After seven years of marriage, Zayn adored me like his life itself. Everyone said I was the girl who went from nothing to everything.

But what they didn’t know was that every day, I had to watch him play out his little love affairs right in front of me. He even fell in love with our family doctor and allowed her to use me as a practice subject.

Day after day, I was forced to take endless herbal medicines; needle marks covered my body and the bruises never faded.

When I got the call saying my younger sister was in critical condition, the doctor stopped me from leaving, saying she needed me for the final step of her experiment.

Almost begging, I said, “My sister has a heart condition. Please let me go see her.”

Natalie didn’t even blink. “I’m the doctor here and I say your sister’s faking it.”

In my panic, I turned to Zayn for help. But he only said coldly, “Natalie is a professional. She wouldn’t lie. Stop making things up to get sympathy.”

With my heart completely shattered, I chose to let go.

But then — he fell to his knees, eyes red, begging me to come back.

——

When I got the news that my sister’s heart disease had come back, I was tied to an operating table by Natalie.

Crying, I begged her, “Natalie, please, I’m begging you! Let me go to the hospital—my sister’s having a heart attack!”

Wearing her white coat, Natalie calmly mixed her medicine as if she didn’t hear me at all.

I struggled hard, but the bodyguards she ordered held me down tightly.

“Natalie, you’re a doctor—you know a heart attack can kill someone! I’m begging you, please let me go. When my sister gets better, I’ll come back and be your test subject!”

Natalie turned to look at me, her eyes full of disdain. “Aren’t you already my test subject?”

She sneered, “Besides, your sister’s life is worthless. Even if she dies, what does that have to do with me? If you dare not cooperate, I’ll have Zayn stop paying for her medical bills. Then she’ll die anyway—if not now, soon enough.”

I froze completely, my struggles stopping without me realizing it.

Tears blurred my vision.

Just then, Zayn pushed the door open and walked in.

A faint spark of hope lit up in my eyes. “Zayn, my sister’s heart disease came back, she—”

But he didn’t even lift his eyes. With a tone full of irritation, he cut me off, “It’s just a relapse, not like she’s dying right now. Why are you making such a fuss? Right now, nothing in the world is more important than helping Natalie finish her experiment!”

My heart went cold. I never expected him to say something like that.

Next to him, Natalie set down the vial in her hand and wrapped her arm around Zayn’s neck affectionately.

“Zayn,” she said sweetly, “I already sent someone to check. Her sister didn’t have any heart attack at all. She just made up that story to get sympathy and avoid being my test subject.”

Hearing that, Zayn frowned and looked at me, his tone full of disgust.

“To serve Natalie is a blessing your Quell family could never earn in several lifetimes and yet you dare to lie? Is this how your dead parents taught you to behave?”

A smug look flashed in Natalie’s eyes. “I think she’s too emotional right now. We’d better give her a sedative.”

Zayn nodded in agreement without hesitation.

No matter how hard I cried and begged, they still forced the injection into me. When I woke up again, I found myself still lying on that same operating table.

My phone, lying on the floor, started ringing. I struggled to reach it and pressed “answer.”

A voice came through the line.

“Miss Quell, your sister passed away last night at 10:58 p.m. despite all rescue efforts. You’re her only family, so please come and take her home.”

All the blood in my body seemed to freeze. My throat tightened so much that I couldn’t say a single word.

Thinking about what Zayn and Natalie did yesterday, my chest felt like it had been cut open—sharp pain spreading through me.

Seven years of love and not once did I get his true heart. Then I didn’t want it anymore.

I picked up my phone and sent him a message:

[Zayn, let’s get a divorce.]

Less than thirty seconds after I sent the message, Zayn called.

He spoke angrily, “Yvonne, you used your parents’ lives to force me into marrying you and now you want a divorce? I’m telling you—keep dreaming!”

My throat felt dry and bitter. “Zayn, I…”

Before I could finish, a sweet, playful voice came from his side of the line.

“Zayn, help me get my underwear.”

My chest tightened painfully.

The call ended with a cold beep-beep and I couldn’t help but let out a bitter, mocking laugh.

When I came out of the hospital morgue, I ran into Zayn.

He frowned the moment he saw me and sneered. “Didn’t you say you wanted a divorce? And now you’re chasing me all the way to the hospital. Yvonne, don’t you think you’re pathetic?”

My heart trembled, but I didn’t try to defend myself. After seven years together, he had never once believed me—so why bother explaining now?

Seeing me stay silent only made Zayn more certain that I was playing hard to get. The contempt in his eyes deepened.

I was just about to step aside and leave when I bumped straight into Natalie coming from the other direction.

She fell to the ground, her eyes instantly welling up with tears. “Why did you push me? If you’re angry with me, you can just say it. There’s no need for this kind of petty behavior.”

But I hadn’t done anything at all. Before I could react, Zayn rushed over and slapped me hard across the face.

The force was so strong that my body—already weak from years of abuse—couldn’t take it. I fell straight to the ground.

A flicker of emotion crossed Zayn’s eyes.

He helped Natalie up and she frowned at me. “Miss Quell, stop pretending. I know I’ve tested medicine on you all these years, but I’ve also kept your body strong and healthy.”

She gave a soft laugh. “Pretending to be fragile and pitiful? Zayn would never fall for that kind of act.”

Hearing that, Zayn’s face darkened. “You really know how to act. I almost believed you.”

I was speechless, unable to defend myself.

All these years, it looked like Natalie was just using me to test her medicine—but in truth, she was finding new ways to torment me.

Even when my body was covered in blood and bruises—every wound laid bare before his eyes—Zayn never spared me a single glance.

Instead, he believed every word Natalie said, thinking I had hurt myself on purpose just to get his attention.

After Zayn left with his arm around Natalie, all hope in me died. I took my sister’s body to the crematorium.

Later, numb and hollow, I carried her urn home—only to find Natalie waiting for me at the corner of the stairs.

She was wearing my silk nightgown, standing there with the calm arrogance of someone who already saw herself as the lady of the house.

“Yvonne, you really are something,” Natalie sneered. “I’ve already made you lose three children and yet you still managed to get pregnant again.”

I froze, clutching the urn in my arms tighter, my hand instinctively moving to my flat stomach.

Her eyes turned cold as she looked at me. “So what if you’re pregnant? Zayn has only ever loved me. As for that filthy little thing in your belly—it has no right to live.”

A sense of dread ran through me. I tried to turn and run, but Natalie suddenly shoved me hard. I tumbled down the stairs.

A sharp pain tore through my abdomen and I felt something warm trickle down between my legs.

Just as she was about to mock me again, footsteps echoed from nearby. Natalie quickly slapped herself across the face.

Then she threw herself into Zayn’s arms, her voice trembling with feigned innocence. “Zayn, she said she doesn’t want to be my test subject anymore—and she even slapped me.”

“It’s not true! I never said that—she’s framing me!” I tried to defend myself, my voice weak and shaking.

“Enough,” Zayn snapped, not even bothering to hear me out.

His eyes were cold and sharp. “Natalie is kind by nature—she would never lie. Apologize to her. Otherwise, get out and kneel outside for three hours.”

Clutching my stomach, I begged weakly, “Zayn, I’m pregnant… Please, take me to the hospital. I think I’m losing the baby.”

His eyes flicked to the blood pooling beneath me and for a brief moment, the hardness in his face seemed to ease.

He started down the stairs to check on me, but Natalie quickly grabbed his arm. “Zayn, she’s not pregnant at all. That blood is just her period. She slapped me earlier and now she’s pretending to be hurt so you won’t blame her.”

She tightened her grip on him, tears glimmering in her eyes. “Zayn, if you don’t punish her, I’ll leave right now!”

Hearing that, all trace of emotion vanished from Zayn’s eyes. He ordered coldly, “Since you refuse to apologize, then get out and kneel. Reflect on your own behavior.”

Two bodyguards stepped forward and began dragging me away.

Seeing how tightly I clutched the box in my arms, Natalie suddenly said, “I want that box.”

It held my sister’s ashes and I refused without hesitation. “No! If you want an apology, fine—but this box contains my sister’s ashes. I can’t give it to you!”

A glint of cruelty flashed in Natalie’s eyes. She leaned toward Zayn, her voice soft and coy. “Zayn, I want that box.”

“And look at her,” Natalie continued sweetly, “She’s so desperate to keep that box, she’s even cursing her own sister. Besides, I got a call from the hospital not long ago—they said her sister was never sick to begin with.”

Zayn frowned, his voice firm. “If Natalie wants it, give it to her. As for your apology—you’re not going anywhere until she decides to accept it.”

I froze, stunned. My arms suddenly felt empty.

When I looked up, I saw Natalie turning the urn in her hands, a mocking smile playing on her lips.

Forced to kneel under the scorching sun for three hours, I could barely stand afterward.

The first thing I did when I got up was print out a divorce agreement—then head straight to the hospital for an abortion.

Looking at the tiny embryo that had almost begun to form, a sharp pain twisted in my chest.

Once I calmed down, I gently placed it into a foam box and arranged for a courier to deliver it.

When I arrived at Zayn’s office, he was smiling tenderly—watching Natalie shape little clay figures.

I still remembered the time I’d brought him chips while he was working; he’d flown into a rage, scolding me in front of all his employees.

He even ordered that both I and my dog were never to step foot in his office again.

Clutching the divorce papers tightly, I walked up to his desk, unsure how to begin.

But before I could speak, he signed it without even looking up, thinking it was just another document from his secretary.

Relief washed over me and I turned to leave quietly. But Natalie suddenly looked up, a sly, mocking smile curving her lips. “Mrs. Flynn, are you here to see how us regular people live?”

Zayn finally looked up and saw me. When my eyes met his—so distant, so utterly devoid of love—my chest ached faintly. “I just wanted to ask… could you give that box back to me?”

A flash of malice flickered in Natalie’s eyes as she toyed with the clay figurine in her hand, pinching it over and over.

“Oh, that box? I already threw it away,” she said with mock cheerfulness. “The garbage truck should be coming to collect it right about now.”

My breath caught. Without a second thought, I turned and ran.

By the time I stumbled home in panic, the garbage truck was just about to leave.

I rushed forward and stopped it, explaining my situation breathlessly.

After rummaging through the garbage for nearly three hours, I finally found the urn.

My hands trembled as I thanked the driver, clutching the urn tightly against my chest— terrified to let go ever again.

The relief of recovering what I’d lost steadied my trembling heart for a moment. But when I opened the box to check inside, it was empty.

I froze, staring in disbelief.

Then I realized—Natalie had tricked me!

A wave of humiliation surged through me, hot and choking.

Unwilling to accept it, I turned back to the office and confronted her. “Where are the ashes from that box?”