"Choose your wife, or the lady next to her, Edward, you only have one chance."

Edward stood opposite us, glaring at the kidnapper with rage.

Seeing the apology in his eyes as he looked at me, my already bloodless face turned even paler.

The kidnapper clutched us tightly, like holding the last shield, immobilizing us.

Beside me, Grace whimpered softly, appearing pitiful, yet her body was clean without a single scratch.

"Edward, you must protect her... she is your wife, I don't mind dying here, as long as you will be happy."

Her tears fell like beads, contrasting with me, who was too tortured to even speak.

I looked at Edward, hoping he would remember our five years of marriage.

The kidnapper held two knives to our throats.

"I choose Grace! Don't hurt her!"

Sadly, the pain and apology in Edward's eyes did not waver his voice, only showing his urgency to save Grace.

I tried to smile with my cracked lips, a bitter laugh, but my throat, raw from two days of screaming, made no sound.

I didn't understand.

If he loved someone else, why did he keep me bound for five years?

The wounds on my body were still bleeding, but I could no longer feel the pain.

The knife was getting closer, I closed my eyes, waiting for death.

"Bang!"

The expected pain shifted.

I turned my head to see my arm pierced by the bullet and the kidnapper falling behind me, looking at Edward in disbelief.

The shot was fired by the person next to him, who must have asked for his consent before firing.

Grace and I were both in front of the kidnapper, with Grace even closer to the kidnapper's heart, yet the bullet hit me.

Clearly, he chose to protect Grace once again.

Blood gushed from the wound, and I uncontrollably fell.

Seeing this, Edward immediately wanted to catch me, but was instead embraced by the crying Grace.

"I was so scared, Edward, I thought I would never see you again."

My consciousness faded, and the last thing I saw was the medical staff surrounding me.

My husband stood five meters away, comforting another person.

When I opened my eyes again, I was acutely aware that my left arm was immobile.

My entire body was wrapped in bandages, a stark testament to the horrific abuse I had endured.

But that wasn't what mattered—what mattered was that I couldn't control my left arm anymore.

The realization hit me like a bucket of ice water, chilling me to the core, from the inside out.

Edward, seeing me awake, joyfully called out my name: "Honey? You're awake! How do you feel?"

I looked at him, my voice as cold as ice. "What happened to my arm?"

Edward paused, his expression shifting uncomfortably as he looked away, towards the vase beside me. "This flower has been here for a while; let me get you a new one. Are you hungry..."

"Enough!" I shouted, my voice still hoarse and far from fully recovered.

"Tell me, what happened to my arm?"

He placed the vase back and gently held my hand. "Don't worry. This is only temporary. I will find the best doctors and medical resources for you. You will get better, I promise. Please don't be sad, okay?"

How could I not be sad?

That was a part of me!

I stared at Edward, my tears already dried up, leaving only endless desolation and despair in my heart.

"Why? When it would have been easier to kill the kidnapper near Grace, and given the distance between us, why not kill him through the middle? Why did it have to go through my arm!"

Edward was silent for a few seconds, his voice tinged with guilt. "Shooting through the middle was risky, I was thinking of playing it safe..."

"Grace's safety?"

I looked at him in disbelief.

He couldn't meet my gaze, replying softly, "Grace isn't well, she can't withstand any harm..."

Just to avoid hurting Grace, he chose to sacrifice me directly?

For the first time, I felt that this man, with whom I had shared a bed for five years, was such a stranger.

My heart sank.

I leaned against the bed, drained of all strength.

Suddenly, I thought of the kidnapper. "What about the man who kidnapped us? He was shot in the right chest; he shouldn't have died instantly, right?"

I was already used to my husband's indifference, and I had lost all desire to question him.

I just wanted to find the kidnapper and ensure he received his due punishment.

To my surprise, Edward also evaded this question.

"Is he dead?" I asked in confusion.

"No," he replied.

"Then where is he now? What has been done with him?"

Edward lowered his head, avoiding my gaze.

At that moment, there was a knock on my hospital room door.

When the door opened, four or five people entered, looking like a family.

They rushed over as soon as they entered, kneeling by my bedside.

"Thank you for being willing to sign the letter of forgiveness for us. Really, thank you."

Letter of forgiveness?

"What letter of forgiveness?" I asked the middle-aged woman holding a fruit basket.

She was taken aback and whispered, "The one you signed yesterday to agree to forgive the person who kidnapped you."

I felt a surge of anger burning my rationality.

Looking at Edward, who was silent, I understood everything.

"You signed the letter of forgiveness for me? Edward, by what right?!"

I grabbed the vase he had just put down and smashed it at him.

He stood there, motionless, allowing me to hit and smash.

The people around him were frightened and rushed to hold me back.

But I was like a madwoman, grabbing everything within reach with my only movable arm and throwing it at him.

Finally, when there was nothing left to throw, I sat on the bed, gasping for breath, my wounds torn open, blood seeping through the bandages, a terrifying red.

Edward held my hand as if cherishing some rare treasure.

"Don't be angry, Delia. Grace talked to the kidnapper; he did it out of desperation. After discussing, we decided to forgive him, but he will be imprisoned for a while to teach him a lesson."

What a joke.

My heart ached as if pricked by needles.

They played the good guys, but what about me?

Why was I not consulted?

I stared at him with bloodshot eyes.

"Edward, let's divorce."

I will definitely make you pay the price.

Grace was not my parents' biological child.

Yet in our home, I felt more like the outsider.

Simply because I was switched at birth, Grace had lived the life of a privileged daughter for twenty years, while I suffered under abusive, alcoholic parents for the same duration.

By the time my real family found me, it was too late.

Grace, their raised daughter for twenty years, was naturally closer to them than I, the returned outsider.

Even though my parents tried to compensate me materially, I could clearly feel the distance between us.

When I first entered this family, unable to adapt to everything, I met Edward.

He and Grace were childhood sweethearts, and everyone assumed they would marry, but he fell in love with me at first sight and pursued me relentlessly.

I was afraid Grace would be unhappy, so I didn't accept him.

However, Grace approached me later, saying she had no romantic feelings for Edward, which eased my concerns, and I finally agreed to be with Edward.

Edward was very good to me, and took care of me in every way.

I thought I had found true love.

Little did I know, this was the beginning of my nightmare.

Edward and Grace grew up together; he said she was like a sister to him, I accepted it.

But later, we had to include Grace in our dates, he bought gifts for her too, and even on our wedding day, he left me in the middle of the night to accompany her to watch the sunrise.

Yet everyone, including my parents, thought this was normal.

I had to endure it all, telling myself she was just a sister.

Because Edward disliked trouble, I was made to like the same clothes as Grace, the same food, making it easier for him when he shopped.

We had been married for five years, and I had grown accustomed to this selfless life.

Until today, when I suddenly realized that those who don't care about me will never care, no matter how well I do.

"What are you saying? You want to divorce? What happened?" A delicate voice came from the door, sickly sweet to the ear.

I looked up to see Grace in a white dress, her hand still on the doorknob, her eyes full of concern.

"None of your business," I replied coldly.

If my feeling for Edward was hatred, then for Grace, it was disgust.

When I first returned to my parents' home, to spare her feelings, I dared not be too affectionate with my own parents.

Even after marriage, I tolerated her calling him "Edward" and preparing a share of every good thing for her.

But how did she repay me?

By crying to our parents behind my back, accusing me of taking her things, and intruding on Edward and my world countless times.

I had seen through her facade long ago.

Now she stood at the door, pale, holding a lunchbox, appearing to be a frail girl concerned for her sister.

Edward saw her, rushed to take the lunchbox, and said,"Let the housekeeper deliver this. Why trouble yourself to come personally?"

He looked at Grace, his brows furrowed, his eyes filled with compassion and care.

It felt like a needle piercing my heart.

When Edward and I went out, I always carried my own luggage. He told me he didn't want me to be a woman who depended on others for everything.

Yet with Grace, he was overly protective, unwilling to let her exert herself in the slightest.

Grace smiled, shook her head, and grasped Edward's hand worriedly.

"Is it because of me? If so, I'll leave right now. Edward, she has always had a bad temper, and mom and dad and I have been very tolerant of her."

Bad temper? Tolerant?

I wanted to give her an award for her acting.

But unfortunately, even the worst acting can find believers.

Edward freed a hand, indulgently tapped her forehead, and held her delicate hand, blowing on it gently.

"Of course, it's not because of you. It's between us. Don't always take things upon yourself, silly. The lunchbox is so heavy; your hand must hurt."

"It doesn't hurt! Edward is so kind!"

Grace happily jumped, like an innocent and lively child, and threw her arms around Edward's neck, acting coquettish.

I felt disgusted and couldn't help but cough to remind them of my presence.

They seemed to remember I was there and quickly separated.

Edward brought the lunchbox to me, carefully opened it, and presented it.

"Honey, no matter what, you must take care of your health. Once you're discharged, I'll accompany you wherever you want to go."

Looking at the man I had been married to for five years, I only felt nauseous.

"Great! The three of us together!"

Grace suddenly popped up, innocently asking.

I smirked, my bloodless lips uttering two words:

"Hell."

"What?" Grace was taken aback and instinctively asked again.

"I said, I'll take you both with me, to hell."

The hospital at night was eerily quiet.

I took my phone, activated the video recording function, and stepped out of my room.

For the past five years, I had lived almost entirely for Edward, with no friends, and those so-called family members wouldn't help me. If I wanted revenge, I would have to rely on myself.

So, I planned to take advantage of the night when the medical staff were inattentive, to scout the surroundings of my ward, to better understand the terrain.

After surveying this floor, I was about to head downstairs when I heard a familiar voice from the adjacent room.

"Edward, don't blame her, she didn't mean those words."

Hearing this signature manipulative tone, I stopped in front of the door, intending to listen to how outrageous their conversation would become.

"Don't be sad, Grace, I know you've been wronged. But she is injured and it's normal for her to feel upset. Once she's a bit better, how about I take you out alone?"

"But... how do we explain it to her? Won't her recovery take a long time?"

"It won't take long. We'll leave once she's in a better mood and let the nanny take care of her. I'll just tell her I'm on a business trip, like before."

Business trip?

I sneered inwardly. No wonder Edward had to travel for business so often over the years. I had wondered how his small company could be so busy.

Turned out, he was busy accompanying his darling.

Shaking my head, I felt no emotional stir, about to turn away when Grace's next words rooted me to the spot.

"Then, does she know that I was the one who hired the kidnapper?"

What?!

I felt as if struck by lightning.

Edward's response further shattered my perception of him.

"She won't find out. I've signed the letter of forgiveness, and that family has been sent far away. This will be our forever secret."

"Thank you, Edward, you're so kind."

Grace cooed, "It's just that you haven't come to play with me lately. I just thought you didn't care about me anymore."

"How could I not care about you? I've just been busy. No more, okay? You scared me half to death."

"And Delia, she got so badly injured because of this."

Grace fell silent for a moment, then retorted petulantly, "It's not my fault. She struggled too much, or she wouldn't have been beaten."

Standing at the door, my heart grew colder with each passing second, until it became numb.

No wonder.

No wonder Edward signed the letter of forgiveness while I was unconscious.

No wonder the kidnapper singled me out for abuse while Grace remained unscathed.

Everything had been orchestrated!

I gasped for air, the pain from my torn left arm nothing compared to the ache in my heart.

Clinging to my last shred of sanity, I hid my phone in my pocket, then I turned and returned to my room.

I had planned to cause a disturbance in this hospital, but now I had a plan better suited for them, a punishment that fit their deeds.

The next morning, Grace arrived, bouncing with energy.

"How was your rest last night?"

Looking at her rosy cheeks, it seemed Edward had comforted her well.

"It's just us, you don't need to pretend."

I didn't lift my head, speaking coldly.

Grace wasn't expecting this from me and was momentarily speechless. She wanted to say something but saw that I wouldn't even spare her a glance.

She simply plopped down by my bedside.

She seemingly casually caressed her left wrist, the sunlight catching on it and glaring into my eyes.

I turned to look at that bracelet, finding it oddly familiar.

"Where did you get that?"

Grace, as if not wanting me to see the bracelet, quickly hid her hand.

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to show it off. I just mentioned it was pretty, and I didn't expect Edward to buy it for me."

I watched Grace, immersed in her own performance, feeling utterly unmoved.

I had an identical bracelet. When Edward gave it to me, he said it was a designer's personal piece, unique in the world.

Judging by Grace's reaction, whose was the true limited edition was obvious.

Coincidentally, Edward arrived right on time.

"Honey, you're awake? Perfect, I didn't go to the office today and personally made Pasta for you at home."

I looked at the Pasta he offered, expressionlessly lowering my head, not engaging with him.

Over time, Edward's hands, holding the bowl, began to tremble slightly.

And Grace, who had looked unhappy since his statement, could no longer stay seated.

She snatched the bowl from Edward.

Her tone carried a hint of sorrow.

"How can you not cherish Edward's intentions? I've never even had the chance to taste the Pasta he made with his own hands."

Sensing the jealousy in her words, I sneered.

"With his own hands? I bet he just supervised the nanny in making it. Besides, no matter what, he is my husband."

Hearing my words, Grace took an incredulous step back, put down the Pasta, and ran out crying.

"How could you speak to Grace like that and hurt her!"

Edward, probably not expecting this from me, looked at me with disbelief.

He was about to chase after Grace.

"Stay there, don't move."