My younger brother's cancer flared up again, and he needed emergency treatment. But every available medical resource had already been diverted elsewhere.

For the ninety-ninth time, I finally managed to get through to my husband, Terrence Hanson.

"Terrence, my brother, he—"

"Denise, be good. I'm busy right now. I'll come back and find you later."

Before I could finish, he hung up.

Unwilling to give up, I dialed again.

This time, the phone screen showed I'd been blocked.

A second later, the heart monitor behind me let out its mournful flatline. At the same time, my husband's new lover updated her feed—celebrating that her cat had just given birth.

So this was his so-called "urgent business"—helping his mistress deliver kittens.

In my despair, I finally messaged the one man I had never saved under a name.

"You once said you owed me, and that if I ever asked, you'd do anything for me."

"I need you to help me create a new identity—and find me a place to stay."

His reply came almost instantly, "One month from now, I'll be waiting at Charles de Gaulle Airport."

...

I clicked on Sienna’s latest post again.

It was a photo of a newborn kitten.

The caption read: [Thanks to someone’s support, a new life has come into the world~]

But in the mirror behind the photo, I caught sight of a familiar figure.

Terrence.

The gentle gaze that once belonged only to me was now resting in Sienna.

On her side, a new life had begun.

But my brother... would never have another chance.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the framed photo on my nightstand.

In it, my brother was lively, radiant with youth. And I, was smiling sweetly.

And the young Terrence—his gaze fixed on me—was full of tenderness and indulgence.

The year that photo was taken, Terrence had not yet been found by the Hanson family.

Back then, he was nothing but a feral wolf cub from the slums, surviving by his fists.

Seven years ago, I stumbled upon him in a dark alley, his head bleeding from a fight.

I hadn't planned to interfere, but his eyes shone even in the darkness.

On impulse, I took the battered young man back to my tiny thirty-square-meter apartment.

Everything that followed seemed to play fast-forward.

Terrence rose from the street thug to the feared and admired Mr. Hanson.

I moved from a crumbling urban village to a grand villa.

My brother no longer had to suffocate in a cramped flat, dragging his sick body through exhaust fumes.

I used to circle the master bedroom again and again, asking him over and over, "From now on, this will always be our home, right?"

Terrence never lost patience. He would just pull me into his arms and answer, "Mm. Our home."

But now, my brother was gone. And that home... had long ceased to exist.

I collapsed onto the floor, clutching my brother's still-warm hand, sobbing until my chest felt like it was tearing apart.

I couldn't even remember how many documents I signed that night.

All I knew was that my once-lively brother, wasted to under a hundred pounds by illness, had been reduced to a small urn of ashes.

Taking a deep breath, I opened my chat with Terrence.

The last messages between us were from half a month ago. That day, I had asked when he would be back.

He replied with a sixty-second voice message, only to say, in the end, that something urgent at the company kept him away.

That day was our first wedding anniversary, and he had forgotten.

But in Sienna’s story feed, he appeared—smiling at her side, accompanying her to the Maldives to watch the sea.

This kind of double standard had long become routine ever since Sienna reappeared in my life.

Terrence bought her luxury bags and watches, yet he forgot my birthday.

Because she was harassed, he broke his own principles for the first time, even canceling a cooperation that had taken months to secure.

He even went so far as to declare war against a multinational company—just to defend her honor.

Meanwhile, I stumbled through my brother’s funeral like a walking corpse.

After scattering his ashes into the sea, just as he wished, I finally received Terrence’s so-called reply.

Seven full days had passed since the last time he hung up on me.

"Denise, don't worry. An overseas cancer specialist is already on the way. As for the medical resources that were diverted, I still have an urgent need for them right now. Just wait a little longer."

Listening to his solemn yet perfunctory tone, I laughed through my tears.

"Wasting an enormous amount of medical resources to save a damn animal—that's what you call urgent business?"

The line went silent except for the sound of his heavy breathing.

"Denise, don't say things like that. Denver is my brother too—how could I not be worried about him?"

Yes. In the past, when we were dirt-poor, Terrence would secretly fight in underground rings just to afford a single vial of medicine for my brother.

But when Denver truly needed him most, all he could say was to wait a little longer.

Just as he finished speaking, a bright female voice chimed in, "Terrence, the kittens opened their eyes! Come look!"

Footsteps echoed as he moved, probably searching for a quieter spot.

But I had already heard everything—both what I should and shouldn't have.

"You don't need to explain." I cut him off, unwilling to endure another word of his hypocritical excuses, and ended the call.

Back in my bedroom, I retrieved the locked divorce agreement.

When we married, in a show of devotion, Terrence had signed it and placed it in my hands.

"You will always have the right to leave me."

At the time, I laughed at his paranoia, believing it was a document that would never be used. But now, that very agreement became the courage I needed to walk away.

I signed my name with steady strokes.

Through special channels, the divorce certificate would be finalized within twenty days.

After submitting the papers, I found a spare moment to return to my old rental apartment.

Many of my brother's belongings were still there.

The dead deserve to leave behind something tangible for the living to remember them by.

What I hadn't expected was to see Terrence's exclusive Maybach parked outside.

I froze, about to step forward—until I noticed the car rocking.

Nausea surged up from my stomach.

When the door finally opened, I instinctively ducked into the alleyway like a guilty child.

Inside, I saw Sienna. Her clothes were disheveled, and she was whining about wanting to get out.

Terrence's cold voice barked at her to wait. Only after fastening the buttons across her exposed chest did he allow her to step down.

And to keep her shoes from touching the dirty water, he even took off his suit jacket and laid it on the ground for her.

Clinging to his arm, she pouted playfully. "Why did you bring me here of all places?"

He rubbed her head with indulgence. "Didn't you say you wanted to start your own business?"

"This is an urban village. Once it's redeveloped, the profit is guaranteed."

Excited, Sienna tiptoed to press a kiss to his lips.

But this so-called "urban village" was more than crumbling buildings to me. It held seven years of memories—my entire life with him. And yet, to please her, Terrence never even mentioned the redevelopment to me.

If I hadn't come today, I might never have been able to keep even my brother's belongings.

A sharp pain tore through my chest, as though the wind had ripped a gaping hole in my heart.

I turned to leave, desperate to escape—but my foot crushed a plastic bottle with a sharp crack.

The sound sliced through the alley, interrupting their embrace.

Terrence's cold gaze swept toward the source of the noise. When he saw me, his hand instantly dropped from Sienna's waist.

Almost guiltily, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and walked toward me.

"Why did you suddenly come back here?This place is full of shady people—why didn't you bring anyone with you?"

The concern in his words sounded no different from before. But after watching him hold Sienna so intimately, every gesture of his only filled me with disgust.

The hand that once always reached for me now hovered in the air.

"I just felt like coming back. What about you?"

My indifferent question cut off whatever reprimand he had been about to unleash.

He opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Sienna chimed in sweetly, "I just got back to the country. I asked Terrence to show me around. Surely you're not jealous over something so small, right?"

Seven years had passed. I was now the wife of a powerful CEO. Yet Sienna's gaze toward me was still the same—contempt wrapped in disdain.

Bolstered by her family background, she even stole what belonged to others with self-righteous ease.

"Denise, why aren't you saying anything?"

Pouting, she tugged at Terrence's sleeve. "Help me explain to her. I was young and foolish before, and I already apologized. Tell Denise not to be angry with me anymore..."

Her sickeningly coy words made my hands tremble. I finally cut her off. "Have you said enough?"

Delighted that she had gotten a reaction, Sienna burst into tears, throwing herself against Terrence's chest.

"I told you, I was just a silly girl back then. Besides, most of it wasn't even me—it was my friends! Why do you still hate me so much?"

Heart aching, Terrence brushed away her tears.

"Denise, that's enough. Don't go too far!"

The urge to argue burned in me, but his sharp rebuke smothered it to embers.

Even though I had already decided to leave, why did my chest still ache so violently?

Why—when he knew exactly how much I hated her—would he ask me to forgive, to erase the past as if it never happened?

Back in our senior year of high school, because Sienna's crush once spoke a few extra words to me, I became her target.

Every morning, my desk was filled with vile things: dead rats, bloody sanitary pads, even used condoms.

My homework mysteriously vanished after I handed it in.

Rumors spread that I was selling myself outside of school. Boys from other classes came to me, asking crudely how much I charged per night.

After school, her lackeys would drag me into the girls' bathroom by my hair.

They snapped humiliating photos, singed off my eyebrows with a lighter, pressed cigarette butts into my skin as if I were an ashtray.

The sound of sizzling flesh mixed with their laughter, scars were carved into my back—scars that would never fade.

When Terrence first saw them, the man who hadn’t shed a tear even when his own legs were broken trembled as he kissed each mark.

Hot tears fell onto my back, searing straight into my heart.

He whispered, “Denise... just give me a little more time. I'll hunt down everyone who ever hurt you and make them pay."

And he did as he promised.

The powerful, untouchable Terrence avenged me, except for one person.

The one who escaped was Sienna, conveniently studying abroad.

And it was on this last step that Terrence lost his way—because he fell in love with the very woman who once tormented me.

My silence stretched too long, and he mistook it for dissatisfaction.

His eyes lingered on me for a few seconds. The words of reproach circling his lips softened into a curt, "Get in the car."

Sienna wiped her fake tears and smiled sweetly, playing innocent. "I knew Denise was kind. She would definitely forgive me."

She reached toward me, her hands lacquered in the same blood-red polish I remembered all too well.

Instinctively, I stepped back.

But then, like the venomous creature she was, her fingers dug sharply into the soft flesh of my waist.

I gasped, raising my hand to shove her off.

She took the chance to stumble backward deliberately.

And in Terrence's eyes, the scene became something else entirely—not her cruelty, but my petty act of revenge.