Back then, Dione had been sure of herself. Even the most glamorous movie stars couldn’t seem to catch Cedric’s eye, so she never gave a second thought to the idea that an average-looking girl with no standout features could win his attention.

So, she let it go.

But then, Dione’s health began to decline. She needed chemotherapy, and to keep Cedric from worrying, she fabricated a story about going abroad for a trip. Yet when she returned, fresh from her treatment, everything felt different.

It was right after her first round of chemotherapy. Her complexion was pale, the effects of the treatment evident, and she feared Cedric might notice and grow concerned. So, she headed to a beauty salon for some treatment. The beautician, in an attempt to lighten the mood, teasingly asked her how she could stand Cedric taking on a female apprentice.

It wasn’t until then that Dione learned Cedric had been attending one high-profile event after another with Ophelia, proudly introducing her as his beloved apprentice to anyone who would listen. She was the last to know.

Cedar Ridge’s media, always quick to stir the pot, seized the opportunity with exaggerated headlines. By the time Dione had gathered the courage to confront him, Cedric had already instructed her to handle the media.

For the sake of Cedric’s reputation, Dione accepted his new apprentice, putting on a gracious front for the cameras.

Watching Cedric go to great lengths to protect Ophelia, Dione’s heart broke. All the questions she had, the ones she couldn’t voice, were swallowed by the pain. As time passed, the resentment festered, becoming a wound that never healed.

Dione transferred a large sum to Dr. Pierce for the euthanasia arrangements and also donated generously to a lupus research foundation.

Her bank card was linked to Cedric’s, so he received notifications of these transactions. After a quick glance, he tossed his phone aside, assuming Dione was simply splurging on another new handbag.

Ophelia’s teeth ground together as she watched, her gaze burning with resentment. To her, the money Dione spent so freely seemed like a wound, a piece of flesh she would eventually claim for herself.

Dione hadn’t expected Ophelia to show up at her doorstep, and certainly not with such audacity. She was flipping through old photos when the doorbell rang. Thinking it was the takeout she had ordered, she opened the door only to find Ophelia standing there, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Dione, long time no see. Why do you look so pale? Could it be menopause?” Ophelia sneered, her smile sickly sweet.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Dione slapped her hard across the face.

“You’ve got some nerve! A dog like you dares to bark at my door?”

Though Dione’s health had taken a toll, she still made sure to keep fit when she could, and the slap was delivered with force, a clear sign of her strength.

“But Cedric likes this dog of his,” Ophelia smirked, her voice dripping with malicious amusement as she played a recording from her phone.

First came Ophelia's coy voice. “Cedric, I’m going to drain you dry so you won’t touch her when you go home.”

Then came Cedric's unsatisfied voice. “I haven’t touched her in half a year. She’s too skinny. Hugging her is like hugging a dried corpse…”

Hearing Cedric say those words was like a slap to Dione’s face. She stood frozen, unable to comprehend what she was hearing.

Her lupus had been hereditary, something Cedric had known from the moment they met. He had researched the condition and had been careful with her, reminding her every day to take her medication. And yet, here he was, speaking like that.

He had said it countless times, how sorry he felt for her, tormented by the illness, wishing he could offer her his own flesh to ease her pain. Yet now, to hear him say holding her was like clutching a dried corpse felt like a knife in her heart.

Ten years of marriage, how had their love soured so dramatically?

Then Ophelia handed over Cedric’s wedding ring, her gaze flaunting as she watched Dione’s reaction.

“Cedric never wears this when he’s with me,” Ophelia said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “He says it’s bad luck. But you seem to like it, so I brought it back for you.”

The ring had been bought with Cedric’s first earnings. He had rented the grandest LED screen at Emerald Harbor, displaying her name in lights, and had set off a breathtaking fireworks show to make up for their missed proposal.

Even though Cedric later earned a fortune, the ring held a meaning that couldn’t be matched. For both of them, it was irreplaceable. He wouldn’t even consider resizing it, let alone replacing it. He wore it constantly, never taking it off, not while bathing, not even while sleeping.

“Dione,” Ophelia began with a sly smirk, “Master said you don’t own a single lace-trimmed piece of lingerie. I didn’t think you’d be so… old-fashioned.”

She unbuttoned her top deliberately, exposing faint marks on her skin and the delicate lace peeking underneath.

“Do you know how thrilled Master was when he saw me in this? These marks? They’re all his doing. You can’t even imagine that when he’s with me, he’s like a ravenous wolf.”

Her words were venomous, each one a poisoned dagger plunging deep into Dione’s heart. Her hands balled into fists, her entire body trembling as waves of pain and anger surged through her.

Unable to restrain her fury, Dione struck out, her fists and slaps raining down mercilessly on Ophelia. The younger woman was left battered and crying for mercy. If the neighbors hadn’t rushed over after hearing the chaos, Dione might have beaten her to death.

Ophelia hadn’t expected the frail-looking Dione to possess such strength, but the outcome suited her plans perfectly. Covered in bruises, she went straight to Cedric, her face twisted in pitiful complaint.

After Ophelia left, Dione’s rage turned inward, erupting into a storm of destruction. She smashed everything within reach, leaving the house in shambles. She was in the middle of cutting up their wedding photos when Cedric returned.

He opened the door to chaos, shattered glass and broken fragments scattered across the floor like remnants of a hurricane. In the center of it all stood Dione, scissors in hand, blood dripping from her fingers onto the gleaming blade. Her disheveled hair framed her wild, unhinged expression.

Cedric panicked as his eyes darted across the wreckage. Stepping carefully over the shards, he approached her, his tone soft yet desperate. "Dione, did you misunderstand something? I accidentally left my ring at the studio, and Ophelia brought it over because she thought I’d be worried."

“She’s just a kind-hearted girl.”

Dione let out a bitter laugh, her voice dripping with mockery. “Kind-hearted? How? By being generous enough to care for someone else’s husband?”

Cedric stiffened, momentarily caught off guard, before moving closer. Gently, he reached for the scissors in her hand, his voice laced with forced calm. “I only see her as a disciple. Don’t overthink it.”

“A beloved disciple who’s opened your eyes to a new world, isn’t that right?” Dione’s words sliced sharper than any blade. “Cedric, let’s get a divorce.”

Panic flashed across his face as he immediately wrapped his arms around her, holding her as if afraid she might vanish. “No. I won’t divorce you. Not in this lifetime.”

“I swear, I’ll only ever love you.”

His words flowed like a stream of empty promises, each one finding a way to shield Ophelia. Dione, too drained to argue over whatever twisted narrative Ophelia had spun, pushed him away with visible disgust before collapsing onto the couch. Her voice was hollow, devoid of emotion.

“Fine. No divorce.”

She no longer cared. What difference did it make? Her time was slipping away. Once she chose euthanasia, Cedric would be free, widowed, not divorced, and unburdened to remarry.

Cedric called the family doctor to tend to Dione’s wounds while he quietly set about cleaning the chaos she had left in her wake. She watched him with hollow eyes, unable to reconcile how the man who once adored her with such intensity could now feel like a stranger.

Ophelia’s cruel words echoed in her mind, a relentless torment that sent tremors through her body. Her hands shook uncontrollably as her breathing quickened.

Noticing her distress, Cedric paused mid-cleanup and hurried to retrieve her medication. “Did you forget to take your pills?”

Dione’s fury surged. She slapped the bottle from his hand, the sound sharp and echoing in the tense silence. Her venomous glare pierced through him as she spat, “Cedric, you disgust me.”

Cedric stood frozen, a helpless expression clouding his face. Assuming her anger stemmed from the ring, he tried to soothe her with a forced lightness.

“I’m sorry, my dear wife. Next time I lose my ring, you can cut off my hand, okay?”

Dione didn’t bother wasting another word. She cast a cold, detached glance at Cedric before stepping into the bedroom and locking the door behind her.

Outside, Cedric’s gentle knocks broke the silence. His voice carried a soft plea tinged with guilt.

“Dione, if you’re upset, talk to me, okay? Don’t keep it all inside.”

“It’s my fault. I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t had time to spend with you properly.”

After a brief pause, he added, “How about this? The day after tomorrow, I’ll take you back to your hometown. You’ve been wanting to visit for so long.”

Hometown…

The word struck a chord in Dione, stirring memories she had buried deep. Yes, before leaving this world, she should return one last time. Her voice was calm and devoid of emotion as she replied, “Okay.”

For the next two days, Cedric stayed home with her, but his presence felt hollow. He was constantly glued to his phone, replying to messages or stepping out onto the balcony for calls, his mind clearly elsewhere.

On the morning of their departure, Dione woke to an empty bed. She searched the house, but Cedric was nowhere to be found.

Just as she reached for her phone to call him, a message from Ophelia arrived.

The image attached stole the breath from her lungs. Cedric lay asleep in Ophelia’s arms, his hand draped around her neck like a treasured ornament.

It was a sight that stabbed at Dione’s memories. Once upon a time, he had held her the same way, entwining their bodies in sleep as though she were his lifeline. But everything had changed when her illness worsened. Cedric worried about her fragile state, had begun sleeping at a careful distance, leaving a hollow space where his warmth used to be.

Before Dione could process the betrayal in the photo, another message came through: screenshots of their chats, dozens of them.

Piece by piece, the truth unfolded before her eyes. Each exchange painted a clearer picture of how Cedric had fallen into Ophelia’s web.

One particular message replayed in her mind like a haunting refrain. [Brother Cedric, please let me stay. I’m willing to do anything…]

The words were followed by a string of pitiful emojis, calculated to tug at his heartstrings.

At first, Cedric hadn’t replied. But Ophelia persisted, sending a heartfelt plea that spilled the misery of her past and the struggles she had faced since arriving in Cedar Ridge.

When no response came, Ophelia resorted to drastic measures. She sent Cedric a selfie taken in front of a mirror. In the photo, her body was bare, with only her hands modestly covering what was necessary. Her wide, innocent eyes gazed at the camera, dripping with a calculated mix of vulnerability and desperation.

[Brother Cedric, I’m still a virgin. Help me, and I’ll give myself to you…]

The silence didn’t last long. Cedric finally replied, his tone sharp yet wavering.

[Delete this right now. A girl should have self-respect!]

Ophelia’s response was swift, a crying emoji followed by a plea. She claimed she was at her wit’s end and didn’t know what else to do. If Cedric wouldn’t help her, she’d have no choice but to sell herself that very night. To seal her act, she attached a location pin.

The address? Cedar Ridge’s notorious red-light district.

Cedric, unable to ignore the urgency in her words, urged her not to make any rash decisions. Moments later, he left to find her, following the location she had sent.

From that moment on, their conversations grew more frequent, each one tinged with an intimacy that bordered on the forbidden.

Ophelia often peppered her messages with flirty emojis, kisses, hugs, and hearts. And Cedric, caught in her web, began responding with indulgent amusement, his restraint slowly eroding.

Judging by the timestamps, Dione realized that many times when Cedric claimed to be meeting clients, he was, in fact, with Ophelia.

As she read through the explicit chat logs, it felt as though a sledgehammer was pounding relentlessly against her chest. Each revelation stole the air from her lungs, leaving her gasping in agony.

Hot tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks, splashing onto the glowing screen of her phone, blurring the damning words she could never unsee.

She didn’t bother reaching out to Cedric again. With her heart shattered beyond repair, she packed her things and booked a flight to her hometown, choosing solitude over confrontation.

When the plane landed, her phone lit up with a series of missed calls and apologetic texts from Cedric.

[I’m sorry, wife. Laurent needed me for something urgent, and I missed the flight.]

[I’ve booked the next one; I’ll be there soon!]

[Wife, rest at the hotel when you arrive. I’ll join you later to visit Mom and Dad.]

Dione stared at his messages with cold detachment. Without replying, she flagged down a taxi and directed the driver toward the cemetery in a nearby city.

When she was eighteen, her world shattered in an instant. Her parents had died in a devastating car accident, and the driver responsible vanished without a trace.

Desperation had driven her to knock on every relative’s door, borrowing money just to give her parents a proper burial. The weight of grief and debt hung over her like a dark cloud.

It was during that turbulent year that she met Cedric, a man who seemed, at the time, to be her beacon of hope.