"Why should I apologize?"

The last time I said those words, Jeydon had tied me and my little dog—the one he'd rescued years ago and later given me—on opposite ends of a rope.

He hung us outside the window all night.

I cried and begged until my voice broke, but all he said was, "You couldn't teach it properly, so I'll teach it for you."

By the time he took us down the next morning, the stones used to balance our weight had crushed my dog's fragile bones. Its small body was nothing but a heap of blood and fur—lifeless and cold.

So now, when I stared straight into Jeydon's eyes, my voice was steady but laced with fury.

"Last time, you killed my dog. What about this time? Are you planning to kill me?"

His pupils contracted sharply, his lips pressing into a hard line. Anger flashed across his face.

"Stop changing the subject! You tried to run Krisha over, so apologize!"

I let out a short, bitter laugh. "My car hasn't even started. How exactly did I run her over? Jeydon, has she made you lose your damn mind?"

"You—!"

"Jeydon," Krisha whimpered, tugging on his sleeve. "Maybe I was just too scared and misunderstood Miss Meyer. Please don't argue because of me."

He carefully lifted her into his arms and placed her back in her wheelchair as though she were made of glass.

"Don't worry. I won't let you suffer for nothing."

Then he turned to me, step by step, his eyes darkening.

"Since you're so stubborn, you can experience the same fear Krisha felt."

He got into his car. The moment the engine roared to life, my heart stopped. I spun around and ran.

The screech of tires split the air. When I looked back, the car was charging toward me like a wild beast, headlights blazing.

Jeydon's cold eyes glinted behind the windshield.

I darted for cover—but slammed into a concrete pillar. The car skidded to a stop, its bumper grazing my leg.

Panting hard, I collapsed to the ground. Every inch of my skin trembled from the brush with death.

Jeydon stepped out. His polished shoes stopped inches from my face.

"Remember this lesson."

Then, he coldly added, "Cheska, since the lot chose you, I'll marry you. Krisha won't be a threat to you anymore. Stop causing her trouble."

He left with her in his arms, without so much as a backward glance.

I stayed there, tasting blood on my lips, the metallic tang spreading across my tongue.

For one tear from Krisha, he could take everything I loved—and even threaten my life.

I had long known how blind his sense of right and wrong was. And yet, every time, his blatant favoritism still cut me open anew.

It took me a long while before I managed to stand. I couldn't drive in this state, so I stumbled out to hail a cab.

As I stepped out of the parking lot, the first thing I saw was the Rolls-Royce that had almost hit me earlier.

The window was half-lowered. Krisha leaned against the frame, her gaze fixed on Jeydon walking toward her, holding an ice cream cone.

She took a bite, and he caught her chin, bending down to kiss her deeply.

A sharp pain twisted in my chest.

Jeydon hated sweets—he'd wrinkle his nose just from the smell. To please him, I'd even given up my favorite ice cream.

Yet now, because of her, he was savoring the very sweetness he once despised.

I turned away, ready to leave. But before I could take a step, a strong arm wrapped around my neck from behind.

"Mm—!" I gasped, struggling wildly, trying to scream for help.

Amid the chaos, Jeydon seemed to hear something—he turned his head slightly.

"Ah! It spilled on me!" Krisha's soft, coquettish cry rang out.

Without a second of hesitation, Jeydon turned back to her, taking out his handkerchief to wipe the melted ice cream from her hand.

My heart sank into the depths of despair.

I kicked and clawed desperately, but it was no use. The man behind me shoved me into a stranger's car, slamming the door shut.

Through the window, I caught one last glimpse of Jeydon pressing a kiss to Krisha's cheek before driving away, never once looking back.

The door closed with a dull thud.

And then—there was nothing but darkness.

I woke up to the sharp, sterile scent of disinfectant.

The light above my head was so blinding I could barely open my eyes. Voices drifted in and out through the haze.

"Miss Meyer really had a stroke of bad luck this time," the doctor sighed, a trace of pity in his tone. "Those kidnappers were after the jewelry you bought at that charity auction."

"Idiots," Jeydon's voice cut through the air—cold, arrogant, heartless. "That necklace was for Krisha. How could it possibly be in Cheska's possession?"

My vision swam. So the reason I was kidnapped... was because Jeydon flaunted his love for Krisha.

Hot tears pricked my eyes. I bit my lip hard, forcing myself to stay awake, to stay conscious.

"She was just caught in the crossfire," Jeydon said lazily, as if he were discussing the weather. "But she did break Krisha's legs first and tried to run her over. Let's call it even."

My whole body went rigid.

Even now he could speak of my pain so casually?

The doctor hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. After a moment, he changed the subject.

"When will her parents arrive? She needs surgery as soon as possible."

"They're on their way," Jeydon replied coolly. Then his next words sent ice through my veins.

"While she's under anesthesia... sterilize her."

The doctor froze.

"What?" His voice rose sharply. "Are you insane?"

"Why make such a fuss?" Jeydon sounded annoyed. "Only Krisha is worthy of bearing my child."

"I've already sacrificed my true love to marry Cheska. Isn't that enough? What, does she actually think she deserves to carry my child too?"

And as if that weren't enough, he added, almost cheerfully, "Besides, when Krisha gives birth, the child will be registered under Cheska's name. She can be a mother without ever having to give birth herself. Isn't that a blessing?"

Monster!

My chest trembled violently, rage boiling up until I could barely breathe.

This... this was the man I had loved for twelve years? The man who caused my kidnapping and injuries... now wanted to treat me like a stray animal, casually ordering my sterilization!

"Stop arguing," Jeydon snapped as the doctor tried to refuse. "Her parents will be here any moment. Go prepare the operating room."

Their footsteps faded down the hall.

I forced myself upright, pain splitting through my skull. I ripped the IV needle from my hand and clenched my jaw until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

I couldn't stay here.

The entire floor had been cleared, it was empty. I leaned against the wall, inch by inch, each step soaking my hospital gown in cold sweat.

Then, through the elevator doors, I saw two familiar figures. My knees went weak. Tears blurred my vision.

"Dad... Mom..."

They rushed forward, catching me before I could fall. My mother's tears splashed onto my cheeks, burning hot.

"Cheska, my baby, what did they do to you?"

Choking back the sob in my throat, I whispered hoarsely, "We have to go now."

Without another word, my father scooped me into his arms and ran.

Only when we were in the car did I realize how drenched I was—my hospital gown clinging to me, the pain from my wounds flaring with every breath.

Outside the window, the world blurred into streaks of light and motion. I caught a glimpse of the date on the dashboard—three days had passed.

Three days...

I'd been held captive for three days, and while I suffered in some dark, filthy room, Jeydon had been planning how to rob me of my right to become a mother.

My parents took me to another hospital. I lay on the new bed, watching the IV drip fall one slow drop at a time.

Calmly, I told them everything—every word I'd overheard, every cruel thing Jeydon had said.

My father exploded with fury, wanting to confront him immediately. But I grabbed his wrist and shook my head.

"If you go now, we'll only lose more. Please, just wait. Let me recover first."

Just four more days.

Four days from now... I will make Jeydon watch as everything he loved turned to ashes.

I woke from a nightmare with my hospital gown damp against my skin.

The ward was so quiet the monitor's beep was the only sound. My mother sat hunched at the bedside, dark bruises shadowing under her eyes.

"My daughter needs to rest. Mr. Crawford, it's not appropriate for you to visit now." My father's voice came from the doorway—firm, uncompromising.

Jeydon had found me.

Of course he had. In Seattle, there was no one Jeydon couldn't find.

"Uncle Simon, I only wanted to see her," his voice sounded concerned—low, soft, gentle—the same voice that had ordered a man to sterilize me like an animal.

"My daughter needs to rest. Mr. Crawford, it's not appropriate for you to visit now."

By evening, my parents' phones began to ring one after another. They exchanged a look, grabbed their coats, and my mother said, "Cheska, we have to go to the office. Rest for now. I'll have a caregiver watch you."

As soon as they left, the ward door opened quietly. I didn't want to see Jeydon's face, so I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.

"Don't pretend." A syrupy, sweet voice slipped into my ear and I snapped my eyes open.

Krisha sat smiling like a painted flower. "I knew you were awake." She rolled her wheelchair closer. "You refused to see Jeydon, so I gave him an idea. If your company hits a snag... your parents will have other things to worry about."

Her perfume was cloying enough to make me nauseous. "Their love for you is kinda overrated," she taunted.

"I told you not to speak of my parents again." I stared at her coldly. "Clearly last time's lesson didn't stick."

"Oh—you're already angry?" She clutched her chest melodramatically. "Don't be impatient. It's not over yet."

Suddenly she slapped her own cheeks twice. "Miss Meyer, I truly was wrong!" She wiped at her eyes and slid from the wheelchair to kneel beside the bed. "Please, forgive me..."

Immediately, the ward door was flung open. Jeydon saw the scene at once.

"Cheska!" He hauled Krisha to her feet and turned on me with fury. "What have you done now?"

I only felt a wave of powerlessness, 'I'm already like this, what else can I do?'

Jeydon choked on his words. "You're injured, yet you still make trouble for Krisha—"

His words trailed off mid-sentence. He inhaled slowly, then pushed Krisha out of the room. When he returned, he sat by my bed and let his fingers brush my cheek as if comforting a child. "Your complexion looks even worse," he murmured. "Come home with me."

I watched him without expression.

He sighed and softened his tone even more. "It's my fault you've suffered so much." He gripped my hand. "Don't worry. I'll make it right."

He went on, voice wrapped in honey. "I've arranged the best surgeon. He will perform a small surgery on you, and your injuries will recover quickly without leaving any marks."

My heart dropped. He had not abandoned his plan. The word "operation" rang in my ears like a bell.

I pushed myself up on trembling arms. "Jeydon."

"I'm here."

The next instant, I grabbed the glass vase on the bedside cabinet and hurled it at him.

The vase shattered against his temple. Blood trickled down his brow. I smiled, and said each word like a verdict. "You can do the surgery yourself!"