A violent tremor shot through her, cold rising from the soles of her feet and swallowing her whole. Her lips quivered uncontrollably.

"Impossible..."

Ignoring the pain in her injured arm, Solana grabbed her car keys and bolted for the door. But the very next second, a hand seized her wrist.

She turned—only to crash into the turbulent gaze of Wilbert.

"I'll go with you."

Seeing her reddened eyes, his chest tightened as if gripped by an invisible fist.

Realizing this, he stiffened, ruthlessly pushing down the absurd thought. His tone turned deliberately cold.

"Don't overthink it. I'm only doing this for the cooperation between our families."

By the time they arrived at the hospital—having rushed the whole way—Solana was about to dash inside when the sudden, piercing alarm of the monitors exploded through the corridor.

Her mind went blank. Her body froze as if nailed to the floor.

It took her a long moment to turn her head toward the room.

The ventilator had already turned into a flat line. A doctor gently drew a white sheet over her mother's face.

In that instant, the entire world seemed to fall silent.

Every ounce of her strength evaporated. Darkness swallowed her as she collapsed.

...

When she woke up again—Solana didn't even stop to put on her shoes. She sprinted straight to her mother's ward.

Seeing the empty bed, she grabbed the nurse's arm in panic.

"Where's my mom? Where did my mom go?!"

The nurse looked troubled, stammering for a long time before managing a complete sentence.

"Miss Scott... your mother... after her surgery... she was sent for cremation..."

Cremation?!

A deafening buzz filled Solana's ears.

She hadn't even seen her mother one last time—who dared to send her for cremation?!

"Who did it?!"

Her eyes reddened with fury, her voice a raw scream ripped from her throat.

But then, a single word from the nurse made her freeze. Her gaze sharpened instantly.

"What surgery? My mom is gone—what surgery could she possibly have undergone?!"

"It was... an organ donation surgery..."

The nurse trembled harder, afraid to even lift her head.

"Your mother... she got into an accident because a young girl drove against traffic. But... but Mr. Patel didn't even try to seek justice for his mother-in-law. Instead, the moment he saw the girl's injured eyes... he forced the hospital to give her your mother's eyes..."

Her voice cracked at the end.

And when Solana heard the name of the girl—Imogen Turner—her vision shook.

Her heart felt torn apart by a thousand blades, pain exploding viciously inside her chest.

So that was it.

Wilbert never came with her out of concern.

He was thinking about how to deliver her mother's eyes to the murderer!

The very woman who destroyed their marriage.

A hollow laugh escaped her throat, brittle and wild. Rage devoured every shred of reason.

When she finally found Imogen's ward—the sight before her made blood roar in her ears.

Wilbert sat at the girl's bedside, feeding her porridge spoon by spoon. In his eyes was a tenderness Solana hadn't seen once in all the years they'd known each other.

And she?

Her mother had died a brutal death. Even her body was desecrated. Yet the killer sat here, enjoying her husband's affection.

Why?!

Why should the murderer bask in warmth while she drowned in grief?

A tidal wave of fury seized her.

Solana kicked the door open, stormed forward, and grabbed Imogen by the collar.

"You wretch! I'll take your life for hers!"

Imogen's face turned ghostly pale. Her voice trembled. "No—ahhh—!"

Before she could finish, Solana slammed her head against the wall.

Blood splattered instantly. Imogen let out a raw, piercing scream.

Solana didn't stop. She yanked her hair again, lifting her head for another strike, but the next second—

"Get away from her!"

Wilbert kicked Solana aside, his eyes colder than a blade.

She staggered, crashing into the wall. Pain exploded through her bones like shattering glass.

After soothing Imogen, Wilbert's icy gaze skewered Solana—but before he could speak—a wet, choking sound burst from her throat.

Solana vomited a mouthful of dark blood and collapsed.

Wilbert froze.

The accusation on his tongue lodged in his throat as he stared at the pool of blood spreading across the floor. His fingers twitched beneath his sleeve, instinctively drawn toward her.

Just as he took a step—his arm was tugged.

"Wilbert... my wound hurts..."

Imogen's tear-glossed eyes clung to him, trembling.

Worry for Solana vanished from his face, replaced instantly by distress for Imogen. He scooped the girl into his arms and strode out without looking back.

...

After several days of rest in the hospital, Solana finally managed to get out of bed.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang. The door was kicked open.

Wilbert stood there, eyes bloodshot, fury seething from him like poison. "Solana! How could you be so vicious?!"

Solana stared at him, completely lost, confusion clouding her face.

On seeing this, Wilbert shoved his phone screen right in front of her.

"You bribed the media to broadcast banners across the entire city—twenty-four hours nonstop—calling Imogen a murderer! Who else would do something this insane?! Do you know she's now so traumatized because of you that her depression has worsened? She doesn't even dare step outside!"

Solana glanced at the screen, her expression flat.

"That wasn't me." But her voice dropped sharply, and a frost settled in her eyes. "Still, every word on that banner is true. Imogen is a murderer. She deserves to pay with her life."

"Shut up!"

Wilbert's face darkened to steel. His hand lifted, ready to strike—but when he saw how pale she was, the slap halted mid-air. His gaze, however, stayed razor-cold.

"Stop spouting nonsense! Imogen didn't mean it. She's been so guilty she hasn't eaten in days! What more do you want?!"

Starving herself?

As if a skipped meal could bring her mother back.

Solana's fists tightened, disbelief flooding her.

Seeing her stay silent, Wilbert cast her a condescending glance, warning blazing in his eyes.

"You will go live right now and clarify that your mother was drunk driving. Say everything had nothing to do with Imogen."

"Or don't expect me to ever look at you again."

His tone held the self-importance of someone offering a divine favor.

"Impossible!"

She wiped her tears away, unwavering resolve blazing beneath them. "You want me to lie for her? I'd rather die."

Her reddened eyes made something inside Wilbert flinch, his fingertips curling involuntarily. But before he could process it, his assistant burst in, breathless.

"Mr. Patel! Miss Turner fainted again!"

Whatever hesitation he had instantly vanished. Chilling indifference swallowed his expression as he looked back at Solana.

"Bring the medicine. Force it down her."

Several bodyguards seized Solana by the arms. Someone grabbed a cup of unknown liquid and shoved it toward her mouth.

"Let go—hmph—!"

Pinned down and unable to fight, Solana could only watch as the liquid burned down her throat.

A searing heat exploded in her chest. Her vision blurred. A feverish wave rolled through her limbs until she could barely stay upright.

The moment her body reacted, Solana understood.

He had given her an aphrodisiac.

As her consciousness swayed, Wilbert gripped her chin, towering over her. "Do you admit you were wrong?"

Even trembling on the edge of collapse, Solana bit down on her lip and forced each word out.

"I... was... not... wrong..."

His patience snapped. Darkness churned in his eyes.

"Very well." His voice turned glacial as he clapped toward the doorway. "Let's see how long you can keep that mouth of yours."

Dozens of filthy vagrants flooded into the room, their eyes crawling over her like greed-soaked fingers.

"What a beauty... skin so soft and pale... You must taste amazing."

"Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll make you feel real good."

As their faces closed in, Solana's heart lurched. She shrank back, trembling. "Get away... don't come near me... don't touch me..."

But the drug surged through her, tearing at her mind. Against her will, her fingers clawed at her own clothes. Painful little sounds slipped from her throat.

This should've been exactly the scene Wilbert wanted—yet something sharp and ugly twisted in his chest at the sight.

He fought the urge to stop everything. His gaze dropped to her like a cold verdict.

"As long as you go live and clear Imogen's name, I'll stop this immediately."

He paused, voice dropping into a threat. "Otherwise, once the drug fully kicks in, your little scandal with these vagrants will dominate every major headline by tomorrow. And your Scott family—well, you know very well what that would do to them."

Each word struck her heart like a hammer, sending pain ricocheting through her chest.

Solana dug her nails deep into her palm, her gaze locking onto him. Then suddenly—she laughed.

Tears spilled down her face, but her laughter was jagged, hysterical.

So this was the man she once loved enough to give up everything for.

So despicable. So vile.

To protect the woman who killed her mother, he would sacrifice her dignity—her entire family's name.

Her lips curled into a scathing smile as she wiped her tears away.

And while Wilbert turned—Solana used every shred of remaining strength.

She lunged and snatched the dagger from a bodyguard's belt—and plunged it straight into her own chest.

With a sharp crack, blood burst out instantly.

Solana's strength drained away and she collapsed to the floor, her complexion whiter than paper.

"Solana!"

Wilbert's pupils shrank violently—terror and panic flooding his eyes in a way she had never seen before.

He lunged forward, scooping her into his arms and sprinting for the door as though chased by death itself.

"Doctor! Save her! You must save her!"

Half-conscious, Solana heard his hoarse, broken voice above her.

She forced her eyes open, breath thin as silk.

"Wilbert... I, Solana Scott... never bow..."

And with that, darkness swallowed her.

...

When she woke again, the first thing she saw was Wilbert sitting beside her bed.

Dark shadows pooled beneath his eyes. He clearly hadn't slept in days.

But Solana felt nothing—no warmth, no relief. Only disgust at how fake it all seemed.

The moment he saw her awake, Wilbert shot to his feet, concern spilling from his expression.

"Does anything hurt? Are you feeling uncomfortable?" He reached out, wanting to check her wound.

Solana jerked her head away, avoiding his touch as if it were poison. "Don't touch me."

The ice in her eyes froze him mid-movement.

A flicker of panic crossed his face—quick, subtle, even he hadn't expected it.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the ringing of his phone cut through the air.

"...Rest first. I'll take this outside."

The moment Wilbert stepped out—Imogen pushed the door open without hesitation, a triumphant glint blazing in her eyes.

"Solana, aren't you always so proud? So noble? Didn't you look down on us 'low-class people' all your life?"

Twisted hatred flashed in her gaze. She grabbed a thick stack of photos and flung them across Solana's face.

"Take a look at yourself. Even the cheapest streetwalker has more dignity than you."

The photos were taken from vicious angles—shots of Solana disheveled, drugged, seemingly throwing herself into the vagrants' arms.

Solana's expression darkened. Her fists clenched so tightly her nails nearly broke skin.

"What are you trying to do?"

Imogen's lips curled, venom dripping from every word.

"Oh? You haven't heard? These photos are everywhere now. The entire internet knows that the almighty Miss Scott—your glorious family's jewel—is actually an easy, filthy slut who even lets beggars touch her."

Solana's knuckles turned bone-white as she gripped the bedsheet, her gaze sharp enough to tear flesh.

"Imogen, I'll kill you."

"Oh? I'm shaking," Imogen mocked, fake fear covering her face.

The fear vanished instantly—replaced with savage jealousy and hatred.

"But will you really? Do you think Wilbert would let you lay a finger on me? He's always on my side. A few tears from me and he drops everything for my sake. And you? You're nothing but a pathetic, unloved joke."

Her voice dipped, twisting darker. "I might as well tell you the truth. I always knew it was your mother in that car. I did it on purpose because I wanted her dead."

Solana felt the world crack open.

"And you don't even know—she tried to call you for help. If I hadn't stabbed her a few more times myself, she might've held on long enough for you to see her alive."

A thunderous roar exploded through Solana's mind.

Rage—pure and absolute—flooded her veins.

Before Imogen could react—Solana grabbed the flower vase beside her and smashed it onto her head.

"I'll kill you!"

Crack!

Shards of porcelain and blood sprayed across the room.

Imogen howled, clutching her bleeding head.

Solana, eyes blazing red, yanked her by the hair and raised the vase again.

But Imogen suddenly laughed—low, poisonous.

"Oh, did I forget to mention? Wilbert knows about all of this. Every detail. And he said as long as I'm happy, I can do whatever I want. He'll clean up after me."

She leaned closer, whispering like a viper coiling around Solana's ear.

"Even those photos? He was the one who released them. And all the past scandals of you being with other men—who do you think helped spread them?"

Her smile widened, drenched in triumph.

"The one who wanted to destroy you... was Wilbert. Your beloved husband."