In the guest room, I took our photo out of the frame, ready to tear it up.

Just then, Carl opened the door, his voice showing a hint of annoyance. “Camelia, we need to talk.”

Before he finished, his eyes landed on the photo I was about to tear, suddenly cold. “What are you doing?!” He grabbed the photo.

I didn’t look up or respond, just kept tidying in silence. When he saw I ignored him, he slammed the photo on the table. “Jocelyn’s wrist injury has reopened and she’s emotionally unstable. Go comfort her with some kind words.”

I almost thought I heard wrong. I slowly lifted my head and looked at the man I had loved for ten years.

He wanted me to comfort the woman who caused my mother’s death and exposed his perjury scandal, leaving my father in the ICU?

A heavy ache pressed on my chest, but I forced a weak smile. “Impossible.”

His face darkened and his usual commanding tone returned. “Camelia, don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Carl,” I said calmly, as if stating a fact, “She’s your savior, not mine. I have no reason, or desire, to care about a murderer’s feelings.”

“You!” Anger flashed in his eyes, but he held it back and pulled a small brocade box from his pocket, giving it to me.

I recognized the box. Inside was a custom necklace with a pendant shaped like intertwined stars and a moon.

On our first anniversary, he put it on my finger, saying it symbolized our inseparable love. He said that wearing it meant he would always be by my side, protecting me.

I treasured it for ten years, never taking it off. After my mother’s accident, in despair, I tore it off and put it away.

“I’ve fixed the necklace,” he said, his tone soft but slightly condescending. “Go apologize to Jocelyn, say you’ll try to forgive her and I’ll act like nothing happened before.”

I looked at the necklace that once symbolized his love, now used to make me obey my enemy. I felt a deep mix of pain and absurdity.

I looked at him and smiled. I reached for the brocade box, my fingers icy cold.

Carl’s eyes showed a satisfied smile, thinking everything was back on track. But I didn’t wear the necklace. I took it and walked straight to the door.

Jocelyn leaned weakly against the doorframe, looking pitiful. In Carl’s shocked gaze, I put the brocade box in her hand. “You always wanted this necklace, right? It’s yours now,” I said flatly.

Jocelyn froze, staring at me in disbelief. Carl’s face tightened. He knew how much I treasured this necklace; ten years of gifts hadn’t replaced it.

He expected me to struggle or refuse, but he never thought I’d give away this “eternal love” so easily. Losing control made him furious.

“Camelia!” he snapped. “You always said this necklace was your most precious possession! Why did you give it away so easily?”

I lifted my head, met his gaze calmly and replied, “You asked me to give it to her. I did and now you’re upset?”

My teasing made him pause. After speaking, I stopped looking at them and went back to my room.

***

Early the next morning, Carl opened the door again, his tone calm but still commanding, as if last night’s conflict never happened.

“Come downstairs and eat. Jocelyn is hurt, but she got up early to make seafood porridge for you to apologize and help you recover.”

“I’m not hungry,” I said coldly, turning my back to him.

“You have to go, even if you’re not hungry!” His tone hardened. “Jocelyn was kind to you. Are you going to embarrass her? Do you think our Wagner Family can’t handle this?”

He only cared about Jocelyn’s feelings and the family’s appearance. In the end, he forced me to go to the dining room.

I finally went downstairs. In the dining room, Jocelyn was already sitting at the head of the table—my usual seat.

Seeing me, Jocelyn smiled softly. “Camelia, you’re here? I heard you haven’t been eating much, so I made some fresh seafood porridge. Would you like to try it?”

The bowl of porridge was set before me, smelling strongly of shrimp and crab. Carl sat in the main seat and gestured to me. “Jocelyn worked all morning. Don’t waste her effort.”

I looked at the porridge but didn’t touch it. I’m severely allergic to seafood, something I told him early in our relationship.

Once, I accidentally ate a snack with shrimp powder and got a full-body rash. He took me to the hospital that night and stayed with me all night.

I clearly remembered how anxious he looked back then. Now, just a few years later, he seemed to have forgotten, or his focus had simply moved away from me.

“What?” Carl frowned when I didn’t move. “Jocelyn cooked it herself and you won’t even show her this little respect?”

Jocelyn immediately looked down, her voice upset. “Carl, don’t force Camelia. Maybe I didn’t cook well and she doesn’t like it…”

Carl’s face darkened, his eyes showing clear displeasure. “Camelia, don’t be so stubborn!”

Stubborn? Seeing his impatient face, my heart turned cold. I looked up at him, calm and emotionless. “I’ll drink it, but let me go see my dad at the hospital today.”

Carl instinctively wanted to refuse, frowning. Jocelyn had told him before that my dad needed complete rest and shouldn’t be visited.

But when my stubborn, empty gaze met his, he swallowed and finally said stiffly, “Okay, I’ll arrange it.”

After getting the promise, I didn’t hesitate. I picked up the porridge and forced myself to eat it.

Soon, my skin started itching and red rashes appeared. If Carl cared at all, he would have noticed.

But he was only focused on feeding Jocelyn. At that moment, the gap between love and indifference felt so cruel.

Back in the guest room, the allergy hit hard. Red rashes spread, itching badly and I struggled to breathe.

I knew I had to take medicine immediately, or it could get serious. I forced myself up to find my allergy medicine in the master bedroom.

I stumbled to the master bedroom and opened the door, only to see Jocelyn by the window holding the medicine.

Seeing me like that, she didn’t look surprised, just gave a cruel, mocking smile.

“Oh, looking for this?” She waved the medicine box and, to my horror, poured all the pills out the window. They disappeared into the grass below.

“You’re disgusting,” she said mockingly, clapping her hands. “Carl is mine and you and your weak father should leave!”

I almost lunged at her, trembling from the allergy and pure hatred.

Jocelyn calmly grabbed her phone, opened some photos and showed them to me.

The photos showed my father in the ICU, pale and with bluish lips. His nasal tube was crooked, the IV bag empty and he seemed untreated.

“The old man’s barely holding on,” she said cruelly. “Wouldn’t it be easier if he just pulled out the tube?”

My mind went blank. I couldn’t hear anything else. I rushed over, grabbed her by the neck and pinned her to the wall. “Jocelyn, if you touch my dad, I’ll kill you!”

She didn’t resist and even smiled, but then she screamed, “Camelia, what are you doing? Let me go! Carl, help me!”

She broke free, stumbled out of the room and a scream was followed by a heavy thud on the stairs. I stood there, breathing hard, my hands shaking.

“Jocelyn!” Carl called from downstairs, running up quickly. He saw Jocelyn at the corner of the stairs, holding her ankle and crying.

He looked at me with cold eyes. “Camelia, will you ever stop?!”

I thrust my phone at him. “What happened to my dad at the hospital?! You promised to save him!”

Carl looked at the photo, frowning and confused. He had arranged for doctors to stay with my dad all night and the medicine was being given. How did this happen?

“Carl,” Jocelyn suddenly clung to him, trembling and crying. “That’s a photo of Uncle Rowan when he first arrived at the hospital. I kept it to show the doctors, but Camelia saw it, got furious, hit me and accused me of hurting Uncle…”

Hearing this, Carl’s confusion disappeared and turned into complete disgust. “You’ve lost your mind,” he said firmly, pulling his hand away. “I’ll have someone take you to a mental hospital tomorrow.”

He quickly grabbed his phone and called his assistant. “Send a message saying Madam is mentally unstable and needs to be hospitalized.”

At that moment, Jocelyn softly tugged his sleeve. “Carl, sending her to a mental hospital is too harsh. I know a doctor who can give her effective ECT treatment at home.”

Electroconvulsive therapy?! I stared at Carl. “Don’t listen to her! She wants me dead!”

He looked at me like I was a naive child. “Jocelyn only cares about you. Why are you so ungrateful?”

Ungrateful. The word hit me like an ice pick. Knowing arguing was pointless, I stopped and ran to the door. But Carl was quicker, grabbing my wrist so hard it nearly broke it.

“Let me go!” I shouted, struggling and clawing at his arm, leaving red marks.

“Hold her!” Carl growled at the servants, who came running.

Several people surrounded me. I kicked and struggled, but they overpowered me, twisted my arm and pinned me down.

In the next moment, my wrists and ankles were tied tightly, leaving me unable to move. I looked at Carl, full of anger and despair. “Carl, you’ll regret this!”

He just turned his head away, cold and indifferent, as if it didn’t concern him.