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.

To repay the debts she owed her relatives, Dione worked tirelessly, juggling two jobs every single day. One fateful night, after dragging herself through a grueling shift, she found herself cornered in a dim alley by a group of drunken thugs.

It was Cedric who came to her rescue. He fought valiantly, his fists doing the talking, until the chaos ended with everyone hauled to the police station.

When the police asked Dione to call her parents, silence fell over her. Unable to speak, she lowered her gaze as they checked her ID. The room grew eerily quiet when they discovered the truth about her parents.

Cedric, despite enduring punches that left his face swollen beyond recognition, never shed a tear. But when he learned that Dione had lost both her parents and was braving the world alone, his composure crumbled. Silent tears streaked down his bruised face; he couldn’t fathom how much pain she had endured in solitude.

From that moment on, Cedric made it his mission to be Dione’s protector during the long night shifts, always ensuring she made it home safely.

Cedric’s family wasn’t struggling. His father was a well-established entrepreneur known far and wide.

He confided in Dione about his family, sharing bits and pieces of his life, his father’s affair, his reluctance to inherit the family business, and his deep passion for sculpting...

Cedric had cut ties with them after they discovered his relationship with Dione. They had insisted he take the reins of the family business, scolding him for even considering marriage to a girl from such humble roots, especially one who had lost both her parents.

In defiance and to shield Dione from their harsh words, Cedric took her to Cedar Ridge, hoping to learn a new skill.

The past replayed in Dione’s mind like scenes from a movie, each memory sharp and vivid.

She knelt in front of the tombstone, the cold wind biting at her skin, but the warmth of her tears blurred her vision.

“Dad, Mom…”

“Wait for me, okay? I’ll find you soon.”

“In the next life, I still want to be your daughter.”

Winter’s chill had arrived, the air damp and biting, and the cemetery seemed to echo with her pain.

She waited for hours, but Cedric didn’t show. Eventually, with a heavy heart, she made her way back to the hotel alone.

Her phone remained silent, and after a long pause, she decided to call him.

The phone rang, the connection was slow, and when it finally clicked, the noise on the other end made her stomach tighten. There was a shuffle of footsteps before everything went quiet.

“Hello, wife. I’m sorry, something came up.”

“Ophelia had an accident. She’s all alone in Cedar Ridge, and as her mentor, I can’t leave her...”

Once again, Ophelia.

Dione couldn’t help but smile bitterly. Ophelia was so intent on keeping Cedric that she would go as far as to hurt herself to make him stay.

“Then take good care of her over there,” Dione said, her voice steady before hanging up.

She stayed in her hometown for over ten days, each day filled with messages and calls from Cedric, full of excuses about why he couldn’t make it.

Dione played along, not wanting to confront him.

As the day of her appointment with Dr. Pierce approached, she packed up and made her way back to Cedar Ridge.

She didn’t tell Cedric she was returning, she didn’t owe him that, and instead, went straight to his studio to collect her things.

When she arrived, Ophelia was already there, sitting in Cedric’s usual chair, a coffee cup in hand. Her legs were crossed arrogantly as she barked orders to the employees around her.

Dione’s face darkened instantly as she strode toward Ophelia, knocking the coffee cup out of her hand with a sharp motion.

“Is this how you usually waste time? Making everyone else carry the load—what’s the point of you being here?” Dione demanded.

Ophelia, flustered and caught off guard, was about to retort when she noticed Cedric coming out of the room. In an instant, she switched tactics, feigning hurt and rushing to apologize.

“Sister Dione, you’ve misunderstood...”

“I wasn’t slacking off. I’ve been working nonstop and just finally got a moment to breathe.”

Cedric quickly stepped forward, grabbing Dione’s hand with a pleading expression.

“Wife, why didn’t you tell me you were coming back? I would’ve picked you up from the airport.”

Dione shook his hand off and walked into the office without a word, her steps deliberate and cold.