My name is Angeline. Five years ago, I lived through the darkest night of my life. I still remember every raindrop and the cold sting of the wind that night. Gerald—my husband—threw me out while I was five months pregnant with our twins.
“You’re a worthless wife! You’re already poor, and you’re ugly too! You don’t fit my ambitions!” he shouted as he hurled my clothes into the mud. “I’ve found a woman who can give me the wealth and connections I need—Beatrice, the senator’s daughter! So get out!”
I begged him then. I knelt at his feet.
“Gerald, please have mercy. I’m pregnant. Where will your children and I go?”
But he just shoved me aside and slammed the gate of the mansion we once dreamed of together—a dream only he got to enjoy.
For five years, my life was both hell and heaven. I slept beside a roadside eatery. I walked barefoot just to save money. I worked as a dishwasher in the mornings and a call center agent at night. I barely slept just to keep Bella and Ella alive. They became my strength. When I gave birth to them, I made a promise to myself: No one will ever oppress your mother again.
Through hard work, prayer, and a business investor who saw my potential in real estate, the wheel of fortune slowly turned. From being an agent, I became a developer. Angeline Properties grew into one of the largest companies in Asia.
One day, while I was in my penthouse office, I received a gold envelope—an invitation. From Gerald.
“Angeline, you are invited to my wedding with Beatrice. Grand Ballroom, Shangri-La. Come and see what you wasted. Don’t worry, there will be food for you at the drivers’ table.”
He wanted to humiliate me. He wanted to prove that even now, I was still a “starving nobody.” I smiled. He didn’t know that the land he once stepped on was now owned by the woman who owned the land his success stood on.
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