The skin beneath his brows was flushed red, his eyes burning.

The moment he saw me, he let out a soft chuckle.

"Alice, you’re getting harder and harder to control."

He pressed me against the sofa, yet even now, he still placed a hand on my waist to keep me from hitting the armrest.

His gaze was dark, like a raging storm.

"Where’s Lily Shaws?"

I tilted my head up and asked, but he only scoffed lightly.

"She’s gone."

"You left the house with her this morning."

"I got rid of her a long time ago."

A strange, unnameable feeling stirred in my chest.

I looked away, unwilling to meet his eyes.

His forehead lightly rested against mine.

For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of wetness in his dark eyes.

"Alice, you didn’t drink your milk today, did you? Did you throw it away as soon as I left?"

I stayed silent.

Yes, I hadn’t touched milk in days.

Maybe I was just as stubborn as Ethan—once I didn’t want to do something, no one could make me.

But Ethan never cared whether I was willing or not.

A fresh glass of warm milk was soon placed in front of me.

He sat across from me, staring intently.

"Drink it."

I knew the milk itself didn’t matter.

What mattered to him was whether I would listen.

I pressed my lips together, refusing to look at him.

Over the past few weeks, I tried to resist, but the outcome was never in my favor.

Tonight would probably be no different.

I refused to drink, so Ethan grabbed my chin, ready to force it down my throat.

Somehow, I could tell that he was angry again.

I clenched my teeth and resisted until, in the end, he let out a sigh.

Holding my gaze, he tilted his head back and took a sip of the milk himself.

Then, gripping my chin, he kissed me.

My teeth were pried apart, and the liquid slid past my lips, invading my mouth.

The cloying sweetness of milk was mixed with the recklessness of a drunk man who had lost all restraint.

It made me feel sick—like something was stuck in my chest, suffocating me.

I couldn't hold it in any longer.

Tears welled up and spilled over as I sobbed, and only then did he finally stop.

The night was silent and merciless.

I stared at the vase of dried flowers by the entryway for a long time.

Eventually, his voice broke the stillness.

Low. Hoarse. Fractured.

He pulled me into his arms, his body always unbearably warm, burning against my skin.

Over and over, he murmured apologies in my ear.

"Don’t cry. I was wrong, Alice. It’s my fault..."

"Please, stop crying... okay?"

At that moment, I almost believed that, all along, I had been someone he cherished.

…

A man who was satisfied was always easy to reason with.

I tested his limits by saying I didn’t want to see Lily again.

The next day, I saw her tearfully packing her suitcase.

I couldn't understand Ethan anymore.

He wasn’t the kind of man who obeyed my words so easily.

And besides, wasn’t Lily his first love?

When something didn’t make sense to me, I usually just asked.

But all he did was narrow his eyes and ruffle my hair—his usual way of brushing me off.

"Alice, you were never anyone’s replacement."

See? Men always knew how to spin pretty words.

As long as he didn’t want to, he would never tell me his real intentions.

The only one being played here was me.

…

Maybe it was the stifling summer heat, but even the housekeeper’s best meals hadn’t tempted my appetite these past few days.

Forcing down the last bite of pork chop and pasta, I rushed to the bathroom and threw up, gripping the toilet for support.

At that moment, my heart suddenly skipped a beat—fast and erratic.

I hadn’t had my period in months.

…

With Ethan’s lack of restraint and the fact that he never gave me any birth control, this outcome seemed inevitable.

I was pregnant.

Ethan probably didn’t know yet.

I stared blankly at my flat stomach, lost in thought.

The sad part was, did I even have a say in whether to keep this child or not?

Lately, Ethan had been coming home early.

And the moment he walked through the door, he would pull me into his arms.

Sometimes, I struggled to reconcile this man with the one who used to kick me to the ground the moment he got bored.

At some point, his bottom line had shifted—lowered to an extent I never thought possible.

Sometimes, I overheard his phone calls with his friends.

It was probably one of them inviting him out for a game of cards.

He let out a low chuckle, his gaze dropping to where I was curled up on the couch.

"I’m keeping my wife company."

A burst of exaggerated groans and jeers erupted from the other end, loud enough for me to hear.

"Still spoiling that crazy little thing of yours…?"

Their voices faded, laced with disdain.

Yeah. In Ethan’s circle of friends, that was exactly how they saw me.

A lunatic. A mess. The unhinged girl who refused to be the perfect Mrs. Chambers and instead spent her days kicking up storms.

…

One night, I had a nightmare.

Or maybe it wasn’t a dream at all. Maybe it was just a memory.

Ethan, leading a group of guys, had me cornered in the classroom.

He read my test scores out loud, his voice ringing through the space.

I had been so drained from their constant torment that I never had the energy to focus on school.

My grades were a disaster, utterly humiliating.

But Ethan was always first. He had never been anything but first.

He dangled my test paper above my head, his grin dripping with mockery.

"OMG, how can you be this stupid?"

I jolted awake, the distant hum of cicadas drifting in from outside.

The night stretched endlessly, swallowing everything in its darkness.

Beside me, his breathing was steady and light.

I straddled him, my hands tightening around his throat.

In the dim light, he lay there, silent, watching me with quiet resignation.

"Planning to strangle me?"

"Ethan Chambers, you were the one who dragged me into hell."

I spoke softly, fingers slowly curling, pressing into his skin.

He just looked at me.

I thought—one day, there would come a moment when I wouldn’t hesitate to finally end his life.

Yet, even though he didn’t resist, I still couldn’t go through with it.

…

At noon, someone I least wanted to see showed up at the house.

Even after all these years apart, the sight of her still made me instinctively tremble.

Serena Chambers—Ethan’s younger sister.

Back when Ethan bullied me the worst, Serena had stood up for me.

I foolishly believed she was my one ray of light, my salvation in the chaos.

She told me not to be afraid of her brother.

She swore she would protect me, that no one would dare touch me as long as she was around.

Only later did I realize that she only helped me because she was fighting with Ethan at the time.

And the moment they made up, she turned on me, finding new ways to torment me instead.

She once led a group of girls to corner me in the bathroom, forcing me to take humiliating photos.

In the end, every single picture ended up in Ethan’s hands.

The memory was so unbearable that just seeing Serena again nearly made me rush to the bathroom to throw up.

She hated me just as much.

When Ethan brought me back and forced me into this marriage, she had caused the biggest scene.

She screamed at me to my face, saying I wasn’t worthy, demanding to know why, of all people, her brother chose me.

Now, seeing me again, her expression was just as hostile.

But I was hoping for a fight, so I met her glare head-on.

She had always been the entitled, spoiled type.

Seeing me act this way, she crossed her arms and let out a mocking laugh.

"Alice Quinn, my brother has spoiled you far too much."

I kept quiet.

"I'm telling you now, you and I are sworn enemies from this moment on. Don't think for a second that I'll ever accept you marrying into our family."

Honestly, sometimes she was as childish as a little kid.

I had no idea why she was here today, but her attempts at provocation were utterly pointless.

…

"Brother! Can you just break up with this woman already?"

It wasn't until Ethan came home that I finally understood her reason for showing up.

So, after all that, it was just about stopping our marriage.

On that, we actually shared the same goal.

Ethan reached out, intending to ruffle my hair, but I dodged him.

His gaze lowered slightly, his voice deep and calm.

"Not happening."

Serena stomped her foot in frustration, shooting me a furious glare.

I rolled my eyes in response, only to catch Ethan watching me.

He let out a quiet chuckle.

"Brother! Can you stop indulging her?! Look at yourself—you’re completely different because of her…"

Ethan didn’t respond.

At the dinner table, Serena kept chattering away until Ethan finally spoke.

"Eat quietly."

Only then did she stop.

The rest of the meal passed in silence.

Not that it made much difference to me—I barely had an appetite.

And no matter what I did, the nausea wouldn't go away.

After dinner, Ethan stepped away to take a call, leaving just me and Serena at the table.

I had no interest in staying, but as I got up to leave, she suddenly called out to me.

A wave of dizziness hit me. Even my vision blurred slightly as I turned to look at her.

That was when she finally bared her claws.

"Alice Quinn, I still have those photos of you. I can’t help but take them out every now and then. A real trip down memory lane, you know…

"Do you have any idea how pathetic you looked in them? Maybe you were just born for that kind of thing. You? You’re not even worthy of being my brother's sex partner—"

She never got to finish that sentence because I had already grabbed the teapot from the table and thrown its contents straight at her.

Her piercing scream shattered the silence, echoing through the house.

Water smeared her perfectly done makeup, ruining her delicate face.

Her shrieking, of course, drew her brother’s attention.

"She threw water at me!"

Her voice trembled, thick with tears, loud and clear.

Ethan stood beside her, watching me in silence.

I didn’t know what was wrong with me.

Before, no matter how much Ethan provoked me, I had never lost my temper like this.

But this time… I couldn’t stop myself.

I stared at Serena, my voice slow and deliberate.

"You’re the real shameless woman—"

For a moment, there was nothing but stunned silence.

Even Serena had stopped crying.

It lasted a few seconds, maybe more.

Then, a sharp sting burned across my cheek.

It took me a moment to process it, my tongue pressing against the inside of my mouth in disbelief.

Ethan had slapped me.

All because I said one bad word about his sister.

I looked up at him, eyes widening slightly, but the chandelier’s glare was too harsh—I couldn’t quite see his expression.

Ethan stood frozen, even longer than I had.

Then, almost frantically, he called my name.

But I couldn’t hear him anymore.

And I didn’t want to.

Reaching for the fruit knife on the table, I drove it toward my stomach.

The cruelest part?

Even at that moment, some small part of me still wished Ethan could become the father of my child.