When Sinclair’s marriage to Persephone Azalean was arranged, Mayumi did not fight, she waited. She understood that in the world of dynasties and fortunes, men like Sinclair operated under constraints she could exploit. And so, while Persephone bore twins, Mayumi’s plan advanced quietly, invisibly. She seduced Sinclair when opportunity allowed, her warmth and charm a carefully calibrated trap, and she succeeded, like Persephone, in becoming pregnant with his child.

Even as she navigated the dangerous, gilded halls of the Kornblume estate, Mayumi remained cautious. Every glance she gave, every word she spoke, was measured. She was aware of the surveillance of servants, the whispers of guards, the cold, calculating eyes of Persephone. She moved like a shadow, graceful and unnoticed until she chose otherwise.

Months later, her secret was discovered. Persephone’s wrath was swift, cruel, and efficient. Mayumi was cast out, unbeknownst to Sinclair, thrown onto the streets with nothing but the clothes on her back and the child growing inside her. Yet even in her exile, she did not panic. She had a plan. Vulnerability, she knew, could be a weapon. She allowed herself to appear helpless, impoverished, a single mother in a world that would instinctively pity and underestimate her.

In her mind, she played out every possible reaction, every scenario in which Sinclair would search for her. She allowed him to believe he might have lost her, that she might be gone forever. And while he searched, unaware that she was pregnant, she worked to secure her own survival and the future of her child.

Her days were a delicate balance. She found refuge in a small eatery, working tirelessly to provide for herself and, eventually, for Sean, the child she bore in poverty yet with a mother’s fierce devotion. The world treated her harshly, but she met cruelty with calculated warmth. Every smile to a passerby, every polite gesture to a harsh employer, was part of the strategy: kindness disarms, charm entices, vulnerability draws attention.

When Sean was born, he was everything to her, a living symbol of her long game. She named him carefully, envisioning a future where he would be safe, where she could manipulate circumstances to protect him and, at the same time, leverage Sinclair. His features reflected both her cunning and his power: dark hair, a striking gaze that mirrored his father’s teal eyes.

Sinclair, meanwhile, remained unaware of her location. She deliberately left clues, soft hints, never enough for him to succeed too quickly, letting him chase her while she solidified her position. Every encounter, every whisper, every silent message she left was a calculated move.

Then the day came when he found her.

Sinclair arrived at a decrepit, run-down building where Mayumi had carved a fragile home for herself and Sean. The paint was peeling, the walls cracked, the floors uneven. But it was hers, and it symbolized everything she wanted Sinclair to see: she could survive, she could thrive, she could do without him, and yet, here she was, ready to reintroduce herself.

He entered the room, his presence cold, commanding, yet undeniably powerful. Sean, sensing the authority of his father, clung to his mother instinctively.

“Mayumi,” Sinclair said, his voice low, measured, but with a spark of something she recognized, concern, or perhaps frustration.

“Sinclair,” she replied, her voice sweet, calm, almost disarming. She held Sean close, letting the child’s curious gaze meet his father’s. “I want you to meet someone. This is Sean. He is… yours.”

The words struck like thunder. Sinclair stepped closer, his breath shallow. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She smiled faintly. “Would it have changed anything? You’re married, you have children with your wife.”

“I would’ve taken care of you,” he insisted.

“I know,” she said softly, brushing her thumb against Sean’s hair. “But I couldn’t let you ruin your reputation for me.”

He frowned, kneeling beside her. “You can’t stay here. This place... it’s not fit for you or the boy.”

“I’m not interested in your money, Sinclair,” she replied gently. “We’re fine here.”

He studied her, suspicion flickering in his eyes. “Money? You think that’s all I offer? What exactly are you planning, Mayumi?”

Mayumi didn’t answer. Their eyes locked. Her calm gaze hid something sharp beneath the softness. Sinclair sighed. “Just come back with me.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I’ll wait.”

Her lips curved. 

When he finally left, Mayumi lingered by the window, watching his car disappear into the night. Her serene smile slowly faded into something colder, calculated.

She gazed down at her sleeping son, her expression soft but her voice edged with quiet resolve.

“Be patient, my dear little Sean,” she whispered. “We have to endure a little suffering first, but it will be worth it soon.” Her fingers brushed his tiny hand as a faint smile curved her lips. “I’ll make sure your father can never let us go… and that he will one day recognize you, Sean Kornblume, as his rightful heir.”