A child.

A sharp, piercing pain instantly radiated through Winter’s body, spreading to every limb.

On a late spring night last year, a drunken Chris had stumbled into her room by mistake. She could never forget how, in the heat of the moment, he had pressed against her ear and whispered her name.

She became pregnant with his child that very night.

After that, their relationship underwent a subtle shift. Although he still rarely came home, he hired a nutritionist specifically to oversee her daily meals. She truly believed that was the beginning of her happily ever after.

But last winter, when she was already eight months along, the baby’s heartbeat suddenly stopped. The fetus died in her womb, and she was forced to undergo a termination.

Afraid she would be devastated, the medical staff would not let her see the baby even once.

She never got to say goodbye. She never got to touch his tiny hand.

During that time, no one dared to mention the word “child” in front of her. It became a forbidden place in her heart.

Now, hearing it again, she felt as though she had been plunged into ice.

Soft footsteps sounded on the stairs. A servant came up from downstairs.

“Mrs. Xander.”

Winter snapped back to herself. She wiped at her reddened eyes, steadied the tray in her hands, and stepped into the room.

The conversation inside stopped abruptly. The moment Mrs. Xander Sr. saw Winter, her brows knit with pain and regret.

If she had known Winter was upstairs, she never would have brought up the child.

She immediately turned to Chris, hoping he would go to her, but Chris stood there like a block of ice. He gave Winter a casual glance before turning to leave the room.

*

After Mrs. Xander Sr. had fallen asleep, Winter checked her temperature again and made sure the fever had gone down before leaving the room.

That night, Mrs. Xander Sr. insisted that Winter and Chris stay at the Xander estate. She even had the butler, Mr. White, personally escort Winter back to the guesthouse that had once been prepared as their marital home.

The house stood on its own within the Xander estate, a separate building meant for the couple alone.

Winter had no idea where Chris had gone. After leaving Mrs. Xander Sr.’s room earlier, he had disappeared completely.

He had never been one to follow orders. Now that he was firmly in control and no longer needed anyone’s approval, he certainly did not have to listen to the family. It was entirely possible that he had already left the estate.

When she reached the bedroom door, Winter glanced back at Mr. White, who was pulling his phone from his pocket. She let out a quiet sigh.

“Mr. White, you should go get some rest.”

“I can’t, Mrs. Xander,” he said apologetically. “Mrs. Xander Sr. asked me to take photos as proof.”

Mr. White used to address her as Ms. Scott. After she married Chris, even though Chris had never openly acknowledged her as his wife, Mrs. Xander Sr. had made it clear that everyone in the household was to address her properly as Mrs. Xander.

It was obvious that Mrs. Xander Sr. wasn’t reassured at all.

Winter did not know what else to say. She stood at the door, completely drained, and let Mr. White take a couple of photos.

Mr. White nodded with satisfaction at the pictures.

“That will do. I can report back now. Mrs. Xander, please get some rest.”

As he walked away, Winter breathed a sigh of relief. At least Chris wasn't there. She would have the room to herself.

As soon as she closed the door, Winter leaned against it and bent forward, clutching her right leg as pain made it tremble.

She had almost failed to hold it together.

Last night, the man had kicked her right leg hard. Three times. With that kind of force, two more kicks would have crippled her.

Once the police caught them, she would make sure he paid for it.

“Are you waiting for me to come over and carry you?”

A man’s cool voice suddenly broke the silence of the dim room.

Winter jumped in shock. She had not even had time to turn on the lights. She looked toward the sound, and a blurred figure gradually came into focus. A flash of light glinted off a pair of lenses.

Chris stood by the open window, leaning against the sill, a cigarette between his fingers.

Winter looked at him, emotions tangled and unreadable.

So he had not left after all.

He had come back to the room before she did.

It seemed they would be staying here together tonight.

If this had been the past, Winter would have felt flustered, her heart racing with shy anticipation.

But the image of the divorce agreement in the desk drawer flashed through her mind, along with Skyla’s return. Whatever expectations she once had vanished completely.

She did not bother turning on the light. Enduring the pain in her right leg, she walked toward the sofa.

Forget it. She would just make do on the sofa for the night. Once morning came, everything would be fine.

Before she could even reach it, a sudden force yanked her sideways. She lost her balance and fell straight into a broad, warm chest.

Before she could struggle free, the arm around her waist tightened abruptly.

Chris’s warm, damp breath brushed against her ear as he kissed her, sending an instinctive shiver through her body.

This was the first time Chris had touched her since last spring.

In a dizzy blur, she was pressed down onto the sofa. His body blocked out the light, his heat enclosing her completely.

The lingering, heated kisses left her with no strength to resist.

“Grandma said we should have a child.”

The words hit her like a bucket of cold water.

Winter thought of the divorce agreement in the study drawer, then of what Mrs. Xander Sr. had just said. She turned her face away from his lips and looked straight into his eyes, eyes that seemed made to ensnare people.

Her throat felt as though it were being pricked by countless needles.

“Do you actually want a child, or do you just want whatever Grandma promised you in return?”

Chris seized both her wrists and pinned them above her head. With one hand, he removed his glasses. Without the lenses to soften his gaze, his eyes turned cold and sharp, like those of a predator.

This was the real Chris Xander.

“What difference does it make?” he said calmly. “When you insisted on marrying me back then, you should have been prepared for this.”

Winter’s face drained of color.

“Don’t you agree?” he whispered. “Winter.”

The tenderness in his voice only made the pain sink deeper into her bones.

A name spoken without love, steeped in mockery, felt like slow torture to her.

Chris knew exactly where to strike to hurt her the most.

He gave a low, mocking laugh and leaned down, easily stripping her of the last of her strength.

As her clothes were pulled open, Winter’s body jerked violently.

Her mind instinctively replayed the scene from the night before, when she had been beaten. If not for a kind passerby, her clothes would have been torn apart then too.

In that moment, she could no longer tell whether the man in front of her was Chris, or the men who had attacked her.

“Don’t!”

Like a cornered animal, she bit down hard on his neck.

In the dim light, Chris hissed in pain.

“So you’ve grown bold enough to bite now?” Chris sneered. His large hand clamped onto her jaw as he yanked off his tie, moving to bind her struggling wrists.

Suddenly, a phone rang sharply in the room.

A cold blue glow lit up the darkness.

The phone on the coffee table vibrated, slowly shifting its position. The caller ID came clearly into Winter’s view.

Skyla.

It was Skyla Jasper.

Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Winter scrambled out from under him. Trembling, she pulled her clothes together, covering the large, dark bruises left from the beating the night before.

Dragging her injured right leg, she curled up in the corner of the sofa.

At that moment, the lamp beside the sofa snapped on.

Chris stood there, his tie hanging loose around his collar, two buttons of his shirt torn open. His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed.

The phone was still ringing.

Winter’s face was deathly pale, making her reddened eyes stand out even more. She looked at him with open mockery.

She said coldly, “Your precious sweetheart is calling. Aren’t you going to answer?”

Chris pushed himself up from the sofa. His expression was cold as he glanced at Winter curled up in the corner. He picked up his phone, swiped the screen, and answered the call.

“Focus on your recovery first. That’s the most important thing. As for anything else, have someone reach out to Gavin.”

Whatever the person on the other end said, his response was gentle and incredibly patient. Nothing like the man he had been with her.

After hanging up, Chris picked up the glasses he had tossed aside earlier. He did not look at Winter again. He stood, grabbed his suit jacket, and headed for the door.

“Are you going to see Skyla?” Winter asked, her eyes burning red.

Without turning back, he said, “That’s none of your business.”

Bracing her aching right leg, Winter struggled to her feet. She looked at the man standing there, immaculate and composed, a stark contrast to her own disheveled state. Her heart sank to the bottom of her chest.

“Chris Xander!”

She staggered forward and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.

Afraid he would shake her off, she held on with all her strength. Every bone in her body screamed in pain.

The divorce papers in the drawer, Skyla’s return, and the fact that she could no longer hold on to Chris’s heart all crowded her mind.

It was time to put an end to everything.

Winter closed her eyes in pain, almost mocking herself for still hoping.

“When you married me back then, you didn’t have a choice,” she said quietly. “I just want to know the truth of how you really feel.”

Chris held his glasses between his long fingers. He looked down at her coldly.

“What game are you playing now?”

“Call it a game if you want.” Winter slowly loosened her grip.

She looked up at him. Her eyes were clear without a trace of confusion. She spoke each word carefully.

“If Grandma hadn’t used company shares as leverage, would you have agreed to marry me?”

Deep down, she knew there was no point in asking. But a part of her couldn't let it go. This was her last chance to speak up. No matter what he said tonight, she would never ask him again.

Chris narrowed his eyes as he studied her. Then he smiled, though the smile never reached his eyes.

“Does it matter?”

He let out a soft scoff. His dark eyes fixed on her as he stepped closer.

“You were the one who insisted on marrying me back then. You didn’t care about anything else. So why bring this up now? What are you trying to do?”

Without his glasses, the sharpness in his gaze was fully unleashed.

The crushing pressure and biting cold made Winter instinctively take a step back.

Chris grabbed her waist and looked down at her. His eyes slid lower, to her lips, still faintly swollen from his kiss. He leaned in, his warm breath brushing her ear.

“You want to know my real answer?” he murmured. “I’m afraid you wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

The grip at her waist vanished abruptly.

Winter’s right leg gave out. She collapsed onto the floor.

She stared blankly in the direction he left, her body trembling uncontrollably.

A black sedan was parked outside the gates of the Xander estate.

Chris, radiating a cold intensity, got into the car. He yanked off his loosened tie and tossed it aside, stretching out his legs.

The heater was on, but the temperature inside the car seemed to drop the moment he sat down.

His assistant, Gavin Lincoln, glanced quickly at the rearview mirror, then looked away and started the car.

“Mr. Xander, Ms. Jasper called earlier. She said her younger brother got into some trouble. He incited an assault.”

“Who was the victim?” Chris asked.

“She said it was someone who meddled too much. The person isn’t seriously hurt and only has minor injuries. But the police have already traced it back to the Jasper family. Ms. Jasper is very worried.”

Chris lit a cigarette. The flare briefly outlined the sharp line of his brow.

“Go take care of it.”

*

Word of Chris leaving the estate the previous night reached Mrs. Xander Sr. early the next morning.

At the breakfast table, Mrs. Xander Sr. was about to say something to comfort Winter, but Winter smiled and placed a croissant onto her plate.

“Grandma, let’s just enjoy our breakfast. We shouldn't talk about things that ruin the appetite.”

After Chris had been summoned away by a phone call from Skyla, Winter did not sleep in their marital home. Instead, she returned to her old room, right next door to Chris’s.

In the past, she used to go looking for him whenever she had the chance. Even though Chris found her annoying, he had never changed rooms all those years.

After finishing breakfast with Mrs. Xander Sr., Winter prepared to leave. With her injured leg, she could not drive, so she asked Mr. White to arrange a car for her.

While waiting, she took a tube of anti-inflammatory ointment from her bag.

She had found it that morning on the table outside her bedroom. It was the same ointment Mrs. Young had used on her back at Blackwood Manor. She had no idea who had left it there.

She walked into the courtyard and stopped, lifting her gaze to the magnolia tree that stood two stories tall.

Magnolias in Liono City only bloomed in April. Now, in December, the branches were bare and lifeless.

She remembered when she first came to the Xander estate. It had been magnolia season.

She was seven. Chris was twelve.

That day, the sun had been bright. Chris had stood beneath the magnolia tree while the servants introduced her to him. He had glanced at her coolly and said only one thing: “Just don’t bother me.”

“What a relaxed mood you’re in,” a voice said coolly from behind her. “Everything’s falling apart in the house, and you still have the leisure to stand here staring at a boring tree.”

The mockery in his tone was unmistakable.

Winter did not need to turn around to know who it was. It was Steve Xander, Chris’s cousin.

Steve had never gotten along with Chris. Winter had no interest in engaging with him and stepped forward, ready to leave.

“Hey—” Steve stretched out his arm and blocked her path, smiling faintly.

“Don’t you want to know where Chris arranged for Skyla to stay?”

Winter stopped.

Seeing her pause, Steve grinned. He strolled over to stand in front of her, looking down with a raised eyebrow.

“You’ve been married to him for three years, and yet Chris is so heartless…”

Winter slipped her hands into her pockets and cut him off.

“How things are between Chris and me is our business as a married couple. It has nothing to do with you. If you have so much time to meddle, you should spend it figuring out how to secure your footing within the Xander Corporation.”

The words struck a nerve.

Steve’s expression darkened. He grabbed her arm and sneered, “You and Chris, a married couple? That’s just wishful thinking on your part. Has Chris ever treated you like his wife?”

It felt like a public slap in the face. Winter felt a sharp pang in her chest. Everyone in the Xander family knew that Chris had never truly acknowledged her.

“Whether he treats me as his wife or not, I’m still your sister-in-law,” Winter said coldly as she shook his hand off. “Touch me again and see what happens. I won’t hesitate to call for help.”

True enough, Steve did not dare push things further in the Xander estate.

He stood beneath the bare branches, staring at her darkly.

“I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you finally find out the truth.”

Winter ignored him.

After getting into the car, she reached down and rubbed her aching leg.

“Ma'am, are we going to the station?” the driver asked respectfully. It was a workday, and he didn't know she had been given time off.

“Yes,” she replied.

She still had an interview transcript that needed editing. Keeping herself busy would help distract her from her thoughts.

Winter was a senior reporter in the station’s news department. She specialized in investigative journalism, focusing on unethical corporations and illegal businesses. Through her work alone, she had already helped rescue many vulnerable youths from dangerous environments.

As soon as she arrived at the newsroom, Sam called her into his office.

He closed the door, motioned for her to sit, and hesitated, clearly struggling with what to say.

Meeting Winter’s calm, questioning gaze, he finally sighed.

“Winter, there’s something I need to tell you. The people who attacked you have been identified, but…”

“They have powerful backing?” Winter asked calmly. She was not surprised. Anyone who dared assault a reporter was either stupid or well protected.

Sam poured her a glass of water and placed it on the desk.

Then, his voice grew heavy. “I’ve asked around. The person who ordered the hit is the younger brother of Chris Xander’s ex-girlfriend. Chris is protecting him. He even got the three men who actually beat you released. The Xander family has people at the police station…”

Winter barely heard whatever he said after that.

Winter’s fingers clenched so tightly they trembled, her nails biting into her palms until she drew blood.

The silence was suffocating.

“Winter. Winter…”

Sam frowned deeply as he called her name.

Winter sat there like a frozen statue. After a long moment, she finally moved her stiff lips and answered calmly, as if nothing were wrong. “I’m listening.”

Her composure unsettled him even more. No tears. No anger. Nothing at all.

Sam worried she might be bottling everything up, heading toward a breaking point.

But there were things he still had to say.

He slid a check across the desk. “This is compensation from the Jasper family.”

It was clear what they wanted. They were trying to make the matter disappear.

Winter glanced at the amount.

One million dollars.

She almost laughed. Turns out her injuries were worth quite a bit.

Sam said a few more words, trying to make her feel better.

“Fine. I understand,” Winter said. She took the check, stood up neatly, and left the office.

The door closed quietly behind her. Sam stared at it, his brow still furrowed.

This was not like her.

In the past, whenever Winter ran into trouble, she fought back head-on. She never backed down. She never took hush money and walked away.

But this time, the people involved were protected by the Xander family. Even if he wanted to help her, his connections did not reach that far.

If she really chose to let it go like this, he had to admit he felt disappointed.

He had entrusted her with the most dangerous investigations precisely because she feared no power and no retaliation. Exposing corruption and buried filth required exactly that kind of backbone.

And now she had taken the money and left.

However, it was her decision. Maybe she had her own difficulties. After all, she was a young woman with no parents and no backing. As an outsider, what right did he have to judge?

Winter returned to her desk and buried herself in her unfinished interview drafts. She stayed at the station until after hours, never leaving.

The next day, she showed up to work as usual.

Everyone at the station knew she had been assaulted. Colleagues she was close to came by to check on her, offer comfort, even suggested going out for dinner after work to shake off the bad luck.

She declined them all politely.

“If it were me, I’d be too embarrassed to go out if I’d almost been beaten into a pulp,” Wendy Stone said, leaning against Winter’s desk. She held a freshly bought coffee, her long, wavy hair cascading down her shoulders.

She and Winter were rivals, both eyeing the “Outstanding Employee” title for the year-end evaluation.

“I was not beaten into a pulp, but thank you,” Winter replied. She casually took the coffee from Wendy’s hand, took a sip, and narrowed her eyes in satisfaction. “Thanks. This is my favorite. You’ve been paying close attention to me, haven’t you?”

“Who said that was for you?” Wendy nearly jumped. “Give it back!”

Winter took another sip. “I’m drinking it anyway. What are you going to do about it?”

Wendy huffed and didn’t actually try to grab it back. She clicked her tongue and looked Winter up and down. “Good thing you’ve got skin this thick. Otherwise, you really would’ve been beaten to a mess.”

Instead of being annoyed, Winter found her oddly endearing.

Just as Wendy twisted her hips and turned to leave, Winter called out, “Wendy, sweetie, do you happen to have a VIP card for the JX Club?”

“Why?” Being called sweetie by someone as striking as Winter clearly put her in a good mood. “You want one?”

Winter blinked at her playfully. “Lend it to me, and I’ll tell you where I got my double eyelids done.”

Wendy’s eyes flew open. “So you did get work done!”

She knew it. No one was born with double eyelids that perfect.

She hurried back to her desk, pulled a black card from her wallet, and shoved it into Winter’s hand. “Now tell me.”

Winter leaned in close and whispered in her ear, smiling. “Actually, I got them done... in my mom’s womb.”

That meant they were natural.

Wendy’s expression twisted through several emotions before she exploded, stamping her foot.

“Winter! You lied to me!”

“Thanks for the VIP card,” Winter said, not even turning around as she waved casually in Wendy’s direction.

*

After leaving the TV station, Winter stopped by a mall and picked out an outfit that was both comfortable and party-appropriate. She swapped out the short skirt the sales associate suggested for a pair of fitted black pants, which conveniently hid the bruises on her thighs. She paired them with knee-high boots. With a slight tweak to her makeup, her look shifted instantly, cool, bold, and unapologetically edgy.

Then she drove straight to JX Club, a nightlife hotspot popular with the city’s young and reckless.

As expected, she was stopped at the entrance.

Winter rested one hand on the steering wheel as she handed over the VIP card. “I’m here for Jacob’s birthday.”

Jacob Jasper, Skyla’s brother, was hosting his party at the club tonight.

One look at her fashionable outfit told the security guard she belonged here. More importantly, the VIP card was all the proof he needed. He waved her through without hesitation.

As she walked deeper into the club, the louder the music became, pounding hard enough to rattle her chest.

Winter took a drink from a passing server, pretending to sip as her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Jacob.

Jacob was infamous in Liono City. He was a notorious troublemaker and his bright red hair made him easy to spot.

The moment she stepped into the party, heads turned. A stunning woman like her didn’t go unnoticed. Men and women alike looked over.

Winter rarely dressed like this. She had a great figure—a slim waist, soft curves, and long legs accentuated by fitted pants and knee-high boots. And then there was her face, striking enough to stand out in any crowd.

That was exactly why she usually wore a mask during interviews. She hated being the center of attention.

A few men tried to approach her, but she smiled and deflected smoothly.

“Sorry,” she said lightly. “I’m here as Jacob’s guest.”

The moment they realized she was a guest of Jacob’s, the men backed off without another word.

It didn’t take long before she spotted him at the poolside.

A woman, soaked and trembling, was shoved into the indoor pool. Jacob tossed a stack of cash down and laughed.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he jeered. “Hit her harder!”

“Jacob.”

Someone tapped his shoulder.

“Who is it?” Jacob snapped as he turned around.

Before he could finish the sentence, his vision went dark followed by a loud crack.

A glass bottle shattered against his head.

The music cut out abruptly as a few sharp screams pierced the air.

The atmosphere dropped instantly, cold and suffocating.

Even the assault in the pool stopped.

Blood trickled down Jacob’s forehead, sliding into the water and spreading in slow red swirls.

“Who the hell wants to die?” Jacob roared, grabbing a bottle to swing back.

But someone was faster.

Another bottle smashed straight into his head.

A clear, icy voice cut through the chaos.

“You’ve got some nerve asking. I’m your worst nightmare!”

The crowd held its breath. No one had imagined that Jacob would get his head cracked open at his own birthday party.

Jacob staggered, wiping the blood from his eyes. Through the red haze, he saw a stunningly beautiful face that was deathly calm.

The moment he recognized Winter, his expression twisted, venom flooding his eyes. “So it’s you,” he snarled. “I should’ve had you killed that day. What, you got a death wish coming back here?”