Serena’s POV

The curtains in the VIP ward were drawn tightly shut. Post-surgery weakness and the lingering aftereffects of a miscarriage still clung to me, yet I insisted on staying in the same room with my son, who had yet to regain consciousness.

These past few days, Adrian had been unusually gentle to me. He was so gentle that he’d even tested the temperature of my food several times before feeding me, his voice low and coaxing.

“Serena, I know you’ve suffered too much,” he murmured. “It’s my fault for not protecting you… and our baby.”

“You can’t have children anymore, and I can’t give you another baby. But if you’d like, we can adopt one. I’ll treat them as if they were my own flesh and blood,” he suggested.

I pulled my hand from his grasp, unable to even look at him without feeling sick.

He froze for a moment, a flicker of confusion flashing in his eyes. But quickly his brows knitted, irritation creeping in.

“I know you’re still mad at Clarissa… but she’s just spoiled. Growing up in the Whitmore, she never suffered a single grievance. She truly wants to apologize this time,” he said. “I’ll wait for you to come around.”

Seeing I remained unmoved, he had no choice but to leave.

He’d been gone for less than ten minutes when the door to the ward was suddenly shoved open from the outside.

A group of young people, grinning and laughing, strolled in. They carried bottles of alcohol and lugged in a portable speaker.

At the front stood Clarissa, her posture bold and her smile triumphant. “Serena, it’s my birthday today, and I thought—why not share my happiness with my dear sister-in-law?”

“This is a hospital ward, Clarissa!” I shot to my feet, ready to throw them out.

But her smile only widened. She leaned in, her tone dripping with mockery. “Oh my, such a big temper. But I guess it’s understandable—you lost both children, and I heard you can’t have any more… So what will you use to compete with me for my brother?”

Her smirk stretched even wider. “The more miserable you are, the happier my birthday feels!”

My face went pale, fury rising in my chest. I couldn’t stop myself—I slapped her hard across the face.

The sharp crack rang through the ward.

Clarissa’s smile froze. For a heartbeat, she stood still—then she lunged at me, her hands wrapping around my throat.

“Bitch! Who do you think you are to hit me? You think you’re still the rightful wife of my brother?” Her face twisted with rage, her eyes wild.

I struggled weakly, my body still frail from the miscarriage. Not even a cry could escape my lips.

The suffocating pressure closed in; darkness crept into my vision until suddenly, she released me and smiled.

He scoffed. “I almost killed you there. But no, no, that won’t do. If you die, then my brother and I will have no one left to take the bullets for us.”

Before I could react, several women at her side rushed forward. They forced me to the floor, covered my mouth, and bound my wrists and ankles with strips of gauze.

I thrashed in panic, but I was no match for them.

“Put her in there,” Clarissa ordered with a wave of her hand.

The next thing I knew, I was shoved into the wardrobe of the VIP room.

I fought to make noise, but not a single sound escaped.

Outside, Adrian finally returned.

“Why are you here alone? Where’s Serena?”

Clarissa leaned against him, her voice soft and sweet. “She wouldn’t let me help buy food. She insisted on going out herself. I tried to stop her.”

She sighed dramatically and commented, “She’s been in a bad mood lately, always taking it out on me. Don’t blame her.”

She pouted, and then she added, “Her emotions have been so unstable lately… But hey, since I’ve been taking such good care of her and her son, shouldn’t you reward me?”

She suddenly leaned closer, her voice soft and flirtatious. “Besides… she’s not here, and there’s only a living corpse in the room. Why don’t we have a little… fun?”

My breath hitched. My ears roared.

A moment later, I heard movement right outside the wardrobe door.

“Clarissa…” Adrian’s voice dropped. “No.”

“But I want you, Adrian…” that lunatic whined coquettishly, rubbing against him.

I bit down hard on my lip, bile rising in my throat. Every word they spoke made the disgust churn hotter in my chest.

“If Mom and Died hadn’t died so early, and if adoption couldn’t be undone, you would’ve married me. That woman would’ve never stood a chance,” Clarissa purred.

“She’s just a shield,” Adrian’s voice rasped. “If we acted too close as siblings, people would start talking.”

“She’s been wanting a divorce anyway. You were terrified back then and begged her to come back. But now it’s fine—she can never have children again. I don’t have to worry about her clinging to me anymore.”

As she spoke, her breathing grew shamelessly lustful.

Serena’s POV

‘Adrian, you asshole!’

I clenched my teeth so hard they ached, my fingernails digging into the wooden cabinet wall until it splintered beneath my grip. Tears spilled uncontrollably down my cheeks, hot and relentless.

So it turned out—from beginning to end—I was nothing more than a cover-up, just a pathetic excuse to hide their incest!

So it turned out—all that sweetness, every apology, every so-called attempt to make it right—it was nothing but a performance for them, just so they could screw around behind my back without a shred of shame!

For Pete’s sake, they were being intimate on my hospital bed right next to my comatose son!

In the darkness, my tears finally ran dry.

I don’t know how long it was before the room fell completely silent.

When I heard the soft click of the door closing, I began to move, inch by inch, forcing myself to push the cabinet door open.

Cold air rushed into my lungs. I crawled out in a tangle of limbs, disheveled and trembling, bracing myself against the bedframe to catch my breath.

‘Clarissa. Adrian. I will make you both pay for this—down to the last debt!’ I swore.

Just then, the door opened again. A nurse entered, startled at the sight of me bound to the bed. She rushed forward to unbuckle the leather restraints on my wrists.

Instinctively, I turned my head—my eyes landing immediately on Ethan.

The heart monitor… was gone!

There was no steady beeping sound anymore!

My breath hitched. I stumbled forward, nearly tripping over myself.

“Ethan?!”

My throat felt raw as I reached out, trembling, to check for his breath.

A moment later, my world collapsed into a bottomless void.

“Doctor! Doctor!”

My scream tore through the air, ragged and frantic. My whole body shook as the nurse slammed her hand on the emergency button. Finally, the doctor arrived with a crash cart and emergency equipment.

But the moment the probe touched my son’s small and still body, the doctor’s expression shifted. He slowly shook his head, the verdict final.

“The patient’s heart has been stopped for over thirty minutes… I’m sorry.”

“No… no, that’s not true!” I shook my head violently, my lips trembling so badly I could barely speak.

I collapsed over Ethan’s icy body, sobbing until my voice broke apart.

The nurse’s own eyes reddened, but she could only gently pull me away so the doctor could begin the formalities.

I stood there, hollow and empty, until a familiar figure walked into the ward.

Adrian approached me with his usual gentle, caring tone, wrapping his arms around me as if to comfort me.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured. “I’ve already arranged the best funeral hall for Ethan. He’ll have the most dignified farewell. In another life, he’ll be born into a good family.”

His voice was calm—too calm, as if Ethan had merely caught a fever, not… died.

And the faint scent of Clarissa’s perfume clung to him, making my eyes turn to ice.

The heart monitor had been unplugged—this must have happened while they were in the middle of their filth just moments ago!

I said nothing, only pushing him away in disgust.

His fingers twitched, a sudden unease flashing in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to speak. In the end, he swallowed the words.

Behind him, Clarissa smiled faintly, tugging open her blouse. Her pale skin bore a trail of red marks, fresh and fading.

I froze, my gaze locked on her smug, triumphant expression. My fingertips dug into my palms until they throbbed purple with hate.

The next thing I knew, the cremation was done.

When I left the crematorium, I cradled a small porcelain urn against my chest—Ethan’s ashes. My hands were so cold they’d lost all color, but I didn’t dare loosen my grip. It was all I had left of him.

Adrian stood beside me, still on the phone with the funeral company, making arrangements.

I just ignored him.

I simply held the urn close and returned quietly to my parents’ home.

I acted so… normal, Adrian didn’t notice where I’d gone.

When I came home, the house was empty. Taking the opportunity, I went straight to the study. In the drawer, my old spare phone still lay there.

I opened my contacts and found my lawyer’s number, sending every bit of evidence I had.

[Is this enough to put Clarissa in jail?]

The reply came almost instantly. [More than enough. Child abuse leading to death, intentional homicide. She’ll spend the rest of her life behind bars.]

I pressed a hand to my temple, taking a deep breath.

[Then prepare the divorce agreement as well. Deliver it to the hospital.]

Adrian, this is my last "gift" and "surprise" for you.