After three years of relentless pursuit, Kimberly Kidman married the man infamous for his chronic procrastination—Wilford Vanbrugh.

First year of marriage, when she collapsed with acute appendicitis and needed to be rushed into surgery, he sat in front of the television, his eyes fixed on a baseball game. “Hold on a sec ,this round’s almost over.”

Second year of marriage, when she was kidnapped, and the ransom deadline was only five minutes away, he was still in the shower.

When he finally picked up the phone, his tone was lazy and even mocking.

“If you can’t wait,” he said, “go ahead and kill her. I don't mind.”

Third year of marriage, when Kimberly fell from a height and began to miscarry, she needed a family member’s signature for emergency surgery.

Once again, Wilford didn’t lift his gaze from his game console.

“We can always make children,” he murmured. “But I can't lose this game.”

Desperation gave Kimberly strength. Trembling, she dragged herself upright and signed the consent form herself.

As she lay on the table, feeling the stillborn child being completely taken from her body, the last fragile thread of love she had for Wilford quietly broke.

When the anesthesia wore off, she went straight to the Vanbrugh Ventures’ building. She stormed into his office and smashed everything in it..

She looked half-crazed, her voice hoarse from rage and heartbreak as she roared, “Work is more important than me! Meetings are more important than I! Even your damn games are more important than me!”

“God damn it, Wilford! Do you even remember that I’m your wife?!” she snapped.

Glass fragments glittered across the floor like ice. She stood in the wreckage, her hospital gown stained red.

But Wilford, as always, didn’t even look up. His pen moved briskly across the page as he spoke in that same detached tone.

“I still have work to finish, you see. You’ll probably have to wait one more hour.”

Cold, selfish, arrogant—that was Wilford.

What kind of blindness had made her love a douchebag like him in the very first place? She no longer had an idea.

Suddenly, from outside the office, there came the sharp sound of porcelain shattering—a teacup.

For the first time, Wilford’s expression cracked.

“Khloe!”

He shot up from his chair and rushed out the door. Outside, his secretary, Khloe Jolie, stood frozen beside the spilled tea. He grabbed her hand, his face full of panic.

“Are you all right? Did it burn you? Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital!”

From the moment the cup broke to the instant he scooped her into his arms and hurried downstairs, not even a minute had passed.

No one would ever guess this man supposedly suffered from procrastination.

Around them, whispers rippled through the hall.

“Whoa, Sir Wilford really dotes on Ms. Jolie, huh?”

“Yeah. In fact, he never lets her do dirty or anything tiring, and when she needs help, he’s always the first to come running.”

“I heard she’s actually his first love. No wonder he’s so attentive to her.”

“Shh! His wife’s still here…”

Those words cut into Kimberly’s heart like a poisoned blade—slow, merciless, and deep.

Back then, when the Vanbrughs went bankrupt and everyone avoided Wilford as if he carried the plague, only Kimberly dared to step forward. She had loved him for three years.

She loved him so much that she carried one hundred fifty million dollars in her hands, stood before him and proposed, “Marry me, and this over two hundred million is all yours.”

Wilford agreed. From that moment on, he treated her with devoted tenderness.

Kimberly loved flowers, so he filled their courtyard with roses.

Her palate was delicate and hard to please, so he spent three months in the kitchen, mastering every dish she liked.

She was born with anemia, so every month, he drew about a quart of blood just to keep a supply ready for her.

Over time, Kimberly truly believed they would be happy for the rest of their lives.

But when the Vanbrughs bounced back to power, Wilford drove the Kidmans to bankruptcy, and soon after, scandal after scandal linked his name with Khloe’s.

Only then did Kimberly finally realize—Wilford actually hated her deep down…

He hated her for buying his dignity with one hundred fifty million dollars.

He hated her for tearing him away from his beloved Khloe.

Just as Kimberly’s heart began to crumble, the doors burst open. A group of bodyguards stormed in, grabbed her roughly, and dragged her out.

They shoved her into a car, speeding toward the hospital.

Moments later, they forced her to her knees before Wilford and Khloe.

Kimberly’s heart pounded violently as she bit back her anger, “Wilford! What exactly do you want?!”

His gaze was sharp enough to slice through glass. The next second, he struck her across the face hard!

“If you hadn’t caused a scene, would Khloe have been hurt? How bold of you to still have the nerve to yell here, huh?!”

The metallic tang of blood filled Kimberly’s mouth, and she looked at him with eyes wide in disbelief.

He’d never once raised his hand to her—and now it was for the sake of another woman!

Before Kimberly could even recover from the shock, Wilford’s voice came again, colder than ice.

“Listen, Kimberly. People must pay for their mistakes!”

“Since you’re the reason Khloe’s skin got burned by hot water, then you’ll have to give her yours!”

In an instant, terror surged through Kimberly’s veins. Her whole body trembled, and she shook her head violently, protesting, “No! No!”

But how could her fragile strength compare to the force of armed men?

Within seconds, she was dragged into the operating room.

Rough ropes pinned her to the cold metal table. A filthy rag was shoved into her mouth, muffling her screams.

Then came the chill of the scalpel… and the searing agony that followed.

The pain tore through her entire body, wave after wave.

Tears streamed down her face as she watched, powerless, while chunks of her skin were cut away from her arms.

At the edge of consciousness, a memory surfaced—her wedding night with Wilford.

He made a promise then. “Honey, I’ll make sure you’re happy for the rest of your life.”

But reality was cruel.

Not long ago, the baby she was carrying had died in agony.

Now, her own life was slipping away drop by drop.

Was this the happiness he promised?

Two hours later, the torture finally ended.

When the doctors were done, Kimberly was little more than a ruin of blood and bruises.

Wilford looked at her with a warning. “Remember this. Don’t ever make trouble to hurt Khloe again.”

Just like that, he turned and walked away without looking back.

As she watched his retreating figure, rage, grief, and hatred surged like a tidal wave inside her chest.

With trembling hands, she reached for her phone and dialed a familiar number—the one belonging to Wilford’s greatest enemy.

She began, “You once said, that I should leave Wilford and marry you.I agree!”

“From now on, we’ve got the same enemy!”

A low and deep chuckle came from the other end of the line. “Baby, you should’ve said yes to me a long time ago.”

“I told you. No one but me is worthy of you,” the man added confidently.

Even after three years, Wayne Gardner was still the same—straightforward and unwaveringly loyal.

He had fallen in love with Kimberly the first time he saw her, and he had chased her persistently for five long years.

Even after she married Wilford, he never gave up on her.

On her wedding day, Wayne had even promised her, “If you ever decide to get a divorce, come find me. I’ll be waiting for you.”

After signing the contract with him, Kimberly wasted no time. She went straight to the immigration office and filed her paperwork.

In less than a month, she would finally be free from the hell that was Wilford!

She drove back to the villa as fast as she could, headed directly for the study, and opened the safe. Inside was a divorce agreement, already bearing his signature.

He had signed it before their wedding as proof of his loyalty.

If he ever cheated during their marriage, she had every right to end it immediately and, on top of that, make him leave with nothing.

She took a picture of the document and sent it to her lawyer. Just as she was about to close the safe, she noticed something else inside—a flash drive.

Something about it made her uneasy. She had a feeling that whatever was on that small device would completely change the way she saw everything.

Bracing herself, she plugged it into the computer.

In an instant, the screen lit up with a video. It was Wilford and Khloe—together, naked, intimate.

There was not just one video. There were ninety-nine—every single one recorded from the night of Kimberly’s wedding three years ago up to the present day.

Wilford and Khloe had slept together ninety-nine times while he was married!

The sound of their moans and the rhythm of their bodies hitting the sheets pierced through Kimberly’s chest like knives.

She had once believed that he sincerely loved her, even just a little.

It hit her now—all the warmth, all the tenderness, all the devotion… It had been nothing but a performance to him!

With pain and rage surging through her like a storm, she pulled the flash drive from the computer and shoved it into her bag.

She swore—one month from now would not only mark her new beginning. It would also be the day Wilford’s reputation would come crashing down!

Just then, noises came from downstairs. As she descended the stairs, her face stiffened.

Khloe was standing in the middle of the living room, directing a group of bodyguards as they moved her luggage into the villa.

When she noticed Kimberly, she lifted her chin with a smug grin.

“You probably haven’t heard the news yet, have you? Well, Wilford gave me this villa as a birthday present!”

Her eyes glimmered with arrogance as she sneered, “Bitch, you may be his wife, but so what? Unfortunately for you, the woman he doesn’t love is the real mistress.”

Then, she waved her hand and ordered the bodyguards to throw Kimberly’s luggage out of the villa.

Watching her belongings hit the floor one by one, Kimberly didn’t hold back her anger.

The next second, the sound of a sharp slap broke through the air.

Khloe’s head whipped to the side, and her cheek instantly turned red and swollen.

“You’ve got no shame!” Kimberly shot back. “As long as I’m still married to him, you’re the homewrecker everyone despises! And if I divorce him? You’re a scavenger picking through the garbage I dumped!”

She expected Khloe to lash out, to scream or fight back.

Instead, that homewrecker suddenly dropped to the floor, her eyes filling with fake tears as she clutched her cheek.

“Mrs. Vanbrugh,” she cried, “I know you hate me, but you can’t just hit me. And you definitely shouldn’t insult Wilford like that!”

Before Kimberly could respond, a powerful force shoved her backward. Her head slammed against the wall with a loud crack, and blood immediately started running down her forehead.

Wilford rushed to Khloe’s side, holding her carefully as if she were made of glass.

“I’m sorry, Khloe,” he apologized, trying to comfort her. “I was too late. I failed to protect you.”

Khloe’s viciousness vanished completely. She looked up at him with teary eyes, pretending to be fragile and helpless.

“Wilford, I didn’t mean to make things worse between you and your wife,” she said, her voice trembling. “But she really went too far this time. She hit me, and she called you… garbage.”

The sight of the red handprint on her cheek only made his expression harden. When he turned toward Kimberly, all the tenderness disappeared, replaced by nothing but fury and disgust.

“Kimberly!”

All of a sudden, he grabbed his wife by the throat and squeezed until she could barely breathe.

“I warned you not to hurt her again!” he shouted.

Kimberly’s face turned red as she struggled to breathe, her veins bulging.

Her voice shook when she managed to speak. “Let go of me! She provoked me first!”

Before she could finish, he threw her against the corner of the room.

The bodyguards moved instantly at his signal, forcing her to the floor.

Then, his voice came again, low and merciless as if it rose from hell.

“You slapped her once,” he said through a clenched jaw. “I’ll make sure you pay for it a hundred times over!”

He didn’t hesitate. “Do it,” he ordered his men.

With that, the sound of the first slap echoed through the room, followed by another… and another. Each hit landed harder than the last until blood trickled from Kimberly’s mouth.

While she was being beaten, her husband knelt beside his mistress, gently applying ointment to her cheek, comforting her, his eyes full of warmth and affection.

He didn’t even glance at his own wife!

At that moment, she ironically remembered everything. She remembered her husband, who used to stay up all night just because she had a fever…

The husband who chose to get a vasectomy so she would never have to endure childbirth pain…

The husband who was so willing to sacrifice his life that he threw himself in front of a speeding car to protect her...

That man no longer existed.

By the hundredth slap, Kimberly could no longer stand. Her vision went dark, and she collapsed to the floor.

When she woke up, she found herself in a hospital bed. The television mounted on the wall was playing the news on repeat. The footage showed her being beaten, the scene replaying again and again for the entire city to see.

On-screen, Wilford faced the reporters. His tone was merciless.

“Anyone who dares to lay a hand on Khloe,” he warned, “will end up just like Kimberly.”

Overnight, Kimberly became the laughingstock of all the elites in their circle.

Even the nurses outside the door were whispering.

“I heard Mr. Vanbrugh bought out the whole hospital just to treat Ms. Jolie.”

“That’s not even the half of it! This morning, a nurse doing rounds saw the two of them… doing ‘that’ in the ward. They really looked so in love!”

“Yeah, poor Kimberly…. She gave him everything, but she still can’t compete with one word from Ms. Jolie.”

The wound on Kimberly’s face throbbed faintly, but it couldn’t compare to the ache in her chest.

Fighting back the pain, she forced herself to finish the discharge paperwork alone.

When she passed by Khloe’s ward, Kimberly couldn’t help but glance inside.

Through the glass, she saw Wilford sitting by Khloe’s bedside, gently blowing on a bowl of hot soup before spoon-feeding it to her. His voice was soft and coaxing.

But Khloe pouted and complained, her tone full of mock anger. “Wilford, are you sure you never had any feelings for Kimberly at all?”

Wilford gave a helpless, indulgent smile. “Of course. The one I love has always been you,” he reassured her.

“From the start, I only ever used Kimberly. Now that the company’s back on its feet, she’s of no use to me anymore,” he explained casually.

When Kimberly heard that, a sharp sting burned behind her eyes. As she glared at him secretly, her whole body trembled with fury.

She didn’t even remember how she made it out of the hospital—only that she walked through the pouring rain for what felt like hours.

When she finally reached the villa, she quietly packed her things and left for a hotel.

Back when Wilford had sought revenge against the Kidmans, he’d forced her parents to flee overseas. Their old family home was gone, too, forever.

But she had stayed—for the child in her belly and for the last shred of love she still had for Wilford.

Who could’ve known that the baby would be gone, and that love would vanish with it?

Exhausted in body and soul, Kimberly eventually collapsed.

When she came to, she found herself trapped inside a massive glass water cube.

The rising water level made it hard to breathe, the threat of death closing in fast.

She stood on tiptoe, gasping for air, staring in disbelief at Wilford outside the glass.

He sat lazily on the couch, flicking a lighter open and shut. The flame reflected in his cold, unreadable eyes as he watched her struggle.

In his gaze, she even saw a flicker of murderous intent.

“Wilford! What the hell are you doing?!” she shouted.

The lighter closed with a sharp click. Wilford stood, walking toward her, his tone dripping with malice.

“Khloe lost control last night,” he replied. “The nurse told me it was because you went to provoke her again.”

Just those words alone sealed Kimberly’s fate.

She let out a bitter laugh, choking back the water that splashed into her mouth. “Wilford! Don’t you dare slander me! I never went near Khloe! If you don’t believe me, check the security footage!”

She lifted her head above the water, struggling for breath, her face turning blue from lack of oxygen.

But he ignored her pain. His voice rose in anger. “Still denying it? At a time like this, you’re accusing Khloe and the nurse of lying? Wow, Kimberly, you really are a wicked woman!”

Then, he turned toward his men and ordered, “Pour it in.”

A sense of dread crawled up Kimberly’s spine.

She watched in horror as the bodyguard dumped a bucket of writhing snakes into the water.

In an instant, countless serpents slithered toward her, biting into her skin. Waves of sharp, burning pain spread through her body.

Eyes wide with terror, Kimberly slammed herself against the glass again and again.

“Wilford! This is illegal imprisonment! Attempted murder! I swear I’ll call the cops and have you arrested!”

Even with that threat, Wilford didn’t flinch even in the slightest. Instead, he laughed, mocking her.

“Call the cops? Kimberly, have you forgotten who I am?” He sneered. “I’m the CEO of Vanbrugh Ventures—the head of the family! With me here, who would dare take your case?”

His tone hardened. “Just take your punishment. Every ounce of pain Khloe suffered, you’ll pay back a thousandfold.”

And with that, he turned and left without another glance.

Water surged from all directions, closing in like countless hands from hell, gripping Kimberly’s throat and dragging her into darkness.

Her mind flashed back to that day three years ago. When she’d made a grave mistake, Wilford had taken the blame for her without any hesitation.

He’d endured a hundred lashes of the family’s whip, his back torn open, yet he’d still smiled at her through the blood.

“Don’t be afraid. Even if the sky falls, I’ll hold it up for you,” he said gently.

But now, Khloe said one flawed lie, and that same man from years ago wanted Kimberly dead!

Her body went limp, prohibiting her from even struggling. A giant net fished her out of the tank like a helpless animal, stripped of all dignity.

She coughed violently, water flooding her lungs as tears streamed down her face like broken pearls.

The bodyguard beside her spoke in a chilling monotone. “Ma’am, Sir Wilford said you’re to stay in the confinement room and reflect. Once you admit your mistake, you can come out.”

The words hit her like a bomb.

The confinement room? The one Wilford used for his enemies—sealed off from light for years now and filled with corpses?!

A cold shiver ran through her body. She stumbled back, shaking her head. “No! Where’s Wilford? I want to see him!”

But the guard gave her no chance to resist. He shoved her inside.

And as she fell, she landed on something hard—something that cracked beneath her weight.

The brittle sound of bones breaking made her scalp prickle with horror.

For three days and nights, Kimberly lived in that nightmare, terrified and starving.

When her body finally gave out from dehydration, she fainted. Only then did the guards drag her to the hospital.