Caleb didn’t return until the next day.

When he saw the mess inside the house, he immediately panicked, frantically searching for me.

He thought I had suffered another depressive episode. His eyes reddened with concern as he gently cupped my face.

“Wife, I wish I could take your pain for you. Are you feeling any better? Do you know what today is? It’s your parents’ farewell banquet.”

I curled up under the quilt, numb and indifferent.

“I’m not feeling well. Can I not go?”

He softened his tone even further.

“I know your parents would want to see you show up smiling, full of life. That’s how they’d like to be remembered—through you.”

I stared into his eyes. So sincere, so affectionate.

A look that once comforted me, now felt like poison. How many times had this man lied to my face?

“Alright. I’ll go.”

He exhaled discreetly, as though relieved that his mask hadn’t cracked. Then, putting on his usual loving act, he hugged me.

“It’s hard on you, I know. Just hold on a bit longer, once the farewell banquet is over…”

The banquet was large—attended by townspeople and those my father had helped during his lifetime.

And, of course, Elena was there too—the poor scholarship student my father had sponsored.

On the large screen in the banquet hall, a tribute video played showcasing my father’s life and legacy.

Just then, a familiar, sickly-sweet voice rang out.

“Elena!”

I froze.

Turning slowly, I faced Elena.

Her smile was delicate, refined—completely insincere.

“It’s been so long. You’re still just as beautiful,” she said smoothly, though her eyes swept over me like a predator sizing up a wounded prey.

She was dressed in a Chanel suit, with Cartier bracelets glinting on her wrist—clearly flaunting her new status.

This same woman once knelt at our door, begging my mother to sponsor her education.

Now she looked down at me like I was beneath her.

The women around us began to whisper, their voices laced with ridicule.

“Oh, she still dares to show her face here?”

“Elena is such a kind soul. She organized all of this for the pastor’s farewell. No wonder she’s marrying into the Turner family. Such grace.”

Elena’s eyes shimmered with satisfaction, though she quickly put on a serious expression.

“Alright, don’t say any more.”

Before I could even refuse, she hooked her arm in mine and led me toward the stage.

“Today is the pastor’s farewell banquet. Of course, his daughter should say a few words.”

I was dragged onto the stage, my mind foggy and disoriented.

And then it happened.

A man—the very one who had assaulted me—ran up onto the platform.

The tribute video of my father faded to black.

The screen flickered, and then—

A nightmare unfolded.

My humiliation played across the screen, uncensored and raw.

A recording of my violation, broadcast in full view.

As if that weren’t enough, a recording began to play from hidden speakers.

It was my mother’s voice.

“Remember, no matter what happens, a girl must never lose her dignity… You must always respect and love yourself…”

Her voice was gentle, kind—but in that moment, it cut deeper than any blade.

Shame, panic, grief—they surged like a tsunami, crashing over me.

I couldn’t breathe.

It felt like my soul was being torn from my body, leaving a hollow, lifeless shell.

I screamed. I needed to escape.

But before I could move, the man grabbed my arm and dropped to his knees in front of the crowd.

He started crying—fake, theatrical sobs.

“I’m sorry! I need to confess today. This woman—she seduced me!”

“She’s a slut! She seduced me and destroyed my life!”

I wanted to scream, to tell them it was a lie—that it was all a setup, a conspiracy.

But my voice caught in my throat.

No sound came out.

Chaos erupted in the hall.

The crowd roared.

Eggs, wilted vegetables, and rotting fruit rained down on me.

Shouts, curses, and condemnation filled the air.

“How could a pastor have such a daughter?”

“You’re a disgrace! You ruined your father’s retirement and now his farewell!”

“Your parents died because of you! Why are you still alive?”

A stick came flying through the air. It struck me hard, and I crumpled to the floor as blood trickled down.

“Elena, are you alright—?”

Caleb shoved people aside and sprinted toward me like a man possessed.

His face was twisted with worry—his eyes almost too convincing.

He cradled me in his arms, his warmth familiar but now repulsive.

“Ouch!”

Elena suddenly let out a cry and theatrically fell from the stage.

Caleb stroked my hair, tender as ever, like I was some fragile, wounded creature.

But his gaze had already shifted, locked onto Elena.

He stared at her—utterly unable to look away.

After a long, painful silence, he seemed to reach some inner conclusion.

He finally tore his eyes from her, then whispered hoarsely in my ear:

“I’m sorry, Elena. I shouldn’t have left you alone so long… I shouldn’t have let you come here… I failed to protect you.”

His tears were warm as they dripped onto my shoulder, but my heart was colder than ever.

His performance was flawless.

If I hadn’t seen the truth for myself, if I hadn’t heard it with my own ears—

I might have believed him again.

I might have fallen for that gentle illusion once more.

Outside the church, Caleb walked me to the car.

But he kept checking his phone until a message appeared.

Panic flickered across his face before he quickly masked it with a serious expression.

“Baby, something happened to a friend. I need to go take care of it.”

He kissed my forehead apologetically.

“I’m sorry. Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow’s our wedding day. I haven’t seen you in your dress yet. I’ve prepared a surprise—you’ll love it.”

I turned my head slightly and nodded. “Okay, go. I’ll wait for you to pick me up tomorrow.”

He smiled, relieved, patted my hand gently, then got into another car and drove off.

I closed my eyes, trying to calm the storm inside me.

Moments later, a notification lit up my phone.

It was a video by Elena.

In it, she was wearing the wedding dress I had ordered.

On her finger was the massive diamond ring that Caleb had custom-made for me.

Caleb gently stroked her hair, eyes full of tenderness.

“Why are you so foolish?” he said. “You shielded her from that wooden plank. What if you'd been hurt?”

“I didn’t do it for her,” Elena replied. “I did it for you. She’s your wife. It’s the least I could do.”

His eyes wavered slightly, then his hand slipped to the bottom of her back.

“Elena, after today, you can finally relax. I’m sure what happened at the banquet has already spread throughout town. Elena will be branded a whore forever. She’ll never be a threat to your place in Caleb’s heart again.”

“Caleb, thank you for thinking of me,” she whispered sweetly. “But it’s not fair to you. You’re so powerful, yet you’re forced to marry someone like her…”

“I don’t need anything in return,” he said hoarsely. His eyes darkened with lust.

“Let me be your bride today, just for a day,” she offered.

“No, Elena,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I want this. Elena... She means nothing. What matters is your happiness. I’ll do anything for that.”

The video ended, but I had no time to breathe.

Another one followed.

“I can only be with her at night when the lights are off, pretending she’s you,” Caleb’s voice moaned. “Elena, my good Elena, come to your brother…”

The driver chuckled from the front seat.

Alarmed, I looked up and noticed the route outside the window was unfamiliar—not heading home, nor to the hospital.

“You won’t be needing a hospital,” he said with a smirk. “Miss Elena has something else planned for you.”

The car stopped abruptly. I flung the door open, only to be overwhelmed by a sharp perfume.

It was Elena.

Gone was her polite facade. She yanked my collar, dragging me out of the car and onto the pavement.

She kicked my face hard, laughing like a madwoman.

“Oh, Elena. You’re filth now—inside and out. Didn’t you and your precious pastor mother always look down on me? Well, now even the street beggars look down on you. How does that feel?”

“I don’t know what spell you cast, but the two Turner brothers were obsessed with you. But look—one trick from me and they both dumped you like garbage!”

She sneered, stepping harder.

“Especially Caleb. Do you really think being pregnant will tie him to you? Do you think you’ll become his beloved wife again with a second ceremony?”

She leaned closer.

“Your wedding dress? Your ring? They’re mine now—secondhand. But I suppose it doesn’t matter. You’re used goods too. Or should I say, nearly third-hand?”

She tilted her head, smirking.

“By the way, I had Caleb keep the guy who slept with you. Maybe tomorrow I’ll join your wedding and let him continue the show—in front of Jesus.”

My mind spun, rage surging in my chest.

She had stolen from my family, and my mother had forgiven her. Not only that—she supported her for ten years, treating her like a foster daughter.

Strict as she may have been, we gave her everything. And was this her repayment?

She wanted me to see it all—just to crush any sympathy Caleb might still have for me now that I was pregnant.

Enraged, I roared and lunged at her.

But before I could reach her, the driver kicked me down. I crashed to the ground, scraping my arm on broken concrete.

Elena shrieked and stumbled back—untouched, unhurt.

Just then, Caleb came running.

But instead of looking at me, he darted straight to her.

He stepped on my hand without even noticing and wrapped his arms around Elena, his voice trembling.

“Elena, are you alright? Are you hurt?”

His face—etched with worry.

His arms—protecting her, not me.

His eyes—never once looking back.

I stared at Caleb, furious and confused, but before I could speak, Elena collapsed into his arms, sobbing.

“Elena, I only wanted to comfort you. Why did you hurt me? You know… I just found out I’m pregnant.”

Her voice trembled with a blend of grievance and bitterness.

“Even if you despise me, the child is innocent.”

As Caleb's eyes widened in surprise, she leaned close and whispered in his ear, “Caleb, this baby… it’s the gift of love God gave us.”

But instead of the joy she clearly expected, his expression shifted to something unreadable.

Then the driver chimed in indignantly, “Boss, I think Madam’s condition has already recovered. She’s sharp as ever. Just now, she cursed Miss Elena, calling her a slut with a bastard child and saying she was a cheap tramp.”

Caleb turned to me, a glint of coldness in his eyes.

“Elena,” he said, voice low and dangerous, “Elena saved my life. I warned everyone—no one touches her, not even my wife.”

He stepped closer, tone biting.

“Why can’t you just behave?”

My voice trembled. “You speak of life-saving debt… and this is how you repay me? With my innocence? With my parents’ lives?”

“You want obedience? You want me to be ruined and still smile as you destroy me?”

His expression stiffened. For a moment, there was panic in his eyes, but he masked it quickly with a sneer.

“You sound insane. Maybe you forgot to take your medicine again. Better lock you up—let you calm down before the ceremony tomorrow.”

I laughed bitterly, a sound full of emptiness.

“Do you even know who saved you?”

Caleb froze, visibly shaken, eyes clouded with confusion.

Elena’s face twisted. Her eyes reddened as she clung to him and cried out,

“The Song family supported me for ten years. Everything I have should’ve belonged to my sister. How could I steal her credit for one small act of kindness? Caleb… how didn’t I see your true nature before?”

The driver, ever eager to stir trouble, added, “Calm down, Madam. But don’t you think Miss Elena deserves to know how it feels to be hurt by someone she trusted?”

At that, Caleb stormed over and slapped me hard across the face.

“You’ve lost all shame! Elena still has dignity! Do you think everyone’s like you—willing to spread their legs for attention?”

Without another glance, he wrapped his arm around Elena and turned to leave.

Just as he stepped away, he paused and looked back, his voice cold:

“Take her back. Lock her up. Let her reflect on her behavior—and bring her to the seaside church tomorrow on time.”

“Yes, Boss,” the driver said eagerly, then turned toward me with a sinister grin.

“You really messed up, didn’t you? Everyone knows Miss Elena is the Boss’s favorite. Now she’s paid me to teach you a lesson.”

He leaned in, breath reeking.

“So don’t blame me for what comes next.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” I shouted.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, the Boss won’t care. Even if he finds out, he’ll side with her.”

Before I could escape, he dragged me and shoved me into the trunk.

After a jarring, painful ride, I was hauled into a cold, damp basement.

The stench of mold and the squeaking of rats chilled me to the bone.

All night, he tortured me in the cruelest ways. To avoid visible injuries, he drove thin needles under my fingernails and toenails.

Ten fingers linked to the heart—every stab sent unbearable pain through me.

I fainted again and again, only to be revived by icy water splashed over me.

By the time I opened my eyes again, it was the next day.

My body felt shattered—bruised, broken, aching in every fiber.

Next to me, my phone buzzed endlessly.

The screen was filled with posts from Elena—boasting, flaunting.

“Love shows in how a man spends,” she wrote smugly.

She wore the ruby necklace Caleb had bought at auction, dazzling against her pale skin.

Together, they unveiled his new yacht—named Elena.

Champagne poured down the tower while the two of them beamed at each other. Their affection so showy it made me ill.

But I felt nothing. I was numb. Empty.

Slowly, I reached beneath the bed, pulling out what I had hidden there long ago.

The divorce papers.

The wound examination from the rescue I performed in Canada five years ago.

A recent pregnancy test.

I laid them out neatly in the most visible spot.

Outside, Caleb’s men stood guard at the villa gate.

I dragged myself up, climbed through the window with agonizing effort, and looked out over the waves crashing beneath the cliffside estate.

In the distance, a small, barely noticeable boat approached.

Then my phone lit up again.

It was Caleb.

His message read:

“Do you realize your mistake now? Apologize to Elena at the ceremony tomorrow. She’s willing to forgive you.”

“Be good, Elena. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

I typed back slowly:

“My biggest mistake was saving the man in black who washed up on the shores of Canada, stabbed seven times, bleeding to death—five years ago.”

I glanced down, gently placing my hand on my belly.

Then, without hesitation, I jumped into the sea.

I didn’t know that the phone I left behind had begun vibrating violently, almost desperately, on the floor.