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?”

Third Person's POV

“Who are you? What do you want?!” Hazel warned, backing away and reaching for her phone to call the police.

But a sharp-eyed thug saw the move and slapped her hard across the face.

“You bitch, trying to call the cops?” he spat.

Fear flashed through Hazel’s eyes.

“I haven’t done anything to you. Why are you picking on me?” she demanded.

The gang members laughed, ugly grins spreading across their faces.

“You pissed off the wrong person,” one of them said. “And that person told us to teach you a lesson.”

Before she could react, a steel pipe came down and smashed into her knee. Hazel fell to the ground with a thud; the pain ripped through her so fiercely she couldn’t hold back the tears.

Without giving her a moment, pipe after pipe rained down on her like hail. Her screams of pain echoed through the alley as bones cracked beneath the blows. Yet, no one came to help.

As darkness closed in, she saw her dead mother, smiling and waving at her, as if to say it was all right.

When she came to again, she was in a hospital bed. Dominic sat nearby, with dark circles under his eyes that showed he’d been there a long time. For a rare instant, pity softened his expression. His voice was unusually gentle as he asked, “You’re awake. Do you feel okay anywhere?”

Hazel didn’t answer. She asked instead, “How long was I out?”

“Five days,” he said.

Her hand clenched into a fist at that. Five days, proof of how vicious they’d been. She reached for the phone on the table to call the police.

But Dominic grabbed her wrist. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Calling the police, of course.”

He frowned. “No need. Those thugs were arrested.”

Hazel snorted. “They were arrested, yes. But whoever hired them hasn’t been.”

Dominic raised an eyebrow. “The thugs said they were just in a bad mood and happened to run into you. They said no one ordered them to do it.”

She laughed in disbelief at how confidently he defended that lie. It was impossible that no one had hired them. She had seen the woman clearly before she blacked out. Even if the face were burned to ash, she would recognize it. It was Caroline. She’d watched that woman hand money to the thugs, kick her in the face, and say, “Good job. If the police ask, tell them it was just venting. I’ll pay you a fortune when you get out, enough to set you for life.”

Hazel yanked her arm free from Dominic and said coldly, “It was Caroline. I saw her with my own eyes. She will pay for what she did.”

Ignoring Dominic’s protests, she dialed the police.

It didn’t take long, and the police found surveillance footage showing Caroline handing money to the thugs, confirming Hazel’s claim. Hazel refused any private settlement and demanded that the law put the woman behind bars.

Caroline wept, makeup streaked, eyes full of venom as she glared at Hazel. But Hazel ignored her and left the station.

The next second, a van pulled up in front of her, and strong hands forced her inside. She tried to scream, but when she looked up, she saw a familiar face.

“Dominic? What are you doing? Why are you taking me?!” she cried.

He lounged in the passenger seat, a half-smile playing on his lips. “Hazel, you’re really insubordinate. It irritates me.”

With a single look from him, someone dragged out a large yellow dog. The animal was emaciated, its body marked with whip scars and dried blood; it looked close to death. But the moment it saw Hazel, it thumped its tail weakly.

Hazel went pale and rushed forward, scooping the dog into her arms and choking on its name.

“Cooper! Cooper!” she sobbed.

“You could have aimed that anger at me, Dominic. Why hurt a dog?” she cried.