"Sister, I know the truth of that year," I whispered into the phone, my voice trembling. "The man behind the explosion of our Richardson Family was not someone else, but my husband, Vincenzo.

“He killed them. Sister, please, please take me away.I want to commit suicide by jumping off the building in front of him. Sister, please help me and pick me up when the time comes."

After a long silence, the voice on the other end of the phone was hoarse and firm, "If it is true, we must avenge the whole family and make him pay the price! I will pick you up in a week."

After the call ended, I quickly pulled out the phone card, broke it and threw it into the sewer in the bathroom.

After doing all this, my knees were shaking and I almost knelt down, but I gritted my teeth and straightened my body, holding the door frame and walking step by step to the corridor outside.

At this time, Madeline's seductive voice came from Vincenzo's room.

I stood at the door, my heart pounding, half hoping that I heard it wrong, but half knowing that I did not. 

"Well... Madeline, yours is really tight, I like it so much."

I did not push the door in, scream, nor question. In just a moment, I seemed to die again.

I remembered that he had never whispered my name in such a voice in bed. 

I turned around and walked back, each step passing through those unforgettable memories.

Vincenzo was the person I looked up to in my girlhood, a man who always stood on the edge of the night, his eyes as quiet as the night.

He was the most dangerous and attractive mystery in my fantasy.

So, when he proposed to marry me, I agreed with great excitement, regardless of the fact that he was a dangerous mafia boss.

But the day after the wedding, the news of the explosion of the Richardson Family villa became a hot search.

I always thought it was revenge by the enemy and begged Vincenzo to help me get revenge. 

It was not until a year after the marriage that I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and his assistant.

He wiped the blood from his hands and said sarcastically, "The Richardson Family deserved to die! Twenty years ago, the phone call from Amelia's father caused 77 members of my family to be shot at the dock before going abroad."

There was silence, followed by a sneer, "Amelia thought I married her because I loved her so much, but in fact I just changed the way to let her continue to atone for her sins and live in pain every day."

I was nailed to the spot, cold all over.

At that moment, I finally understood. 

He rarely touched me and even if he did, it was just casual. I thought he was restrained, but who knew, he was disdainful and unwilling.

He blamed me for everything he lost and he wanted me to watch myself wither, collapse and despair bit by bit.

I was just a prisoner he carefully kept.

In recent years, Vincenzo had become more and more lazy to pretend. 

He openly brought Madeline to various occasions and doted on her like a wife.

She often appeared in our house, leaning on his arms and laughing loudly and he indulged her in all her provocations against me.

At first, I thought it was the punishment I deserved. I was the daughter of the man who destroyed everything for him and this price might be just right.

I told myself that as long as I was patient and obedient, maybe one day he would let go of his hatred and we could at least treat each other with respect.

But I was wrong. Nothing has changed.

I did not dare to beg for that humble love again, since I did not owe Vincenzo anything.

This time, I would leave with my sister and never come back.

The next morning, I cooked myself a bowl of noodles and put out a small yellow lamp.

This day was my birthday and the anniversary of my parents' death.

I always felt that fate was too cruel, letting me be born on this day and lose everything on this day.

I wiped the remains of my family and gently placed them next to the yellow lamp.

It was just a trip to the bathroom and when I came back, the two things were gone.

My heart sank and I searched desperately but could not find them. It was not until I heard a giggle at the end of the corridor that I realized where they were.

I rushed into Madeline's workshop. She was sitting on the floor, holding a pair of pliers, twisting my father's cufflinks out of shape.

Without even looking up, she said, "I'm making an art installation with the theme of ‘rebirth.’ I need to use some meaningful materials."

As she spoke, she lifted the string of beads and shook it, smiling, "Don't you think these old things can only truly come alive after being reshaped?"

I looked at the sapphire - the only thing my mother wore before she died.

"They're all dead anyway," she shrugged, "There's no point in keeping it, right? Instead of letting it get moldy, you might as well make it into an exhibition."

She threw the remaining broken cufflink into the pile of garbage cloth on the ground, like throwing away a piece of extra garbage.

This moment became the last straw that broke my last piece of patience.

I raised my hand and slapped her hard in the face, the crisp slap was louder than her laughter!

"Are you insane?!" Madeline screamed and took a step back, covering her face, her eyes darting around in horror, "Vincenzo! Vincenzo, Amelia hit me."

I did not flinch, staring at her with red eyes.

Vincenzo stood at the door with a cold face and glanced at the battlefield. He had already chosen his side—obviously not on my side.

"What happened?"

"She hit me," Madeline choked, "I just took some beads to make a bracelet, but she went insane!"

Vincenzo looked at me with cold eyes as he scolded, "Those are just a few old beads. Do you have to make a fuss like a madman?"

My throat seemed to be filled with fire as I shouted, "Those are my family's relics!"

He raised his eyebrows, as if listening to a joke and said, "Your family has been dead for three years, you should let it go. Apologize to Madeline now."

"Apologize? She does not deserve it!" I raised my head, my eyes firm, not afraid of his threats at all.

He narrowed his eyes after hearing my answer and asked back as if could not believe what he heard, "What?"

"I said no, do you hear me clearly now? If not, go to the hospital and see an ear doctor!" This time my voice was low and calm.

He took a step closer and lowered his voice as he questioned, "Are you defying me?"

I did not answer with words, just stared at him. Staring at the man who trapped me in this house for three years and trampled on everything I had.

No matter what Madeline said, Vincenzo would only believe her. 

When Madeline had a migraine attack and said that it was me who poisoned her, Vincenzo immediately locked me up for a week without food and drink to punish me.

Madeline sprained her ankle with her high heels and said that I sent someone to spread glass shards on the road she had to pass. Without saying a word, Vincenzo made me walk back and forth barefoot on the glass shards ninety-nine times.

I clenched my fists and whispered, "I want a divorce!"

He laughed. The laugh was slow, as if he heard some ridiculous fantasy.

"You? Want a divorce?" He approached me, his eyes gradually colder as he threatened, "You know you’re mine, Amelia. And what’s mine will always be mine. As long as I don’t say let go, you will stay here forever."

Madeline sighed behind him, crossed her arms and looked like a winner watching a show.

I took a deep breath and calmed down. I was not surprised that Vincenzo disagreed with me.

But I would not argue or quarrel, at least not that moment.

Because I would be leaving in seven days and I could not alert the enemy at that time.

As I turned and left, Madeline laughed triumphantly behind me.

I exhaled softly and covered my belly with my hands.

I had been pregnant for seven months and my belly was already showing, but I still wore a thick sweater to cover my pregnancy tightly.

I hid all the prenatal examination reports and even endured the morning sickness.

I had been cautious, because I knew that if Vincenzo found out, he would never let this child be born.

I remembered that day when I mentioned that I wanted to have a child hesitantly, he just smiled coldly and threatened, "Don't be delusional, I don't want anything to be related to you, not even a drop of blood."

But that night, he was drunk and did not give me the contraceptive reagent after the operation. Just like that, this child came.

I did not tell him, because this child was the only life that gave me hope to live when I was alone that day.

I thought I kept it a secret until the next morning.

Madeline was taking supplements and suddenly her skirt was covered with blood. The family doctor diagnosed it as miscarriage.

Before I could react, Vincenzo threw a stack of drug test reports on my legs.

I picked it up and saw that Mifepristone was detected in the pregnancy-preserving supplements.

I opened my eyes wide, my heart pounding, "This is not me…."

"If it's not you, then who is it?" He pinched my chin, his eyes burning with cold anger as he asked, "You have always been jealous that she is pregnant with my child."

I struggled, but I could not escape his hand.

"Do you think I do not know that you're pregnant too?" He chuckled as he said that, "Before, I did not take your child seriously, thinking it would be okay to strangle him to death after he was born, but now, your child should be buried with Madeline's dead child."

When I woke up, the incandescent light was blindingly bright.

I reached out and touched my abdomen—flat and empty.

I remember kneeling on the ground and hugging Vincenzo's legs tightly to beg, "Please, don't do this. I don't want anything... just this child."

But he was unmoved.

"Your pregnancy was a mistake." He leaned over to look at me, his tone cruel as he stated, "Who are you to have my child?"

I cried desperately, crying until I almost died.

But Vincenzo still forced me to drink the bowl of abortion-stopping medicine with his own hands.

He cut my child out alive, just to bury another woman's fetus. I did not even get to say goodbye properly.

At that moment, I stared at the ceiling blankly and before I could recover, I heard the servants whispering, "Burning the child can avoid nightmares."

"That's right, after all, it's a baby that's almost formed. It's unlucky if it's not handled properly."

I suddenly got up from the bed, the wound hurt so much that I almost could not stand.

I staggered to the garden and saw the servant holding the familiar small wooden box and walking towards the fire from a distance.

"No!" I screamed and rushed over.

But someone stopped me and held my shoulders tightly.

Vincenzo stood by the fire with an indifferent expression.

I cried, grabbed the corner of his clothes and knelt at his feet to plead, "Vincenzo, that's our child! It's so young... It did not do anything wrong."

His eyes were dark and he looked at me for a long time. In the end, he just turned his head and said lightly, "Burn it."

I froze in place, forgetting even to cry.

"No!" I collapsed and rushed over, but was thrown away and fell to the ground.

The flames lit and the small coffin was thrown into the fire.

I lay in front of the ashes and reached out to grab the charred wood. The flesh on my palms rolled up, but it seemed that I had lost the pain.

Vincenzo finally came over, grabbed my burned wrist and roared in a low voice, "Amelia! Are you crazy?!"