"Trudy Mason, my son is about to marry the richest man's daughter. If you know what's good for you, you'll get lost."

　　"Here's five million dollars. I bet you've never seen this kind of money in your life."

　　Judy Simmons pulled a check from her purse and flicked it at Trudy's face.

　　In five years of marriage to Zachary Simmons, this wasn't the first time his mother had demanded she leave.

　　Because Trudy was an orphan, and because the car accident had left her unable to conceive, Judy had never once accepted her.

　　Every other time, Trudy had swallowed her pride and tried to appease the woman.

　　But this time, she calmly picked the check up off the floor. Her voice didn't waver. "Fine."

　　Half an hour earlier.

　　Trudy clutched the pregnancy test results in her hand, heart racing as she hurried to the door of Zachary's study.

　　Her fingers had just touched the handle when she heard the men inside laughing.

　　"Zach, you lost three rounds in a row. House rules say you owe us three secrets!"

　　Zachary scoffed, the corner of his mouth curling into a mocking arc.

　　"The car accident Trudy had? That was me. The plagiarism accusation against her designs? Also me."

　　The air seemed to freeze for a few seconds after the words left his mouth.

　　Then he continued. "The vitamins she's been taking all these years? I swapped them for contraceptives. I don't love her, and I never wanted her child."

　　"I did all of it so she'd hand over her designs and her competition spots to Serena Mason. The woman I love, the only woman I've ever loved, is Serena."

　　Outside the door, the color drained from Trudy's knuckles where they gripped the handle. Tears rolled down her face without a sound.

　　She had been Graystone City's most celebrated jewelry designer, until a car accident on her way to a competition took everything.

　　She'd been trapped in the wreckage for three hours. Zachary was the only one who heard her screams, the only one who rushed in without hesitation and pulled her out.

　　Afterward, he pursued her relentlessly. Grateful for the man who saved her life, she finally said yes.

　　But the accident had damaged her uterus, and the doctors said she would likely never conceive. The Simmons elders refused to let her through the door. Zachary knelt outside his family's home for three days and three nights before Judy grudgingly agreed.

　　After the wedding, her mother-in-law treated her like a hen that couldn't lay eggs, grinding her down day after day, ordering her around like a servant.

　　Zachary stood by her through all of it. He even defied his mother and moved them both out of the Simmons estate.

　　Then came the plagiarism accusation. The internet turned on her overnight. Thousands called her a fraud. One extremist showed up at her door with a knife, ready to kill her.

　　Zachary had pulled her into his arms and taken the blade for her. The scar on his back was still there, jagged and ugly.

　　Desperate to give him a child, Trudy volunteered for IVF. She was terrified of needles, but when the retrieval needle pierced her skin, she forced a smile. "Zach, it doesn't hurt."

　　His eyes went red instantly, his voice shaking so badly it barely held together. "Trudy, let's stop. Let's not have kids. Please."

　　"Even without children, I'll love you and protect you for the rest of my life. I'm never leaving."

　　Trudy had believed love could conquer anything. She thought what they had was the real thing, the kind that lasted forever.

　　Now she knew it was all a lie.

　　The accident was Zachary's doing. Her career was Zachary's doing. And she'd spent five years drowning in his lies, devoted heart and soul to the very man who destroyed her.

　　A bitter laugh escaped her. She forced down the metallic taste rising in her throat, the pain in her chest so sharp she could barely breathe.

　　Inside the study, the conversation went on.

　　"Your renewal ceremony is in a week. What's the plan? Is Serena really going to sit there and watch you marry Trudy?"

　　Zachary lowered his gaze. "The ceremony is compensation for Trudy."

　　"But Serena is the richest man's daughter, and she's carrying my child. I can't slight her either. So during the ceremony, I'll play Trudy's intimate videos on the screen. Once Serena sees that, she won't be upset."

　　"Of course, my real wife will only ever be Serena. As for Trudy, I'll divorce her and keep her in a villa somewhere."

　　"You're not worried she'll leave you over this?"

　　"Leave?"

　　Zachary let out a cold laugh. "She's an orphan with no family. I destroyed her career in jewelry design. Who else does she have besides me?"

　　"Besides, her precious Matron Grace's medical bills every month? She depends on me for that."

　　Trudy bit down on her lip until it went white.

　　Five years ago, she and Zachary were supposed to have a grand wedding. But her body had never fully recovered from the accident.

　　Zachary said he couldn't bear to see her push herself, that the stress of planning and hosting a wedding would be too much for her health.

　　Later, every time Trudy brought it up, Judy would find a reason to block it, and Zachary would say work made it impossible. The wedding kept getting pushed back.

　　But what woman hasn't dreamed of walking down the aisle?

　　Three days ago, she found a receipt for a couture wedding gown in Zachary's coat pocket. She thought it was his surprise for her.

　　She never imagined he planned to use the ceremony she'd waited years for to destroy her.

　　The realization settled through her like a stone dropping into dark water, and in its place, hatred surged.

　　What made Zachary think she could be controlled?

　　She would make him pay for every last thing he'd done.

　　She pulled out her phone. A message from the nation's wealthiest man glowed on the screen, and the faintest smile touched the corner of her lips.

　　Then she turned and walked away without looking back.

　　The paternity test confirms you are my biological daughter. If you're willing to come home, the Mason Group inheritance is yours.

　　Trudy didn't hesitate. Her fingers moved fast across the screen.

　　I'm willing to come home, but I need seven days to take care of things here. I also have two conditions.

　　First, bring Matron Grace abroad for medical treatment. Second, find the evidence that proves I was framed for plagiarism.

　　The reply came almost instantly.

　　Done.

　　Trudy had always known about Zachary's habit. He liked to organize anything important into a single folder, then lock it behind a password.

　　The next day, while Zachary was at the office, she slipped into his study.

　　She knew his computer password by heart. It was the pinyin of her surname plus her birthday.

　　But when she hit enter, the screen flashed: Incorrect password.

　　Her heart stuttered. She typed in Zachary's birthday instead. Incorrect password.

　　She typed in Serena's birthday. The computer unlocked.

　　Zachary had once promised that every password he ever set would have something to do with her.

　　Now his computer password was Serena.

　　She swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat and began searching through the files.

　　She found it. A folder labeled Private Photos.

　　Her fingers trembled over the keyboard. She entered Serena's birthday, and the folder opened.

　　Inside were videos of her and Zachary together, intimate, filmed in every corner of their life.

　　His appetite had always been insatiable. Five years of marriage, and he was constantly pulling her into one place after another.

　　The living room. The kitchen. The bathroom. The car. Even a shadowed alcove in some alley.

　　She had believed he wanted her so desperately because he loved her. So she endured the discomfort, every single time, and gave him what he asked for.

　　But he was planning to play these videos at the wedding. All of it, just to keep Serena from getting upset.

　　Her hand dragged the mouse across the screen, slow and stiff, and she deleted every last file. Her rigid body sagged, collapsing inward like something had finally given way.

　　She closed her eyes and let the tears slide down her face.

　　She was about to shut down the computer and leave when the study door slammed open.

　　Zachary spotted her. His brow furrowed. "What are you doing in here?"

　　Serena rushed past him to the computer. One glance at the screen and her expression twisted. "The jewelry designs for Fox Group are gone."

　　She rounded on Trudy. "Miss Wren, our entire team spent a month on that proposal. Why would you delete it?"

　　"I didn't!" Trudy shot back on instinct. "There were no design files on the computer when I opened it."

　　Serena let out a cold laugh. "Nobody else has been in this study. If it wasn't you, then who?"

　　The last trace of patience drained from Zachary's face.

　　"Serena is the daughter of the richest man in the country. You think she'd stoop to framing you?"

　　"Since she joined the Simmons Group, she's done nothing but give everything she has. She personally asked her father to secure this partnership, just to help us break into the high-end jewelry market."

　　"And now, because of you, it's all ruined."

　　He stepped forward, closing the distance between them. "Someone lock my wife in the basement. She can reflect on what she's done."

　　Trudy's gaze snapped up, disbelief flooding her face. Her voice came out raw. "Zachary, you know I'm claustrophobic."

　　Five years ago, after the car accident, she had been trapped inside the wreckage for three hours. She'd suffered from severe claustrophobia ever since.

　　Serena suddenly placed her hand over Zachary's.

　　"Let it go. Miss Wren hasn't worked in jewelry design for years. Maybe she deleted the files by accident."

　　"I'll just call Daddy and ask him to push the deadline back a few days. It'll be fine."

　　At that, Zachary visibly relaxed.

　　He clasped Serena's hand tightly. "Thank God for you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

　　Then he turned to Trudy, his voice flat and hard.

　　"Thank her. Now. Unless you'd rather spend the night in the basement."

　　Trudy's body went rigid. Then a sharp, hollow laugh escaped her.

　　"Thank her for what?"

　　"For stealing my husband? For setting me up?"

　　"Or should I thank her for getting pregnant with my husband's child?"

　　Zachary's expression shifted. "When did you find out?"

　　"Since you already know, I won't bother hiding it. Serena is the daughter of the wealthiest man in the country, and she's carrying my child. The position of Mrs. Simmons belongs to her."

　　"Sign the divorce papers. Now."

　　He had braced himself for a scene. Screaming. Begging. A refusal to sign.

　　But Trudy took the papers calmly, picked up the pen, and signed her name without a word.

　　Trudy's expression was perfectly calm as she signed. Zachary's brow furrowed. Something about that composure unsettled him, left a sour taste he couldn't name.

　　Serena took the signed divorce papers, a flash of triumph in her eyes.

　　She looped her arm through Zachary's, her voice honeyed and soft.

　　"Zach, since the divorce is finalized, why not have Miss Wren move out tonight?"

　　Zachary was about to refuse, but then he looked up and saw Trudy's face, utterly indifferent, as if none of this mattered to her at all. A sudden, nameless anger flared in his chest.

　　"Fine," he said coldly. "Handle it however you want."

　　Serena's lips curled. She immediately directed the servants to pack up all of Trudy's belongings.

　　Trudy felt nothing. She didn't want to stay in this house a second longer.

　　A clean exit was exactly what she wanted.

　　But when the servants finished packing her luggage, they didn't bring it to her. They hauled everything into the storage room instead.

　　Serena gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth. "Oh my, what are you all doing?"

　　"This is Miss Wren's luggage! How could you toss it in with all that junk?"

　　She turned to Trudy with an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry. I had them do a deep clean of the house, and some trash got piled in there temporarily. They must have assumed your things were part of it..."

　　"Miss Wren, would you mind grabbing your bags yourself?"

　　Trudy's jaw tightened. She had always dreaded places like storage rooms, dark and cramped.

　　But there were things she had to take with her.

　　Her IDs. And the protective charm Matron Grace had given her.

　　She walked to the storage room doorway and spotted her documents and clothes tossed in the far corner.

　　She crouched down, gathered her IDs, and was about to leave.

　　The door slammed shut behind her.

　　The light vanished. She spun toward the window, but wooden boards had been nailed across it. Only thin slivers of light bled through the cracks.

　　Her heart hammered. Her breathing went shallow and fast.

　　She threw herself at the door, pounding on it with both fists. "Let me out!"

　　She beat the wood until her hands were swollen and raw. No one answered.

　　The force of her pounding shook her phone loose from her pocket.

　　She grabbed it like a lifeline and clutched it with both hands.

　　She called the only emergency contact saved in her phone.

　　The line rang for a full minute before anyone picked up.

　　Her voice broke, echoing off the walls of the storage room. "Zachary, help me..."

　　"I'm locked in the storage room. My stomach hurts so bad..."

　　She whimpered, her back sliding down the door until she hit the floor. A dragging pain tore through her lower abdomen, and cold sweat soaked through her clothes.

　　What answered her was a breathy, feminine moan.

　　"Zach... I'm pregnant. Be gentle."

　　Then the slick, unmistakable sounds of bodies together.

　　The line went dead.

　　The phone slipped from her fingers and cracked against the floor. Every trace of color drained from Trudy's face.

　　She pulled the corner of her mouth into something that might have been a smile. A bitter, broken thing. Laughing at her own stupidity.

　　She had actually hoped Zachary would come save her. She had actually still held on to a shred of hope for that man.

　　She reached down and picked the phone back up, tried to call her father. The screen lit for two seconds and went black. Dead.

　　She watched the last pinpoint of light on the screen dissolve into darkness, and the anguish and panic inside her clawed at each other, shredding her from the inside.

　　She lost control. She beat the door with her fists, raked her nails down the wood, scratching and tearing until her fingers screamed. Toward the end, she wanted nothing more than to crack her skull against it and make everything stop.

　　Then the pain in her abdomen surged, sharper, worse, and the metallic smell of blood hit her nose.

　　She forced herself still. She choked down the terror, made herself sit quietly, terrified of disturbing the tiny life inside her.

　　Trudy had once believed her child would be born into a world where both its parents were waiting with open arms.

　　Reality had struck her across the face.

　　She knew this baby had come at the worst possible time. If Zachary found out, he wouldn't welcome it.

　　But she wanted to keep this child.

　　Not because of Zachary.

　　Trudy had grown up in an orphanage. The one thing she had dreamed of her entire life was having someone connected to her by blood.

　　She had found her birth parents now, it was true.

　　But this small life growing inside her was something she could not let go of either.

　　She sat slumped on the floor with her eyes closed, the terror of the dark, suffocating space and the dragging pain in her abdomen twisting together, tormenting her without a single moment's reprieve.

　　Then a sound outside the door.

　　"Who's in there?"

　　"Trudy? Is that you?"

　　Light sparked in her eyes. She opened her mouth, but her voice came out wrecked, barely recognizable.

　　"It's me. Get me... out."

　　Outside, Zachary's brow creased. His hand was reaching for the door handle when Serena called out to him.

　　"Zach, Miss Wren should've left with her things ages ago. It's probably just a stray cat in there."

　　She buried her face against his chest. "Zach, I'm allergic to cat hair. Let's go, please. There's a window in there. The cat will find its way out."

　　A cat's meow drifted from behind the door.

　　He relaxed.

　　He wrapped his arm around Serena and walked away. "I'll have the servants clear out the strays tomorrow."

　　Trudy bit down on her lip so hard it bled. Tears fell, hitting the floor one after another.

　　She screamed with everything she had. "Zachary, it's me!"

　　"It's not a cat. Help me. Save our baby..."

　　Zachary stopped. "That does sound like Trudy. I can hear her voice."

　　Something vicious flickered behind Serena's eyes. She softened her tone. "Zach, even if it is Miss Wren, one night in the storage room won't hurt her."

　　"I have a surprise for you tonight. Don't you want to see it?"

　　Zachary's throat bobbed. "Fine."

　　The last spark of hope in Trudy's eyes went out. She listened, helpless, as Zachary carried Serena farther and farther away.

　　Then everything blurred. Consciousness slipped, and the darkness swallowed her whole.