"Stop–stop this! What are you doing?!"

Eleanor Grant's arrival cut Connor off. I slipped from his grip and fell to the floor, coughing violently, the taste of blood filling my mouth.

She looked at the chaos in front of her and let out a long, heavy sigh before helping me up.

"Sienna… are you alright?"

I forced the words out. "I'm fine."

Her whole body stiffened.

"Sienna… you–you can speak?"

In that instant, she seemed to age more than ten years. Her legs gave way, and tears streamed down her face as she muttered, "It's over… it's all over…"

Connor frowned at her.

"Mom, what's wrong with you?"

Her voice sounded distant, worn.

"Back when the family was in crisis, your father paid a heavy price to have a reading done. It said that if you married a mute woman whose birth chart matched yours, the family's fortune would be preserved.

"But the moment she speaks… the family will fall apart."

The reading was not wrong.

It just had not foreseen that I was not truly mute–I stayed silent because my words brought misfortune.

Connor scoffed.

"That's superstition. Tricks to fool old people. Everything this family has now–we built it ourselves. What does it have to do with her?

"If she's so capable, why couldn't she even raise her own son properly?"

Eleanor hesitated.

She had doubted it too. But ever since Connor married Sienna, the family's fortunes had improved rapidly. And not long after the reading, his father had died.

Part of her believed. Part of her did not dare to.

Then she seemed to remember something.

"Where's Jamie? Why haven't I seen him?"

Connor let out a cold laugh.

"She couldn't raise him properly, so I sent him to a training facility to learn discipline."

I looked at her and spoke hoarsely.

"Jamie is dead."

Connor's patience snapped.

"How many times are you going to repeat that lie? What, are you going to say that pile of rotten flesh in the yard is him again?"

He raised his voice.

"Take that thing outside and burn it. Turn it to ash and mix it into the soil for the roses."

I watched as what remained of my son was thrown into the fire.

This time, I did not struggle.

He was already gone. That body meant nothing anymore.

Better to let it burn clean… and let him leave this world.

Maybe in his next life, he would be born into a kinder family. Live a quiet, happy life.

Eleanor looked at Connor, then at me. She did not know who to believe.

In the end, she turned and hurried out, heading for the training facility herself.

The moment she left, Camille's voice broke through her tears.

"My poor child… he didn't even get to see the world. He would've grown up to be Jamie's age… calling us Mom and Dad…

"Connor… will we still have children?"

Connor kissed her forehead, his voice soft.

"We will. Of course we will."

Then he looked at me–his gaze colder than before.

"Sienna. I let you off just now because my mother was here. But you're not getting away without paying for this.

"Since Camille lost her child… the one in your belly will take its place."

He stepped toward me.

I scrambled backward in panic until I hit the wall.

My voice trembled.

"Connor… you already killed Jamie. Are you going to kill another one of your children? He's yours too!"

Connor hesitated.

Camille saw it immediately.

"Connor… you don't have to do this for me," she said softly. "My position in this family is already awkward. My child could never compare to hers. Even if you say my child will inherit everything… no one truly believes it."

Connor's expression hardened.

"In this house, my word is law. What I say, everyone believes. Sienna isn't worth a single strand of your hair."

The hesitation vanished.

He raised his foot–and brought it down hard on my stomach.

I struggled through the pain, but I could not move him at all. Blood spread beneath me, staining the carpet.

When I felt the child leave my body, I looked at him and forced out my last words.

"Connor… you'll never have another child in your life. You'll die alone. You'll be torn apart by dogs."

Only after I lost consciousness did he stop. Before stepping away, he said coldly, "I had Jamie stay at the dog training facility for another month. Every extra day he's there is because of you."

When I woke up, I was in bed. Someone had already changed my clothes.

The housekeeper sat beside me, wiping her tears. When she saw I was awake, she started talking, her voice trembling.

"Mr. Grant… how could he be so heartless? For that woman, he didn't even care if you lived or died.

"You two used to be so close. He even learned sign language for you. He always came home early just to spend time with you and Jamie. We all saw it. He used to be such a good man.

"But ever since his older brother passed… and that woman moved in… how did he become like this?"

She could not understand it. How someone could change so completely.

How a person could discard those they once cherished like they meant nothing?

I patted her hand, saying nothing more.

"The Grant family is about to fall apart. You should start looking for another place."

I went to Jamie's room.

I folded his clothes one by one. Packed his favorite toys carefully into a box.

Each item brought back his soft, childish voice calling me 'Mom.'

The tears would not stop. But there were no small hands left to wipe them away.

In the garden, I burned everything I had packed for him, speaking to him the entire time.

He had never heard my voice while he was alive. I did not know if he would recognize it now.

At some point, Connor came up behind me.

"You really are going all out with this act," he said coldly. "If you want a child that badly, I can give you another one. Stop putting on this disgusting show."

He grabbed me roughly and dragged me back into the bedroom, throwing me onto the bed.

His breath fell against my neck, making me sick. My whole body trembled.

I struggled desperately–striking at him, clawing at him–but he pinned my wrists down.

In the struggle, the wedding photo on the wall fell and hit him.

He winced and sat up, flipping the frame over. When he saw the photo–of us holding each other, smiling–he froze.

Something in it seemed to pull him away.

He slowly got off the bed, walked to the couch, and lit a cigarette.

I gathered my torn clothes and took out the divorce papers I had prepared long ago from the bedside drawer.

I placed them in front of him.

"Connor. Sign them. Let's divorce."

He looked up at me.

"Sienna, don't try to threaten me with divorce. Can you really leave me? You've heard the story of the boy who cried wolf. Use the same trick too many times, and it stops working.

"If I really sign this today, and you come crying back tomorrow, it'll be too late."

I ignored the mockery.

"Divorce me, and you can marry Camille properly. Whether I regret it tomorrow is my problem.

"Or what–don't you actually want a divorce? Or are you too afraid to sign?"

He let out a cold laugh.

"Who do you think you are? The Grant family has everything. If my family hadn't forced me to marry you back then, do you think you'd ever have married into this house?

"You've been in my bed for years. After you leave me, who would even want you?"

I did not respond. I only repeated, "Then sign it."

The mockery faded from his face.

He sat there, staring at me without moving.