Love, Lies and Reckoning

My father was notorious in elite circles, known as a shameless playboy who indulged in countless affairs.

Until one day, a seemingly innocent woman knelt at our doorstep.

"Mrs. Lambert, I'm already carrying Mr. Lambert's baby. I beg you. Please allow us to be together."

My mother nodded, and without a word, stripped my father of everything, leaving him with nothing but the clothes on his back.

"Consider it done. You're welcome."

1

From as early as I could remember, I knew there was no such thing as love between my parents. My mother always told me their marriage was purely a business arrangement.

My father, the infamous playboy, spent his days surrounded by beautiful women.

But he always adhered to one rule, no illegitimate children.

In their ten years of marriage, the women around him came and went, but in public, his only companion was always my mother.

On my mother's birthday, in an effort to make her smile, he spent an astronomical sum on a unique ruby necklace, valued at billions, as her birthday gift.

It was his way of proving his so-called "devotion" to her.

Rumor had it that one of his mistresses was present at the auction that day. Enraged, she nearly demanded he buy her a set of jewelry on the spot to balance the scales between them.

After the auction, I watched the two of them argue outside the car and turned to my mother.

"Why doesn't Dad just buy her some jewelry to make her happy? That way, they wouldn't fight anymore."

My mother glanced at the scene outside with indifference, then casually set aside the jewelry her assistant had handed her.

"Regina, always remember, if something isn't yours, it's wiser not to desire it. A mistress will always be a mistress. No matter what, she can never become the wife. Overstepping boundaries will only lead to her own downfall."

My mother was right. The next day, that woman was out of the "three-person game".

Her ambition was simply too great. She dared to dream of becoming my father's official partner-a position she was never qualified to hold.

But she didn't give up easily. My father, in a fit of anger, sent her away. I imagine she must have regretted her naive aspirations.

Soon enough, a new secretary appeared by my father's side.

Unlike the flashy, heavily made-up women before her, this secretary had a much more innocent air about her. She was like a lotus flower, rising pure and untainted from the mud.

My father introduced her as Paisley Harrison, a girl from a remote countryside.

When Paisley met us, she was exceedingly polite. She lowered her gaze, carefully placed two cups of freshly brewed coffee before us, and served the pastries my mother and I liked most.

"Mrs. Lambert, these were prepared under Mr. Lambert's instructions," she said softly.

My mother squinted at the secretary briefly, then smiled faintly before watching her obediently return to my father's side to collect the signed documents and take them out.

Seeing her hard at work, my mother called her over to sit and rest for a while. But Paisley, looking nervous, glanced at my father and repeatedly declined.

"Mrs. Lambert, you're too kind. I wouldn't dare."

With that, she grabbed the last document and fled in a panic.

As the glass door closed behind her, my mother and I exchanged a knowing look.

After leaving the office, my mother handed a card to her assistant and instructed them to pass it to Paisley as a token of appreciation for the pastries.

I quickly stopped my mother and offered to deliver the message myself, saying it would better convey our gratitude.

My mother gave me a glance but didn't object. As soon as I got out of the car, I wiped the smile off my face.

My father would never have expected me to return to his office. The door was slightly ajar, and through the frosted glass, I could clearly see Paisley perched on his lap. Her delicate voice drifted through the crack in the door.

"Let me massage your shoulders to help you relax."

When I told my mother about this, she merely curled her lips into a faint smile, as if the outcome didn't surprise her at all.

If Paisley was truly as innocent as she appeared, how could she have known what pastries my mother and I liked? She must have been scheming all along.

My mother immediately picked up her phone and instructed her assistant to halt certain projects involving the Lambert Group and to throw obstacles in their way to make their future endeavors less smooth.

When the Lambert Group caught wind of this, they didn't dare confront my mother directly. Instead, they reported the matter to my father. But my father, ever carefree, simply brushed it off. "Let her do as she pleases," he said nonchalantly.

Years ago, the Lambert family had set their sights on the Saunders family because Saunders family was the only business entity that could rival them. And as luck would have it, the Saunders family had only one daughter-Olivia Saunders, my mother. Without consulting my mother, they arranged her marriage to my father.

No one ever cared about my mother's thoughts, nor did anyone ever consider her feelings.

But my mother understood that being born into such a family meant she never had a choice in matters of marriage.

After joining the Lambert family, she used their resources to elevate the Saunders family's business to unparalleled heights in the industry.

Meanwhile, my father, the only heir of the Lambert family, was spoiled and adored by his family. He lived a life of luxury and indulgence, never needing to restrain his playful nature-even after marriage. And my mother? She simply turned a blind eye to his antics.

Some people might be born into wealth, but at their core, they remained utterly base.

It didn't take long for my mother and me to notice that my father seemed to treat Paisley differently.

At a business dinner, when a client tried to get Paisley to drink with him and even made inappropriate advances, my father immediately intervened.

He not only stopped the man but also knocked out one of his teeth, declaring that Paisley was his woman and off-limits to anyone else.

Though my father was always surrounded by women, my mother and I knew he had never jeopardized a business deal for any of them-let alone one of such significant value.

I asked my mother if my father had fallen in love with Paisley.

She gave me a calm look and continued sipping her green tea.

"He's just bored of fine wine and wants to try something simpler, like green tea, for a change. It's nothing to worry about."

My mother didn't take Paisley seriously, but she didn't expect Paisley to come to us herself.

She knelt on the smooth cobblestones outside our villa, her knees already bleeding slightly.

Yet she seemed oblivious to the pain. When she saw us step outside, tears streamed down her face, making her look pitiful.

She claimed to be a poor girl from the countryside, struggling to make ends meet. In order to change her life, she said she had worked hard to come to the city. She was lucky to meet my father, who not only gave her food and shelter but also love.

"I don't want a title or status. I just want to stay by Mr. Lambert's side, to help him when he needs me, to do what little I can. I truly love him. Please, Mrs. Lambert, let us be together."

My mother looked at her with an expressionless face, as if the story had nothing to do with her.

Having seen countless women approach us over the years, I was used to their provocations. But Paisley's tearful plea for approval was a rare sight.

"Paisley, do you even understand what love is?"

My mother walked over and crouched in front of her.

"True love is built on being evenly matched in status and strength. Without a foundation of equal standing, no matter how much mutual affection there is, it will never last. You and Javier are worlds apart, but you just don't realize that yet."

As she spoke, my mother stood up and looked down at Paisley from above.

"Love without a solid foundation is like a house built on sand-it crumbles at the first sign of trouble. On the other hand, love that relies solely on material wealth is nothing but a hollow shell, destined to collapse. No one can endlessly give without receiving anything in return. I'm giving you some advice. It's wise to take only what you deserve and nothing more."

Paisley stared blankly at my mother, her wide eyes betraying a mix of confusion and naivety. Just as she was about to respond, the screech of tires pierced the air. A car came to an abrupt stop in the driveway, and the driver's door swung open. My father stormed out, his face dark with anger.

"What are you doing? What do you think you're trying to do to Paisley?" he snapped.

2

My father's sudden outburst startled me. I froze, unsure of how to react.

Seeing my reaction, my father took a moment to compose himself. After a few deep breaths, he gently helped Paisley up from the ground, his expression softening into one of deep concern. Though his anger was evident, my presence seemed to force him to suppress it. He turned to my mother, his tone slightly more measured.

"Paisley hasn't had the opportunity for much education. She's straightforward and unassuming. All she wants is to be with me, nothing more. If she upset you today, I ask you to forgive her for my sake. That way, we can avoid any unnecessary awkwardness the next time we meet."

My mother glanced at my father, then shifted her gaze to Paisley, who was now clinging tightly to his arm, her fingers gripping him as if he were her lifeline.

"Paisley, what do you think about what I just said to you?"

Hearing this, Paisley shrank back slightly, her shoulders trembling. After a moment's hesitation, she tightened her grip on my father and replied, "I...I just want to stay by Mr. Lambert's side. I don't want anything else."

My father's expression softened further. He reached out and gently stroked Paisley's hair, his face lighting up with satisfaction, as if he had just acquired a small treasure he hadn't realized he valued.

Supporting Paisley, he led her to the car, and they drove away from the Lambert estate. My mother watched the car disappear into the distance before turning and walking back into the villa.

I couldn't help but ask why she said those things to Paisley.

"Sometimes, people need to be gently warned first," my mother replied calmly. "That way, when regret finally hits them, they'll understand just how bitter it tastes. Those who ignore good advice often end up regretting it."

And as it turned out, my mother's words proved true sooner than anyone expected.

Within a single day, Paisley had managed to get herself into a big trouble.

My father spent eight hundred million dollars to buy Paisley a villa, even going so far as to add her name to the property deed. The news spread quickly through the business world, and the extravagant gesture caused quite a stir. People whispered that my father had thoroughly disgraced the Lambert family.

Many even speculated that he had lost his mind.

After all, when he had gifted my mother a ten-billion-dollar jewelry set for her birthday, it wasn't just a lavish present. That gift symbolized the continuous flow of capital and skyrocketing stock prices that my mother's family brought to the Lambert Group.

But now, for Paisley-a woman with nothing to her name-he had thrown away eight hundred million dollars. It was like throwing the money away. He got nothing in return and had no chance to regret.

For the Lambert Group, eight hundred million dollars wasn't a trivial amount. The company was in the midst of preparing to expand into overseas markets and desperately needed that money to stabilize its position. The development team had been working tirelessly for months, waiting for approval to launch the project.

But now, all their efforts were wasted.

Word spread that my grandparents were furious. The moment they heard about the situation, they summoned my mother and me to their villa. As soon as we stepped through the front door, we saw Paisley kneeling on the floor, her head bowed repeatedly as she apologized to my grandparents.

"It's my fault. It's all my fault," she sobbed. "I only mentioned in passing how terrible the conditions were in the poorly maintained rental apartment I was staying in. I said I could hear pests scurrying around at night. I never imagined that the next day, Mr. Lambert would hand me a property deed and tell me he was giving me a villa. I don't deserve this. I really don't. Mr. Lambert has been so kind to me. I feel utterly unworthy of it. But if you must punish someone, punish me. He is innocent. This whole thing happened because I spoke carelessly."

When my grandmother saw us enter, she immediately walked over to my mother, taking her hand with a warm smile. But when she turned back to Paisley, her demeanor changed in an instant, her warmth replaced by cold disapproval. She snapped, her tone full of disdain.

"Javier has truly lost his mind this time, committing such a foolish act. But don't be too upset, Olivia. Our Lambert family would never allow a woman of such low standing to join our household."

At first, my father didn't think much of the situation-it was merely a matter of money, after all. But now, seeing Paisley kneeling in front of his family, begging and apologizing so desperately, completely devoid of dignity, he was utterly humiliated. For a man who valued his pride above all else, this was simply unacceptable.

He sat on the sofa, his face dark and stormy.

Having been married to him for so many years, my mother naturally understood his temperament. She walked over, sat beside him, and gently took his arm.

"Don't be angry. It's just a matter of a house. You know as well as I do-if money can fix it, then it's not worth losing sleep over. I'll figure something out, alright?"

Hearing this, my father, as expected, softened. He pulled my mother into his arms with a satisfied expression, a faint smile quickly replacing his earlier scowl. Ignoring Paisley, who was still kneeling before them, he lowered his head and spoke to my mother.

"Let's go. It's getting late. We should head home and rest."

Seeing this, my grandparents didn't say much either. With the help of their assistants, they were the first to leave.

My father, meanwhile, held my mother close and strode out of the villa with an air of authority and determination.

That night, there wasn't a shred of pity or remorse in my father's heart for Paisley, who remained kneeling on the floor.

3

Eight hundred million dollars was no small sum, but in my mother's eyes, it wasn't an insurmountable problem.

She told my father that the Saunders family could help the Lambert family bridge the financial gap, but there were conditions. My father would need to transfer five percent of his shares to my mother's name, and the Saunders family would be able to be involved in the Lambert family's future projects.

When my grandparents learned of this, they hesitated. After all, my mother already held twenty percent of the shares gifted to her by the Lambert family when she married into it. If she were to gain another five percent, she would hold as many shares as my father.

This would inevitably affect my father's position within the Lambert Group.

Moreover, allowing the Saunders family to participate in the Lambert family's projects would mean granting them access to internal information. In the business world, confidentiality was paramount.

Thus, my grandparents told my mother that this was a significant matter and should be thoroughly discussed with the board of directors before making a decision.

When my mother heard this, she simply nodded slightly.

"That's fine. It's only right to discuss it with everyone."

But at this critical moment, my father was not at the company. Instead, he was reportedly at the hospital with Paisley.

According to my father's assistant, Paisley had knelt outside the villa all night. By the time she was discovered, she had already passed out and was now in the emergency room.

My father, feeling guilty for her condition, had been staying by her side at the hospital for several days, neglecting his work.

So, when the assistant relayed my mother's proposal to my father, he agreed without hesitation.

At this point, he had no energy to manage the company and trusted my mother to handle the matter.

"Mom, it seems Paisley's actions have unwittingly played right into our hands."

My mother was holding a wine glass, curling her lips into a faint smile in the dim light.

"Regina, do you know the biggest difference between your mother and Paisley?" she asked, turning to me with a mysterious glint in her eyes.

I looked at her, puzzled. I said it was because her background and upbringing were far superior to Paisley's.

My mother shook her head at my response.

"It's patience. I can endure. And in this world, patience is what separates the winners from the losers. Impulsive, impatient people will always end up with nothing."

The Saunders family strategically assembled a highly skilled team to collaborate with the Lambert family. They also took over some of the Lambert family's projects. With the Saunders family's support, the Lambert family's financial issues were quickly resolved, and their overseas ventures began to flourish.

To celebrate the successful partnership between the two families, the Lambert family organized a grand banquet to solidify their standing in the business world.

Before the banquet, my grandfather specifically reminded my father that this was a crucial opportunity to scotch the rumors, restore the Lambert family's honor and credibility in the eyes of their peers.

My father agreed, but when he arrived at the banquet, he brought along the ever-controversial Paisley, whose presence was a glaring embarrassment, undermining the family's dignity and reputation.