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."

Helena staggered, clutching her chest as sharp pain pierced through her. She gripped her clothes tightly, gasping for breath.

However, Rafael acted as if he hadn’t seen a thing. He took the signed divorce papers without a second glance and walked away.

“Don’t put on an act in front of me. I don’t love you, and I never will. Whether you live or die means nothing to me.”

The moment the two of them left, Helena couldn’t hold back anymore—she coughed up a mouthful of blood, her entire body trembling.

On the day of the wedding photoshoot, she stood by with a weary frame, watching the couple pose for intimate shots.

“President Suarez and Miss Perkins are truly in love,” a staff member gushed. “I heard this wedding dress was custom-made overseas, took months to complete, and was entirely hand-stitched.”

“They’re perfect together,” another chimed in. “And Miss Perkins even saved President Suarez’s life before—it’s fate, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely! When she went abroad, he waited for her to come back before getting married. If only I could find a man like that.”

Hearing their chatter, Helena’s eyelashes quivered, and her already pale face turned even whiter.

When they were together, he once told her that if you love someone, you should declare it to the world. He indeed kept his promise—but not for her.

During a break, Kaylee beckoned Helena over and handed her her wedding dress.

“Bring this to the dressing room.”

Helena quietly complied.

“I’m thirsty. Get me some water,” Kaylee added.

Wordlessly, Helena handed her a glass, but the moment Kaylee took it, she deliberately let it slip from her fingers, sending it shattering onto the floor.

The sudden commotion caught everyone’s attention. Kaylee’s eyes turned red, her expression pitiful.

“Sis... do you really hate me that much?”

Then, as if embarrassed, she lowered her gaze and murmured softly, “I’m sorry... Could you all give us a moment?”

The staff, sensing tension, nodded in understanding and quickly found excuses to leave.

Once the room was empty, Kaylee straightened, raising her left hand to flaunt the engagement ring on her finger. A sweet smile played on her lips.

“Do you know what kind of ring this is?” she mused. “It’s from Darry Ring—a brand where a man can only ever gift one ring in his lifetime. And guess what? He never gave you one, did he?”

Helena’s breath hitched. For a fleeting moment, a memory overlapped with Kaylee’s words.

"I heard Darry rings can only be gifted once in a lifetime. Helena, wouldn’t it be perfect for our engagement."

Back then, she had asked curiously, "Why for the engagement?"

Rafael had playfully tapped her nose. "Silly girl, because for our wedding, I’ll give you the very best—gold, diamonds, everything. Whatever others have, my Helena will have too."

But now, that promise belonged to someone else. His love belonged to someone else.

Seeing the pain flicker across Helena’s face, Kaylee’s smirk deepened.

“You rushed into marriage with him, didn’t even have a wedding, not even a ring. How shameless of you, clinging to his family like that.”

“But I’m different,” she continued, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “I have everything. And even the things others don’t, he gives me. He loves me now.”

As she spoke, she suddenly stepped closer, pressing a drugged cloth against Helena’s nose and mouth.

“You’re divorced, yet you still linger in that house, getting in my way. How could I not hate you?” she hissed. “Helena, just die already!”

Helena struggled desperately, falling to the ground in a haze of dizziness.

“What... what did you do to me?” she gasped.

Kaylee looked down at her as if she were nothing more than trash.

“I’m just giving you a little test—to see if your life is worth as much as mine in his eyes.”

The last thing Helena saw before darkness consumed her was Kaylee’s triumphant smile.

“Just die. Quietly. Alone. Never appear before us again.”

When Helena woke up, she found herself tied to a pillar, her body weak and drained of strength.

A man dressed in black stood with his back to her, sharpening a knife while speaking on the phone.

The moment the call connected, he lifted the blade with a satisfied grin and turned toward her, as if her awakening was of no surprise.

“Rafael Suarez,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement, “your wife is in my hands. If you want her alive, wire five hundred thousand immediately.”

On the other end, Rafael had just finished a set of wedding photos with Kaylee when he heard the demand.

He scoffed, his tone laced with mockery. “I don’t know who you think you have, but my wife is right here with me. You’ve kidnapped the wrong person.”

Just as Rafael was about to hang up, the next sentence froze him in place.

“Oh? So you’re saying your wife isn’t Helena Walsh?”

His movements stiffened, as if someone had doused him in ice water.

Very few people knew he was married, and even fewer knew about Helena.

His expression darkened slightly, but he still sneered.

“The entire New York knows my wife is the eldest daughter of the Perkins family. I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

With that, he ended the call. Just as he was about to dial Helena’s number, Kaylee walked up to him, urging impatiently,

“The next set of photos is about to start. Why haven’t you changed?”

Rafael frowned but still asked, “Where is Helena? Wasn’t she supposed to be here to help you today?”

At the mention of that name, Kaylee’s grip on her wedding dress tightened, her nails digging into her palm.

Even now, he was still thinking about that wretched woman!

A cold smirk flashed through her heart as she recalled what Helena must be going through at this moment. Lowering her head, she put on a look of disappointment.

“She probably still hates me... We had a little disagreement in the dressing room earlier, so I told her to rest there for a while.”

Rafael’s frown deepened, further convinced that the kidnapper was playing games with him. Or perhaps Helena was in on it too, desperately scheming for his attention.

He pulled Kaylee into his arms, his tone indifferent. “Forget her. Today is our special day. After the shoot, I’ll take you out for a candlelit dinner.”

Kaylee smiled sweetly and planted a shy kiss on his lips.

—

On the other end of the call, after hearing the click of the line disconnecting, the man in black’s expression darkened instantly.

Gripping his knife, he traced its edge along Helena’s neck, his voice laced with madness.

“You better pray you still have some value left. Otherwise...”

As the blade pressed against Helena's skin, a sharp pain shot through her. She turned her head away, feeling the warmth of blood trickling down her neck, her face growing paler by the second.

The kidnapper, however, seemed fascinated by the sight. He lightly patted her cheek with the knife before redialing the number, his tone now a direct threat.

“If the money isn’t transferred within thirty minutes, I’ll kill her.”

The response was indifferent.

“Go ahead.”

“...What?”

“Didn’t you say you’d kill her? Do it now. I won’t be giving you a single cent.”

The kidnapper’s face twisted into a menacing scowl. “Aren’t you afraid this will leak and ruin you?”

A soft scoff came through the receiver. “You don’t even know who I truly care about. How could you possibly threaten me? That nameless, insignificant woman was just a fling. In fact, I should thank you for taking care of her for me.”

“I don’t care who you are or when you kill her. Just let me know when the body needs collecting.”

After a beep, the line went dead once more.

The kidnapper’s fury exploded—he slammed his fist against the pillar, his face contorted in rage.

“You’re supposed to be Mrs. Suarez! How could he not care at all?!”

He hadn’t risked this much just to kill someone—he wanted money!

Helena had remained silent ever since she regained consciousness. But at this moment, the weight of it all finally became unbearable. Tears streamed down from her eyes, one after another.

Her head throbbed. Her vision blurred, and her neck burned with pain. But it was nothing compared to the agony in her heart—every breath felt like a thousand knives stabbing into her chest.

She forced out a bitter smile, mocking herself. “We’re already divorced. He doesn’t care whether I live or die.”

“...What?” The kidnapper’s temper snapped, and in a blind fury, he plunged the knife into her shoulder.

“You wretched woman! If I don’t get my money, then we’ll go to hell together!”

Blood poured from the wound. The excruciating pain made Helena slip into unconsciousness, only for the agony to jolt her awake again and again.

She didn’t know how long she was tortured. She didn’t even remember when she was finally rescued.

She only knew that when she opened her eyes again, she was in a hospital.

—

A television in the hospital room was broadcasting news about the high-profile marriage alliance. A reporter, holding a microphone, eagerly interviewed the couple.

“We heard you’ve completed your wedding photoshoot. Can you share where the ceremony will be held?”

Rafael, holding Kaylee in his arms, smiled indulgently.

“Kaylee loves church weddings, so we’ll be having ours in a chapel. We’ll also select ten lucky fans to witness our love.”

Beside the hospital bed, her phone vibrated repeatedly. It was a message from Rafael.

[Was it fun playing games with me? I told you—I don’t care if you live or die. Now that your little stunt is over, get back here. You know churches well, so you’ll be in charge of decorating the wedding.]