During the seven days I was hospitalized, Luther never reached out.

To him, I was nothing more than an afterthought, less significant than a stranger.

Through Stella’s social media, I saw photos of them indulging in passionate bliss at the apartment.

In one of the pictures, Luther held Stella in his arms, his embrace filled with affection. She smiled like a blooming flower, their necks marked with unmistakable traces of intimacy.

Before, I would have rushed over, tears streaming down my face, demanding an explanation.

But this time, I simply clicked the like button and then paused.

On the day of my discharge, my best friend Nina brought my mother’s urn to the hospital.

Her voice choked with emotion. "By the time I got there… there were only bones left."

"You and your mother were so devoted to him, but he… he’s nothing but a beast!"

For Luther Valdez, I brought along my mother away from our home and moved to this city.

My mother treated him like her own son, staying up all night whenever he fell ill.

My mother always said, "Luther grew up without parents since he was a child. If we treat him well, maybe we can make up for the love he never had."

However, even after she died saving him by being struck by a car in his place, he still did not see my mother as family.

The moment Stella said, "It’s my birthday, I want to have my party here," he trampled on my mother’s last shred of dignity without hesitation.

He coldly pushed me aside and I naïvely thought he was just leaving me to handle other matters.

When I finally rushed back to the ancestral home, what awaited me was a scene so horrific it was beyond words.

I took my mother’s urn in my hands, my gaze hollow as I looked at Nina. "Thank you, Nina."

After that, like a soulless puppet, I resigned from the company.

The home that was once filled with warmth now felt unbearably cold.

Every corner carried traces of my mother and her presence lingered in the air. But those once-comforting memories had turned into blades, cutting deep with every touch.

I stared blankly at my mother’s urn, my vision blurring as silent tears welled up.

"Mom, I’m sorry… I’ll take you home."

"What home are you talking about?" Luther, who had been absent all this time, suddenly appeared at the door.

I did not even want to acknowledge him. Without a word, I picked up my phone and began booking a flight.

Luther curled his lips awkwardly as if trying to ease the tension, then spoke as if talking to himself.

"Stella received your gift. She said she forgives you for what happened that day."

I froze for a moment before realizing that he thought the package I sent was an apology gift for Stella.

They had been so busy indulging themselves these past few days that they had not even opened it yet.

A cold laugh escaped my lips as I said, "That wasn’t for her. It was for you."

Luther’s expression darkened and he spoke in an annoyed tone, "Because of your mother, Stella didn’t get to celebrate her birthday properly. Shouldn’t you be the one to make it up to her?"

The anger that had been simmering inside me suddenly ignited.

"Luther, what right do you have to demand an apology from me?" My voice was sharp with fury. "Don’t forget that my mother died saving you!"

For a brief moment, Luther was at a loss for words, but it did not take long for him to regain his usual self-righteous demeanor.

"Stella’s birthday was ruined because of your commotion. You should take responsibility, right?"

"Besides, I never asked your mother to save me, so don’t try to guilt-trip me with morality."

I trembled with rage. Without thinking, I grabbed the nearest cup and hurled it at him.

Luther dodged to the side and the cup shattered against the wall, pieces scattering across the floor.

"You are such a shrew!" He looked at me with pure disgust. "I can’t stay in this house anymore."

With that, he walked to the fridge, pulled out a box of dumplings and left without looking back.

My heart tightened as I watched him hold the last box of cake my mother had made for me.

"You can’t take it! This is all I have left from my mother!" I reached out, desperate to stop him.

Before that, Luther kicked me hard in the stomach, his voice venomous.

"You’re making a big deal over a cake? It’s your mother’s blessing that Stella even wants to eat something she made!"

The force of the kick sent me crashing to the ground and my head slammed into the corner of the table. Blood began to drip from my forehead, staining the floor beneath me.

As I saw my blood mix with the memories of my mother’s body being torn apart by the wild dog, I felt something inside me snap.

I screamed, my voice raw and fury. "Luther, you're not human! You're a monster!"

"I want a divorce! I can’t stay with you anymore!"

"Fine! I’ll sign it right now!" Luther’s tone was dismissive, almost bored.

He quickly pulled out two sheets of paper, scribbled his name and cruelly pressed his fingerprints into the blood pooling on the floor.

He sneered at me, his words dripping with scorn. "Priscilla, if you have the guts, go ahead and draft the divorce papers."

"You’re nothing. Pregnant with someone else’s child. Who would want you if you leave me?"

With that, he slammed the door and walked out without a second thought.

Luther did not return for days.

I did not care. I dragged my exhausted body and began packing.

It felt oddly freeing when he was not here and I no longer had to endure his indifference and cruelty.

It was not until the early hours of the morning, just before I left, that he came back, holding a crumpled bag in his hands.

Seeing the large suitcases by the door, he looked at me in surprise. "Where are you going?"

I answered calmly, without a hint of emotion. "Back to my hometown."

I expected at least a few questions, maybe even a touch of concern. However, all he did was nod and hand me the bag.

"I was loud the other day... don’t be angry."

I had seen that bag on Stella’s WhatsApp Status the day before, tossed carelessly next to a discarded Hermès bag.

I did not even spare him a glance, simply replying, "Put it on the table."

He mistook my indifference for acceptance, sighing in relief before continuing. "Are you leaving today? If you are, then you need to reschedule. You and I are going to meet some clients at noon."

I responded calmly, "Socializing? Isn’t that Stella’s job as your secretary?"

His face hardened at my words, his tone suddenly stiffening.

"Stella got gastroenteritis from eating your mother’s cake, so she can’t drink."

"It’s all your mother’s fault. You need to make up for her sins."

I looked at him steadily, choosing not to challenge the absurdity of his words.

After Stella returned from abroad, Luther had arranged for her to join the company as his secretary.

But whenever there were social events involving alcohol, he would drag me along, letting other people drink me under the table while he and Stella laughed and chatted, completely indifferent to my discomfort.

It was not Stella who could not drink. It was clear that Luther did not want her to.

"The doctor said I can’t drink because of my condition," I said, gesturing to my forehead and stomach.

His eyes followed my hand to my stomach and for a brief moment, he seemed taken aback.

Today, I wore a tight dress and my belly, once slightly swollen, was now flat.

If he had any care for me at all, he would have noticed the change in my body.

After a beat, Luther spoke again, "If we drink red wine, it won’t affect the child."

I could not help but let out a bitter smile, but he took it as agreement, grabbing my hand and leading me out the door.

My physical weakness left me too drained to resist, so I was helplessly dragged forward by him.

With the passenger window half-open, Stella poked her head out and, in a playful tone, apologized.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Valdez. It's all because Luther spoils me so much, he doesn't want me going to drink with those guys."

Before I could respond, Luther smiled and pinched her cheek.

"Those guys like to get a little too comfortable after drinking. How could I let you go?"

A cold, sharp feeling hit my heart as if it had fallen into an icy abyss and all the love I once had was drained away in an instant.

Luther opened the back door, shoved me inside and then walked around to the front to get in the driver’s seat.

Once the car was moving, Luther and Stella spoke and laughed as though I did not even exist.

I sat quietly in the back, staring blankly out the window, my mind numb.

Suddenly, Stella looked at me with a glint of provocation before turning to Luther with a soft, flirtatious voice.

"Luther, the maid cat sexy lingerie you bought for me just arrived."

Luther's eyes darkened immediately and his Adam's apple bobbed as he struggled to keep his composure.

Moments later, he pulled over to the side of the road and said coldly, without even looking at me.

"Stella and I are going back to the apartment to grab some things. You head to the hotel to meet the client and make sure you keep those men happy. This is important for my promotion."

I met his eyes quietly, then let out a laugh.

The sound of my laughter echoed through the small car, full of contempt.

For a brief second, panic flashed across his face. The next moment, he unlocked the door and gestured for me to get out.

I said nothing but added, "By the way, don’t forget to open the gift I gave you."

A flicker of confusion crossed Luther’s face as though he had already forgotten the gift I mentioned.

After a beat, he regained his indifferent expression and said, "Just get out. Don’t waste time."

I stepped out of the car and as I turned, I saw Luther opening a bag of potato chips and handing them to Stella with an almost loving gesture.

Once upon a time, I would also have snacks in Luther's car.

Unfortunately, all I got in return were harsh words and disdain.

"You're so messy, crumbs everywhere. It's like you're a slob. It's disgusting!"

"You're as uncouth as you are, worse than a beggar. Don’t eat in my car again!"

I watched the car drive off, the dust cloud swirling around me and it felt as though my heart was being pierced by countless sharp needles.

I lifted my hand, staring at the wedding ring on my finger. It once symbolized our love, holding all the hopes I had for the future.

Now, it felt like a searing brand, constantly reminding me of my own foolishness and failure.

Clenching my teeth, I pulled the ring off and hurled it into the sewer by the side of the road.

I then flagged down a taxi and headed straight to my house to pack my things before heading for the airport.

Just as I was about to board the plane, Luther called.

As soon as the call connected, his voice blared through the speaker: "Where are you? Why didn’t you go to the hotel to meet the clients?"

"Do you have any idea how much this banquet affects my promotion?"

To him, my safety and dignity were worth far less than his career.

I could not hold back anymore. "You want me to go, even though those men could do something to me? What do you think I am?"

"Luther, I’m a human being. I have my own flesh and blood. I feel pain, I can have sorrow and…"