Three Years of Vows, Five Years of Lies

They threw us out of my daughter's preschool on her very first day.
Mr. Vance's son has been enrolled here for a year, the principal said, her expression a mask of confusion. We have no record of a daughter.
I stood there, dumbfounded. My husband and I only had one child, Lily, and she was just now old enough for school. How could she possibly have been attending for a year?
A quick investigation revealed the truth. A new assistant at my husband's company, a woman named Isabella, had enrolled her own child a year ago, presenting herself as Mrs. Vance.
When I confronted her, she simply sent me a photo of a marriage certificate.
"I know who you are," her text read. "The woman who's been harassing my husband for years, right?"
The photo was crystal clear. The embossed seal from City Hall, the smiling faces in the picture. The date was stamped five years ago.
But Alan and I had only been married for three.

1
"Mommy," Lily whispered on the drive home, her voice trembling as she fought back tears. "Am I really a stray?"
I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. "Of course not, sweetheart. You're Mommy and Daddy's only treasure."
That was all it took. The tears spilled from her wide eyes, her small voice thick with a pain that shattered my heart. "Then why did Isabella's son say he's Daddy's treasure? All the other kids said it too. They pushed me and… and they called me a bastard…"
I glanced in the rearview mirror at the faint red mark on her cheek and felt a fresh wave of fury. Her first day of school, and it had been a nightmare.
The worst part was the marriage certificate Isabella had sent me. The man standing next to her, his arm wrapped around her waist, was the same man who had held me in his arms countless times. The official seal was undeniable, and the date—five years ago—mocked my own three-year marriage.
Thinking back, Isabella's arrival at the company had been sudden. She was hired directly as Alan's executive assistant.
Could it be…?
I refused to let my mind go there. I pulled out my phone and dialed Alan’s number.
It wasn't him who answered, but his male assistant. "Mr. Vance is in a crucial negotiation, ma'am. All electronic devices are prohibited. Can I take a message?"
"Was Alan ever married before me?" I asked, my voice tight.
The assistant paused, and after I quickly explained the situation, he stammered a reassurance. "That certificate must be photoshopped, Mrs. Vance! I swear, the boss wouldn't dare!"
His words calmed me slightly. It was true, Alan wouldn't have the guts. But I still needed to hear it from him. For now, all I could do was wait.
We had just purchased a sprawling estate in a top-tier school district to be closer to Lily's new preschool. Today was supposed to be our official move-in day.
But as I pulled up to the wrought-iron gates, my heart sank. The house, which I was meant to be the first to enter, was swarming with people. Movers bustled in and out, carrying luggage that wasn't mine.
A massive banner was strung across the grand entrance:
CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR NEW HOME, MRS. VANCE
A throng of reporters crowded the driveway, their cameras flashing, all aimed at a single, impeccably dressed woman.
My breath caught in my throat as I recognized her.
Isabella. What in God's name was she doing here?

2
The reporters were like sharks in a feeding frenzy.
"Isabella! Isabella! Is the marriage certificate you posted online real? Did you leave Hollywood because you found true love?"
My hands trembled as I unlocked my phone. The internet had exploded.
#IsabellaAndAlanVance
#IsabellaRevealsSecretMarriage
#AlanVance: The Love I've Hidden for Five Years
The top post was Isabella's, featuring the very same marriage certificate she'd sent me.
Her caption read: [Yes, it's been five wonderful years.]
The comments section was a wildfire:
[OMG I KNEW IT! I knew our goddess didn't retire just to avoid that washed-up hack Ava!]
[Please, as if Ava could ever compete with Isabella. Three years later and she's still a nobody.]
[I'm a preschool teacher, and today Ava actually brought a kid in claiming she was Alan Vance's daughter. The secondhand embarrassment is REAL! LMAO!]
[This is next-level delusion. What a psycho.]
[Even before our goddess retired, that snake Ava was always sniffing around Alan. Joke's on her, he was already married! I'm living for this drama!]
[Awwww, so she wasn't gone, she was just secretly happy all this time! We love you, Queen!]
"What is all this junk? Get it out of here," Isabella's voice dripped with disdain as she waved a dismissive hand at a collection of brand-new art pieces I had curated. "Alan will be upset if he sees this clutter."
At her command, workers began hauling my things toward a dumpster. My precious antiques, rare books, and paintings I'd collected from around the world were being tossed onto a pile of garbage.
"Stop!" I stormed out of my car, grabbing a worker's arm. I turned my glare on Isabella. "Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house?"
A wave of murmurs rippled through the reporters.
"Oh my god, it's that psycho Ava. She actually showed up?"
"Hey, can't you read the banner? It says 'Mrs. Vance.' Are you Mrs. Vance? I don't think so!"
"Has she completely lost her mind? Is she trying to claim this mansion now, too?"
"An estate like this has to be worth nine figures. She's just a desperate clout-chaser."
Crack!
My hand connected with the cheek of a particularly loud-mouthed journalist. "And what gives you the right to be here? Did I invite you in?" I knocked the camera from his grip and shoved him toward the gate. "Get out!"
"Stop this at once!"
A delicate hand blocked my path. Isabella stood before me, her brow furrowed with an air of regal displeasure. "Ms. Miller, I'm generally a patient person, but that gives you no right to cause a scene on my property!"

3
"She's completely unhinged! Attacking people at our goddess's housewarming? Does she really think this is her home?"
"She probably thinks she's the real Mrs. Vance. It's pathetic."
I shot Isabella a look of pure venom. "Move. You and every other uninvited guest are not welcome in my home."
Isabella positioned herself protectively in front of the reporter, her expression hardening. "Ms. Miller, I'm aware you've held a grudge against me because of my husband. I can overlook that. If you've come today to offer your congratulations on my new home, you are welcome as my guest. But if you continue this… this unhinged spectacle, I will have no choice but to have you removed."
Dressed in a bespoke silk dress with a delicate bamboo print and a white shawl draped over her shoulders, she looked like a vision of pure elegance. Her clear, firm voice captivated everyone present.
The camera flashes were blinding.
"She's incredible! The poise, the class! I'm obsessed!"
"So gracious and yet so firm. Where can I sign up to be her loyal servant for life? Crying!"
"If I were her, after this psycho impersonated me and crashed my party, I'd have had security throw her out on her face ages ago!"
Isabella's lips curved into a subtle, triumphant smirk. She lifted her chin, her gaze locking onto mine. "For the sake of our past professional acquaintance, Ms. Miller, I suggest you leave before you cause any more trouble."
Slap!
The sound echoed, sharp and final. A red mark blossomed on her perfect cheek. I slammed the property deed onto her chest and grabbed the collar of her dress. "Read this carefully. This is my property, not yours. I haven't even settled the score with you for stealing my daughter's spot at preschool, and now you show up to squat in my house? You're just my husband's assistant. Who gave you permission to act like the lady of the manor?"
"Ah!" she cried out, stumbling back in her high heels. She clutched her face, her voice a trembling whisper. "Help me…"
"Have you no shame?" a man shouted, shoving me so hard I nearly toppled over, a sharp pain shooting through my fingernail. "Is this how you get attention? By crashing someone else's party and causing a scene? I've been holding back this whole time out of respect for Isabella, but you've gone too far! You really think we're afraid to touch you?"
I regained my footing, my phone clutched in my hand. A cold smile spread across my face. "Good. I've already called the police. Go ahead, lay another finger on me. I dare you."
At the mention of the police, a flicker of panic crossed Isabella's face.
But the reporters drowned it out. "Please! You're the one trespassing! The police are coming for you! Get out of here now! This is Isabella's home, we don't want your filth here!"
Someone grabbed my arm, yanking me violently toward the gate. I lost my balance, stumbling backward, about to crash onto the hard pavement.
"What is going on here?"
A sharp, familiar voice cut through the chaos.
I snapped my head up.

4
"It's the new estate manager!"
"I remember her! Our paper did a feature on her—the brilliant young woman from a disadvantaged background who became a top-tier manager!"
As Olivia walked toward us, a sliver of hope ignited within me. "Olivia! Thank God! Tell them! Tell them the truth!"
Olivia was a university student I had personally sponsored for years. She was so exceptionally bright that I'd hired her straight out of graduation to manage my new estate. If anyone could clear this up, it was her.
"Olivia…" Isabella's confident facade wavered.
I shot her a triumphant glare and pulled Olivia forward by the hand. "Olivia, tell all these people whose house this really is."
"Ma'am…" Olivia's hand squirmed in my grasp until she pulled it free. She offered me a strained, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I don't recall inviting you today."
"Olivia?" I stared at her, my mind reeling.
But she had already moved to Isabella's side. She gently tucked a loose strand of Isabella's hair behind her ear. "Are you alright, Mrs. Vance?" she asked with deep concern.
"Mrs. Vance…"
The words hit me like a physical blow. I grabbed Olivia's arm, forcing her to look at me. "You don't know me? It's me, Ava! The woman who sponsored your education!"
Olivia looked terrified, her smile crumbling into a mask of distress. "I… I'm sorry, but it's always been Mrs. Vance who sponsored me…"
Fury surged through me. "I am Mrs. Vance! I was at your graduation last month! You knew who I was then!"
"No… I didn't… I don't know what you're talking about…" Tears welled in Olivia's eyes, her voice breaking into a sob.
"That's enough!"
A hand slapped mine away. Isabella pulled Olivia behind her, shielding her protectively. She fixed me with a look of righteous anger. "I know you hate me for stealing Alan's heart, but this is between us. Take it out on me, but don't you dare bully an innocent girl!"

5
"Wow, now that's how a real benefactor acts!"
"Exactly! A true patron treats the person they sponsor like their own child. They'd never grab and interrogate them like that!"
"I'm literally crying. Our goddess isn't just magnanimous, she's a saint! She and Mr. Vance deserve a lifetime of happiness!"
"What is wrong with that witch Ava? First she tries to steal her man, now she's trying to steal credit for her charity work? How can someone be so shameless?"
The cameras flashed relentlessly. I stared in disbelief at Olivia cowering behind Isabella. "Olivia…"
Olivia's gaze darted away, refusing to meet mine. Tears streamed down her face. "Please, ma'am, I don't know you. Please just leave me alone…"
"Ava!" Isabella held the girl tighter, her eyes narrowed at me. "I won't let you hurt her!"
A single strand of her hair fell across her face, a portrait of fragile beauty. But her eyes burned with a fierce, protective fire. She was the perfect picture of a wronged heroine—suffering, yet resolute.
"Ugh, my heart breaks for Isabella! It's all that bitch's fault!"
"I can't take it anymore! Someone needs to teach that witch a lesson!"
"Hey, forget her for a second. That car she's driving… I think I've seen it on Isabella's Instagram. Is she even faking that?"
"Get it! Let's trash that piece of junk!"
"No!" My heart leaped into my throat.
But it was too late. A group of men had already swarmed my car, one of them smashing a heavy pipe against the windshield.
A piercing scream erupted from inside the vehicle. Lily.
"Shut up! Like mother, like daughter! Keep crying and we'll drag you out here and beat you too!"
"LILY!" I screamed, trying to push through the crowd, but a stiletto-clad foot shot out, tripping me. I fell hard to the ground.
Isabella stood over me, her arms crossed, a cold, triumphant smile playing on her lips.
Hands grabbed me, hauling me to my feet. A stinging slap landed across my face. "We gave you a chance to leave peacefully, you bitch. I guess you wanted to do this the hard way."
"Let's see how tough you are now!"
The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I bit down hard on the hand that held me, and the man yelped in pain, snatching it back.
Gritting my teeth, I wrenched the diamond wedding ring from my finger and flung it at the man's face. "I am Alan Vance's wife. You will all pay for this!"
Someone caught the ring. For a moment, there was silence. Then, his face paled. "The 'Starfall'? The one-of-a-kind ring Alan bought at that auction for a fortune? How does she have it?"
"Wait… didn't he say he was saving that for his real wedding ring?"
I spat out a mouthful of blood. "Let me go," I said, my voice dangerously low. "And I might forget this happened."
"Ha! Such a crude knockoff, and you have the audacity to pass it off as the real thing?"
Another ring, nearly identical to mine, was tossed at my feet. Isabella pulled the genuine article from her purse, dangling it in front of me with a sneer. "Ms. Miller, I had no idea your obsession with me went this deep. Even a replica of the Starfall must have cost you a pretty penny."
My breath hitched. "Impossible… He bought that at auction and put it on my finger himself. Where did you get that fake?"
SLAP!
Isabella's hand struck my face again, her eyebrows knitted in frustration. "I am so tired of you! I've given you chance after chance, and still, you insist on harassing me and my husband!"
She pulled a thick file from her bag and threw it at me, the papers scattering across the ground at my feet.
"Take a good look! See for yourself who the real homewrecker is!"
A marriage certificate lay open before me. The one I had dismissed as a cheap photoshop, now undeniably real. The man in the photograph was grinning, his arm wrapped tightly around Isabella.
Alan…
My fingers trembled as I picked up the photos one by one. Pictures of them as children, in high school, in college, at work. Holding hands on the way to class. Alan taking a huge bite out of Isabella's ice cream cone. Sharing a radiant smile at an amusement park at night…
They had known each other for so long…
They had been married… for five years…
My three years of marriage dissolved into a cruel, pathetic joke.
A set of car keys hit my face. "I won't see you out," Isabella said coolly. "Good luck."
Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the noise.
"Lily? What's going on here? Everybody stop!"
It was Alan.
And behind him, the wail of police sirens.

6
"Shhh, it's okay, baby. Daddy's here…" Alan gently lifted a sobbing Lily from the car.
The police quickly began to cordon off the area, pushing the mob of reporters back.
When Alan saw me, his expression darkened. He handed Lily to his assistant and rushed to my side. "Ava, what happened to you—"
SLAP!
I hit him with every ounce of strength I had left. He staggered back, clutching his cheek, his eyes wide with shock. "Ava?"
"How does it feel," I asked, my voice dripping with ice, "living a double life?"
He stared at me, confused. "What are you talking about?"
I threw his marriage certificate with Isabella at his chest. "I want a divorce. I get Lily."
I turned to take my daughter from the assistant, but Alan grabbed my arm. "Ava, wait. This is a misunderstanding, I swear. You're the only one for me…"
His voice trailed off.
Isabella was walking toward us.
The moment Alan saw her, his hand on my arm went rigid. His expression hardened.

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