Third Person's POV

Hazel let out a bitter laugh.

“A bit too much?” she repeated, her voice trembling with disbelief.

Her mother was dead. And he had the nerve to call that “a bit too much”?

Locking Caroline in an interrogation room was far too lenient. That woman should’ve been rotting behind bars for the rest of her life.

Without hesitation, Hazel grabbed the agreement from the table, tore it into shreds, and threw the pieces right into Dominic’s face. “Even if you kill me, I’ll never sign it! I want Caroline to spend the rest of her life behind bars!”

Suddenly, a sharp slap cracked through the air. Hazel’s face snapped to the side, five bright red fingerprints blooming across her pale cheek.

For a brief second, guilt flickered in Dominic’s eyes. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual cold indifference.

“Hazel,” he said harshly, “I already sent the best doctors to treat your mother. How much longer are you going to keep making a scene?”

Her ears rang from the slap, but his words hurt even more. Hazel clenched her fists, her voice trembling with fury. “You never cared enough to find out what really happened! Your precious Caroline took all the doctors away! My mom never got treatment! She’s dead!”

But while she was saying her last words, Dominic’s phone rang, covering them.

The moment he saw Caroline's name, his expression softened, and he answered immediately.

“Dominic,” Caroline’s sweet, tearful voice came through, “didn’t you say you’d get me out? They’re being so mean to me here. I’m scared, I really am…”

The coldness in Dominic’s eyes melted away. His voice turned gentle as he replied, “Be good. Don’t be scared. I’ll get you out soon.”

When he hung up, he gave his men a cold look, the kind that needed no words.

Quickly, two bodyguards grabbed Hazel by the arms. The urn she’d been holding slipped from her grasp and crashed to the floor. Her mother’s ashes spilled across the tiles.

Dominic froze for a second, his eyes narrowing before a mocking smile tugged at his lips. “What’s this? Ashes? Hazel, are you cursing your own mother now just to frame Caroline? Impressive.”

“I’m not!” she cried, her voice hoarse. “That really is my mom’s ashes! She—”

“Enough!” Dominic cut her off sharply. “I had top doctors on your mother’s case. They could even bring a dead person back if they had to. Besides, Caroline said your mom just had a small cut, nothing serious. She couldn’t possibly have died. So, what exactly are you trying to pull here?”

He slammed another document down on the table and ordered, “Hold her down. Make her sign it.”

“No! Dominic, you can’t do this to me!” Hazel screamed, thrashing wildly.

But she was no match for the two men holding her. Her trembling hand was forced down onto the paper, dragging out a crooked signature.

Only when it was done did Dominic’s expression relax. He pocketed the signed document, turned his back on her, and walked away without a second glance.

Hazel crumpled to the floor like discarded fabric. One of the bodyguards even stepped on her mother’s ashes on the way out.

Her hands shook as she tried to gather what was left, scooping the ashes back into the urn piece by piece. But no matter how hard she tried, half of it was gone.

Tears streamed down her face, each drop burning as it hit the cold tile floor.

“Mom…” she whispered brokenly. “I’m sorry. I couldn't protect you.”

Third Person's POV

That night, Hazel didn’t sleep a wink. She tore through the apartment, pulled out every gift Dominic had ever given her, and stuffed them into trash bags. If he was no longer the man she thought he was, she didn’t need reminders of him lying around.

After throwing the bags away, she went out again to pick a gravesite for her mother and buried her beside her father. By the time everything was done, it was already evening. Hazel planned to go home and try to rest, but a familiar Maybach suddenly blocked her path.

Before she could react, Dominic stepped out of the car and grabbed her wrist. “Caroline says you’re holding a grudge and that we should make peace, so she arranged a little gathering. I'm taking you there.”

Hazel pulled and fought, but he was too strong. He dragged her into a private room where his friends, who used to laugh and curry favor with her, clustered around Caroline, doting on her until she couldn’t stop smiling.

It felt like an invisible hand had seized Hazel’s chest. She could barely breathe.

Dominic shoved her toward Caroline and said in a voice that left no room for argument, “Get along with Caroline. Stop making trouble.”

Caroline’s eyes flashed with something sharp. She raised a glass and pushed it in front of Hazel.

“Hazel,” she cooed, “I’ve thought it over. I was wrong before. This one’s for you. Let’s put the past behind us, shall we?”

Hazel dug her fingers into her palm so hard the pain bit through. She would never let those crimes be forgotten. She wanted Caroline to pay with blood, if that was what it took. And she would not spare Dominic either.

Seeing Hazel refuse to play along, Caroline lifted the glass as if to drink and then, theatrically, poured the whole thing into her own lap.

“Oh, Hazel, I know you hate me, but you don’t have to treat me like this,” she said, feigning hurt. “This dress was a birthday present from Dominic. I hardly ever wear it. I put it on today just to patch things up with you.”

Before Hazel could answer, Dominic’s displeased voice cut in beside her ear. “Hazel! Didn’t I tell you on the way here to behave and not upset Caroline? Did you just ignore me?”

Hazel shot back, “I didn’t do it. Check the cameras if you don’t believe me.”

Dominic’s eyes turned cold. “Do you think being righteous clears you of suspicion?” he snapped. “Apologize to Caroline. Now!”

“I won’t. I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I apologize?” Hazel shot back.

Dominic’s patience vanished. He sneered, “If you won’t apologize, then drink everything on that table.”

The bottles on the table were high-proof liquors that would make a non-drinker sick and could tear a stomach lining apart. Hazel was someone who never touched alcohol. A single bottle would likely make her vomit blood.

“You know I don’t drink,” she protested, certain he knew this.

But Dominic, caught in anger, didn’t notice the tremor in her voice. He barked orders, and two men held her down while another forced a bottle to her lips and poured.

“Hazel,” he warned, voice flat and merciless, “I told you my patience has a limit. Don’t push my limits.”

Third Person's POV

The liquor burned down Hazel’s throat like fire, searing her stomach until it felt as if her insides were being torn apart. The liquid even spilled out through her nose as she choked and gasped for air.

She grabbed Dominic’s wrist, her voice raw and hoarse, like sand scraping against stone. “It hurts… please—let go of me… I can’t drink anymore…”

Even under the dim lights, her face was turning a deep, alarming red. She looked seconds away from collapsing.

For a moment, something flickered in Dominic’s eyes—hesitation, maybe even pity. His grip also loosened slightly.

But Caroline quickly stepped in, her tone soft and falsely concerned.

“Forget it, Dominic,” she said sweetly. “As a woman, I can’t bear to see another woman suffer. Just let her go. I’ve already endured so much in my life; a little more doesn’t matter. I only feel guilty that I didn’t take better care of the dress you gave me.”

Her pitiful tone hit him like a dart straight to the chest, making Dominic’s expression harden again. Without another word, he grabbed another bottle and poured it down Hazel’s throat.

The second wave hit harder. Her vision blurred, her stomach churned violently, and then she couldn’t hold it back anymore. She vomited all over the floor.

The room filled with murmurs of disgust as the men around them covered their noses and stepped back.

Dominic instinctively took a step forward, wanting to help her, but the moment he caught Caroline’s cold, wounded gaze, he froze. His hand fell back to his side and frigidly said, “Caroline is the most important person in my life. Anyone who upsets her also upsets me. If you ever make her unhappy again, Hazel, I’ll make sure you suffer worse than this.”

Hazel wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then looked up at him with glassy, tear-filled eyes.

“Dominic,” she asked softly, her voice trembling, “you mean that, right? Caroline’s the one you love most?”

“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate for even a second.

Hazel let out a faint laugh—broken, bitter, and hollow. She looked at him for a long moment before staggering to her feet. Then, without a word, she pushed him aside and walked toward the door.

The moment it closed behind her, voices sounded from inside the room.

“Dude, it’s late. Are you really letting her walk home alone? Isn’t that a bit dangerous?” one of his friends asked.

Dominic gave a low, dismissive chuckle and pulled Caroline into his arms. “What’s that got to do with me? I have Caroline now. Why should I care if someone else lives or dies?”

Outside, Hazel laughed through her tears.

He used to promise her that as long as she stayed by his side, she’d never be hurt again. Now he said her life and death had nothing to do with him.

But that was fine. Soon, she’d leave him forever, and he’d never find her again.

It was past midnight. There were no taxis in sight, so Hazel could only walk home. Her stomach churned painfully, and before long, she threw up again. Only this time, it was blood.

She sank weakly against a cold wall, clutching her stomach as if knives were slicing her from the inside out.

Then, a group of men appeared at the mouth of the alley. One of them pointed at her.

“There she is!”

A chill ran through Hazel’s body. Panic surged through her veins. She pushed herself up and tried to run. But before she could take two steps, one of them grabbed her by the hair and yanked her backward.

“Where do you think you’re going, you little bitch?”