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The moment Ivy went to the restroom, I unlocked my phone and pulled up the forum post.
The original poster had just updated it a few minutes ago:
“Got rejected on the sleepover plan. I think the sister is getting a little suspicious, but I played the victim carc perfectly, and she’s a total softie. I’ll find another chance soon!”
My heart plummeted into an icy abyss.
1 kept scrolling and saw several new comments.
After the update, many users were even more furious:
“OP, are you psychotic? She’s paying for your education, and you’re plotting to steal her husband?”
“I’m actually sick to my stomach. This isn’t just an ungrateful leech; this is a black widow.”
“Please, God, let the sister see this post! This kind of backstabbing monster deserves to burn!”
But the original poster showed no remorse. Instead, she replied with smug satisfaction:
“What do you people know? Sponsoring me is just her way of feeling superior!”
“Why does she get to have everything just by being born? While I have to claw my way up for everything? Her husband is incredible, and she doesn’t deserve him!”
“I’m going to take away the most important thing in her life, so she can finally know what it feels like to lose something! Watching her suffer will make me happy!”
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“Just you wait. It’s only a matter of time before her husband sees how amazing I am. These rich, goody-two shoes housewife types are so boring.”
The more I read, the colder I felt, my fingers trembling uncontrollably.
At that moment, I was one hundred percent certain. The person who wrote this was Ivy.
Just as she’d said, I came from a wealthy family and had lived a charmed life.
Sponsoring her was a genuine desire to help a hardworking kid change her fate.
It was because of this unconditional kindness that I couldn’t comprehend her darkness, her resentment, he
elaborate scheme to destroy my family.
This sudden betrayal was a knife to my heart, leaving me cold and aching.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm.
Hearing the toilet flush, I quickly exited the page, locked my phone, and placed it face down on the table struggling to compose my expression.
I made a decision in an instant.
I had to not only crush her ambitions but also re-evaluate this entire “sponsorship” relationship.
Just as I steadied myself, Ivy returned from the restroom.
She sat back down, her face once again adorned with that pure, innocent smile, as if the person spewing
venom online wasn’t her.
“Mary,” she said sweetly, her eyes darting toward my husband. “Marcus just agreed to help me with my cour sework this weekend! Right here, in the study! I might be bothering you again!”
She looked at me expectantly, waiting for my enthusiastic approval.
But now, her smile and her words sounded like a calculated provocation.
Suppressing the waves of nausea and rage, I spoke in a calm voice.
“Ivy, I’m afraid this weekend won’t work.”
“What?” The smile on Ivy’s face froze, her voice involuntarily rising.
She quickly realized her mistake and softened her tone. “W-why not, Mary? It’ll just be for a little while, I won’ t take up too much time…”
I picked up a napkin and dabbed my lips, avoiding her seemingly innocent gaze. “It’s nothing. Marcus and I just have other plans this weekend. It’s not a good time.”
At my words, the smile vanished completely from Ivy’s face, replaced by a look of aggrieved disappointment and simmering resentment.
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“But… Marcus already promised me…” she mumbled, her tone dripping with complaint. “Mary, why are you… suddenly changing your mind…”
In the past, whenever she wore that expression, I would soften and try to accommodate her requests. After all, she was the “little sister” I had cared for for four years.
But now, seeing her true colors, I realized what kind of viper I had been nurturing with my kindness.
My heart was ice. Without looking at her, I turned to my husband. “Didn’t we have plans to go to that ar exhibition this weekend? The tickets were so hard to get.”
Marcus paused for a beat, then immediately caught on, nodding in agreement. “Right, we do. Ivy, we can tall about your coursework some other time.”
Seeing this, Ivy’s expression grew even more sullen. She opened her mouth to argue.
I didn’t give her the chance. I picked up my bag and stood. “It’s getting late, and you have classes tomorrow don’t you? You should head back to school and get some rest. The driver is waiting downstairs to take you
back.”
Without a second glance at her instantly pale face, I linked my arm through my husband’s. My tone was ligh
but firm. “We’ll see Ivy out.”
It wasn’t until I was home that I opened the forum post again. A notification popped up:
“A thread you are following has a new reply…”
Ivy had updated it again.
