Chapter 5

When she reappeared at Belgravia Heights, the nanny was stunned to see her: "What are you doing here?"

Compared to her attitude this morning, which was now domineering and wary, it was clear someone had instructed her to do something. In contrast, Lyra appeared much calmer: "This is my home, why can't I come?"

"Your home? I don't know anything about it." The nanny sneered. "I only recognize the young master and young lady as the masters of this house. Where did you come from, imposter, and dare to claim to be the master of this place?"

As she spoke, the nanny was about to close the door: "Hurry up and leave, or I'll call security."

Lyra reached out and braced herself against the door frame, her tone calm and cold: "Since you can say that, Maddy must have told you quite a bit about me. Has she ever told you that I have a bad temper, violent tendencies, and that I don't know my own strength?"

As soon as she finished speaking, she deliberately raised her hand to scare the nanny.

As expected, the nanny was terrified and immediately turned pale.

Lyra looked at her coldly. She didn't expect her to be so easily frightened. She had only made up a few words, and she was frightened like this. It seemed that Maddy had often spoken ill of her in front of her.

"Open the door. I'm just taking my own things. I'll leave once I'm done."

She wouldn't want to come to this kind of place more often if she had no other choice.

She married Wyatt full of hope, imagining growing old with him, and naturally brought her most important and cherished possessions with her: photo albums, pictures, and all sorts of gifts—all her treasured possessions from childhood to adulthood.

Now that she's planning to leave, she'll naturally take all of this with her.

Lyra and the nanny looked at each other. The nanny hesitated for a moment, but finally opened the door.

After entering the house, Lyra went straight to the second floor.

When she got married, she thought she would live in the master bedroom, so she put all her belongings in the drawers there. But when she opened the door, she found that the layout of the master bedroom had completely changed. The furniture she had carefully selected had been replaced, and even the things she had put in the drawers were gone.

"Where are the things in here?" she asked the nanny behind her, pointing to the drawer. The nanny had been following her since she entered, keeping a close watch on her, as if afraid she would take something away.

"I don't know," the nanny said coldly, her tone dismissive.

"You didn't know?" Lyra sneered. "Fine, then you took it. I'm calling the police right now."

As she spoke, she took out her phone to make a call.

Seeing her stubborn attitude, the nanny had no choice but to lead her to the attic while cursing.

The first thing Lyra noticed upon entering the cramped, poorly ventilated, dark room was the stuffiness and the lingering musty smell. She looked around and realized her belongings were scattered haphazardly, most of them broken, and the few that weren't damaged were covered in a thick layer of dust.

Without even thinking, Lyra knew who did it. She took a deep breath, forced herself to calm down, and began to quickly tidy up her things.

After tidying up, Lyra ran into Zane, who had just woken up, as she came down from the attic. The moment he saw her, he clenched his fist like a fighting rooster and spat at her: "Fat woman, ugly woman, who told you to come to my house?"

Lyra knew the reason why Zane was like this: it was the father's fault if the son was not taught, let alone his parents.

She didn't intend to argue with him, only glancing at him before turning to leave. Unexpectedly, Zane, seeing her silence, assumed she was scared and immediately rushed over, punching and kicking her: "My mother said, like master, like dog. You and your stupid dog are both despicable. I'm going to beat you to death, beat you to death."

It would have been better if he hadn't brought it up, because the moment he did, Lyra's anger flared up instantly.

She simply put the things aside, grabbed Zane's arm with one hand, and slapped his buttocks with the other, settling both old and new scores at once, "slap slap" twice.

"You're so young, and you're not learning anything good. Is it because you don't have anyone to teach you? Well, I'll teach you today."

She used all her strength, slapping him twice. Zane immediately dared not curse anymore and burst into tears.

Upon seeing this, the nanny immediately hugged him tenderly, saying, "Why did you hit someone? When the young master and young lady return, I will definitely tell them and see how they punish you."

"Yes, tell Dad," Zane said smugly again, seeing someone backing him up. "I'm going to tell Dad and have him beat you to death."

"Whatever." Lyra clapped her hands leisurely, picked up her things, and prepared to leave.

As she passed by the living room, she caught a glimpse of a photo hanging on the wall—a family portrait of Wyatt, Maddy, and Zane, the three of them snuggled together, looking truly happy.

She reached out and took the photo down from the wall to examine it closely.

Zane's voice came again: "Put down the photos. You are not worthy to touch my things."

"Really?" Lyra smiled faintly at him, then released her grip. With a "crack," the photo fell to the ground and shattered into pieces. "When you tell your father, remember to include this as well."

She heard Zane scream behind her, but Lyra ignored it, kicked away the glass shards, and stepped outside.

The broken glass on the ground at this moment is like her marriage, like her life right now.

Broken beyond repair, utterly hopeless.

But there's no way around it; some things can't be built without destruction. To be reborn, you have to break them down first.

After leaving Belgravia Heights, Lyra dialed a number—a number she hadn't contacted in three years, whose contact information she had deleted, and whom she thought would never speak to her again.

Unexpectedly, the phone was answered shortly after it rang, but the other party's voice was very cold: "Hello."

"I am Lyra."

"I know, is there something you need?"

"Thea," Lyra's voice was nasal and choked with emotion, "I'm planning to get a divorce."