Margarita had no idea that Wade and Casey hadn’t truly left the cemetery.

Their car sat idle at the foot of the mountain, the engine silent, the atmosphere heavy with something unspoken.

Wade’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles turning pale. He had tried to start the car several times, but his foot refused to press the accelerator.

"Wade..."

Casey's voice was soft, careful, like a whisper meant to soothe a wounded beast. She reached over, her fingers resting lightly on the back of his hand.

Wade flinched, but he didn’t pull away.

"I know," Casey murmured. "You haven’t completely let go of Sister Margarita."

Her words cut like a slow, dull knife, peeling away the layers of denial he had built around himself.

Wade’s face stiffened. His voice, cold and sharp, snapped back, "That’s impossible."

Casey didn’t argue. She only sighed, her fingers intertwining with his in quiet patience.

"I don’t mind," she said gently. "It’s hard to forget someone you once loved deeply… I understand. I don’t expect you to love me right away. I don’t even expect you to completely erase her from your heart."

Her voice was steady, unwavering. "But I do know one thing—you won’t keep loving the woman who took your sister away. You just need time, and I’m willing to wait. Five years, ten years… however long it takes. As long as you give me a chance to walk into your heart."

Wade’s breath hitched. His gaze drifted toward the rain-streaked window, where the sky hung heavily, pressing down on the world like an impending storm.

And then, unbidden, Margarita’s face surfaced in his mind.

The face he had loved once. The face he had sworn to hate.

Six years. He had told himself he despised her. That he could forget her.

But every night, when the world was quiet, his dreams betrayed him.

He dreamed of their childhood, of her bright laughter, of the way she used to lean in close and whisper, "Wade, we’ll be together forever."

He had told himself she only made a mistake. That she hadn’t meant to kill his sister.

On his days off, he would find himself at the prison gates, watching from a distance, never daring to approach.

And on the day she was released, when the world expected him to rejoice in his hatred—his heart had surged with something else.

Relief.

Joy.

He had told himself he was keeping her close for revenge. But deep down, he knew the truth. He had been afraid. Afraid she wouldn’t survive on her own.

And he hated himself for it.

For still caring.

For betraying his dead sister.

For betraying his grieving parents.

For betraying Casey, who had always been by his side.

"Casey..." His voice came out hoarse. His fingers trembled as he clutched her hand. "I’m sorry."

Casey’s eyes shimmered, unshed tears glistening. "No need to apologize, Wade. As long as you’re willing to give me a chance… I’ll wait."

Wade said nothing. He inhaled deeply, started the car—this time, he pressed the accelerator.

---

Margarita was found hours later.

Curled up in the cemetery’s shadows, her body as cold as death.

Wade’s assistant lifted her into the car, brought her back to the villa. Someone changed her into warm clothes, wrapped her in a thick blanket, and pushed her wheelchair into the living room.

Wade stood before her, a stack of photos and letters in his hands.

Their photos. Her love letters. The rings they once bought together.

His voice was eerily light. "Margarita, these… shouldn’t exist anymore."

Then, without hesitation, he tossed them into the fireplace.

The flames devoured their past—charred paper curling into ash, memories dissolving into smoke.

Margarita watched, silent. But inside, it felt as though an invisible hand had wrapped around her heart, squeezing, crushing—until the pain was unbearable.

Their childhood. Their love. The years she had spent loving him.

All burned away in an instant.

Wade pulled out his phone, his fingers moving across the screen with practiced ease.

Then, he tossed it onto the table in front of her.

"Margarita." His voice was quiet, almost indifferent.

"After Casey and I get married, you can leave. Leave this city—go as far away from me as possible. From now on, we will never see each other again."

He paused, his tone tightening.

"Only this way… can I control myself. If I see you again, I’ll want to kill you—to avenge my sister."

Margarita lowered her gaze to the phone screen. The string of numbers glowed coldly in the dim light—enough to bury her at sea a dozen times over.

Her throat tightened, an unbearable weight pressing down on her chest. If she spoke now, she feared the sobs would escape.

After a long silence, she curled her lips into a smile—one that was more painful than crying.

"I didn't expect Mr. Roe to still be such a law-abiding man... Thank you for not killing me."

Wade's expression darkened. The corner of his mouth lifted in a self-deprecating smirk—mocking his own hesitation, his own weakness.

"Take the money. Get out of my sight. Go as far as you can."

Without another word, he turned and strode away. His back was rigid, his steps unwavering—cold, final.

Behind him, the flames in the brazier crackled and danced, their light flickering against his sharp profile. But no fire could burn away the darkness in his eyes.

Margarita clutched the phone, her fingers digging into its surface as she watched him disappear into the night.

A gust of wind carried her whisper into the void.

"Wade… goodbye."

Margarita finally settled all the expenses for the sea burial.

She glanced at the remaining balance in her account. Without a second thought, she donated every last cent to the Women's Foundation, leaving nothing for herself.

Money had lost its meaning. Her life was coming to an end, but her body—at least—could still serve one final purpose.

At the hospital, she signed the organ donation agreement.

The doctor hesitated. "Are you sure? This means your body will be completely dissected. It may not even be fully cremated."

Margarita smiled faintly. "It doesn’t matter. I’m dying anyway. If I can help someone… consider it my last atonement."

---

The wedding of Wade and Casey proceeded as planned, an extravagant spectacle that dominated the headlines.

The entire Everton buzzed with celebration. Fireworks exploded across the sky, their brilliance illuminating every corner of the metropolis.

People gazed up at the dazzling display, sighing at the perfect happiness of the newlyweds.

Meanwhile, in the shadows, Margarita sat in a wheelchair, hidden from sight—like a stray cat, forgotten by the world.

She watched as Wade held Casey’s hand and walked slowly down the red carpet.

She watched as he slipped an exquisite diamond ring onto Casey’s finger.

She listened as he spoke, his voice filled with devotion.

"Casey, for the rest of my life, I will love you with all my heart."

Margarita felt nothing. The pain had long since numbed her, even tears seemed like a luxury she could no longer afford.

Then, beneath the burning sky, as fireworks reached their peak, Wade leaned down and kissed Casey.

The crowd erupted in applause and cheers.

At that moment, Margarita quietly turned her wheelchair around and left, pushing against the tide of revelry.

The noise, the joy—it all had nothing to do with her anymore.

She forced her frail body forward, searching for a final resting place.

Breathing alone was exhausting.

Then, suddenly, a rush of people surged around her.

Her wheelchair was shoved left, then right—until, at last, it toppled over.

Margarita crashed onto the pavement, her elbows and knees slamming against the cold ground. A sharp, searing pain nearly stole her consciousness.

But she didn’t care.

Gritting her teeth, she crawled forward, inch by inch, reaching for the wheelchair that had been pushed away.

She finally pulled herself back into it—just as blinding headlights flooded her vision.

A large truck barreled toward her.

Margarita’s pupils shrank.

Too late.

Bang—

Margarita’s body was flung through the air, tracing a tragic arc before crashing onto the pavement.

At that same moment, the grand wedding of Wade and Casey had just concluded.

Casey lifted her glass, preparing to thank the guests. But before the words could leave her lips, a sharp tremor ran through her body. The champagne flute slipped from her grasp and shattered against the floor with a crisp, ringing sound.

"Casey!"

Wade caught her just in time, his heart clenching as he saw her face—pale as paper, her delicate fingers clutching his sleeve in desperation. Her voice was so weak, it was barely a whisper.

"Wade… I feel… so uncomfortable…"

Panic surged through Wade like a tidal wave. Without hesitation, he swept her into his arms and rushed out of the banquet hall. His voice trembled with urgency.

"Hold on, Casey! We’ll be at the hospital soon!"

His strides were fast, but his mind was blank.

He had lost too many people. His sister.

And Margarita—the woman he once loved.

He could not lose Casey, too. Never.

---

At the hospital, Casey was rushed into the emergency room.

Dr. Malcolm O'Connor frowned at the examination results. "Her condition is critical. She needs a heart transplant immediately… but there’s no suitable donor available."

Just then, an assistant burst in, a medical report in hand.

"Dr. O'Connor! We found a match! A patient from today’s car accident—she signed an organ donation agreement before her death. Her heart is a perfect fit!"

Malcolm grabbed the report but froze when she saw the name.

Before she could speak, the doors to the emergency room swung open, and Wade strode in, his expression dark and unreadable.

"I heard there’s a heart available," he said coldly.

Malcolm hesitated. "Yes, but the donor… she’s not confirmed dead yet." She swallowed hard. "Wade, the accident victim is—"

"Confirmed dead?" Wade cut her off. His voice was devoid of emotion. "That crash was fatal. What are the odds of survival? Instead of leaving her to suffer, it’s better for her heart to serve its final purpose."

His gaze sharpened. "I’ll compensate her family—enough to secure them a lifetime of comfort. You just need to proceed with the transplant. Don’t concern yourself with anything else."

Malcolm’s grip tightened around the report. "But… she still has a faint heartbeat—"

"Enough!" Wade’s voice was laced with fury. "Casey doesn’t have time to wait! Are you going to let her die?"

He took a step closer, his presence suffocating.

"Malcolm, I helped you climb to this position, step by step. Without me, would you have become an attending physician so young? Now, are you really willing to let Casey die for the sake of some irrelevant person?"

Malcolm’s lips parted, but no words came out.

---

The surgery began.

Under the cold, sterile lights, Malcolm stood over Margarita’s unconscious body, scalpel in hand.

He hesitated—just for a moment—before whispering under his breath, as if convincing himself.

"You killed Wade’s sister. This is justice. Don’t blame me. You were a doctor, too. You’d understand."

Just then—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The heart monitor beside Margarita shrieked in warning.

The assistant paled. "Dr. O'Connor! The patient… she’s still alive! But she’s fading fast—she’s… dying!"