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.

After a full week in the hospital, Wilford never visited his wife once.

Every day, though, he posted updates about his sweet daily life with Khloe.

When Kimberly was being resuscitated, teetering between life and death, Wilford was at an amusement park with Khloe, kissing her beneath the Ferris wheel lights.

When Kimberly was in the ICU, her fate uncertain, he was by the ocean with Khloe, watching the sun set and the tide roll in.

And when Kimberly’s body temperature plummeted and she was rushed back into surgery, Wilford was tangled with Khloe in a hotel bed.

When Kimberly finally recovered, she stared at her phone. She trembled with fury as she typed a comment under Wilford’s latest post.

[A bitch and a jerk. May you both rot together!]

What you don’t see, you don’t think about. Remembering that, she blocked them both.

Then, she started counting down the days until she could leave. She was so excited that she had already bought her plane ticket for a week later.

Once she reached Wayne’s territory, she swore she’d make Wilford pay for every last thing he’d done to her.

That thought alone gave her something to hold onto—a reason to keep going.

But she never expected that Wilford would come after her again… all because of Khloe.

The moment she stepped out of the hospital entrance, a group of bodyguards grabbed her and shoved her into a car. It sped off through the city and stopped in front of a bar.

Kimberly was dragged inside, her still-healing wounds tearing open with every pull. Soon, blood soaked through her clothes.

The deafening rock music made her head pound, and before she could steady herself, someone kicked the back of her knees. She collapsed, landing hard on a floor scattered with glass shards.

The pain was blinding. The glass dug deep into her knees until they were covered in blood. She couldn’t even make a sound.

Wilford and Khloe sat on a leather couch nearby, flirting openly as if Kimberly didn’t even exist.

Her voice trembled with rage. “What the hell do you want from me now?”

Only then did Wilford glance at her, his gaze cold.

“Kimberly, I think you’ve gotten a little too comfortable. Did you forget my warning?” His tone dripped with mockery. “First, you went to the hospital to provoke Khloe. Now, you’re insulting her online.”

He leaned forward, sneering. “Seriously. Don’t you think you owe her an apology?”

Kimberly let out a short, bitter laugh, then spat a mouthful of blood at his feet. “You want me to apologize to that bitch? Keep dreaming, you jerk!” she cursed in anger.

Instead of getting enraged at her stubbornness and refusal, Wilford merely smiled. He picked up his glass and clinked it against Khloe’s, the two of them drinking together like newlyweds at a toast.

Then, in a voice laced with quiet threat, he said, “If I remember right, your Granny’s medical bills are still being covered by my family, aren’t they?”

“What do you think would happen,” he continued, “if I stopped paying? How long could she live?”

The smile on his lips was faint, but the cruel glint in his eyes froze Kimberly where she knelt.

It felt like someone had stabbed her right in the heart.

Her grandmother was old and frail, bedridden ever since her stroke two years ago—kept alive only by the machines surrounding her bed.

Back when Wilford was still courting her, he used to visit the old woman every week.

He knew better than anyone that her grandmother was Kimberly’s weakness.

And now, he knew exactly how to use it against her!

When Kimberly didn’t respond for a long time, he took out his phone and started dialing the hospital.

“Stop the treatment for the patient in Room 16.”

“No!” Kimberly’s pupils constricted in panic. She lunged to grab the phone.

But the bodyguards pinned her down hard. Left with no other choice now, she surrendered, crying out, “Wilford! I’ll apologize, okay? I’ll do it!”

Her nails dug deep into her palms. She bit her lip until it bled. In the end, she had to ask, “If I apologize to Khloe, you’ll let my grandmother live, right?”

Wilford chuckled softly. “We’ll see first how sincere you are.”

Humiliation surged through her veins like fire. Trembling, Kimberly turned toward Khloe with red eyes.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone to the hospital to provoke you. I also shouldn’t have insulted you online. Please forgive me.”

A victim forced to apologize to her abuser. How absurd.

Khloe showed no trace of guilt. She smiled sweetly and signaled to the waiter.

“Bring ten bottles of the strongest liquor you have,” she said, her tone light. Then, turning back to Kimberly, she added, “Drink all ten, and I’ll forgive you.”

Kimberly’s chest tightened. Her gaze instinctively darted toward Wilford.

She was allergic to alcohol. Back then, he had always protected her from it; he’d drink on her behalf at every party, even when it left him vomiting blood.

Now, he only looked at her with mockery. “You heard her. Do what she says. And don’t give me that nonsense about your alcohol allergy. No one here cares.”

A chill spread through her body. Her heart sank to the bottom of a pit.

Without another word, she grabbed the first bottle, twisted it open, and poured it down her throat.

The liquor burned like fire. It seared her stomach, and angry red rashes spread across her skin almost instantly.

Before she could finish all ten, her body went into shock. The next thing she knew, she was being rushed to the hospital.

She barely had time to recover from the stomach pump before she bolted toward her grandmother’s ward.

Doctors crowded the room, frantically working around the old woman, who was now covered in tubes.

Kimberly’s voice shook as she ran forward. “What’s happening to my grandma?!”

“Her oxygen and IV supply were cut off,” one of the doctors explained urgently. “Her organs are shutting down. We need to operate immediately.”

Her face turned white. “Then what are you waiting for? Start the surgery!” she demanded, her voice rising.

But the doctor only gave her a helpless look.

“Mr. Vanbrugh’s orders were clear. He said if you haven’t finished all ten bottles, and Ms. Jolie hasn’t forgiven you, we’re not allowed to proceed.”

Suddenly, the world seemed to collapse around her.

Hands trembling, she scrambled to dial Wilford’s number, pleading, “Wilford! Please—let them operate! Granny will die!”

On the other end, his voice came out calm, almost bored. “You haven’t finished the drinks yet. What’s the rush?”

He paused, then added coldly, “Besides, didn’t she just have surgery two weeks ago? Missing one won’t kill her, right?”

His voice was edged with impatience, and before Kimberly could beg him, he already slammed the phone down.

The next moment, the heart monitor in the room emitted a terrifying, continuous tone.

The heartbeat line that was supposed to rise and fall on the screen froze all of a sudden—flat… refusing to move.