Three days later, at Juan’s request, Susan accompanied him to a project event.

In the car, Susan finally submitted her resignation.

But Juan didn’t even glance at it; he simply signed. Susan instinctively asked, “Don’t you want to take a look?”

“They’re just some unimportant documents you’ve been assigned to handle,” Juan replied flatly, pinching his temple. “I’m too lazy to read.”

Susan smiled and said nothing more.

When they arrived at the restaurant and sat down, Ashley plopped down beside Juan, who carefully poured her tea.

Mr. Chuck, a business partner, smiled and said, “Is this your wife? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Juan didn’t deny it but simply gave a faint smile. Susan quietly sat in the corner, feeling insignificant—treated like a mere intern.

The middle-aged man next to her repeatedly took advantage of the situation by toasting her.

Juan seemed oblivious. He was preoccupied with shielding Ashley from drinking. “She’s allergic to alcohol and can’t drink,” he said.

Mr. Chuck looked displeased. “Mr. Parkston, since we’re sincerely discussing cooperation and Mrs. Parkston isn’t drinking a single glass—isn’t that a bit disrespectful to me?”

“If you want Mrs. Parkston to drink your glass of wine, fine.” Juan raised his eyelids and waved at Susan. “She’s my wife, Susan.”

The atmosphere at the table froze and almost everyone turned their eyes toward the corner. Juan had acknowledged her identity only to use her to shield Ashley from drinking.

But Juan had completely forgotten that Susan had given up alcohol long ago—after drinking herself into gastric bleeding earlier that year to secure a project. Mr. Chuck placed a bottle of baijiu directly in front of her.

“Mr. Parkston, I specifically asked Miss Ashley to drink with me, but you wanted to change her,” he said. “Since we’re changing, then naturally the number of glasses must change as well.”

“This bottle—half for you and half for me. Isn’t that fair?”

Susan clenched her glass tightly and instinctively glanced at Juan. She hoped he would say something—anything—in her favor.

But all she saw was Juan’s indifferent face and concerned tone, “Next time there are occasions like this, always bring Susan with you. She’s quite the drinker.”

Susan smiled sadly and downed the entire bottle of alcohol in one go. Not for any noble reason, but because she’d followed this project for two years.

There were only a dozen days left before the divorce cooling-off period ended. She wanted to wrap up the project properly before leaving.

By the end of the drink, her stomach was burning and even Susan’s breath smelled of rust and blood. But without anyone telling her to stop, she didn’t dare. She drank cup after cup, her vision spinning, until she finally couldn’t hold back and vomited violently.

Amidst the filth, a glaring red pool appeared.

Everyone panicked. “Susan, are you okay? You’ve been drinking until you vomited blood!”

Finally, Susan saw Juan’s expression change drastically. He suddenly stood up and rushed toward her.

A colleague grabbed Susan’s arm, eyes filled with helplessness.

“Susan, tell me—you're about to resign. Why are you drinking like this?”

“Resign?” Juan’s voice suddenly exploded from behind. “What do you mean by resign?”

Susan was forced to look up, meeting Juan’s dark, stormy gaze.

His face was livid. “Susan, are you resigning?”

Susan was terrified and instinctively concealed the truth. “No. He got the wrong person. It’s another assistant who’s resigning.”

Juan’s brow furrowed, but before he could press further, the door suddenly burst open.

Ashley appeared—her hair disheveled, her slip dress torn, revealing a glimpse of her body. Her eyes were red and filled with tears, making her look pitiful.

“Juan, save me!” she screamed. “Someone’s trying to rape me!”

She collapsed into Juan’s arms, trembling and feverish.

“My water was drugged. If I hadn’t stabbed myself, I wouldn’t have been able to face you again!”

Juan then noticed the shallow cut on Ashley’s palm. Blood flowed and his expression darkened with rage.

“What are you all standing there for? Go catch them!”

Juan immediately tore off his shirt, cut pieces of white cloth with scissors and wrapped them around Ashley’s wound.

Susan still remembered that shirt. It was the one Juan had worn at their wedding—a limited edition, high-end model she had purchased after traveling through countless countries. He’d said he would cherish it. Now, he had destroyed it with his own hands.

Susan lowered her eyes, hiding the glint of mockery within them. The alleged culprit was dragged in by the bodyguards and thrown at Ashley’s feet.

Ashley screamed in fear. “It’s him! It’s him! He almost ruined my innocence!”

The man was doused with a bucket of ice water, snapping him out of his drunken state. After realizing what had happened, he collapsed, pale and horrified.

“I—I’m innocent, Mr. Parkston! I was drugged and I lost control of myself. It was this bottle of liquor. After I drank it…”

Suddenly, he straightened up and pointed at Susan, “It was her! It was this woman who drugged Miss Tisdale and me—and had someone lock us in the same room. She did all this on purpose!”

At that moment, Juan trembled, his hawk-like gaze narrowing on Susan. Her stomach churned and she remained slumped on the floor, stunned.

Looking up, she met Ashley’s half-smile—sinister and cold—and instantly understood everything.

This was another trap.

In fact, there were many details that pointed to Susan’s innocence. But Juan didn’t believe her.

So, no matter what she said, it was a capital crime.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Juan looked down at her, his voice laced with disappointment. “Susan, you’re a stranger to me right now.”

“To avoid divorcing me, you’ve resorted to such disgusting tactics. Have you ever considered how Ashley will cope after you’ve ruined her innocence?”

Susan was drenched in cold sweat from the pain. She had no strength to argue. She closed her eyes, exhausted.

“Whatever you think,” she said in a low voice.

Juan flung everything off the table with a deafening crash. His eyes blazed with terrifying rage.

“Well, even after all this, you still don’t repent. In that case, let’s give her a taste of her own medicine! Come on—pour all this liquor into her stomach!”

Susan froze, staring at Juan in disbelief, almost questioning her own sanity. She had already bled from her stomach. To vent his anger over Ashley, he actually tried to force more laced liquor into her body?

“No,” Susan rasped, shaking her head. “Juan, I’ll die…”

Susan’s mouth was pried open. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t stop the burning liquor from flooding into her stomach. She spat blood against the wall before collapsing into unconsciousness. Her last sight was Juan’s retreating back, walking away without the slightest hesitation.

Susan couldn’t help but smile in despair and wondered in silence, Juan, do you really love me? If you do, would you truly be willing to treat me like this?

Opening her eyes, Susan felt a pair of rough hands groping her. Someone covered her mouth and a sharp slap across her face made her ears ring. "This woman is really something. If she hadn’t been drugged, how would we have gotten our turn?"

Susan then realized the primal desire surging within her body. She couldn’t help but curl up. Her eyes bloodshot, she bit down hard on the man’s hand. With a loud crack, he slapped her again.

"Easy! Mr. Parkston told us to play around, not kill her!"

Hearing that, a chill ran down Susan’s spine. It was him. It was actually him... Susan couldn’t help but laugh softly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

As the sickening stench hit her face, Susan steeled herself and rammed her head into him. She somehow found the strength to tear off the rag covering her eyes, grabbed a nearby vase and smashed it over the man's head with all her might.

Before bolting from the room, Susan caught a glimpse of a familiar face. She remembered that man. He was Ashley’s cousin.

Stumbling home in a disheveled mess, Susan couldn’t wait to tell Juan the truth. But as she approached, the frantic sounds of breathing and moaning sent her spiraling into a whirlwind of despair.

"No, no more..." Juan’s voice was hoarse, frantic and lost in confusion. "No more? Didn’t you ask me to help you with the antidote?"

Susan stood frozen, stunned, feeling like the whole situation was beyond absurd. Her husband was administering the antidote to another woman, while she had just barely escaped a horrifying assault.

She no longer expected Juan to help her uncover the truth. For the next ten days, she reviewed surveillance footage, called the police and received treatment for her injuries at the hospital. She handled everything on her own.

One by one, she tore off the calendar pages. The date of her divorce approached closer and closer.

Finally, with only seven days left before her departure, Susan gathered all the evidence. She was determined to clear her name before she walked away for good.

She returned to the villa and laid everything out in front of Juan, "Juan, it wasn’t me who drugged her that night. It was Ashley’s cousin."

Unexpectedly, she was met with suffocating silence.

Ashley’s body went limp, her expression shifting through confusion and disbelief. "How is that possible?"

Susan pointed at her face, her voice trembling with fury. "Ashley, don’t pretend. You conspired with your cousin and let him do this to me..."

Before she could finish, Juan cut her off impatiently, "So what?"

Those two simple words, cold and dismissive, struck Susan like a blow to the chest. Her eyes widened in disbelief before tears spilled over.

"I’m going to call the police. She framed me. Slandered me. I can’t let this go."

Ashley began to sob, her voice trembling. "Susan, you misunderstood. I really don’t know anything! My cousin—he just wanted to help me. He acted on his own... Juan, he did this for my sake. Please, don’t hurt him, okay?"

"I only have this one brother. If anything happens to him, I won’t want to live anymore!" Ashley said, ready to slam her head against the wall.

Juan pulled her into his arms. His expression darkened and he nearly roared, "Enough! Don’t you just want to divorce me? Why are you making up so many excuses to mess with me?"

Juan closed his eyes and let out a sharp breath, "Fine, I promise. As long as you stop stirring things up, I’ll go with you to cancel the divorce registration in a few days. Is that okay?"

He looked as if he was conceding everything.

But Susan only sneered, "What if I insist on suing?"

A flash of disgust crossed Juan’s eyes, "Then I’ll send Ashley’s cousin abroad before you do."

He turned to Ashley with unwavering tenderness, "Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to your cousin."

"Take her. Lock the lady in the basement first. No one is to let her out without my permission!"

Susan stumbled as the bodyguard dragged her away, slamming her against the wall. She let out a burst of hollow laughter, tears slipping freely down her face.

Before being shoved into the basement, Juan caught sight of her devastated expression—and a sharp pang pierced his heart. He opened his mouth, as if to say something more.

But Ashley had already taken his hand. "Juan, let’s take my cousin to the airport now, okay?"

Juan looked away, unable to dwell on the strange heaviness rising inside him because of Susan.

She loved him so deeply. She had always forgiven him. Just like how she had forgiven his 99 betrayals.