When Helena returned to the villa, she was greeted by the unmistakable sounds of a man’s heavy breathing and a woman’s soft moans coming from upstairs.

Rafael had taken Kaylee to what was supposed to be their marital bedroom.

She curled up on the sofa, trembling, numb to everything except the suffocating pain in her chest. She had no heart anymore, yet her hollow ribcage ached as if it were boiling over, scalding her from the inside. Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.

In their five years of marriage, Rafael had often brought different women home. But ever since Kaylee appeared, it was as if all his affection, all his sincerity, had been reserved solely for her.

Helena knew—he wanted her to suffer.

They had once been the envy of all, from school uniforms to wedding vows. But on the eve of their engagement, she broke their promise.

When he found out she was leaving the country, Rafael had desperately tried to stop her. He had knelt outside the Walsh family’s house for three days and nights, soaked in the rain until he collapsed with a fever.

Even as he was rushed to the hospital, he deliriously called out her name.

That accident left his legs permanently damaged, and his dream of a military career was shattered.

For a man as proud as Rafael, she had cost him everything.

Helena still remembered the day she left. He had chased after her car all the way to the airport, his red-rimmed eyes filled with agony as he fell to his knees.

“Helena, don’t leave me. Whatever future you want, I’ll give it to you. Just don’t abandon me, please.”

But she hadn’t looked back. She had pried his fingers off her wrist, one by one, and walked away.

Since then, Rafael had despised her with every fiber of his being.

But only Helena knew the truth.

That year, her entire family was in a car accident. Her parents died on the spot, and she was the sole survivor. Overnight, she lost everything—and was left to face an insurmountable debt.

Then, the Perkins family approached her. If she agreed to donate blood to Kaylee, they would settle her family’s debts.

She had no choice. She had to break up with Rafael, to protect him from being dragged into her mess.

After a successful match, the Perkins family "adopted" her. To outsiders, she was a foster daughter. In reality, she was nothing more than a walking blood bank.

The repeated blood extractions weakened her body, but when she heard that Rafael had risked his life to start a business—only to end up in a car accident, hovering between life and death—she secretly returned to the country to donate her heart to save him.

Later, Rafael’s business thrived, and the two families arranged a marriage alliance.

But Kaylee already had a boyfriend abroad and refused to marry a stranger. As the "adopted daughter," Helena was pushed forward instead.

When Rafael saw her again, his fury was uncontainable. He married her only to keep her imprisoned at his side, punishing her with relentless humiliation and torment.

Helena had once thought she could spend a lifetime making amends. But when she realized her own time was running out, she selfishly chose to leave.

The future Rafael had once longed for—she, too, wanted to see it.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before the noises upstairs finally ceased.

Rafael came downstairs wrapped in a bath towel. The moment his gaze landed on her wretched figure, his expression twisted with disgust.

“Why are you just sitting there? Go make dinner.”

Helena tightened her grip on the bank card in her palm, her voice faint but steady.

“I need two hundred thousand.”

Once she paid off her medical bills, she could leave without hesitation.

Rafael’s expression darkened instantly, his carefully concealed indifference giving way to pure hatred.

“You love money that much? You’d throw everything away for it?”

For a moment, it seemed like he wanted to strangle her. But then his eyes fell on her frail, bony frame, and he forcibly held himself back.

His voice was laced with venom as he spat, “Helena, I hate you! I hate you so much I wish you were dead!”

She watched him turn away to retrieve the money, then closed her eyes bitterly.

Rafael... This time, she really was going to die.

—

The next day, Helena developed a fever but merely swallowed a few cold pills and carried on.

The villa had no housekeepers. The expensive clothes they wore, through all seasons, were always hand-washed by her.

Perhaps it was a fever or an infection, but her body trembled uncontrollably. A sharp pain shot through her chest, and she clutched at it desperately as she gasped for air.

She felt as though the oxygen was slowly being drained from her lungs.

“Medicine...”

She staggered toward her bedroom, reaching for the drawer where she had left her pills—only to find them missing.

“You’re looking for this?”

A voice rang out.

Helena turned instinctively toward the sound, her vision blurring.

In Kaylee’s hand was her bottle of medicine.

Panicked, Helena reached out, but her vision swam with darkness.

“Give it back...”

Kaylee studied the bottle lazily, as if savoring her distress. Then, as if by accident, she suddenly loosened her grip.

“Oh dear,” she said with feigned innocence. “Oops, I dropped it.”

Helena ignored Kaylee’s taunts and silently bent down to pick up her medicine, only for Kaylee to step on it with a smirk.

Seeing Helena’s indifferent expression only fueled Kaylee’s resentment. Her eyes burned with hatred.

“It’s always like this—you act like nothing ever affects you. But why? After everything you did to him, why does Rafael still think about you?!”

“You have no idea how much I envy you. Even in his sleep, he calls your name! I’ve been by his side for three years—why can’t he see only me? What do you have that I don’t?”

“Helena, I was supposed to be the one to marry him! This marriage was stolen from me! You’re just a pathetic parasite living off my family, so what makes you worthy of his attention?”

She pressed down harder with her foot, grinding the pill bottle until it started to collapse under the pressure. Only then did she seem satisfied, her lips curling into a cruel smile.

“But it doesn’t matter anymore. Now, he believes I was the one who saved his life. He’ll never know you gave him your heart. Everything you once had—I’ll take it all, piece by piece.”

“Helena, this is what you owe me!”

The moment she finished speaking, she suddenly let out a sharp scream and threw herself backward against the table.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Helena snatched the crushed medicine from under her foot, desperately stuffing a pill into her mouth as her breathing turned ragged.

Rafael walked in just in time to witness the scene, his expression twisting with disgust.

“It hurts...”

Hearing Kaylee’s pitiful whimper, he immediately rushed to her side, his face dark with concern. When he noticed the fresh wound on her forehead, his anger boiled over.

Without hesitation, he kicked Helena to the ground. His voice was sharp with fury.

“I thought you were just a gold-digger, but I didn’t realize you’d become this cruel. If you so much as lay a finger on Kaylee again, don’t blame me for being merciless!”

His gaze swept over the broken pill bottle on the floor before he turned away without a second glance.

Helena lay on the ground, dazed, watching his retreating figure. She wasn’t sure which hurt more—her body or her heart.

Dragging herself back to her room, she finally lost consciousness.

It felt like her bones were being crushed, inch by inch, but the pain was so intense that she couldn’t even make a sound.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before the medicine took effect. Cold sweat drenched her body as she finally slipped into a deep sleep.

Then, out of nowhere, a splash of ice-cold water jolted her awake.

Rafael stood at her bedside, holding the familiar pill bottle, his expression frozen over.

“Kaylee already told me everything. She saw you taking vitamins and simply asked about them, yet you selfishly assumed she was trying to steal them from you and even went so far as to hurt her. Is this stuff really that important to you?”

Helena clenched the bedsheet tightly, her face deathly pale as she lowered her gaze.

“Yes. It’s very important.”

She had finally found the courage to leave and start over. She couldn’t afford any more complications.

Besides, at this point, the truth no longer mattered.

Rafael let out a cold laugh, as if she had just pushed him past his limit.

“Helena, you never fail to disgust me.”

He suddenly grabbed her by the throat, forcing her to look up at him. Then, gritting his teeth, he dumped the entire bottle of pills into her mouth.

“You love taking them so much? Then eat them all!”

Only when she started choking, tears streaming down her face as she struggled for air, did he finally release her in disgust. But just as he was about to leave, his gaze fell on the scattered pills.

“These... aren’t vitamins?”

His expression flickered with something unreadable. Hesitation. Doubt.

Impatiently, he rummaged through her drawer and pulled out another bottle—this one still sealed.

When he read the label, whatever trace of uncertainty had been in his eyes vanished. His anger returned, fiercer than before.

“Medicine for artificial heart infection?” He let out a scornful laugh. “Helena, your acting skills are truly remarkable. What, do you expect me to believe you don’t have a heart? Or are you trying to tell me you’re dying?”

Helena curled up on the bed, coughing violently as if she could claw the pills out of her throat. Then, all of a sudden, she laughed.

"Yes, Rafael." Her eyes locked onto his, unwavering. "I'm about to die-"

“Enough!” He lost control and slapped her across the face, his breath ragged with fury. His voice dripped with mockery.

"Lies one after another. Do you think I’d actually pity you? If you really had the guts to die, you would have done it already!" His voice was sharp with contempt.

"You’re too greedy for that. You’d never give up everything you’ve schemed for."

He pulled out a tissue, wiping his wrist as if he had touched something filthy.

Then, with a final sneer, he spat, "This better not be birth control pills."

"If you think you can escape me by getting close to another man—forget it."

His voice was chilling. "Even if you die, it’ll be right in front of me."

It wasn’t until Rafael slammed the door and left that Helena stumbled into the bathroom, desperately forcing herself to vomit.

She lifted her head, staring at her swollen, bruised face in the mirror.

A laugh escaped her lips—soft at first, then louder. But as the laughter continued, her tears began to fall.

"Rafael... the heart beating in your chest... belongs to me."

—

That night, Helena had a dream.

In it, she saw the past—the days when they were in love.

Rafael had once been so thoughtful, so gentle.

He used to prepare her breakfast the night before, worried she wouldn’t like the food at the university cafeteria.

He would warm a bottle of milk in his arms and bring it to her classroom door.

He even sat through lectures with her in the winter, just to be her human heater.

Even the simple act of sharing street food together had felt like pure happiness.

When Helena woke up, for a brief moment, she thought she was back in that time—five years ago.

But the relentless beeping of her alarm pulled her back to reality.

She swallowed two cold medicine pills, her mind still foggy, then got up to prepare breakfast.

Just as she was about to start cooking, her phone rang.

Without a second thought, she answered the call.

"Miss Walsh, you scheduled an appointment with our studio for a memorial portrait. Are you available to come in today?"

She froze for a moment, then weakly replied, "Yes. I'll be there this afternoon."

She had made this appointment long ago.

The battlefield had no mercy—she didn’t know if she’d make it back alive.

It was better to be prepared.

After setting the breakfast on the table, Helena turned to go back to her room.

Rafael never let her eat at the table—she was only allowed to eat the leftovers.

But just as she was about to leave, she suddenly stopped in her tracks.

Seated at the table, Kaylee's arms was wrapped around Rafael’s waist, pouting playfully.

"It’s all your fault for keeping me up all night. Now I don’t even have the strength to eat! How am I supposed to handle the interview later?"

Rafael smiled, his voice indulgent. "Be good. I’ll feed you. No one will notice."

Then, she heard Kaylee’s next words—

"So, when are you divorcing her? Otherwise, how can you marry me?"

Helena’s breath hitched. She wanted to turn and leave. But her feet refused to move.

Then—she heard his answer.

"As soon as I finalize the agreement, she’ll sign it."

She closed her eyes, but it didn’t stop the pain.

It felt as if her chest was being ripped open.

—

That afternoon, Helena went to the photography studio.

After the session, the staff handed her a receipt with a sympathetic smile.

"Miss Walsh, your photos will be ready for pickup in a couple of days."

She blinked, then forced out a faint smile. "Thank you."

As she stepped outside, the sun was shining, but she felt no warmth.

Every step she took felt like a march toward death—a journey she had no way of stopping.

At the front desk, a television was broadcasting Rafael and Kaylee’s interview.

Her ears rang as his voice filled the room.

"The engagement between the Suarez and Perkins families was arranged long ago. Kaylee is a wonderful girl—she even saved my life once. We’ll be getting married next month. Everyone is welcome to attend."

Helena’s gaze dazedly drifted toward the screen, only to see them standing intimately close, their eyes and expressions overflowing with an undeniable love.

The receptionist sighed softly.

"Mr. Suarez is finally marrying Miss Perkins. They look perfect together."

Someone else agreed.

"It’s true. Miss Perkins is so kind. Just yesterday, she posted a video of herself doing the Ice Bucket Challenge! And it’s still early spring!"

The others nodded.

"They’re such a good match—talented and beautiful."

Their voices blurred together.

Each word felt like a needle, stabbing into her mind.

When Rafael married her, there had been no ceremony, no celebration.

The world had never even acknowledged her as Mrs. Suarez.

And now, the last thread connecting them was about to be severed.

Helena thought she had become numb. But now that the moment had finally arrived—the pain was unbearable.

—

By the time she returned to the villa, it was already night.

Rafael was lounging on the sofa, while Kaylee curled in his arms.

As soon as he saw her, his face turned cold. "Sign the divorce papers."

He tossed the document onto the table.

"I’ll give you five hundred thousand dollars. After that, we’ll have nothing to do with each other."

Helena’s hands trembled as she reached for the pen.

Her voice was hoarse, but steady. "Okay."

Immediately, Rafael’s expression twisted with disgust.

Seeing her so quick to sign, his lips curled into a sneer. "Of course. As long as there’s money involved, you’ll do anything."

He leaned back lazily and continued, "In a few days, Kaylee and I are taking wedding photos. You’ll come along as an assistant."

Kaylee glanced at her and smiled sweetly, feigning kindness.

"It’s alright. I can manage on my own. I’m sure Sis wouldn’t want to see me anyway... After all, it’s because of me that she—"

"This has nothing to do with you." Rafael cut her off, his voice utterly indifferent.

"This marriage was something she schemed for. I’m just returning things to their rightful place."

He turned to Helena, his gaze was like ice. "Besides—I never loved her."