Quinn’s expression flickered, clearly dissatisfied with the lack of reaction. Just as she opened her mouth to push further, Enzo suddenly stirred. His drunken eyes cracked open, his voice hoarse and laced with impatience.

"She’s nothing more than a servant in this house. What’s with the attitude of a lady of the house?"

"Make me a bowl of hangover soup."

A nearby servant instinctively stepped forward, but Enzo lifted a hand, stopping them.

His fingers curled slightly as he pointed straight at Kinsley.

"You do it."

"Miss Moore, don’t tell me you can’t even manage a simple bowl of hangover soup?"

The words landed like blows, sinking deep into her chest.

Kinsley took a slow breath before turning toward the kitchen without a word.

Watching her retreating figure, Quinn felt a rush of satisfaction wash over her.

Once upon a time, everyone had compared her to Kinsley. And every time, she had come up short.

Even Enzo, the boy she had known since childhood, had once been utterly devoted to her.

But now, everything had changed.

The Moore Family had fallen, Moore Corporation was no longer a name that carried weight in Ashford. Now, the city belonged to the Keller Family.

Time passed in silence as Kinsley finished making the hangover soup. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, her voice soft but steady.

"It’s ready. Do you want to drink it now or wait until it cools?"

Enzo barely spared it a glance before reaching out. Without hesitation, he swept the bowl to the floor.

Porcelain shattered against the tiles, the sharp fragments scattering like fallen glass. A few jagged pieces cut into Kinsley’s calf, bright red seeping down her skin in thin, glistening trails.

For a split second, Enzo’s gaze flickered, but he said nothing.

Kinsley didn’t flinch. As if she felt nothing at all, she crouched down, quietly picking up the shards before turning back to the kitchen.

Watching his indifference, Quinn leaned in, her voice laced with amusement as she draped herself against his shoulder.

"Why don’t we just make her my servant? I could use one at home."

The words barely left her lips before Enzo shot her a cold look. The playful smirk on her face stiffened instantly.

"You should go. I’ll consider the project in Rainier Bay."

A clear dismissal.

Quinn hesitated but knew better than to argue. She left without another word.

Kinsley, oblivious to her departure, continued moving like a machine, her hands repeating the same empty motions.

She didn’t hear the footsteps approaching behind her.

Didn’t notice until warmth pressed against her back.

A pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her against a familiar frame. The scent of alcohol lingered in the air, but the grip around her abdomen trembled slightly.

She stiffened.

Uncomfortable, she tried to pull away, but Enzo didn’t let go. His voice, hoarse yet strangely steady, brushed against her ear.

"Kinsley, when did you become like this?"

"Kinsley, give me a child."

Kinsley abruptly pushed him away, her entire body trembling like a leaf caught in a storm.

For a fleeting moment, she wanted to tell him the truth, that she was already carrying his child.

But the brutal reality twisted like a dagger in her heart, dragging her into the depths of despair. Her voice came out sharp, edged with madness.

"Enzo, I’m atoning for my father’s sins. How could we possibly have a child?"

"You would become the target of public scorn. They would drown you in their contempt."

"Someone like me isn’t even worthy of being a mother."

A cold, self-deprecating laugh slipped past her lips as her clear, desolate eyes met his abyss-like gaze.

Enzo’s jaw tensed, his fists clenching at his sides. When he finally spoke, his voice was laced with biting indifference.

"At least you have some self-awareness."

He stepped back, putting distance between them and without hesitation, he handed her a wedding invitation.

Kinsley took it, her fingers trembling as she unfolded the delicate paper.

Her gaze fell on the bride’s name—Quinn.

At that moment, memories surged like an unforgiving tide.

Once, she had held a wedding invitation just like this.

Once, her name had been there.

But time had passed. And there was no going back.

The bubbling of the soup on the stove broke the suffocating silence, pulling Kinsley from her daze. Slowly, she turned off the heat.

Enzo’s gaze lingered on her for a second, two seconds, before he turned away and strode upstairs.

Kinsley remained crouched on the ground, unmoving. The night stretched on, swallowing her whole.

Her head throbbed as if it might split apart, but she clenched her teeth and swallowed the pain in silence.

Her lips, bitten raw, seeped with blood and a dull ache coiled in her lower abdomen.

Dazed, she drifted into the past.

Back when Enzo’s father was still alive, they had already begun planning their wedding.

She still remembered the first time they met at a lively gathering in their youth. For Kinsley, it had been love at first sight.

And Enzo had felt the same.

That night, he had sat beside her, murmuring her name over and over as if engraving it into his soul.

Her hand had pressed against her chest, trying to steady the wild rhythm of her heart.

They had been happy once.

Until everything crumbled the night before their wedding.

She could still hear the desperate tremor in her mother’s voice, raw with panic.

“Kinsley, come home quickly! Something terrible has happened!”

Fear had seized her, but she hadn’t wasted a second. She had tried to call Enzo, but his phone remained unanswered.

By the time she reached home, a bloodied figure lay motionless on the ground.

She had shoved her way through the gathering crowd, only to stop dead in her tracks, her body frozen, her breath stolen by the sight before her.

Her mother clung to her, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Kinsley, talk to Enzo, please! Don’t let them send your father to prison!”

Her mind went blank. The words barely registered, drowned out by the chaos swirling around her.

Before she could make sense of anything, an ambulance arrived, sirens wailing and took the injured man away.

And then, she saw him.

Enzo stood there, his gaze piercingly cold, steeped in disappointment and something far worse, helplessness.

Her steps felt like lead as she forced herself forward, lips parting, yet no words came out.

His fingers dug into her shoulders.

“Kinsley, your father committed a crime and now you want mine to take the fall?”

His voice was laced with disbelief, with fury, with an ache she could not name.

Before she could respond, another figure broke through the crowd: his mother.

“You are the daughter of a murderer! I will never let you step foot into my house!”

The older woman seized Kinsley’s collar, her hatred raw and unforgiving. Then, without hesitation, she yanked the diamond bracelet from Kinsley’s wrist and hurled it to the ground.

The delicate diamond shattered into pieces.

Enzo said nothing.

But in that silence, everything became clear.

They were no longer a couple.

They were no longer the ones who had once spoken of forever.

They had become something else: victims and criminal’s kin.

Kinsley had wanted to uncover the truth.

But before she could take a step forward, her father’s body was found near the reservoir two days later.

And the world whispered the same verdict: he had taken his own life out of guilt.

The Moore Corporation had crumbled.

Overnight, everything was gone.

All that remained was her mother, trapped in madness, a hollow shell of the woman she once was.

Kinsley had always been stubborn. She had juggled five jobs a day just to pay for her mother’s treatment, pushing herself beyond exhaustion.

But even as her body withered under the strain, her mother remained comatose, clinging to life by the thinnest thread.

Now, returning to the present, Kinsley curled into herself, bone-deep exhaustion pressing down on her.

Only in this fragile moment could she steal a sliver of relief.

But once the sun rose, she would once again become the Kinsley, even she could barely recognize.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried to leave.

But every time she did, Enzo dragged her back.

“Kinsley, do you think your father’s death can erase the damage he did to my family?”

His voice was ice, sharp and unrelenting.

“I want you to stay in Cascadia and suffer, just like I do, every single day.”

They were the same.

Both had lost everything overnight.

And Kinsley hadn’t hesitated to agree.

Not long ago, the doctors had sealed her fate: a brain tumor.

Maybe, in the near future, she would forget everything.

Or maybe she was already living during borrowed time.

“Kinsley, your mother passed away last night.”

She answered groggily, her fingers numb against the phone. Her legs had long lost their strength and as the news settled in, her body weakened, leaving her frozen in place.

The servants who passed by hesitated, their curious gazes lingering. But when she offered no response, they left, their presence dissolving into the background.

Closing her eyes, she forced herself to steady. When she finally spoke, her voice trembled.

“Rowan, please help me. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

As the call ended, she struggled to stand, her steps unsteady as she forced herself forward.

At the hospital, she stood before the glass window, staring blankly.

The woman on the bed was no longer breathing.

Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind, fragments of a past that could never be reclaimed.

“Kinsley, I don’t believe your father would harm anyone. He was innocent, just a scapegoat.”

“Don’t go to the Keller Family. I won’t accept treatment either. I just want you to live well.”

“Kinsley! I dreamed of your father again. His body was covered in wounds and he was crying out in pain. I think he’s coming to take me with him.”

Her eyes snapped open, bloodshot and filled with grief.

Tears welled up, spilling silently onto the floor.

At some point, Rowan had appeared behind her.

“Auntie left peacefully. She didn’t suffer too much.”

She wiped her tears with trembling fingers, letting out a soft, weary sigh.

“I know. I know it all.”

“But now, I’m all alone.”