“You finally made up your mind!”

Captain Dickerson's voice burst through the phone, barely containing his excitement.

“I always said a criminal investigation talent like you shouldn't be wasting away at this precinct. But the division you're transferring into is special. Highly classified, completely off the books.”

“You need to understand what you're agreeing to. Once you sign that agreement, you cease to exist. Your name, your past, every social connection you've ever had will be erased.”

“I understand.” Marian lowered her eyes. Her voice was flat, still as dead water.

She had turned it down before without a second thought, because she believed Herman needed her.

Now there was no reason to stay.

“All right. Get your things in order. You leave in three days.”

She hung up and sat curled on the curb, alone, through the entire night.

Dawn had barely begun to lighten the sky when she dragged herself, bone-tired, back to the basement apartment. Less than three hundred square feet.

The place was crumbling, damp, paint peeling off the walls in strips. No windows.

Marian stood in the narrow entryway and looked around the room. No heat, either.

She almost laughed.

As the top forensic and investigative specialist at the precinct, she could have lived comfortably. More than comfortably.

But her salary always ended up in Herman's hands, drained away under one excuse or another.

Every few days he managed to get himself into some new disaster. Scratching someone's luxury car. Injuring a pedestrian badly enough to cause permanent disability……

In the end, every dollar she had saved over the years went into the bottomless pit of his debts, spent down to nothing.

She unlocked her phone. The image hit her like a blade: Herman with his arm around Sandra, walking back into the James estate together.

A glaring headline sat pinned at the top of the page.

【James Heir Sets Aside Blood Feud for Love, Willingly Accepts His Mother's Killer as Stepmother!】

Her fingertips were ice-cold. She opened a social media app and found Sandra's account with no effort at all.

Then she scrolled, punishing herself with every post.

Valentine's Day. Sandra beaming in front of a wall of 9,999 roses Herman had sent her.

That same day, Marian had been cornered in a filthy alley by men Herman sent, beaten until she couldn't stand.

Sandra's birthday. Herman had booked an entire private island for her. She sat at a table overflowing with delicacies, grinning as she held up a lobster the length of her arm.

That same day, Marian's freshly deposited paycheck had been siphoned off by Herman to cover yet another one of his messes. Penniless, she had gone to the farmer's market to fight with beggars over wilted vegetables no one else wanted……

Her grip on the phone tightened until her knuckles went white. Tears fell, heavy and fast, shattering against the screen.

She sat there from daylight into deep night.

The lock clicked.

Herman walked in wearing the same threadbare plumber's uniform he always came home in, a different man entirely from the one in the tailored suit that morning.

He saw her still sitting on the bed. His brow creased, and he opened his mouth to speak.

Marian thrust Sandra's profile page toward him, her voice cold and level.

“Stop pretending.”

Caught, Herman stiffened for a fraction of a second, so brief it was almost invisible. Then his expression loosened back into easy indifference.

He glanced at Sandra's page without interest, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“Look how gullible that woman is. Toss her a few scraps and she's over the moon.”

“When I got thrown out of the James family, she turned her back on me without blinking. Now her family's fallen apart, and it's the perfect time to settle old scores. You think I actually want her? Once I get bored, I'll kick her to the curb and let her find out what it feels like to be abandoned.”

He turned toward Marian and reached out, brushing his fingers across her brow. His voice went soft, dripping with tenderness that rang hollow.

“You know you're the only one I've ever loved.”

Marian slapped his hand away. ：“So that's why you went crawling back and made peace with the family? Herman, how can you face your mother? That woman had both her kidneys cut out of her, and you're calling her killer 'Mom'?”

“And what about me?!”

She paused, then said, ice in every syllable:

“I despise you.”

A flash of anger crossed Herman's face.

“The James empire was always mine!” He kicked the stool beside him and sent it crashing across the floor, his voice climbing. “I am the rightful James heir. You expect me to give up that kind of fortune and rot in this filthy, stinking basement with you forever? I am sick of living like this!”

He ripped the threadbare work jacket off his body and hurled it to the ground, then jabbed a finger at Marian. Undisguised revulsion filled his eyes.

“Look at you. You reek of poverty from three blocks away. You're not even fit to carry my shoes.”

Marian was shaking so hard she could barely stand.

She stared at the snarling stranger in front of her and could not recognize a single thing about him.

Was this the same man who used to make her porridge, who would crouch down to tie her shoelaces, who stayed up with her through late shifts even when he could barely keep his eyes open?

Something in her expression must have registered, because Herman's tone softened again.

He gathered her onto the bed and held her, stroking her back.

“When I lost everything, my friends, my uncles, even my fiancée all turned their backs on me. You were the only one who stood by me. I won't forget that. Bringing Sandra back is only about revenge, nothing more. Marian, you're my wife.”

“Besides, I went back to the James family for our future. Think about it. Once I take the company back, you'll be Mrs. James. No more hiding in this basement. No more running from the people trying to kill you. Isn't that what you want?”

Marian said nothing.

The room went dark. Beside her, he drifted off to sleep.

His arm lay across her waist like a brand fresh from the fire, burning so deep it scorched her soul.

She lay with her eyes wide open, staring at the pitch-black ceiling while cold seeped in from every direction, burrowing into the cracks between her bones.

The next day, Marian went to the precinct and finished her handover.

She let out a long breath. One more day, and she would be gone for good.

Back at the apartment, she began packing her things.

Herman's footsteps sounded behind her without warning.

Her heart lurched. She spun around.

“Marian, why are you packing?”

Marian forced herself to stay calm, keeping her voice flat. ：“It's nothing……”

Before she could finish, Herman stormed over, his face dark with rage.

Her chest tightened. She thought he'd found out.

Instead, he seized her wrist.

“Did you tell Sandra about us?”

She froze, unable to process the question.

“She's gone! No one can find her anywhere! Do you have any idea she's pregnant? She can't handle this kind of shock. How could you be so vicious?!”

Sandra was pregnant?!

Before she could think it through, the pain clamping down on her wrist made her gasp. She shook her head.

“I don't know what you're talking about! I never said a word to her!”

“Still lying! Go! Find her and bring her back right now! And apologize! If anything happens to Sandra or that baby, I will never forgive you!”

He dragged her toward the door without giving her time to put on shoes.

Marian stumbled out of the villa and into the car as it tore off.

Herman burned through every connection he had before they finally tracked Sandra down to a seedy bar tucked in a dark corner of the city.

The lighting was low and suggestive, the air thick with liquor, perfume, and sweat.

Shadows tangled in every corner, laughter mingling with whispers.

Through layers of pulsing neon haze, Marian spotted Sandra on the stage immediately.

Barefoot, Sandra dropped to her knees in front of the pole and rose again like a cat, all sinuous provocation, drawing wild screams and sharp whistles from the crowd below.

She looked nothing like the innocent girl she usually played. Heavy makeup, a cigarette pinched between her fingers, trading easy flirtation with the men around her as if she'd done it a thousand times.

Marian could feel the fury radiating off Herman beside her. His knuckles were white, his jaw locked so tight the muscle twitched.

He couldn't hold back any longer. He charged onto the stage in long, violent strides, ignoring the uproar around him, and yanked Sandra hard into his arms. Those eyes, burning with rage, swept the room like a threat aimed at every man who dared look her way.

Sandra shoved against his chest and broke free, her expression mocking. “What do you care?”

Herman's face went ashen. He snatched the cigarette from her hand and crushed it, his voice a low snarl：“You're carrying my child. How the hell do I not care?!”

Sandra laughed, but her eyes reddened almost instantly.

“A child? You have Marian Pruitt. What do you still need me for?”

She clapped both hands over her face, her shoulders shaking violently, tears spilling in heavy drops.

“You're with the one person I hate most in this world. I should have known. You only did this to punish me for leaving you back then. And I was stupid enough to still hope.”

She wrenched out a crumpled termination report and hurled it at Herman.

“You did this. You killed our baby!”

Herman grabbed the report, his eyes raking over it. He staggered back half a step as though the ground had been knocked out from under him.

Marian had never seen Herman lose control like this. His eyes were raw red, and tears fell without warning.

A sound tore from his throat, strangled and barely human.

“How dare you……that was my child too!”

The next second, he lunged forward like a man unhinged, scooping Sandra up despite her thrashing and cursing, and carried her out. Ruthless. Absolute.

A bodyguard locked onto Marian from behind, gripping her arms and forcing her into the car after them.

They returned to the villa.

Herman turned his head. “Brenda.”

A woman descended from upstairs.

Brenda Marsh had been the late Mrs. James's most trusted enforcer.

Back when the old Mrs. James cleaned house, no one could count how many mistresses had their faces ruined by those hands.

Herman's gaze settled on Marian, heavy and cold.

Brenda understood at once.

She closed the distance in quick strides, seized a fistful of Marian's hair, and wrenched her toward the door. “Shameless little homewrecker, showing your face here? Have you got no shame? Young as you are and already whoring yourself out as some man's side piece!”

Marian's entire body seized with shock. She stared at Herman, disbelief carved into every line of her face.

He pretended not to see the plea in her eyes. He turned his head away, and that silence was answer enough.

She opened her mouth to speak, but a slap cracked across her face and snapped her head to the side.

Brenda's shrill, contemptuous voice filled her ears.

“What kind of trash are you? You actually think you deserve to be Mrs. James? Take a good look in the mirror before you dream that big!”

“Get over here! Beat her!”

The words had barely left her mouth before several heavyset women rolled up their sleeves and closed in.

Before Marian could beg for mercy, the blows came down like hail.

Her back, her stomach, her shoulders. Every hit was savage and deliberate.

The pain tore through her limbs and spread to every nerve. Marian doubled over, biting down on her lip so hard she tasted copper, choking back the scream clawing up her throat.

Her strength drained away drop by drop. Her consciousness peeled loose from her body.

When Marian came to, she was lying on the floor of an abandoned warehouse.

A wrenching cramp rolled through her lower abdomen, followed by a hollow, sinking weight. Something warm and wet seeped down her inner thighs in a steady, terrible stream.

One of the women had stomped on her stomach over and over, grinding her heel in.

Marian knew what was happening. She just watched in silence.

Her chest felt ice-cold. She curled forward slowly, pressing her fist against her breastbone as hard as she could, and the pain spread inch by suffocating inch until it filled every part of her.

Once again, she had failed to protect her child.

Voices drifted in from outside the door. The same women.

“Did we……go too far just now? The way she looked, I think she might have miscarried……”

“Good riddance! Even if she'd carried it to term, it'd be nothing but a bastard. The James family would never claim it. A shameless homewrecker like her doesn't deserve to carry James blood.”

“Mr. James said it himself. Only Miss Fox is the rightful Mrs. James. That Marian Pruitt is just some mistress he kept on the side.”

The moment their voices fell away, the sky exploded with fireworks, enormous blooms of color bursting one after another.

Two envious gasps followed.

“So the rumors were true. Mr. James really is devoted to Miss Fox. Apparently he's setting off fireworks over the harbor tonight after the proposal.”

“No kidding. Yesterday he dropped eighty million dollars to donate a massive gold Buddha statue to a temple in Miss Fox's name. Said he wanted to build up her karma and have it blessed by thousands of worshippers.”

“And here we are, stuck babysitting the side piece. Just our luck.”

One of them spat in Marian's direction. “Disgusting.”

Marian's fingers curled inward. The blood between her legs pooled wider.

The fireworks kept erupting across the sky, massive clusters trailing white-hot embers that drifted down like burning snow.

The dry straw beside the warehouse caught first, a few licking flames that leapt and spread in seconds, devouring everything around them.

“Fire! It's on fire! Run!”

“What about her?”

“Forget her! If she dies, she dies. Mr. James won't blame us!”

The building crumbled in on itself with a chorus of snapping wood and roaring flame. Smoke filled Marian's lungs, dragging her under, and the edges of everything went soft and dark.

Survival instinct moved her hand before her mind could. She fumbled for her phone and dialed Herman's number.

It didn't go through. She called again. And again. On the fifth try, the line connected.

What she heard on the other end shocked her fully awake.

Sandra was pinned beneath someone, her voice breathy and petulant, half moaning and half indignant.

“You bastard……don't touch me!”

She let out a cold laugh. ：“I heard you had someone rough up Marian Pruitt. What new trick is this to win me over? After what her family did to mine back then, I bet you enjoyed every second of it.”

“I'm telling you right now, I will never bear your children. Not even if I die first.”

Herman's voice was languid, thick with desire.

“Why do you think I was ever with her? It was all for you. For your revenge. A piece of trash like that doesn't deserve to stand next to me.” He scoffed. “I had people beat her for a full year. Every time, they stopped just short of killing her. I kept her breathing so you could take your time with her later.”

He paused. When he spoke again, his tone dropped, heavy with possessive displeasure. “If you won't have my children, then whose will you have? If you let another man so much as touch you, I'll lock you away and I won't stop until you give me what I want.”

Before she could answer, he crushed his mouth over hers. “The only woman who will carry my children is you.”

The warehouse was swallowed whole by fire now, the blaze climbing higher and higher, but Marian felt nothing but cold. Cold all the way through, down to the marrow.

Enough, she told herself.

Why had she ever expected anything from him?

She hung up. She curled into herself and let the flames roll over her, burning until even her soul was ash.