### Chapter 5

The wounds hadn't finished healing before the fever hit.

Back in the storage room, I held on to consciousness long enough to dial my father and tell him what I'd learned about ten years ago：

“Dad, Old Mr. Delgado's security has always been airtight. There's no way a lone orphan like Wendy could have arranged that assassination by herself. Please look into it for me.”

His voice dropped instantly：“I'll get on it right now. Zara, your voice sounds wrong. Are you……”

“I'm fine.” I cut him off. “I'll wait for your call.”

The line went dead, and the last of my strength went with it. I collapsed onto the cot, consciousness drifting at the edge of darkness.

Dawn had barely broken when the door slammed open.

Otto's tall frame filled the doorway, radiating fury, and he hauled me off the bed.

“This is your fault. Wendy's having nightmares every single night now. If this keeps up, she could lose the baby.”

“Go apologize to her.”

I stared at him in disbelief：“Apologize to the woman who butchered my child? Not a chance.”

“Stubborn as always.”

A cold smirk crossed his face. He took out his phone, dialed, and turned the screen toward me.

The moment I saw what was on it, my whole body went rigid.

The camera showed the ground beside my child's headstone. Several of Otto's men stood there with shovels and pickaxes, and one of them spoke into the lens：“Boss, want us to start? Everything's ready.”

I stared at the screen, nails biting into my palms. That was his child buried there too.

But the look in Otto's eyes was nothing but ice：

“Refuse, and you can say goodbye to your child forever.”

I knew he meant it. I just never imagined he could be this cruel to me.

In the end, swallowing hatred so hot it scalded, I nodded.

The master bedroom had once been mine. Now it was repainted in the soft pink Wendy loved best, every trace of me erased, the room as unrecognizable as the first half of my life.

Wendy lounged on the bed looking thoroughly pleased with herself, and I forced the words out through clenched teeth：

“……I'm sorry.”

Wendy pouted, unsatisfied：“One little 'sorry' is supposed to make up for what I've been through? If sorry was enough, what would we even need cops for?”

My nails dug deeper into my palms. Behind me, Otto's cold voice came again：

“Kneel. Bow to Wendy and beg her forgiveness.”

He raised his phone again. The screen still showed the live feed from the grave.

My knees hit the floor hard. Then my forehead cracked against the tile.

Once, twice, three times……I couldn't feel the pain anymore. I kept going until I'd struck my head against the ground more than a dozen times.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have provoked you.”

“I'm sorry. I'll step aside for you two……”

“Enough!”

A hand clamped around my arm and Otto yanked me to my feet.

He saw the blood seeping from my forehead and frowned.

“If you'd been this obedient from the start, you could've saved yourself the suffering. Go. Have a doctor put something on that.”

“Mm.”

I lowered my eyes, fighting the dizziness, and walked back to the storage room in silence.

The door opened again. Otto had followed me in. He tossed a bottle of antiseptic and a roll of gauze into my arms, his tone flat：“I'm throwing Wendy a baby shower the day after tomorrow. Behave yourself, and I'll give you a reward.”

He turned to leave, and I called after him before he could.

“I promise I won't cause any more trouble.” I lifted my head, voice meek. “I want a car. Will you get me one?”

His steps faltered. He turned back, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

In all these years, I had never once asked him for anything.

His gaze lingered on my face for a few seconds, scrutinizing, before the familiar need to control won out.

“Fine.”

I pulled the documents from my bag immediately, flipped to the signature page, and held them out.

“I've already picked the car. Just sign and pay.”

### Chapter 6

Otto took the papers. His fingertips paused at the edge of the first page, as if he meant to flip through them. My heartbeat slammed into the base of my throat, and cold sweat beaded across my palms.

Then Wendy's syrupy voice drifted down from upstairs.

He scrawled his signature in two quick strokes and handed the papers back to me.

“I'm glad you've finally learned your place, Zara.”

There was something almost like approval in his voice. He turned and left without another glance.

The door closed.

I pulled the divorce agreement and the share-transfer deed from between the pages and called my father.

“Dad, it's done. I have everything.”

His steady baritone came through the line.

“Sweetheart, I've also got the evidence of Otto's business crimes over the years. Sending it to you now.”

“And you were right — the assassination ten years ago was no simple hit. Even that woman, Wendy Fox — tsk……”

His voice trailed off with heavy implication, and my inbox chimed.

I opened the attachments. My eyes moved over the photos and documents, and what started as shock slowly bent into a thin, cold smile.

Otto Delgado. You thought you controlled everything. Thought you stood above me, pulling the strings.

But what if your “truth” was rotten at the root — nothing but a trap she designed from the start?

I couldn't wait to see your face.

I removed my earring stud and extracted the hidden video file, then loaded it onto a flash drive along with the evidence from the assistant and everything my father had sent.

The next morning, I handed all of it to my lawyer.

I also prepared two copies as timed emails — one addressed to Old Mr. Delgado, the other to Otto.

If the old man learned that the assassination attempt that nearly killed him ten years ago wasn't the work of a rival family at all, but Wendy Fox's doing — and that his most prized grandson had known all along, had covered for the real culprit —

What would he do?

The night of the party, every light in the Delgado estate blazed.

I picked up my suitcase, took one last look at that gilded cage, and walked out the back door without turning around.

A black sedan waited at the curb.

A tall, steady-shouldered man stepped out and pulled me into his arms — “My daughter — Dad's taking you home!”

“Dad……”

Ten long years since I'd last felt this embrace, and it was still the only place in the world where I could rest.

The tears I'd been holding back for so long finally spilled, and I leaned against my father's warm shoulder, knowing the nightmare was over.

Once inside the car, I took out the SIM card I'd used for ten years.

Otto had given it to me when we first got together. A pair of matching numbers.

He'd said the linked digits were like Cupid's arrow, tying us together for life.

And I had never once turned off my phone — just so he could always reach me the moment he needed to.

I pressed hard and snapped the card in half, then tossed the pieces out the window. Every tie between us, severed.

Goodbye, Otto Delgado. You will never find me again.

May we never meet in this lifetime.