Angel's Mistake: Daddy, That's Mommy!

In the fickle warmth of early March, Nellie Sutton raced home, a smile blooming across her pretty face after disembarking the plane.

She had been on a three-month field trip wrestling with a stubborn virus, but had wrapped up early to spring a surprise on her husband.

She imagined Morris Leyton's shock at seeing her—a thought that stirred a sweet sensation within her.

Hand resting on her flat belly, her eyes sparkled with the promise of plans to have a baby.

Had her mentor not persistently asked, Nellie wouldn’t have considered the trip.

Years of domestic life had dulled her once sharp skills—a fleeting shadow of melancholy crossed her mind, but her smile quickly chased it away.

As the garden villa came into view, the thought of their impending wedding filled her with irrepressible joy.

Their five-year romance was about to bear fruit.

“Honey,” her voice, lilting and lovely, echoed unanswered through the eerily quiet villa. No housekeeper in sight.

Confused, Nellie’s delicate brows knitted together as she ascended with her suitcase.

The crisp click of her high heels seemed to tap directly on her heart, stirring an unsettling premonition.

She reached for the door to their bedroom, only to hear the coarse breaths of a man and the soft moans of a woman inside. Her smile froze; her fingers stiffened in mid-air.

Clutching her sleek black suitcase, Nellie stood frozen, her expertly made-up face draining of color. Fear flickered through her bright, cat-like eyes.

“Brother-in-law, ease up... stop... you know how bad I want it.”

“Naughty girl, I'll make you scream now.”

Her exquisite red nails dug into her palms, blood trickling between her fingers, yet she seemed numb to the pain. She staggered back, biting her lip until it tasted of iron.

Shaking her head in disbelief.

No, it couldn’t be. Morris would never betray her.

He had promised. As long as she obeyed, their wedding would be immediate. This was the bedroom she had lovingly decorated for their wedding. How could Morris betray her? Impossible.

Despite her denial, the escalating sounds inside spoke volumes.

Trembling violently, her well-manicured nails snapped off; waves of suffocation washed over her.

Blinded by rage, she kicked the bedroom door open.

The entwined couple inside, startled by the noise, grabbed a bedsheet to cover their naked bodies.

The room was thick with the scent of their lovemaking, a testament to the betrayal.

Seeing the woman in her husband's arms, Nellie’s pupils shrank; her body swayed as her heart was slashed open, bleeding profusely.

The naked woman was none other than her own half-sister, Claire Sutton, whom she had always trusted and cherished as family.

Had she not ended her research early and rushed back, she would never have caught this heart-wrenching scene.

Her husband and her sister, entangled in the bed she had made for her wedding night.

Oh, the cruel irony. Overcome by a rush of emotions, Nellie slapped Claire hard.

Claire's pale, delicate skin immediately reddened and swelled as she covered her face, looking up tearfully, "Sis, listen to me, it’s not what you think, it was me... it was me..."

Her voice choked with sobs, as if she had suffered a great injustice.

Beside her, Morris casually dressed, wrapping his arms around Claire, soothing her with a gentle, affectionate voice, "Well, no more tears, baby. I’ve always loved you. If she were not somewhat useful, why would I even bother with her? She’s nothing but a dog I keep around the house."

“It’s always been you,” the phrase haunted Nellie like an unshakable hex.

Her gaze was piercing as she managed a hoarse, trembling voice, “What do you mean?”

They had shared a life for five years, marriage certificate and all. She had dedicated herself tirelessly to the Leyton family, safeguarding what she believed was a sacred union, only to be regarded as little more than a loyal dog in his eyes.

Had it not been for her investment, the Leyton enterprise would never have achieved such grandeur.

To keep his mind at ease, she had abandoned her favored career, spending her days tending to his parents.

All for what? To be nothing but a stepping stone, a mere tool in the Leyton household.

How ridiculous.

Pain seared through her heart, her body felt drenched in an invisible bloodbath, yet her eyes burned with a fierce, icy resolve as if she was poised to shred someone to pieces.

“Just an old hag, that’s all you are. Your face revolts me every day. If not for the shares in your grip, why would I ever endure you? It’s Claire I’ve always desired,” he said, his handsome features twisted with impatience and revulsion, as if she were mere refuse beneath his gaze.

Morris Leyton’s contemptuous glare tore through Nellie’s soul. Her lips quivered as she confronted the man who now seemed nothing but a stranger, her voice a broken whisper, “Why… why her?

Was all his tenderness just a charade, a ploy to swipe my shares and run off with Claire?

Suddenly, she felt as if all the strength had been vacuumed from her body, her heartache radiating to her extremities, crushing her bones mercilessly.

Claire hurriedly wrapped herself in a sheet, covering her nudity as she rushed to explain, “Sis, you have to understand, it was the alcohol speaking, he didn’t mean to—”

“So, bedding him was an accident? You shameless?” Nellie’s eyes turned frosty, seeing her sister clearly for the first time.

Years of perceived obedience and understanding were nothing but a facade; beneath that docile exterior lurked a venomous snake, biding its time.

In that instant, all the suspicions coalesced. Why had her sister-in-law shown such undue concern for her husband, and why was he so indulgent with her?

She had once believed Morris's kindness was born from love, a notion that once sweetened her days. Little did she know, they had been conspiring in the shadows all along.

Foolish, utterly foolish to have been blinded so thoroughly.

As she turned away from Morris, Claire's face was alight with smug provocation, mocking Nellie’s fall from grace and her naiveté.

A metallic taste of blood filled her mouth as Nellie lunged forward, her hands wrapping around Claire’s throat, her eyes ablaze with fury, “Claire, you…”

Claire hadn’t anticipated such a ferocious response; panic flared in her eyes as she choked, gasping for air, “Cough... cough, Morris, save... save me.”

But before Nellie could tighten her grip, a violent gust intercepted.

With a resonant “snap,” Nellie was flung to the ground, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

A voice cold and merciless as a demon’s echoed overhead, chilling as if from the depths of hell itself, “Get out, you harlot. How could you stand here? A mere seductress who, five years ago, was toyed with by countless men. You're far from a virgin, and yet I was expected to remain devoted to you? You disgust me.”

Nellie trembled upon hearing these words.

The world outside may bask in relentless sunshine, but she felt as if she’d plunged into an icy abyss.

Five years ago... all memories of that year had been erased; she couldn’t remember what had occurred.

Yet upon awakening back then, she found herself sullied and bloodied—a mystery Morris had purportedly saved her from.

He had claimed he didn't mind then, so why now wield that past as a weapon to degrade her?

Morris's eyes, filled with scorn, seemed to pierce her, “Regardless, you were already debased by others. What harm is there if I exploited that? The divorce papers are ready, and I will marry Claire. Your title as Mrs. Leyton was over long before today. If it weren’t for my support, you would be less than a street dog…”

Nellie’s declaration cut through the tension like a blade. Before she could even finish her sentence, a sharp slap silenced her. Eyes burning with rage, she stood her ground. “Divorce? Fine. But I’m taking thirty percent of Leyton Group’s shares with me.”

“That was my creation. Why should I hand it over to those scoundrels?”

“Divorce is on the table, but those shares are mine.”

Claire’s panic surged when she realized Nellie intended to claim the shares. Ignoring the sting of Morris Leyton’s recent slap, she hastily interjected, “Sister, you gave those to your husband. How can you take them back now? It was all a misunderstanding. I admit, I have feelings for him, but if you still love him, I’ll back off. I’ll step aside for you two.”

Morris had promised the shares to Claire once Nellie was out of the picture. The deal was nearly sealed—how could Claire not be desperate?

Nellie scoffed at them, her laughter cold and mocking. “If you want that excuse of a man, he’s yours. Trash suits trash. Just stop dragging others down. We can divorce, but my assets remain mine.”

With her stance clear, Nellie turned and walked away, her silhouette decisive against the setting sun.

Claire watched her sister's retreating figure, her eyes gleaming with a victorious gleam.

“You’re still no match for me, Nellie.”

After years overshadowed by Nellie’s superiority, Claire was tired of being second best.

She vowed to prove to everyone that she was the true Sutton heiress.

“Nellie Sutton, nothing more than a high society castoff.”

Claire’s heart twisted with plots as she maintained her façade of innocence. “Morris, what do we do now? I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault. I just couldn’t control myself…”

Seeing Claire’s distressed look, Morris Leyton felt a twinge of pity. He pulled her close, comforting her. “Don’t cry, cuttie. She won’t get a single share.”

His smirk deepened, a dark gleam in his eyes revealing his calculated thoughts.

Bag in hand, Nellie stormed off, heading back to the Sutton estate. In a moment of blind support, she had transferred all her property titles to Morris.

She had been passionate then, but now she realized it was all part of his plan.

The irony made her scoff at her own naivety.

Rushed and without a charged phone, penniless Nellie found herself unable to even hail a cab. Wandering aimlessly, her gaze empty and lost.

Until nearby, childish taunts snapped her back to reality.

“Look, look, he’s just an autistic kid, can’t even talk.”

“My mom says autistics are insane. We should stay away, it might be contagious.”

“My mom says she’s an orphaned brat, and her dad is a ghoul, the kind that eats people.”

“Get out, crazy! We hate crazies here; you’re not welcome.”

Nellie’s gaze fixed on a group of children surrounding a little girl in a pink princess dress, looking like a porcelain doll from a shop window, her large, grape-like eyes clear and her lips pressed tightly together in confusion.

In that moment, Nellie’s heart clenched, memories of her own past bullying flashing before her eyes.

Without a second thought, she dropped her suitcase and approached. “Hey, you shouldn’t talk to a little friend like that. What would your teacher say? This isn’t how we treat others.”

As the children turned, their brash confidence, no doubt spoiled at home, was evident. Their arrogance unabated.

“Hmph, she’s just an orphaned brat, and her dad’s a monster—a man-eating monster.”

“You’re not her mom, what’s it to you?”

“I told you, stay away from him. His dad’s a man-eater.”

Their careless words, each more hurtful than the last, left the little girl unaffected, but Nellie’s heart ached with silent pain.

Bending down to scoop up the child, Nellie’s face was a mask of stern warning as she declared, “Who dared call him a bastard? I’m his mother. You will never speak of my baby that way again. Understand? If I hear any of you doing so, your teachers and parents will hear from me.”

In her arms, the little bundle gazed up with newfound brightness, his eyes sharp and focused.

The children around them traded nervous looks, the thought of being reported to their teachers and parents scattering them like leaves in the wind.

Nellie watched them disperse with a hint of amusement. Despite their tender ages, these kids were remarkably adept at reading the room.

She lowered her gaze to the silent figure in her embrace, her voice melting into a tender whisper, “Little one, don’t wander off like that again. Daddy will be here soon and he’d be worried sick if he couldn’t find you.”

They were barely a hundred meters away from the preschool, and it seemed the little girl had ventured out on her own.

A graduate of Mapleton College’s Medical Department, under a mentor renowned nationwide, Nellie could tell the child showed signs of mild autism.

It was unclear how her family was managing it, as it's quite rare for such a young child to exhibit this condition.

Holding the girl close, feeling her tense up, Nellie’s smile was gentle, “Sweetheart, there’s no need to be scared. Do you need me to take you back to your teacher? Just remember, no running off next time.”

Naomi Sutton looked up at the kind face above her, feeling an inexplicable sense of familiarity. Her eyes, a mirror image of Nellie’s, curved in a smile, and she rubbed her cheek against Nellie’s, her voice soft and childlike, “Mommy, I...”

Her words were cut off by a deep, authoritative voice nearby, “Miss, the master has sent me to pick you up.”

Nellie turned to see a middle-aged man in a crisp black uniform. She didn’t immediately hand over the child but leaned down to whisper, “Baby, do you know him?”