I finally learned to surrender after Phoebe Watson imprisoned me in the mental hospital for three years.

That day, she arrived to pick me up with her bump sticking out, accompanied by her young lover.

I naturally took the bag from the young man's hand and considerately opened the car door for her.

"From now on, you'll be responsible for taking care of Jose and me. Both he and the baby are your family now," Phoebe said.

I nodded obediently.

Unbelievable. After driving my parents to their deaths, she kindly gifted me two new "family members."

Once home, I got up at five every day to study pregnancy recipes. At eight, I woke Phoebe on time and accompanied her to prenatal yoga classes. By ten, I had snacks and tea ready, listening as she and her lady friends praised me for being such a considerate and useful lackey.

——

Day after day, this continued until Phoebe gave birth.

On the day they put up the new family photo, she stared at the intimate trio in the picture, her voice trembling. "Hans, why didn't you insist on being in the photo?"

Insist? In the mental hospital, I only learned to be obedient and how to turn others into the mentally ill.

Hearing her question clearly, I calmly finished wringing out the cloth in my hands. "Madam, I don't like taking photos."

Phoebe frowned. Her gaze fixed intently on me as if trying to see whether I lied or not while I quietly wiped the dust off the family photo, adjusting the frame little by little until it was perfectly still.

Jose stood on the stairs, a hint of smugness flashing in his eyes. He walked over, scooped Phoebe up in his arms and kissed her deeply on the lips.

"You're back!" he exclaimed. "I tried putting the baby to sleep myself today and I actually succeeded."

Phoebe glanced at me instinctively.

I nodded, the corners of my mouth lifting into a sincere smile of praise. "Mr. Levine is indeed amazing. He effortlessly lulled the baby to sleep."

I could see Phoebe's frown deepen, but I had no time to play word games with her because the nourishing soup for her was simmering on the stove.

I hurried into the kitchen, slipped on heat-resistant gloves and carefully carried the soup out.

Jose sat at the dining table. His hand was squeezing Phoebe's soft breasts as he chuckled softly. "I'm jealous. Why has the baby been monopolizing this area for the past few days? You'll have to make it up to me tonight."

Phoebe giggled, but her laughter died the instant she saw me.

I carefully ladled the nourishing soup into her bowl, letting it cool thoughtfully.

At the same time, Jose smiled gently at me. "You should sit down and eat, too."

Phoebe also pulled out a chair for me and nodded softly. "Taking care of the child is tiring. You should rest."

I lowered my gaze and declined with a smile. "It's my honor to help Madam look after the baby. I'm not tired at all."

My answer made Jose's lips curve in satisfaction. His eyes now flashed with a contempt impossible to ignore.

I stood obediently by the dining table, remembering the last time Jose saw Phoebe holding my hand. He had deliberately claimed the soup was too salty that day.

That man eventually punished me by making me kneel in the courtyard under the scorching sun until deep into the night. My knees ended up scraped raw and my whole body was covered in peeling skin.

I knew he tried to warn me that Phoebe was not someone I could even dream of.

After the meal, Jose pushed the leftover scraps from the soup bowl towards me. I didn't understand his meaning, so I poured the scraps into the trash can as usual.

But Jose suddenly raised his voice, glancing meaningfully at Phoebe. "Hans, if you don't like it, you can tell me. I know you didn't get to eat well in the mental hospital, so I specially saved the mushroom from the soup for you. That's top-grade mushroom. How could you waste my good intentions like that?"

Phoebe, who was holding the baby, looked over, her brow slightly furrowed.

I immediately bent down in a panic, retrieved the soiled mushroom from the trash can and shoved it into my mouth without hesitation.

"Thank you for your generous reward, Sir," I said.

Phoebe hurried over, worry flooding her eyes. Completely ignoring the child in her arms, she reached a hand to my mouth. "Spit it out, quickly!"

Acid churned in my stomach. Fighting the overwhelming urge to vomit, I forced myself to swallow it down and smiled gratefully at Jose.

Phoebe's eyes widened, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

She knew better than anyone that I used to suffer from extreme mysophobia—I refused to touch anything that had been touched by someone else. That was why I didn't hesitate to file for divorce when I discovered Phoebe was having an affair.

However, she refused to let go.

In a short time, she orchestrated a car accident that killed my parents and took over the company. My parents were buried hastily and the very next day, Phoebe brought Jose right into our home.

Consumed by hatred, I grabbed a knife to stab that despicable couple.

Yet the moment I accidentally cut Jose just a little, Phoebe bribed a doctor to diagnose me as mentally unstable. She had me sent to a mental hospital for torment, forcing me to learn obedience.

Meanwhile, she and Jose shamelessly enjoyed the vast fortune and connections my parents had spent their entire lives building.

My fingers trembled violently as I took the gasping child from her. "Sshh, shhh. Don't cry, baby."

My gentle soothing was effective. The child, exhausted from crying, fell into a deep sleep in my arms.

Phoebe looked at me, as if wanting to say something, but she held back. I avoided her gaze and carried the child back to the nursery.

A sliver of light seeped through the door crack.

Jose scoffed, swirling his wine glass and disdainfully tossed me a bottle of disinfectant. "Eating things out of a garbage can is too filthy. Hans, you must maintain hygiene, or I won't dare to use you."

I picked up the disinfectant at my feet and bent to thank him gratefully. "Thank you, Sir."

Still, Jose showed no sign of leaving. Instead, his gaze was intensely fixed on me.

I understood immediately and nodded, turning to the nanny's room to pour the entire bottle of disinfectant into the bathtub. I stripped off all my clothes and scrubbed myself vigorously with a steel wool pad.

My skin instantly bled and the entire bathtub was filled with a gruesome mixture of blood and water.

As the disinfectant soaked into my skin, I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from letting out a single cry of pain. My entire body felt like it was being stung by countless bees, pricked by a million tiny needles.

Just as I became overwhelmed by the pain and was about to pass out, Jose mercifully spoke. "Get dressed after you've washed yourself clean. I'll take you to a nice place."

I didn't have time to tend to the bleeding wounds, so I hastily threw on some clothes and followed Jose out.

Phoebe stood leaning against the staircase, frowning and her tone was full of sympathy. "Don't pick things out of the trash can next time. As long as you're good, no one will punish you, Hans."

Before she married me, Phoebe was just a junior employee at the company.

Back then, while she was pursuing me, she learned about my sensitive stomach and spent half a year's salary on a nutrition course. She would show up with fresh Band-Aids on her fingers every day, yet the thoughtful lunch box she delivered to my office never once stopped coming.

Even after we were married, the stomach-soothing lunch boxes continued. No matter how late I worked, there was always a wisp of steam in the kitchen.

"Hans, if you like it, I'll make you a lovingly prepared lunch box for the rest of my life," she said.

The sound of keys jangling snapped me back to the present. Jose stood in the living room, impatience flickering in his eyes. "Hans, it's time to leave."

I politely nodded to Phoebe, gesturing for her to move aside. But instead of letting go, her brows furrowed even deeper as she gripped my wrist tightly. "Hans, you weren't like this before."

Before?

Did she mean after marriage, when I treated her with genuine affection, promoted her to Vice President, handed over all my high-level authority and confidential files to her? Or when I gradually told her all my weaknesses and sore spots?

We once spent a loving night wrapped in each other's warmth, looking forward to having an adorable baby someday.

At that time, I always thought I'd be the best father in the world. Alas, those days were now gone forever.

Later, Jose walked upstairs in his leather shoes.

Before Phoebe could pull me into her arms, he interlocked his fingers with hers. "Phoebe, why don't you drive us there? You've been home these days, you must be bored."

Phoebe nodded and I instinctively gave up the front passenger seat.

As the scenery outside the window changed, my heart suddenly clenched. This road … wasn't it the way to the cemetery?

Before the car even came to a full stop, I yanked the door open and rushed out.

The once crowded rows of tombstones were gone, replaced by fields of crops. A worker nearby was watering them with a hose.

I stumbled forward, my throat hoarse and aching. "Excuse me, isn't this supposed to be a cemetery? How did it change like this? Where did the people buried here go?"

The man frowned in confusion, then his brow relaxed as he pointed to a small hill not far away. "This used to be a cemetery, but the Watsons surveyed the land and found the geological conditions were good, so they used it to grow mushrooms."

A girl weeding nearby looked up, her eyes full of envy. "Yeah, I heard it's because Mrs. Watson's lover is in poor health, so she spent a fortune to buy this land for him."

In the distance, Phoebe guiltily looked away.

Jose kindly reminded me, "Don't worry. I was afraid you wouldn't be able to find your parents' ashes, so I specifically had them placed at the top of the hill."

My mind went completely blank and my legs felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead.

I ran towards the hill without looking back, but then it started to rain heavily out of nowhere. The raindrops stung my skin and I collapsed to my knees in the mud, exhausted.

The entire mountainside was buried under shattered gravestones, the names worn down and impossible to read.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the faint letters Garrison. I dropped to my knees and frantically clawed at the sharp, broken stones.

Excruciating pain shot through my fingers as every wound on my body burst open, followed by a bone-deep agony spread within me.

I cried until my voice was hoarse and my vision blurred. "I'm sorry … I'm sorry, Mom and Dad. It's all my fault. I never knew people's true nature."

The rain intensified and a thick fog began to rise in the mountains.

Soon, Phoebe's worried voice drifted from behind me. "Hans, where are you?"

Unfortunately, Jose found me first. His hidden malice surfaced clearly in his eyes.

That man's sharp fingernails dug into my wound. Then, he viciously gripped my neck and shook me violently. "Hans, why on earth did you come back? If you just died, Phoebe would only have eyes and heart for me."

I couldn't breathe and I was dragged to the edge of the slope like a dead dog.

In my blurry vision, I saw Phoebe getting closer.

At the same time, Jose whispered provocatively in my ear. "Hans, guess who she'll choose this time?"

Before I could react, he wrapped his arms around me and we tumbled down the slope. He held me down tightly, flipping over me upon impact to use me as a human cushion.

Excruciating pain exploded from my shoulder blade. I managed to look down and saw a branch as thick as my wrist piercing straight through my shoulder.

The taste of blood immediately filled my mouth.

In my hazy consciousness, I saw Phoebe tenderly pulling Jose into her arms. She gently wiped the dust off him like a child.

Just like before, when the earthquake struck, she still chose Jose without hesitation.

On the other side, I was left forgotten in the rubble. My legs were now pinned under a massive stone and I was nearly losing my limbs and becoming crippled.

Tears mixed with rain streamed down my face. My voice was broken and raspy. "It hurts … so much … "

Finally, Phoebe's gaze fell upon me.

Just as she took a step forward, Jose fainted weakly in her arms, clutching her little finger and grimacing in distress.