Chapter 2

Seraphina’s POV

Saturday afternoon, I stood before a luxurious villa in San Jose, clutching a carefully chosen box of artisanal chocolates.

The golden gate gleamed, with a brand-new Bentley parked in front. The house's décor made me frown—excessively opulent, yet reeking of nouveau riche ostentation.

"This is it." I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

The door opened to reveal a slightly plump, middle-aged woman in a Chanel suit. She was head-to-toe designer labels, her necklace, bracelets, and rings sparkling as if announcing her wealth to the world.

"You must be Sera?" She looked me up and down, her gaze lingering on my simple dress. "I'm Patricia, Dex's mother."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Patricia. I'm Seraphina." I politely offered the gift. "This is a little something I brought."

Patricia took the box, examining the packaging. "What brand is this? I've never heard of it."

"It's from a French artisanal chocolate shop, the taste is quite special—"

"Oh, a boutique brand." Her tone carried obvious disappointment. "The packaging is nice enough, but I only eat international brands like Godiva or La Maison du Chocolat."

My face flushed. This chocolate cost $200 a box and required queuing in France, yet she called it a "boutique brand"?

"Mom, Sera's here?" Dex emerged from the living room, giving me a hug. "Come in, sit down."

Following them inside, I became even more certain of my assessment—this family was definitely nouveau riche.

The room was filled with gold decorations, a massive crystal chandelier, and obvious reproductions of famous paintings on the walls. The sofa was shiny gold leather, the coffee table covered with luxury brand boxes like trophies on display.

"Sit, don't be shy." Patricia took the main seat like a queen. "I've been wanting to meet you."

"Thank you." I perched carefully on the sofa's edge.

"Dex told me you've been together three years?" Patricia began her interrogation. "How old are you now?"

"Twenty-five."

"Oh, not so young anymore." She glanced meaningfully at my stomach. "Women's fertility starts declining after twenty-five."

I was stunned. "Excuse me?"

"What I mean is," Patricia said bluntly, "my son's successful now, just raised $15 million—it's time to think about personal matters. When are you getting married? When will you give me a grandchild?"

The question came so suddenly, I was completely unprepared.

"We... haven't specifically discussed..."

"Haven't discussed it?" Patricia frowned. "Three years together and no marriage talk? Then what's the point of this relationship?"

Dex coughed awkwardly beside us. "Mom, don't be so direct..."

"What's wrong with being direct?" Patricia glared at her son. "These girls nowadays—how many are genuine? They're all after men's money. I need to screen for you."

She turned to me, her gaze sharpening. "Sera, what's your job?"

"I'm Dex's project manager."

Patricia pursed her lips. "Sounds like a glorified secretary. How's the pay?"

"It's... decent."

"How much? Specific numbers."

Cornered, I replied: "About $120K annually."

"Only $120K?" Patricia's voice rose an octave. "My son's company is worth over $100 million, and that's what you call income?"

Humiliation washed over me like a tide. $120K wasn't high for Silicon Valley, but it certainly wasn't low either. Moreover, because I loved Dex...

"Mom, income isn't everything..." Dex tried to ease the tension.

"Not important?" Patricia sneered. "Of course not—you'll be spending his money anyway."

She looked at me, her tone becoming more aggressive: "Since you're getting married, let me be clear. After marriage, you must quit and stay home as a full-time wife."

"What?" I couldn't believe it. "Why?"

"Why?" Patricia acted like she'd heard the world's biggest joke. "Women should prioritize their husbands! Look at my neighbor Jennifer—after marrying a senior Google engineer, she became a full-time housewife. Now she has two kids. So happy!"

She grabbed her phone from the coffee table, showing me a photo: "Look, this is our community wives' group. Tuesday afternoon tea every week, everyone brings their children. How wonderful!"

The photo showed several well-dressed women with children in their arms or by their sides, having tea at some upscale club.

"I don't want my daughter-in-law working outside, having people say we have poor family values." Patricia put away her phone.

"But I love my job..." I tried to argue.

"Love it?" Patricia scoffed. "You think you're important? Just a project manager—they're everywhere. My son's success comes entirely from his own hard work!"

That sentence pierced my heart like a thorn.

If she knew how much of my secret help was behind Dex's "self-made" success, would she still say that?

I suppressed the urge to argue back and turned to Dex, hoping he'd defend me.

But he was looking down at his phone, as if he hadn't heard our conversation.

"Dex," I looked directly at him, "do you feel the same way?"

He finally looked up, but his eyes flickered, avoiding my gaze: "Sera, you know I've sacrificed a lot for the company..."

"What do you mean?" My heart began racing.

"I mean," he avoided my eyes, "maybe Mom has a point. Successful men need supportive wives behind them, not women who still work outside."

My world collapsed in that instant.

For three years, how much had I secretly contributed to his career? Every time he faced technical problems, I contacted experts; every time he had cash flow issues, I anonymously invested...

And now, he thought I should quit and stay home?

"See, my son understands." Patricia smiled smugly. "Sera, you need to know your place. With my son's current status, you might not be worthy..."

Before she could finish, silvery laughter suddenly came from outside.

"Sorry to interrupt, am I coming at a bad time?"

A voice came from the doorway, coquettish and obviously showing off.

All three of us turned toward the entrance.

A young woman stood there, wearing an obviously expensive Chanel suit, carrying a huge Hermès bag, radiating wealth from head to toe.

She was beautiful, young, radiant, and most importantly—her entire being proclaimed her wealth.

Patricia's eyes lit up instantly, like she'd spotted a treasure.

And more importantly—in Dex's gaze toward her, I read something I didn't want to acknowledge...

Greed.