Tracy stopped in front of the Dior Company building.

The structure she had entered and exited countless times now felt alien and cold, almost hostile.

“Did you hear? Director Clairborne just won another international design award!”

“Really? How many has she won this year already?”

“I heard the CEO’s throwing her a big celebration party. The top designers will be there!”

“Damn. Now that’s what you call a real genius designer. She’s so young, and already this successful. Her future’s limitless!”

The employees’ chatter froze Tracy in her tracks..

Her heart twisted painfully, as if someone had stabbed straight through her chest.

Her designs, her efforts, her sleepless nights she endured on that isolated island—all of it had become someone else’s glory.

At that moment, she saw a familiar figure—Alston.

He emerged from the building in a perfectly tailored suit. Beside him was a petite woman clinging to his arm, the two of them chatting and laughing together.

In an instant, Tracy’s blood turned to ice.

That woman… was Avril Clairborne.

Three years had passed since they last met, and Avril was even more dazzling than before.

An expensive custom suit hugged her slender frame. Her makeup was flawless, her expression radiating confidence and satisfaction.

And the way she held Alston’s arm—so natural, so intimate.

Alston’s gaze swept past the crowd, and when it landed on Tracy, there was a brief flicker of shock and unease in his eyes… but only for a second.

He quickly regained his calm and composed demeanor.

“Tracy?” He released Avril’s hand and walked briskly toward her. “What are you doing here? I was just about to go pick you up from the island. I didn’t expect you to come back on your own.”

His concern was perfectly measured, tempered with just the right amount of surprise.

“Let me introduce you,” he said, turning and gesturing toward the woman beside him. “This is Dior Company Design Research Institute’s Chief Designer. Avril Clairborne.”

‘Chief designer?’

Another sharp pain shot through Tracy’s heart.

That position… was supposed to be hers!

Of course, Avril knew her. They’d grown up together—more than ten years in the same orphanage.

Back then, Avril had an angelic baby face, always so sweet and innocent. But she could lie without blinking.

“Grandma Director! I saw Tracy steal money from the donation box!”

Even at five years old, she had already learned how to disguise cruelty with tears and feigned vulnerability.

When Tracy was fourteen, her birth parents finally found her. She thought she’d left that part of her life—and that girl—behind forever.

But fate had other plans. Three years ago, Dior Company welcomed a new intern: Avril.

She was hopeless professionally, unable to operate even basic design software, yet her vulnerable act effortlessly attracted sympathy from the male employees.

At first, Tracy didn’t think much of it… until something about Alston began to change.

He no longer waited downstairs after work every day.

A cheap, colorful hair tie appeared around his wrist.

Strawberry candies—something he never ate—started showing up in his suit pocket.

And one day, he even casually asked her how to make honey water.

When he had truly loved her, he had been too busy every day to brew her a cup of coffee, let alone a cup of honey water.

Then came what shocked her more—Avril, who had failed the professional evaluation, somehow passed her probation and became a full-time designer.

Tracy had planned to confront Alston and demand an explanation.

But before she could, tragedy struck. That day, the devastating news of the Star Twilight fireworks disaster reached her.

And from that day, she disappeared from his world for three long years.

“Miss Tracy!” Avril’s voice pulled her back to the present.

Avril rushed forward and hugged her tightly, her tone trembling with feigned emotion. “You’re finally back! I’ve missed you so much!”

She held Tracy close, whispering in a tone full of warped pride.

“I really must thank you. If you hadn’t entrusted me with all your design drafts and research notes while you were… recovering, I could never have achieved what I have today. Miss Tracy, you’re truly so selfless. I honestly don’t know how I can ever return your kindness.”

Each word sliced into Tracy’s heart like a poisoned blade.

Those endless nights she spent on the island, thinking she was building inspiration for her comeback… She had no idea that every sketch she drew was being secretly sent out, becoming the ladder for someone else’s rise to fame.

Slowly, Tracy lifted her head to look at Alston.

His gaze darkened slightly, but he carefully avoided her searching gaze.

After a brief pause, he glanced at his watch, a hint of impatience flashing across his expression.

“Sorry, Tracy. I have an important meeting coming up. Take a cab home for now. We’ll talk tonight.”

Without another glance, he turned and walked toward the parking lot.

Avril followed close behind. Before getting into the car, she looked back and gave Tracy a wide and knowing smile.

Tracy stood frozen, watching the familiar Rolls-Royce disappear into the distance. A hollow, desolate ache spread through her chest.

She hailed a cab and gave the driver an address: Oakridge Estates.

But when she stood before that villa she shared with him and entered the password, a cold, mechanical voice sounded.

“Password incorrect.”

She frowned and tried again. Still, the same cold mechanical voice said, “Password incorrect.”

Hands trembling, she opened Facebook Messenger and scrolled through Avril’s MyDays.

The birthday post was still there—Avril smiling sweetly at her cake.

Tracy stared at the photo for a long moment.

Then, with a shaking finger, she entered a different code: 0526.

At last, with a single beep, the door unlocked.

She stumbled inside, and her breath caught in her throat. Everything had changed.

The warm and elegant home she’d designed with love was gone, replaced by a mismatched mess of decorations: pink cushions, cutesy dolls, and scented candles she’d never owned.

She walked mechanically to the bedroom. As she opened the door, a cloying perfume hit her—sweet, sickly, nothing like her familiar jasmine scent.

The bedside drawer was half-open. Inside lay an assortment of bright-colored sex toys.

Even in the trash bin were several used condoms.

The sight instantly made Tracy look pale.

At that moment, it felt like the room spun; her stomach churned violently.

She clutched the wall for support, trying to stay composed, but tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.

This place—once their home, their sanctuary—had now become Alston’s playground with his other woman.

Just then, from downstairs came the sound of the door opening.

“Tracy, you’re home already?” Alston’s voice called out.

Another voice followed—sweet and coquettish. “Alston, who’s here?”

Tracy bit down hard on her lip and forced herself to walk downstairs.

Alston was carrying Avril’s suitcase. When he saw Tracy’s pale face, he offered a casual explanation.

“Avril’s lease expired. Her landlord suddenly raised the rent, and she hasn’t found a new place yet. Since there are plenty of empty rooms here, I told her she could stay for a while.”

He turned to Avril. “Go take the small room upstairs. The lighting’s good. It should suit you.”

“Thank you, Alston,” Avril replied sweetly. “I’ll be good. I won’t disturb you or Tracy.”

She made sure to flash a sweet smile at Tracy again, feigning innocence.

Watching this scene, Tracy felt her sanity unravel.

She pointed upstairs. “Those things in the bedroom… Those toys—how do you explain that?”

Alston’s expression stiffened for a second before he smoothly recovered.

“Oh, those? Some friends came over for a party last time. They got too drunk and messed around. They must’ve left them behind. I’ve just been too busy to clean up. Don’t take it to heart.”

He said it lightly, as if it were nothing.

She stared at him for a long moment, and the last trace of warmth in her eyes vanished.

“Alston,” she said quietly, her voice steady and cold. “Tell me—why did you give my research and designs to Avril?”

Alston frowned. “Tracy. What do you mean by ‘give’? It wasn’t giving. It was passing on and continuing. While you were on the island, those designs needed someone to perfect and realize them. You laid the foundation; Avril completed it. Everyone wins, and the credit should be shared.”

He paused for a moment, then continued in that same calm, reasonable tone.

“Besides, those designs… they’re too good to be left gathering dust on that private island, right? Keeping them hidden from the world—wouldn’t that be have been the real loss? Tracy, do you still care about these empty titles? I thought after three years, you’d see past them.”

Tracy stared quietly at him—the man she had once loved so deeply—as he spoke the cruelest words in the gentlest voice, dismissing her pain as nothing more than childish pride.

She drew in a sharp breath, turned on her heel, and started toward the door. She needed to leave before she suffocated in this place.

“Tracy.” His voice came from behind her. “Wait.”

Her steps faltered.

“There’s a celebration tonight,” he said. “We’re holding a party for Avril to celebrate her winning the International Design Gold Award. I want you to come. As the company’s former chief designer, you should be proud of your junior’s success.”

“I’m not going,” Tracy said flatly, without looking back.

“This isn’t a request.” Alston closed the distance between them in a few strides and caught her wrist. “Tracy, you’ve been away for too long. It’s time to reconnect with the circle you once belonged to.”

He paused, his tone softening just slightly. “Or… do you want everyone to think you’re jealous of Avril’s success?”

Tracy slowly lifted her gaze. Once, his eyes had been warm and tender. Now, they were cold, filled with calculation and impatience.

“Fine,” she replied quietly. “I’ll go.”

Only then did Alston release her, looking satisfied. Without another word, he turned and walked away.

The top floor of the Waldorf Hotel shimmered with golden light.

Crystal chandeliers glittered above as champagne glasses clinked and laughter rippled through the air. The city’s design elites gathered in elegant clusters, each face glowing with admiration for the famous young talent—Avril.

When Tracy entered the party hall beside Alston, conversations faltered. Every pair of eyes seemed to turn toward her.

There was curiosity, surprise… and something else—something complicated in those eyes.

“Isn’t that Tracy McQueen?”

“I thought she disappeared three years ago...”

“And now, she shows up just as Avril’s at the peak of her fame? What a coincidence.”

Whispers spread like wildfire, but Tracy didn’t react. Her face remained devoid of any emotion as she stood in the corner.

Onstage, Avril was delivering her acceptance speech. Under the spotlights, she sparkled like a jewel.

“Thank you to everyone who has supported me,” she said sweetly, her voice soft and charming. “Especially Mr. Dior. Without you, I wouldn’t have had this opportunity to shine on the path of design.”

As she spoke, she cast a meaningful glance down at Alston.

He raised his glass in return, smiling up at her with a tenderness that made Tracy’s heart twist.

That smile—she once thought it belonged only to her.

Applause thundered through the hall as Avril descended the stage, surrounded by admirers. She went straight to Alston, slipped her arm through his, and rose on her toes to plant a light kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Alston,” she said sweetly.

He didn’t avoid her. In fact, he even brushed a hand over her hair.

“Don’t mention it. You deserve all the praise, Avril,” he said warmly.

From three meters away, Tracy watched the intimate scene unfold. Her chest felt like it was being crushed under an invisible weight.

Then, Avril approached her, still holding a champagne glass, her lips curved in that flawless, sickly sweet smile.

“Miss Tracy,” she said softly. “It’s been so long. Shall we talk?”

Her tone brimmed with pride. “You know, I used to hate you. Back at the orphanage, you were always the director’s favorite. Always the best. Everyone loved you. Everything good somehow ended up in your hands.”

She took a delicate sip of champagne, her eyes gleaming with malice.

“So what if your real parents came back for you to bring you home? So what if you met Alston? In the end, you still lost—to me.”

Slowly, Tracy’s fists clenched at her sides.

“Do you know what the last three years have been like?” Avril leaned closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “Alston and I were so happy. That bed of yours… We used it almost every night. He told me I knew better than you how to please a man.”

“Enough!” Tracy snapped, her voice trembling with rage. “You shameless, despicable thief! My designs, my lover, my life—you stole everything! Do you really think that means you’ve won?”

“Of course, I have.” Avril’s smile widened, cheerful and undaunted. “Because soon, Alston will be mine completely. Guess when he’s planning to propose?”

Tracy glared at her, her eyes blazing. “You bitch—”

But before she could finish saying it, the ground suddenly began to shake violently!

The massive crystal chandelier overhead swayed wildly. Walls groaned and cracked. Glass shattered.

There was an earthquake!

The party hall instantly descended into chaos. Terrified screams, pounding footsteps, and the sound of shattering glass filled the air as guests stumbled toward the exit in a frenzy.

Tracy was near the door. She ran instinctively.

But just as she was about to step out of danger, a hand suddenly clamped around her wrist from behind and yanked her back with brutal force.

Caught off guard, she fell hard to the floor. Pain shot through her as the panicked crowd surged forward like a stampede. Feet pounded mercilessly against her arms, her legs, her back—everywhere.

“Avril!”

Through the chaos, Alston’s voice rang out, desperate and clear.

Tracy lifted her head just in time to see him rushing toward the stage, his eyes instantly locked on Avril.

Without hesitation, he rushed toward her, pulling her into his arms and shielding her as debris rained down. Holding her tightly, he guided her toward the exit.

Lying amid the chaos, Tracy watched as he disappeared from view—still holding that woman close. With that, the last trace of warmth inside her went cold.

Blood trickled from her elbow, staining her black dress a deep crimson. She tried to move, gritting her teeth. But before she could lift herself, a deafening crash exploded above her.

A crystal chandelier and a chunk of the ceiling came crashing down, slamming onto her body!

Agony consumed her. She curled up in torment instinctively, realizing she was trapped beneath the wreckage, unable to move.

Her vision blurred; her consciousness flickered between darkness and light.

She didn’t know how long had passed before she heard voices—shouting, footsteps, someone calling her name.

“We found Miss Tracy!” a man shouted urgently.

Then came Alston’s voice—familiar, commanding, and taut with worry.

“Get her out now! Keep her alive—whatever it takes!”

Her heart trembled faintly.

So… at such a crucial moment, he did still care about her.

But before the rescuers could move, another voice pierced the air—soft, trembling, tearful.

“Alston! My dog! Luther is still inside! He must be terrified! He must be hiding somewhere! He must be shaking!” Avril sobbed, clutching his arm. “He must be terrified! Please! Save him! He’s all I have left in this world!”

She clung desperately to his arm, her tears pouring down. “He’s my only family from the orphanage… He’s been with me all these years! Please… save him!”

She cried like a kitten in the rain—pitiful and fragile.

The rescuers hesitated. One of them glanced at his monitor and said grimly, “Sir, the aftershocks are coming. We don’t have much time. You have to decide now—do we save Miss Tracy first, or the dog?”

The air froze.

Avril broke down completely, crying harder. “Alston, I’m begging you! Luther is still so small! He can’t die! He’s all I have left!”

She clutched his shirt, nearly collapsing in his arms. “If I lose him, I don’t know how I’ll go on…”

From beneath the rubble, Tracy could barely see. But through her fading vision, she caught a glimpse of Alston’s face.

He was in conflict. His eyes flickered between her and Avril.

Seconds ticked by—each one a stab of pain, each one a step closer to death.

Finally, Alston closed his eyes and gave the order in a low voice.

“Save the dog first.”

Those four words struck Tracy’s heart like thunder.

With that, the brutal truth couldn’t be clearer—all those vows, all those promises of “forever”—in the end, they couldn’t even outweigh a dog.

‘Alston… How cruel you are…’

At that point, Tracy’s hope shattered completely. She slowly closed her eyes, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.

In the quiet of her dying thoughts, an undying hatred roared within her.

‘Alston, I’m going to leave. Two weeks from now, I’ll leave you forever!’

The rescue team moved swiftly, sprinting toward the direction Avril had pointed out.

Tears still glistened on her cheeks when she suddenly broke into a radiant smile and threw herself into Alston’s arms.

“Thank you, Alston! I knew you cared about me the most!”

Alston soothed her. “Don’t be afraid. Luther will be fine.”

Their conversation carried clearly through the air—each word stabbing into Tracy’s ears like a sharpened blade, slicing her heart to pieces.

From afar came a faint rumble—the tremor of another aftershock approaching.

Tracy lay among the cold ruins, feeling her life slipping away bit by bit.

She couldn’t help but think of her parents’ worried voices on the phone, of the plane ticket she hadn’t used, of the new life that was supposed to begin for her…

Then, from the murky depths of unconsciousness, she was yanked back into the world of the living. Her awareness was hazy, but her body cried out before her mind could catch up.

Pain radiated from every inch of her, her bones crushed as if by a heavy machine, her joints and muscles screaming sharply in agony.

Her eyelids lifted with immense effort, revealing a sliver of the world—a blurry white hospital ceiling.

Before she could even gather her thoughts or figure out where she was, the ward door burst open with a violent kick, the sound jolting her heart like a thunderclap.

Standing at the doorway was Avril. Her face, once soft and innocent, now brimmed with open malice.

Behind her were two men in white coats, expressionless, pushing a wheeled stretcher into the room.

Suddenly, a chill crawled up Tracy’s spine.

“H-Hey… What are you going to do?” Her voice was hoarse and trembling, thick with fear she couldn’t suppress.

Avril strode to the bedside, looking down at her with a childlike, twisted excitement.

“Miss Tracy, you’re awake! That’s wonderful!” She clapped her hands cheerfully. “You see, I recently came up with the most brilliant idea for a fireworks design. I can’t wait to paint it out and see how it looks. But unfortunately, I just can’t seem to find the right canvas…”

Her gaze dropped—landing on Tracy’s trembling body.

“Your skin is so smooth. Why don’t you be… my canvas?”

“Let go of me! Are you insane?!”

Tracy screamed with all the strength she could muster, but her voice was weak, almost pitiful.

She clung to the edge of the bed, frantically trying to pull herself back.

Just as the struggle between them escalated, the door flew open again.

Alston appeared at the threshold, his tall figure framed by the harsh fluorescent light.

“What are you doing?” His voice was sharp, disbelieving.

Instantly, Avril released her grip and turned toward him, her expression shifting in a heartbeat—from cruelty to a pitiful sweetness. She clung to his arm, her voice soft and pleading.

“Alston, you came just in time.”

She pointed at Tracy. “I only wanted Miss Tracy to help me a little. I came up with this amazing fireworks idea and wanted to paint it. Her skin is just perfect for my canvas… But if Miss Tracy doesn’t want to, then… then I guess, I’ll just forget it.”

She lowered her head, her shoulders trembling slightly—looking sensible yet disappointed.

In an instant, Tracy’s heart leapt to her throat. She looked up at Alston with the last remnants of her strength, her voice cracking and hoarse.

“No! Alston, you can’t let her do this!”

For a moment, Alston was silent.

Then, his thin lips parted as he turned to Avril.

“If it helps you,” he said quietly, “then do it.”

He paused before warning her. “But mind your limits. Don’t kill her.”

And with that, he turned and walked away without glancing back.

“Alston!”

Tracy broke down completely, her voice tearing through the air, full of despair and hatred. But the man’s decisive silhouette didn’t stop; it vanished beyond the door.

Then, the door clicked shut. Tracy was locked from the outside. He really made sure to deny her help from anyone outside.

Avril’s gentle mask vanished instantly, leaving only twisted delight and vicious glee.

She walked to the stretcher and picked up what looked like a neatly arranged set of “paintbrushes.”

Tracy’s blood ran cold when she realized… they weren’t brushes at all!

They were steel needles of varying thicknesses, glinting coldly under the light.

And beside them, the so-called “paints” were bottles of tattoo ink, each one vividly colored and reeking with a pungent, chemical stench!

“Avril… What… What are you going to do?” Tracy’s voice shook uncontrollably with terror.

Avril picked up the thickest needle, admiring the glint of metal under the lamp. Her smile was both sweet and sadistic.

“Needles are my brushes,” she said softly. “Only with these can I create a masterpiece that will never fade—one etched into your flesh and bone. Right?”

As soon as she said that, Tracy’s last shred of restraint snapped.

With a desperate scream, she lunged at Avril, fueled by pain and fury. She wanted to strangle her to end this nightmare.

“You psycho! You stole my designs, you fooled Alston, and now, you want to kill me?! A filthy, shameless woman like you deserves to die!”

Suddenly, Avril kicked Tracy hard between the legs, the smile on the former’s face sinister and strange. “Then… let’s see who lasts until the end!”

Tracy crumpled to the floor with a strangled gasp, pain exploding through her body.

Avril’s eyes gleamed darkly as she lifted the steel needle and drove it down mercilessly into Tracy’s bare shoulder.

“Ahhh! Ahhh!”

The scream tore through her throat, echoing around the sterile room, only to be muffled.

The brutal, bone-piercing pain made her whole body convulse violently, as if struck by electricity.

Avril was prepared. She quickly stuffed a rug into Tracy’s mouth. Now, only faint, broken whimpers escaped.

Avril began to move the long needle across Tracy’s smooth back—methodically, deliberately—etching a pattern of fireworks into her flesh.

The sharp point pierced skin and muscle, carrying with it the burning sting of tattoo ink. Every thrust brought searing pain that lit her nerves on fire.

Each stroke drew another suppressed moan, another involuntary spasm.

“Do you know?” Avril whispered beside Tracy’s ear, her breath cold and close. “Bitch, just for you, I’m giving you a grand fireworks finale—one that marks the end of your love and your dreams. Every spark I carve into you will be my ‘thank you.’ You’ll wear it forever—engraved into your skin, buried in your bones. A reminder that everything you had… was meant for me!”

Wave after wave of agony crashed over Tracy. There was no end, no escape—only pain and despair swallowing her whole.

Through the blur of tears clouding her vision, the world faded into nothing but the searing torment in her back and Avril’s deranged laughter echoing through the empty ward, endlessly reverberating in the darkness.