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.

When Tracy struggled awake again from endless darkness and unbearable pain, she found herself lying in a hospital ward.

The door opened softly, and footsteps approached.

Even without opening her eyes, she could sense that familiar presence—Alston.

He stopped beside her bed, standing there in silence for a long moment. His gaze lingered on her face—so pale it was almost translucent, streaked with traces of tears that hadn’t yet dried.

“How do you feel?” he asked quietly.

Her eyes stayed shut. Her long lashes trembled violently, but she refused to open them.

With all the strength she could muster, she turned her body to the side, presenting her back and the back of her head to him.

The motion pulled at the wound on her back, sharp pain radiating through her spine until her body curled up involuntarily. But she would rather endure that physical agony than look at him again—or grant him a single word.

Watching her slender shoulders tremble faintly from the pain, seeing the clear tracks of tears still glistening on her face, Alston felt that strange, uncontrollable ache twist inside his chest once more.

His gaze drifted, almost unconsciously, until it fell upon her hair spread across the pillow. Among the blonde strands, he caught sight of her small, faintly visible fair ear—and on it, a tiny black mole.

That mole…

His pupils contracted sharply. A blurred but vivid image flashed through his mind. Many years ago, by that icy lake, a little girl had jumped into the water to save him without any hesitation.

When she was pulled ashore, drenched and shivering, a lock of wet hair had slipped aside, revealing… a tiny mole on her ear. The same position. The same shape.

His breath caught at the memory. Without thinking, he blurted out, “Tracy… when you were a child—at the orphanage in the west of the city—did you… Did you ever save someone?”

The question sounded absurd the moment it left his mouth.

He quickly shook his head, trying to drive the ridiculous thought away.

That incident—no one but him and his rescuer knew the details.

Besides, Avril had admitted it herself. She’d described everything perfectly—the clothes he’d been wearing, the pocket watch that had fallen into the water… How could it possibly have been Tracy?

But at his question, Tracy’s body stiffened ever so slightly.

Her dry, pale lips parted. Fragments of a long-buried memory seemed to stir awake at the edge of her mind, pried open by his words.

She was just about to speak when suddenly, the door burst open with a loud crash.

Avril stumbled in, panic written all over her face.

“Alston! It’s all my fault! I-I made a terrible mistake!” She threw herself into his arms, crying uncontrollably. “I just wanted to draw on her skin with a pen, but it didn’t look real enough, so I thought—what if I tried a tattoo instead? I never meant to hurt her! I didn’t know it would go wrong! I didn’t mean it!”

Alston frowned. His gaze moved from the trembling woman in his arms to the silent figure on the bed, still turned away from them. His voice sank low.

“Avril, this time you went too far. Apologize to Tracy.”

Avril turned immediately toward the bed, her tears streaming down her cheeks. “Tracy, I’m sorry. Please forgive me…”

But Tracy didn’t move or respond. It was as if she hadn’t heard a thing.

Her silence made Avril’s sobs sound all the more awkward and only deepened the restless frustration in Alston’s chest.

In the end, he said nothing more. He put his arm around Avril’s shoulders and led her out of the ward.

After they left, Tracy remained in the hospital for a few more days.

During that time, she scrolled aimlessly through her phone, numb and detached. The screen suddenly lit up with Avril’s latest post on Instagram: a collage of nine photos—intimate shots of her and Alston dining at a high-end restaurant.

And on her ring finger gleamed a dazzling diamond ring.

The caption read: [Thank you for your promise. Please take care of me for the rest of my life!]

Below were rows of comments from their mutual friends offering blessings and envy.

Tracy stared at that blinding diamond ring, but her eyes were empty. There wasn’t even a ripple left in her heart.

Just then, her phone chimed with two text messages.

[Notice: Your identity cancellation request has been processed. All related documents are now invalid.]

Her father called soon after, telling her that all the surveillance footage from that year had been found, and that the plane would depart in two hours.

After hanging up, her hands trembled as she opened the files her father sent—videos proving she was the one who had saved Alston all those years ago.

She copied the footage to a flash drive and sent it to Alston’s address by courier.

Then, she forced her battered body to sign the discharge papers, pack what little she had left—barely enough to fill a single bag—and walked out of the hospital.

She stood by the busy street, the city’s night air brushed across her face, carrying the noise and chill of the traffic.

As she gazed at the skyline, she felt a strange relief in her chest—a freedom she hadn’t felt in years.

Finally, she was leaving this city of lies and deceit for good. She was leaving it all behind to begin her new life.

She raised her hand to hail a cab.

But all of a sudden, a strong arm snaked around her neck from behind!

A rough hand pressed a soaked cloth tightly over her mouth and nose.

The pungent, chemical smell burned her lungs. In an instant, her breath caught, and her vision spun.

She didn’t even have time to scream before everything went black.