“You’re just a low-class nobody, and you dare set foot in Imperial Crest Manor? Get out immediately after dropping off your things. If you offend any of the elites here, you’ll die without even knowing how.”

I had worked up a sweat struggling just now. I took off my coat and snorted coldly.

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

Just as I took two steps forward, Julian suddenly blocked my path. His eyes were bloodshot as they fixed on my chest.

“Arielle, I told you the day we divorced—I don’t love you anymore.”

“So why tattoo my initials on your chest? Are you still that obsessed with me? Get it through your head—I’ll never get back together with you!”

I paused, then glanced down at the tattoo on my chest: capital letters “YZ.”

Only then did I realize—my son’s father shares the same initials as the last two characters of Julian’s name.

Annoyed, I cursed under my breath. It was all that guy’s fault.

He once said that tattooing your partner’s name meant you’d meet again in the next life, so he begged me to do it with him.

In the end, he couldn’t bear to see me in pain, so I only got his initials, while he tattooed my full name.

That little gesture was now causing a major misunderstanding.

I awkwardly opened my mouth to explain,

“Uh, this isn’t—”

But Vanessa cut in, fuming.

“Arielle, do you think a tattoo of Aze’s name is going to win him back?”

“Just a few days ago on Valentine’s Day, Aze had my face tattooed over his heart. I’m the only one he loves. Don’t embarrass yourself!”

To prove her point, Julian unbuttoned his shirt and revealed a tattoo of Vanessa’s face.

With a cold tone, he said,

“My body and soul belong to Vanessa. Arielle, do yourself a favor—get that tattoo removed and stop humiliating yourself.”

If I weren’t in such a hurry, I might’ve asked who his tattoo artist was—the work wasn’t bad.

But my son was already on his way. He probably missed me.

And once he shows up, how was I supposed to comfort my easily-jealous husband if the little guy became a third wheel?

I didn’t have time to waste on Julian’s fantasies and quickly hurried inside.

Just then, the guard room's speaker blared:

“Attention, residents. During today’s anti-prostitution operation conducted by the city’s public security bureau, a suspect escaped by disguising herself. The woman is HIV-positive and harbors strong resentment toward society. She has been infiltrating upscale communities dressed as delivery people to deliberately spread the virus. If you notice anything suspicious, please report immediately…”

The next moment, all eyes turned to me.

Julian’s face filled with disbelief.

“Arielle, I didn’t think you’d fall so low after losing me... You’ve become a prostitute?”

Vanessa’s gaze shifted, and she pointed at the red rash on my arm—just an allergic reaction from two days ago—and shouted:

“I’ve seen AIDS patients in the hospital. Arielle’s symptoms are identical!”

“Security! Hurry and catch her! Don’t let this maniac hurt our residents!”

Several security guards rushed toward me and knocked me to the ground with a violent kick.

I glared at Vanessa and said through clenched teeth,

“You’re slandering me! I’ll sue you for defamation!”

Vanessa sneered.

“I just noticed—there’s no delivery label on your shopping bag, and your uniform is fake. You show up at a luxury community like Imperial Crest Manor in the middle of the night with a bunch of condoms. If you’re not selling yourself, what else could you possibly be doing?”

“I came here to find my husband. He’s the international real estate tycoon you’ve been talking about—Sebastian Ward!”

A few seconds passed in silence.

Then, the entire crowd erupted in laughter.

“Did I hear that right? Arielle claims her husband is Boss Ward? She’s clearly sick—her brain’s fried too.”

“God, I’m dying from laughter. Has she even looked at herself? She’s a used-up leftover that Julian dumped, and now she’s walking around like a biohazard. And she dares claim she touched Mr. Ward?”

Some onlookers, however, voiced doubts.

“But judging from how Arielle spoke just now, she didn’t seem like she was lying. And if she really wanted to spread a virus, why would she be carrying condoms? Doesn’t make sense. I’ve never heard of such a considerate way to take revenge on society.”

“Tsk. That’s all part of the act, don’t you get it? It’s called deception. She’s just putting on a show for gullible idiots like you. If she’s really Mrs. Ward, why doesn’t she call Mr. Ward right now and ask him to come get her?”

Flustered, I reached for my phone—only to realize I had rushed out and left it at home.

Seeing this, Manager Holloway raised his hand and slapped me across the face.

“Can’t keep the act going now, huh? I’ve had enough of you. Do you really think an international mogul like Mr. Ward would ever care about some used-up woman passed around by others?”

“If we let you in and something happens, the entire property management will be held responsible!”

My cheek burned from the slap, and Julian suddenly spoke up coldly:

“That’s enough. Let her go. I don’t want her filth polluting my place.”

Vanessa’s expression darkened but quickly shifted to one of faux concern.

“Aze, the scene just now was broadcast live. Arielle’s face and tongue must be destroyed.”

“Boss Ward is famously obsessed with his wife. A while back, a model flirted in front of her and claimed she was pregnant with his child. Mrs. Ward cried for ten minutes. The model was later silenced with a mute drug, turned into a human pig, and shipped off to Southeast Asia.”

Julian froze for a moment. Then, as if making a decision, he ordered coldly:

“Cut Arielle’s face. Slice her tongue. Now.”

The security guards donned gloves and took out knives, ready to disfigure me.

Pain seared through me as the blade grazed my skin. I screamed and thrashed.

“Julian! If you dare lay another finger on me, your entire Cross family will go bankrupt tomorrow. My husband won’t let this go!”

As blood dripped from my cheek, Julian wavered, his face conflicted.

Vanessa immediately stepped in, coaxing him:

“Aze, I know you’re soft-hearted. But this is for Arielle’s own good.”

“If Boss Ward sees the livestream and comes here personally, her fate will be far worse. At least if we take the initiative now, maybe he’ll go easy on her.”

Just then, a limited-edition Bentley rolled to a stop nearby.

A well-dressed, cherubic little boy stepped out of the car.

One of the bystanders instantly recognized the vehicle.

“That’s Boss Ward’s car—and that’s his only son!”

The boy spotted me pinned to the ground. His eyes welled up, and he rushed forward on his little legs, crying,

“Mom!”

I crawled toward him, but Vanessa stomped on my hand, stopping me.

“Arielle, your blood is full of viruses. Did you fail to seduce Mr. Ward and now want to infect his son, too? Do you have any shred of humanity left?”

She held the crying child back and comforted him gently.

“Young Master, don’t cry. That woman is sick. Wait until the uncles and aunties deal with her, then you can come over.”

Then she turned anxiously to Julian.

“Aze, what are you waiting for? This is serious. If Mr. Ward finds out that Arielle not only tried to get in his bed but also tried to harm his son, she’s as good as dead!”

“And it could drag you down too! If this ruins your chance to break into the international market—what then?!”

Julian crouched down and looked at me, helpless and conflicted.

“Arielle… this deal really means everything to me. Just endure it for now. After it’s over, I’ll take you to the best doctors and get you the most expensive medication.”

“Don’t worry. Even if you lose your tongue, become mute, and end up disfigured, I’ll still support you.”

They pried my mouth open by force while my son struggled to break free from Vanessa’s grip, crying heartbreakingly, “Mom, don’t move...”

Vanessa covered his mouth and cooed sweetly,

“Baby, don’t shout. Your throat will get sore. It’s not worth it for bad people~ Just hang in there. You’ll see your mommy soon~”

Seeing my son’s bruised face made my heart twist in pain. I tried to speak, but the cold blade pressed against my tongue.

A sharp sting followed, slicing a wound, and a sickly sweet, metallic taste filled my mouth.

I shut my eyes in despair.

Then, suddenly, a deep, commanding voice rang out—

“Touch her one more time, and you’ll regret it.”