My husband kept sl:apping me in the face over a trivial thing. The next morning, he saw a lavish feast and said, "It's good that you've finally come to your senses!" But he panicked and nearly fainted from shock after seeing the guests seated at the table...

With the trial concluded and Daniel officially locked away, the long, painful chapter of my life associated with the Sterling name was finally closed.

My divorce was finalized three weeks later. I legally restored my maiden name, Sarah Bennett, across all documents, accounts, and properties.

Evelyn Sterling, unable to secure employment in Seattle due to her publicly ruined reputation, packed her two remaining suitcases and moved to a small town in Eastern Washington, where she took a job working the front desk at a budget motel—a life far removed from the marble foyers and silk robes she had once believed were her birthright.

Meanwhile, Crestview Manor underwent a complete transformation.

I hired an interior design team to completely strip the cold, pretentious marble decor that Daniel and Evelyn had loved. We replaced the heavy, dark furniture with light oak wood, warm linen fabrics, and large, bright houseplants.

The dining room—the room where Daniel had stood over me with whiskey on his breath—was converted into a spacious, light-filled art studio and library.

One evening, I hosted a warm, intimate dinner party at my newly renovated home.

There were no gilded china plates. No artificial high-society pretension. No whispers of financial leverage.

Around my new wooden dining table sat Arthur Hayes, Detective Miller (who had become a close personal friend over the past months), Marcus Vance, my lead accountant Karen, and three of my oldest friends from my logistics business.

We drank good wine, ate delicious homemade food, and laughed until late into the night.