I could not break free, so I gave up and stared blankly into the air.

In a voice only he and I could hear, I whispered, “It was you who said you would go to hell with me.”

At those words, Easton’s body went stiff.

The next day, Emma was gone without a trace. I went to see Easton at once and asked, “Where is she?”

He lowered his head, his voice heavy.

“Emma has already lost the child and carries nothing. We do not need to stain ourselves with another life or bring useless trouble.”

I remembered when a group of thugs mocked me as a shameless bastard, and Easton had broken their legs without pause, snapping their necks, his robe soaked in red.

So whether it was truly needless, or only that he could not bear it, he knew in his heart.

“Where is she really?” I asked again, my voice rising.

He stayed silent, and after a long pause, he finally said, “I will give you an answer.”

The bloodshot eyes he once had when standing for me seemed to overlap with this moment. I smashed everything in the hall to pieces.

My men searched for Emma, but Easton had hidden her too well and left no trace. That same night, his explanation arrived.

When I opened the box, I saw a small finger stained with blood. I knew it at once as his, for the finger still wore our wedding ring.

It was a rule I had made that if one made a mistake, cutting off a finger could serve as forgiveness.

He had used his own finger to save Emma, begging me to show mercy.

The box crashed hard to the ground, shards of glass scattering across the floor.

Yet Easton would never have thought that the woman he spared with all his strength would still come at me without fear.

Emma sent me a video.

“I heard you have been looking for me. I also want to see you. But Easton cannot bear to let me out; he has been tormenting me day and night.”

The video played like a cruel show. Easton no longer carried the cold restraint he once had. His face was red, his features filled with desire and haste, and beneath him lay a blushing Emma.

With every movement and rough sound, his robe and his so-called vows were torn apart, prayer beads scattering on the ground.

I gripped my phone until my knuckles turned white. All those vows were nothing but lies.

We had known each other for more than ten years, and we had been married for four. Each time I lay on his body, he would turn cold, carefully pull my clothes back on, then disappear into the bathroom for the whole night.

“Easton told me about your condition, poor thing. But you cannot blame him for not touching you, after all, he fears catching dirty sickness.”

So he still saw me as dirty.

The boy who once held me and wept, swearing I was the purest, had only been wearing a mask.

He had always been trapped by that stain, and that was why he never touched me.

I stayed calm and said nothing, but in secret, I had people track Emma’s place through the video.

Just as I was about to lead my men over, a message froze me in place. That man was not dead.

[Tisha, that beast is in the hands of those across from us.]

Idiot. No wonder he faked his death; he had become another’s dog, crawling low to live.

That night, I led my brothers to surround the enemy’s ground.

Under a sky with no moon and heavy wind, I fought in the chaos, brushing shoulders with death, watching my brothers fall one by one, the pain cutting deep to the bone.

After three hours of bloodshed, the enemy was left in ruins.

I dragged my stepfather out from under the bed, where he had hidden.

After more than ten years, he still looked the same, fat, dirty, and shabby.

His face bent with flattery as he stared at me, wagging like a dog and begging, “Daughter, long time no see…”

Before he could finish, I kicked him hard and sent him flying. “Who’s your daughter? Disgusting!”

He rolled across the floor, skidding to a stop, then struggled up, messy and pitiful.

“Back then, I was taken by evil, that is why I tied you in the street, that is why you were shamed and torn by dogs… Now I truly know I was wrong.”

Each word cut into me like a whip. Rage burned away all reason. I pulled out a gun and aimed at his head.

One shot would end him, and my painful past would be buried for good. But suddenly his fear faded, and he laughed with triumph.

I frowned instantly. Turning my head, I saw a man dragging Emma over as a hostage.

“Dear daughter, didn’t expect I’d still have a backup, did you?” he said, threat dripping from his voice.

“As long as you give me money and let me go, I guarantee this woman will be safe. Otherwise, she won’t see tomorrow’s sun.”

When I saw Emma, my lips curved. “Foolish and ignorant. You didn’t even check that this woman is my enemy. Truly, thank you, father.”

I raised the gun again and aimed at his forehead. “Perfect. Let me kill two birds with one stone.”

Seeing that I was truly fearless, my stepfather panicked, and his face twisted with disbelief. “If you dare kill me, this woman will surely die before me!”

I raised an eyebrow. “Then go ahead and try.”

As I was about to pull the trigger, I felt cold pressure at my waist crawl across my back.

A gun barrel was pressed against me from behind.

Then a voice I knew rang out, “Let your people release Emma, and I will let you go.”

In disbelief, I turned my head and saw the cold, ruthless Easton. When his eyes met mine, he quickly looked away. In a voice just for us, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Betrayal hit me like falling into a cold pond, struggling blindly, and then drowning in hopelessness.

Seeing me held by one of my own, my stepfather laughed up at the sky.

“Didn’t expect it, Tisha, you’d have a day like this too!” He nodded at Easton with satisfaction. “Very good.”

Easton had clearly known my pain before. That year, a simple rope had crushed my dignity, the rope tight around my neck, my clothes torn as I was dragged down the street like a dog.

Back then, he had rushed in recklessly, beating my stepfather without caring for his own life, and even when he was beaten down and barely breathing, he still dragged me forward without stopping.

But now all of that past felt like a bullet pressed to my forehead in this moment. While Easton held me, my stepfather broke free of my bonds and fled in a panic.

I stared hard at my stepfather’s back, bloodlust burning in my eyes.

By my ear came Easton’s soft words, “Tisha, there will be another chance.”

No. There would never be another chance.

The next moment, while Easton was not watching, I raised my gun and aimed at the enemy.

A shot rang out, and blood sprayed. Watching my stepfather fall heavily to the ground, I smiled with relief.

All those who had hurt me would never escape, and when my stepfather’s men saw me kill him, they fired at Emma, but in that instant, Easton moved.

That man died, yet in the pool of blood, Easton held Emma tight, his face twisted with pain and fear, overlapping with the boy who once shielded me as he cried, “Emma, don’t scare me, don’t scare me…”

After the fight, my body was battered and weak, and standing was only me forcing myself, but he never once saw the wounds that covered me. I stared at him and Emma, and to my surprise, my heart no longer stirred.

Then a sudden pain struck the back of my neck, and I fell at once, and before my eyes closed, I saw the hatred burning in Easton’s gaze, sending a chill through my heart.

When I woke, I was already in my own room, but unlike before, the door was locked, and when I saw the man bringing food, I let out a cold laugh.

I did not even know when it began, but all of my people had already become Easton’s men.

“Tisha, these are the dishes you like. If it is not enough, I…” This was a man I had once promoted myself to.

I looked at him coldly and asked, “Is that woman dead?”

He froze, and after a long pause, he forced the words out, “No. Easton brought in top doctors to treat her.”

He quickly tried to explain, “Easton did not mean to lock you up. After that woman gives birth, he will let you go, so please do not grow distant from him.”

That bowl of medicine had failed to end Emma’s child, which was a pity.

By locking me up like this, Easton only wanted to guard against me in every way, afraid I would kill his child or harm Emma, and at that thought, my gaze grew sharp.

The man left, and after a few days, Easton finally came to see me, yet the room stayed in endless darkness, not a single light ever turned on.

His sharp-edged face hid in the shadows, his expression unreadable as he half-knelt before me.

“Tisha, after the child is born, I will release you. I will send Emma away, and she will never appear before you again. At that time, between you and me, everything will stay as before, nothing will change.”

Before I could answer, he turned and left.

I stayed locked away for four long months, and from the mouths of those who brought food, I pieced together bits about Easton.

What shocked me most was hearing that he had gone to the church to pray for blessings over his unborn child.

After so many years, his hands had long been soaked in blood, and such a disciple of faith who killed without pause, could God really hear his prayers?

At last, the day came, Emma’s due date.

Easton walked anxiously outside the delivery room, pacing back and forth as his hands wiped again and again at the cold sweat on his brow.

Finally, the doctors wheeled Emma out and said, “Congratulations, both mother and child are healthy.”

Tears welled in Easton’s eyes as he trembled while embracing the frail Emma. “Thank you… Thank you.”

Emma was quickly surrounded and wheeled into the maternity ward, her face pale and weak, yet unable to hide the joy in her expression.

“Where’s the child, Easton? I want to see the child.”

Easton, nearly overcome with excitement, answered at once. “The nurse just took the child for a check-up. I’ll bring the baby to you right now.”

His heart swelled with anticipation. He had only caught a brief glimpse earlier, without seeing clearly.

His hands and feet trembled, and though the room was right next door, he circled several times before finally finding the newborn observation room.

I rushed in, and my eyes locked on the child, the wristband still carrying the name Easton had chosen himself.

“Nurse, has the baby finished the check-up? Can I see the baby?”

His voice was cautious, and if his men had been there, they would have been shocked to see their boss so pitiful.

“Of course… no, you can’t!”

The nurse turned, and when she saw my face, Easton’s pupils shrank sharply. He had misjudged me, thinking one room could keep me trapped.

I curled my lips in a smile that was cold and vicious. If he would not go to hell, then who would?