a word, I'll make sure everyone thinks it was your idea."

The betrayal cut deep. Hurt and disillusioned, I drifted away.

In our senior year, Chloe vanished—leaving to study abroad without a word to anyone, especially Arthur. He crumpled. Despair swallowed him whole, his grades plummeted, and he barely scraped into a community college.

After graduation, fate threw us together in the same city. He pursued me again, brushing Chloe aside as if she were ancient history. His sweet words and apologies chipped away at my defenses, and eventually, I relented.

We married and had a beautiful son. But Arthur never truly let go of Chloe. When she reappeared, tangled in her dangerous schemes, he followed her lead—a path that ultimately cost our son his life.

Chloe? She was no saint. Selfish and ruthless to the core. From her carefully chosen words and the hungry look in her eyes when I left her at the hospital, I knew she was hooked. Fame was a siren song she couldn't ignore, and she wouldn't miss this opportunity.

As long as Leo followed my script, Arthur would end up not as her grateful patient, but as the unwitting guinea pig on her operating table this time. Let's see how grateful he would be for her "lifesaving" skills after waking up without his legs!

Keeping up the desperate-wife act, I rushed to Dr. Sterling's house. Just like a lifetime ago, I knelt before him, pleading. "Please, Doctor! You're his only chance!"

Though skeptical—the situation was complex and the timeline tight—Dr. Sterling was moved by my seeming desperation, just as he had been before. He agreed to take the case.

"Arrange the transfer to Eastwood Medical Center immediately," he urged, his expression grave. "We have very little time."

I frantically called the city hospital, but the nurse cut me off, her tone apologetic. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but the amputation surgery has already been completed. Dr. Vance performed it."

Chloe had operated. His legs were gone.

Driving back from Dr. Sterling's, a grim satisfaction washed over me. I could barely contain my grin, an old, vengeful tune humming on my lips.

Leo met me at the door, tears streaking his face.

"Mom," he choked out, wrapping his arms around me. "Go see Dad. He's... he's destroyed his room. He can't accept it. He keeps screaming about his legs."

I raised an eyebrow, feigning distress. "Oh? And Chloe? Where is she now?"

Leo pulled back slightly, giving me a knowing look that quickly morphed back into sorrow. He patted my back.

"Inside with him. Trying to calm him down." His voice dropped almost to a whisper. "Grandma and Grandpa are here too."

Ha. What a delightful nest of vipers had gathered.

Arthur's parents had always looked down on me. My family's modest background was never good enough. After my parents died, leaving me an orphan with a small inheritance, they deemed me utterly unworthy of their precious son.

Only when my career took off, soaring while Arthur floundered, did their disapproval soften to a grudging acceptance. Even then, they constantly preached about how fortunate I was, how Arthur had sacrificed his own potential to support me, urging endless gratitude.

Once, I believed them. I treated them with reverence, catering to their every whim. But true hearts don't earn true loyalty. A lifetime ago, when Leo faced amputation, followed by a crushing depression diagnosis, they were worse than indifferent. They called him weak.

"Useless," his own grandmother had hissed. And on the day Leo died, they didn't mourn. Instead, they clapped, saying it was for the best, sparing their son the burden of a defective child.

A dark, cold glint flashed in my eyes as I patted Leo's shoulder. "Stay here," I murmured.

As I opened the bedroom door, an apple came flying straight at my head. I dodged instinctively. My movement only fueled my mother-in-law's rage.

With a shriek, she lunged at me, nails clawing and fists pounding.

"You bitch!" she screamed, spittle flying. "This is how you care for my son?!"

"You did this! Why aren't you the cripple?! Give me back my son's legs!"