Freya’s POV

Thinking of my plan, I turned and followed Rodney into Harper’s hospital room.

On the bed, Harper had rosy cheeks and no trace of the blood loss she’d supposedly suffered.

She curled her arm around Rodney’s hand and smiled sweetly at me. “Freya, I really must thank you for giving me your blood. If it weren’t for you, I might not have been able to keep the baby. If that had happened, I would have let Rodney down.”

Expressionless, I lowered my head and gave her a curt apology.

Her eyes glimmered with a fleeting triumph before she softened her gaze, looking at me with a mock pity.

“Your daughter’s dead now, yet you were still willing to give me blood. You really are… such a good person.”

Her words froze me in place. My eyes widened in disbelief. “What nonsense are you talking about? Didn’t Rodney say my daughter was still in the ER?!”

She feigned surprise, covering her mouth delicately.

“Oh? Rodney, you didn’t tell her?” She gave me an apologetic look, though her voice carried a cruel lilt. “I’m so sorry… but your daughter really is dead. They’ve already sent her body to the morgue.”

She shot me a deliberately provoking glance.

My mind went white. Without another thought, I lunged forward and clamped my hands around her throat.

Her face instantly twisted in fear.

In the next moment, Rodney yanked me backward and hurled me across the room.

My head slammed hard against the corner of the wall, and in an instant, blood trickled down my face.

But the pain barely registered. I staggered to my feet and rushed at her again, desperate for her to explain herself clearly.

Rodney pinned me down with a grip like iron, his expression glacial. “How dare you lay a hand on Harper in front of me!”

“I’ve already apologized to her!” My voice cracked with fury. “I just want to see my daughter!”

“You killed my son, and now you want to kill my daughter?” My throat burned as I shouted at them both. “I swear, Rodney, you and Harper will get what you deserve!”

Something flickered in his eyes—panic—but it vanished just as quickly, replaced by a deep frown and cold contempt.

“You really have gone mad. You were the one who lost our son. And your daughter’s fine—Harper was only teasing you. Can’t you be reasonable for once?”

I wanted to scream until my voice tore apart. I wanted to destroy the two of them standing before me.

But then, a thick needle jabbed into the back of my neck.

The strength drained from my body, and I collapsed to the floor.

When I opened my eyes again, Rodney was sitting by the bed. My voice came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

“Rodney… I’ll give you and Harper my blessing—if you give me back my daughter.”

He stiffened at my words.

After a long moment, he spoke, his voice heavy. “Farrah… She didn’t make it. The resuscitation failed. She’s… gone.”

My eyes slowly widened as his words sank in.

A laugh burst from me, sharp and hollow, filling the hospital room with its echo. It was laughter steeped in pain.

Tears streamed freely down my face as I looked at him, my gaze brimming with hatred.

“I don’t believe my daughter is dead! Bring her back to me, Rodney! Or I swear, I won’t spare Harper or that bastard child of hers!”

His expression hardened. “What do you think you’re going to do to them? You already kidnapped Harper, and the two you gave birth to are the real bastards! They’re innocent!”

I no longer argued with him over the children’s parentage. My voice was low, cold, and unshakable.

“She’s not innocent! If she is truly dead… I will make sure they are buried with her!”

Rodney’s chest rose and fell sharply, his eyes widening in disbelief as if he couldn’t fathom I would say such a thing.

At that moment, Harper strode in from the doorway and, without warning, she slapped me hard across the face.

Freya’s POV

Harper wept, tears streaming down her cheeks like petals in the rain. “If you have a problem, take it out on me. Why go after Kayden? He’s just a kid! I’ll apologize to you—just please, let him go, all right?”

As she spoke, she started to beg for my forgiveness.

Rodney stepped forward and pulled the pitiful Harper into his arms, his gaze hardening as he turned to glare at me.

“How dare you lay a hand on my child!”

“Rodney,” I said flatly, “If you don’t give me my daughter back, I’ll kill him.”

I met his eyes without flinching, openly taking on a crime I hadn’t committed. The boy wasn’t even in my hands, but that didn’t matter now.

His expression darkened with hatred, yet he still refused to say whether my daughter was alive.

Watching him, my heart plummeted to the very bottom.

Could it be true? Was my daughter truly… dead?

The thought tore through me, and I could no longer hold myself back. I lunged forward and wrapped my hands around Harper’s throat.

“Rodney, give my daughter back to me! If she’s dead, Harper will go to the grave with her!”

Harper clearly hadn’t expected me to act so recklessly. Her smug expression collapsed into sheer panic.

Rodney’s eyes flickered toward her, his hands lifting as if to calm me down.

But in the next second, the hospital room flooded with bodyguards. They wrenched Harper from my grip, and I was instantly surrounded.

Slaps rained down on my face—hard, stinging blows—while Rodney stayed at Harper’s side, soothing her like a frightened child. His gaze, however, when it turned back to me, was pure ice.

“Throw her into the cold storage,” he ordered. “When she’s ready to tell us where Kayden is, let her out. If not, keep her there until I find him myself!”

The next second, they stripped away my clothes and shoved me into a freezing storage room. The air bit at my skin like knives; it was thirty degrees below zero. Standing at the doorway, Rodney met my eyes.

“Rodney,” I rasped, my voice raw from the cold, “I truly regret ever marrying you!”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second… But in the end, he turned without a word and walked away.

When the door finally opened again, three hours had passed. I uncurled my stiff, frozen body and slowly stepped out.

Rodney stood there holding Harper protectively, his gaze wary.

Behind them, Harper’s son looked perfectly healthy—looking warm and utterly unshaken.

I didn’t spare them another glance. Instead, I walked past and retrieved my phone from the room.

I typed a message to Macsen.

[Macsen, is my daughter still alive?]

I gripped the phone so tightly my knuckles ached. If Farrah was truly gone, I would set this entire place ablaze and drag every last one of them into the flames with me!

A reply came almost immediately.

[My men saved her. She’s fine. Get your documents ready. Tomorrow, I’ll come with your daughter to pick you up.]

My vision blurred as tears finally spilled over.

Thank God. Thank God my daughter was still alive!

Just then, Rodney stepped forward.

His expression was complicated as he studied me. “Who are you talking to?”

I didn’t even look at him. “Someone you don’t know,” I replied coolly.

He reached out, trying to snatch my phone, but I didn’t resist.

Still, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t unlock it. In the end, he had to hand it back, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“Tomorrow,” he said flatly, “you’re coming with me to a press conference. You’ll publicly admit that we’re already divorced.”

A short laugh escaped me as I idly scrolled through my phone. That was when I saw the news—Rodney had been far too brazen these past few days. His relationship with Harper was now all over the internet.

Only the identity of their child had been carefully kept under wraps.

Freya’s POV

No wonder Rodney was in such a rush.

Well, I agreed without much care.

After all, by tomorrow, I would be leaving with Macsen for good.

I’d let Rodney and Harper bear the bitter fruit they planted.

But when Rodney heard how readily I agreed, he didn’t look pleased. Instead, his brows knitted tighter.

Almost as if compelled, he muttered, “This is just for the company’s sake. I won’t divorce you. Harper has a gentle temperament—she won’t make a fuss. As long as you stay away from Macsen, you will always be my wife.”

He reached out, as if wanting to embrace me like he used to.

But I stepped aside, my movements subtle but unmistakable.

“Shouldn’t you go check on Harper? She’s been calling for you downstairs for quite a while,” I said, pointing toward the stairs.

Rodney studied me with a complicated expression. Downstairs, Harper’s voice carried an urgent edge.

Eventually, he turned and went down.

While I was left alone, I gathered all the identification documents belonging to me and my daughter. And then, I carefully packed away every luxury item Rodney had ever given me.

Tomorrow, all of it would be donated.

Just as I closed the bedroom door, he appeared in the doorway, his face twisted with fury.

Before I could speak, he lunged forward, yanking me by the arm and dragging me downstairs.

The moment my feet touched the floor, a sharp slap cracked across my face.

His eyes blazed with hatred. “I never realized you could be such a vicious woman, Freya!”

I pressed a hand to my cheek and looked around—finally taking in the scene before me.

Kayden lay on the floor, his face red and swollen. Beside him knelt his mother, crying miserably.

Seeing my gaze, Harper sobbed even louder, her tone dripping with wounded innocence.

“Freya, I know my relationship with Rodney makes you unhappy, but my boy is innocent! How could you have the nanny feed him something he’s allergic to?”

Then she turned to Rodney, her voice trembling with grief.

“Rodney… I think I should take him and leave. If he keeps living under the same roof as Freya, I truly don’t know what might happen to him. If you miss us… you can always come visit.”

With that, she took Kayden’s hand and was about to leave.

The nanny stood by, wringing her hands, her voice breaking.

“S-Sir, it was Ma’am Freya who told me to give him the allergenic food. She said if the boy died from it, no one could blame her. I had no choice, sir. I can’t afford to lose this job!”

I just stood to the side, not intending to defend myself at all.

Taking my silence as admission, disappointment flickered in Rodney’s eyes.

He caught Harper and Kayden by the arm, his words like a verdict.

“The ones who should leave aren’t you two. I’ll protect you. The one who needs to go… is her.”

His gaze locked on mine, unwavering.

I stood there, expressionless, as though awaiting judgment.

He scooped Kayden into his arms, his tone colder than ice.

“I’m taking him to the doctor. We won’t be coming back tonight. After tomorrow’s press conference, you’ll move out.”

Without another glance, he led Harper away.

For generations, every woman who married into the Laurents had lived in this villa.

Now, Rodney wanted me to announce our divorce at the press conference and move out of this place.

Soon, there would be nothing left between us—not even the paper-thin bond of marriage.

Sure enough, his lawyer arrived not long after.

With a blank expression, he handed me a divorce agreement.

“This is Sir Rodney’s instruction. Please don’t make things difficult for me, ma’am.”

I gave a faint, almost amused smile. Taking the pen from his hand, I signed my name without the slightest hesitation.

The next day, I dismissed all the servants from the villa and carried out the luggage I had packed the night before.

Before leaving, I called Macsen.

“The evidence I gave you before—you can use it now. Tomorrow’s the press conference. I want them utterly ruined.”

On the other end, Macsen chuckled softly, agreeing without hesitation.

Moments later, a Rolls-Royce pulled up at the villa gate.

The driver, someone Macsen had arranged for me, waited with the door open.

Before getting in, I poured gasoline around the villa.

It only took a single spark.

And the flames roared to life, devouring everything in an instant.

I turned, stepped into the car, and let the wind from the open window whip across my face.

For the first time in a long while, I smiled—truly smiled.

From this moment on, Rodney and Harper would know what it was to live in hell!