Josephine dropped me off at the studio and left.

I ran my fingers over the oil paintings hanging on the walls.

After I'd helped Dominic build his company from the ground up, he knew how much I loved painting. He'd spent a fortune sending me abroad to study.

He was clingy back then. He'd call me every day, and we'd talk for three hours straight.

I used to stare at his handsome profile on my phone screen and sketch him on paper.

The entire studio was filled with portraits of Dominic.

I traced the texture of the oil paint, and something inside me cracked. I wanted to tear every single one of them to shreds.

The door creaked open behind me. I buried my emotions.

"Josephine, didn't I tell you not to disturb me?"

A girl's coy laughter rang out from behind me.

Stephanie walked over and took my hand, pressing it against her slightly swollen belly.

Her words coiled around me like venom, each one sinking its fangs into my heart.

"You've already figured it out, haven't you, Joanna?"

"Dominic stopped loving you a long time ago. Honestly, why didn't you just die in that car accident?"

Something splashed against my ankles. The sharp, unmistakable smell of gasoline filled the air.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I grabbed Stephanie's hand in a panic.

"What are you doing?"

The click of a lighter.

Seconds later, thick smoke clawed at my throat and I doubled over coughing.

Everything around me turned scorching hot.

I couldn't see. My hand brushed against a burning easel by accident.

Pain ripped across the back of my hand, and I gasped through clenched teeth.

Stephanie laughed, a sharp, taunting sound, and squeezed my hand tight so I couldn't run.

"Today, I'm going to show you exactly who the woman Dominic truly loves is."

The smoke thickened. I couldn't stop coughing.

The oxygen in my lungs was running out. My legs buckled and I collapsed to the floor.

The door shuddered with a deafening crash.

Dominic's voice, frantic.

"Joanna! Are you okay? Don't be scared. I'm coming to get you."

He called my name again and again.

When I didn't answer, his voice grew more desperate.

The instant the door burst open, Stephanie yanked me backward and crumpled to the ground.

"My stomach... it hurts so much..."

A fragile, pitiful whimper.

The footsteps that had been charging straight toward me faltered the moment Stephanie cried out, then changed direction entirely.

A brutal, dragging pain tore through my lower abdomen. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. I screamed his name with every ounce of strength I had left.

"Dominic, save me!"

I was shaking with terror, clawing and crawling across the floor, desperate to find a way out for my baby.

Dominic's footsteps faltered again.

He was caught between us, paralyzed with indecision. I bit down on the tip of my tongue to force myself to stay conscious.

"I can't see... please, just save me first?"

I made myself small. I begged. I prayed he would choose me.

But he'd barely taken a few steps before Stephanie's agonized sobbing filled the air again.

Her voice was barely a whisper. "Save our baby." Then she went silent.

The uneven footsteps moved further and further away from me.

Ice flooded my veins. I curled into myself on instinct, wrapping my body around my belly.

A sharp crack split the air, followed by a blast of searing heat.

A burning easel crashed down onto both my hands.

Tears streamed down my face. I writhed and squirmed, dragging my hands free inch by inch.

The skin on the backs of my hands was raw and blistering. When I touched them, all I felt were welts.

My consciousness dimmed. Tears of pure despair slid down my cheeks.

Who's going to save me and my baby?

In the last second before everything went dark, I heard the wail of sirens.

Someone lifted me gently, carefully, and carried me somewhere I couldn't name.

When I woke again, the sharp sting of antiseptic filled my nostrils.

My hand flew to my stomach, and I turned frantically to the side.

"Is anyone there? How's my baby?"

A warm hand gently patted the back of mine.

Josephine spoke softly. "The doctor said the baby is perfectly healthy. They want you to stay in the hospital and rest."

She paused. "But your hands, ma'am... the scars will probably be permanent."

Only then did I notice the thick layers of gauze wrapped around both hands. The slightest movement sent a searing pain straight to the bone.

Tears of lingering fear slid down my cheeks, and I let out a long, shaky breath.

Hurried footsteps echoed from the doorway.

Before I could even register who it was, someone seized me and hauled me off the bed.

"Joanna, if you had a problem with Stephanie, you could've just told me! Setting a fire to kill someone is a crime!"

"Do you have any idea she almost had a miscar—"

His furious tirade cut off abruptly.

I looked up in disbelief. Every ounce of physical pain paled against the agony tearing through my chest.

"You think I set that fire to burn her alive?"

Tears spilled like a broken string of pearls, falling one after another without end.

Six years. I had been by Dominic's side for six years, and in his eyes, I was nothing but a vicious, heartless woman.

My stomach clenched violently, and I winced at the cramping.

Dominic's grip on my arm didn't loosen. He dragged me toward the door.

"It doesn't matter who actually did it. All of this started because of you."

"Stephanie is terrified. She's emotionally unstable. You're going to apologize to her."

As he wrenched me forward, my hand slammed into the doorframe.

Every last drop of strength drained from my body. Dominic hauled me down the corridor like a rag doll, merciless, never once looking back.

The moment we crossed the threshold into Stephanie's room, I heard her pitiful sobbing.

Then the hospital bed rattled violently. Stephanie climbed down and dropped to her knees at my feet with a thud.

Her voice cracked with anguish.

"Joanna, I'll move out. I'll leave the house, I promise. Just please don't kill me, okay?"

Her long, sharp acrylic nails dug straight into my open wounds.

I flinched and tried to pull back, but a heavy crash echoed through the room.

A stinging slap blazed across my cheek. Dominic had struck me so hard I crumpled to the floor.

My stomach hit the sharp corner of a table. The pain was blinding.

Stephanie's weeping grew louder, even more fragile and piteous than before.

"Don't blame Joanna. It's all my fault... I'm just not good enough. That's why she hates me."

I sat crumpled on the cold floor. Something warm trickled between my legs.

I stared at my mangled, gauze-wrapped hands. My mind went blank.

"Dominic... I think I'm bleeding..."

A cold scoff was all I got in return.

"You think a lie like that is going to make me feel sorry for you?"

I shook my head frantically. "I'm not lying. I'm pregnant..."

"Please, just take me to a doctor."

Stephanie tugged at her tears, putting on the look of a stubborn, delicate flower.

"Go take Joanna to the doctor. She needs you more than I do right now."

A nurse happened to walk in on her rounds and began going over instructions with Stephanie.

"You're showing signs of a threatened miscarriage. You absolutely cannot let yourself get upset."

After she finished, I felt a searing gaze land on me.

The nurse glanced my way with visible disgust. "And you, sir, even if you want to carry on with your mistress, at least don't let it affect your wife's pregnancy."

Dominic didn't argue. He just gave a quiet murmur of acknowledgment.

The moment the nurse left, Dominic signaled his bodyguards to throw me out.

I lay sprawled on the cold hospital floor, my lower abdomen ripping apart as if a thousand hands were tearing at it from the inside. I couldn't breathe through the pain.

Everything around me was darkness. My voice came out raw and broken as I called for help.

Footsteps passed by. Not a single person stopped.

"That's the shameless woman who's been throwing herself at Mr. Mercer. Can you believe it? Trying to worm her way in as his mistress."

"Too bad Mr. Mercer only has eyes for his wife. He didn't even spare her a glance."

I dragged myself forward on my hands and knees, begging them to help me.

But someone shoved me hard from behind. I tumbled down dozens of steps, clawing desperately until my fingers caught the railing.

My grip kept slipping. I was about to lose hold.

If I fell, the baby wouldn't survive.

I squeezed my eyes shut in despair. The moment my fingers gave way and my body plunged into freefall, a pair of strong arms swept me up.

"I'm sorry. I should have been here sooner."