Chapter 1

"Me or your daughter. Choose."

My mother is a woman who constantly competes with other females. Before marriage, she competed with every woman she met. After marriage, she started competing with me.

Ever since I was in middle school, she loved playing this game of "who looks like the mother and who looks like the daughter."

Even worse, she loved pretending to be in danger just to force my dad to choose between her and me.

Every time my dad chose her over me, she would look incredibly smug.

I got used to her constantly putting me down and telling me I was nothing compared to her.

But when she tried to seduce my fiancé just to prove she was more attractive than me, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Chloe, look! People online are so funny. They're saying in our photo, you look like the mother and I look like the daughter!"

I watched my mother, Vanessa, lounging on the sofa, scrolling through her phone.

She laughed delicately and held the screen in front of my face. "Look at this. Aren't these comments hilarious?"

I looked at her post. It was a photo of us.

I looked absolutely exhausted after working five days of overtime in a row. My skin was pale and dry.

Meanwhile, Vanessa had on flawless makeup. She looked radiant, vibrant, and perfectly put-together.

Ever since she married my dad, Richard, she had quit her job to be a stay-at-home wife.

Of course, my dad never let his "precious little princess" do any chores. Ever since I could remember, I was the one doing all the housework.

Looking at the photo, I forced a tired smile. "As long as you find it funny."

But Vanessa wasn't satisfied with my reaction.

She pouted like a teenage girl.

"Oh, Chloe, you're always so serious. Men don't like women with that kind of personality."

With that, she leaned languidly into my dad's chest, her body curving like a lazy cat.

"Richard, honey, who do you think is prettier? Me or Chloe?"

Dad gently tapped the tip of her nose, his eyes full of adoration.

"Silly girl. You, of course."

Vanessa pouted again, looking both shy and playful.

"Are you lying to me? Chloe is much younger than me."

"In my eyes, you are the youngest and the most beautiful," Dad coaxed softly. Vanessa’s expression grew even more smug.

She cast a sideways glance at me. That single look was enough for me to see the raw triumph in her eyes.

"What if we were the same age twenty years ago, and we both met you at the same time? Who would you choose to marry?"

Hearing this, I numbly set down my glass of water, turned around, and went back to my room.

I had heard this exact question hundreds of times growing up. And every single time, my dad would patiently tell her that he would always choose her.