Chapter 72: The Devs Flip the Blame

“We’ll go with you,” Julian said, a faint smile softening his voice. “I’m your son-in-law. When something like this happens, a son doesn’t stand aside.”

Cora glanced back at him, gratitude flashing through her eyes. They were a contract couple, and he owed her nothing—yet he kept stepping in as if it were his problem too. She filed that away in her heart.

“Mom, let’s go home,” Cora said.

“Alright.” Tears shone in Zoy’s eyes. In the moment of betrayal, at least she wasn’t alone.

Julian drove himself, checking the rearview often—Cora’s face set and thinking, Zoy’s expression stunned and far away. Maybe she still didn’t know how to face the man who’d betrayed her.

Cora looked up and found Julian watching. He tipped his chin at the curb.

“Mom, I’ll grab water. Jule, pull over?”

He nodded.

Outside the car, Cora kept her voice low. “What is it?”

“Austin found a place in town last night,” Julian said, just for her. “Good location, decent environment. It’s already in your name. If it comes to that and your mom won’t leave the area, she’ll have a home to move into.”

Cora stared at him. In the space of hours, he’d planned for her mother’s next life—something even she, the daughter, hadn’t thought through.

“She… might not divorce,” Cora whispered.

Julian’s mouth curved. “Do you really think this is about whether she agrees? Your father never came back to the hotel. He went home early. We both know why.”

Cora blanched. “You mean he rushed back to plan the divorce with them? That’s—God—that’s vile.”

“Watch,” Julian murmured. “It’s better to be ready.”

They reached the town.

“Do you want us to come in?” Cora unbuckled and turned.

“No. I need to hear it from him first.” Zoy’s tone was steadying into steel. “I’m going to ask Gary a question: does he deserve me?”

Cora’s worry flared, but she nodded. “We’ll wait close by. If Grandma so much as raises her voice—call me.”

Zoy barely heard her. She was already crossing the yard, mind a storm with one word pulsing through it: why.

“Breathe,” Julian said, closing a hand over Cora’s. She was so focused on her mother she didn’t even notice she didn’t pull away. That alone put a ghost of a smile in his eyes.

It didn’t last.

The moment Zoy stepped through the Dev gate, a bundled sack came flying out of the courtyard and smacked her in the face.

She reeled, stunned.

Ravi’s voice thundered from inside. “Shameless thing! Get out of the Dev house! You’ve eaten our food for over twenty years and never produced a child! Now you’re out all night like some young hussy—sleeping with a man God knows where!”

Zoy froze. She’d been with her daughter and son-in-law all night. Why this filth?

Cora and Julian heard it from the car.

“So that’s what your father and grandmother decided,” Julian said evenly. “Don’t wait for her to come home and accuse him—strike first, flip the blame, leave her scrambling to defend herself. Your grandmother’s not stupid. Misdirect, distract, and drown the room—that’s her game.”

Cora let out a short, bitter laugh. “That’s how she’s kept my mom under her thumb for decades.”

More things sailed over the wall—clothes, shoes, bedding—thudding into Zoy’s shoulders and face. Neighbors poured out to gawk.

Ravi suddenly dropped to the ground and slapped her thighs, wailing, “Sin! The Devs have sinned! Look at the daughter-in-law I married—prim on the surface, but out all night! She’s shaming our family!”

Cora jolted forward, fury spiking.

“Wait,” Julian said, cool as ice. “If they dig the hole deeper, the fall hurts more.”

Right on cue, Gary strode out, pointing at his wife. “I told you to come home and you wouldn’t. Said you had business in town—then got seen with another man, didn’t you? Zoy, all these years—I was wrong about you!”

It had been years since anyone called her by her given name. In the Dev house it was always “the eldest daughter-in-law” or a barked “hey.”

Zoy trembled head to toe. She’d come home ready to confront him; instead, husband and mother-in-law stood shoulder to shoulder, painting her filthy in front of the village. They knew her too well—her quiet, her pride. They poured and poured, and she couldn’t even force words past the shaking.

“Hold,” Julian murmured, hand firm over Cora’s. “The harder they smear her, the cleaner the break. You said you wanted her free? This is how it happens.”

A hard light clicked on in Cora’s eyes. He was right. The more they humiliated her mother, the faster the last thread to the Devs would snap.

It worked. Under Ravi and Gary’s jeers—and the snide echoes from the uncle and aunt who’d just taken Julian’s money—Zoy’s gaze went cold. Betrayal had gutted her, but she hadn’t walked in intending to end it. If Gary had bowed his head, she might have tried to carry on. This was her home.

But she hadn’t managed a single word before they branded her a whore and a liar. Reputation mattered to her—more than anything. And they’d shattered it themselves.

Finally, Zoy lifted her chin. Her voice was calm. “Fine. Since you want the truth, let’s air all of it. Gary, you keep shouting I put horns on you. Do you have proof? Because last night, the woman you keep outside nearly attacked me and Cora. Many people saw it. You want evidence? I happen to have some.”

She drew a folded sheet from her bag and held it up. The mistress’s signed confession—sealed with fingerprints, detail after sordid detail.

Neighbors leaned in; one read it aloud, voice rising with each line.

Ravi and Gary went white. They had never imagined quiet Zoy would be holding a blade.

When the reading ended, the neighbors’ faces changed. One of the older women couldn’t hold back. “Zoy’s kept this family together for over twenty years. So what if she couldn’t have children? The Dev house stood because of her. And now your son messes up and you throw the blame on her? Ravi, have you no shame?”