The biting wind slashed through the air like an unyielding blade, tossing around a sea of fallen leaves. In the abandoned industrial area, on a chaotic street, a frail and delicate woman crawled forward in agony, leaving a bloodstained path in her wake—a stark contrast against the dim surroundings.

“Help me, someone help my baby...” Her lips moved weakly, her voice a mere whisper in the emptiness, unlikely to reach any ears.

The woman pushed onward, her once pristine Victorian-style dress now blackened with dirt. She painfully tilted her head upwards, squinting toward a distant light, but the physical pain and dizziness overwhelmed her. She collapsed onto the cold ground, her cheek pressing against the gas-scented surface. Clutching her abdomen, a horrifying realization dawned on her, sparking panic in her eyes.

“Baby... Don’t leave me. It’s my fault. I didn’t take care of you. Please forgive me... You’re all I have left. If you go too... then I'm truly alone...”

In the distance, the sudden glare of headlights outlined a tall, imposing man standing with his back to the light, staring intently at the vulnerable figure on the ground. His lips were set in a taut line, his face cold, suppressing something.

With a swift punch to the car window, he finally turned away, not sparing her another look. “Lyla, this is your doing.”

“Cameron, I’m exhausted!” said a sophisticated woman in the car, giving him a cold glance. Despite her striking allure, the gray streaks in her hair betrayed her age. She observed the harsh scene with satisfaction, a cold smile touching her lips. This outcome was just what she had wanted.

The man nodded slightly, got back into the car, and drove away without a second thought.

“No... don’t leave... Cameron, please don’t leave... Save our baby. I lied to you; he’s our child. Please, don’t be so heartless...” As the lights dwindled, the woman’s desperate plea turned into a struggle to rise—her last hope, her final request—to keep her child with her.

Yet... why was there no one willing to stand by her?

Collapsed on the ground, her bottled-up pain finally exploded into a scream, “Why... why won’t you let me go...”

Her hands, stained with nearly dried blood, bore witness to a sin too deep to fathom. With the last of her strength, she cried out in the direction where the car disappeared, “If you knew the life you took... was your own child, would you not feel the same heartbreak, Cameron... Why have you shattered me so completely...”

Her sharp cry echoed like a specter in the abandoned factory, calling forth a chilling wind. The woman, unable to resist any longer, succumbed completely like a withered leaf in a silent fall...

Blood continued to seep, yet she had nothing left to grasp onto.

...

Why did you come here, bringing with you a destruction that burned all my happiness to ashes?

I have resented, hated, but in the end, all I am left with is fear.

Now, I am utterly broken! Does this satisfy you?

“Are you really leaving, Lyla? Where will you go after leaving New Haven?” Jude Holmes asked anxiously, holding Lyla Greene’s arm. She had been talking about leaving for days, and he couldn’t stop worrying.

“Anywhere but here!” Lyla gently pulled away from Jude’s grasp, her voice soft yet firm.

Yes, leaving had always been on her mind, only now the urge was stronger than ever.

“Alright, I’ll go with you!” Jude could see he couldn’t change Lyla’s mind. At this point, he wanted nothing more than to be by her side, following his heart.

“No, you can’t!” Lyla wouldn’t allow it. Jude, the beloved grandson of Destiny Holmes, heir to the vast Holmes family fortune, had already sacrificed enough for her. How could she selfishly pull him away from his family?

“Why not, Lyla! Don’t you understand how I feel about you? It doesn’t matter what you say, I’m determined. Wherever you go, I won’t leave you!” It was a simple promise, but from Jude, it sounded firm and unwavering.

“Jude, you know… we can’t have a future together!” Lyla wasn’t heartless. She felt the weight of everything Jude had done for her. But her heart was already shattered and broken; how could she preserve a pure, untarnished love? She couldn’t afford it...

“Why! Why does it have to be this way! Lyla, I know you don’t love me, but I’ll try. I’ll try to make you love me! Why do you keep pushing me away? Don’t you know how much it hurts? I don’t care what others think or say, the only thing I care about is your heart! Why have you locked it away, that man doesn’t deserve someone as wonderful as you, don’t you know?” For the first time, Jude shouted at Lyla, his own outburst surprising him as much as it did her.

Lyla stared, stunned at Jude’s flushed face, shocked that her words could trigger such a reaction.

“I’m sorry, I lost my cool. I just...” Jude raked a hand through his hair in frustration, casting a worried glance at Lyla, fearing he’d angered her. “Lyla, you know how I feel about you. Can you give me a chance?”

Finally baring his feelings, Jude’s face reddened further. He knew Lyla’s answer could wound him deeply, but he refused to surrender the chance to love her.

“Jude... I...” Lyla was at a loss for words in response to this determined man.

“Why are you still here, entangled in this mess? Lyla Greene, after all the trouble you’ve brought, how can you be so calm!” Francis Woods burst in hurriedly, pushing Jude aside and launching into an irate lecture at Lyla.

“Francis, what’s got you worked up, is it the end of the world?” Jude was naturally displeased by Francis’s sudden interruption.

“End of the world? You bet! Lyla, didn’t you say you were leaving? Why haven’t you gone yet? I didn’t realize you could be so ruthless, blinding someone’s eyes! Now the victim is determined to find you and drag you to the depths of hell!” Francis exaggerated, but his point was clear.

“What happened, Francis? What’s going on?” Jude asked, having spent the days tending to Lyla, completely out of touch with the turmoil outside. But from Francis’s words, it seemed deeply connected to Lyla.

“What’s going on? Ask her!” Francis gestured toward Lyla with an expression of defeat. He had been as shocked as anyone upon hearing the news—Lyla being held responsible for Nora James losing her sight seemed utterly implausible.

“Lyla, what happened? Tell me, what happened when you left Cameron’s place?” Jude was on the verge of losing his mind from being kept in the dark.

“I don’t know. I know nothing—I did nothing!” Lyla was ignorant of Nora’s staged drama and even more unaware that in the eyes of the world, she was now branded as a heartless villain.

It was all part of Nora’s scheme, to turn Lyla into a target of public scorn, giving her all the justification for any subsequent actions.

“Really? How could you not know?” Seeing Lyla’s expression, Francis also sensed something was amiss. “Did you not blind Nora’s eyes?”

“What?” Lyla was visibly startled by the revelation, but she soon smiled knowingly. Clearly, Nora had gone to great lengths to ruin her.

“What’s going on, Lyla? What does Nora’s blindness have to do with you, why does Francis say so?” Jude was just as shocked.

“I really wish I had done it!” Lyla’s words were unrestrained; her hatred for Nora clear. Yes, she now wished it had been her doing. Why should Nora have to go through the trouble of hurting herself? If Lyla had known things would turn out this way, she might have fulfilled Nora’s wishes from the start, making her infamy seem justified.

“Enough! When will this end? What will it take for them to leave you alone?” Jude couldn’t believe Lyla was responsible and was all too familiar with Cameron’s unscrupulous methods.

“So, leave quickly, Cameron will eventually find this place. Lyla, if you wish to die, I won’t stop you, but don’t do it here! I want some peace!” Francis's words were devoid of warmth, but were a sincere expression of concern. Cameron was notorious for his ruthless tactics, and there was no predicting what he might do.

“Leave? Maybe a moment ago I’d insist, but now I won’t! If I leave, it would be admitting guilt, branding me a criminal for life!” Lyla saw things clearly—she couldn’t just disappear.

“Lyla!” Jude was surprised by Lyla’s decision; she constantly defied his expectations. “No, this isn’t the time for heroics, you should leave first! You’re in no condition for this!”

“Yes, I’ve got everything ready—here’s a ticket to England, the flight leaves in half an hour. Go, while there’s still time!” It was like planning an escape. Francis hastily handed Lyla a plane ticket. “I’ve arranged everything on the other side. Someone will be there to meet you!”

“When did you get this ready, Francis?” Jude was startled. Francis, the slick operator!

“Enough with the questions, just go!” Francis was most frustrated by unnecessary chatter. Didn’t Jude realize how precious every moment was now? They couldn’t afford to waste time. If Cameron came, it would be too late to leave.

“I’m not leaving!”

Jolie Stone spared no effort, resorting to extreme measures to keep Cameron. Sometimes, a woman’s obsession over love could be downright unsettling. When something isn’t yours, it simply isn’t. Letting go can be a form of release. Why reduce yourself to such a sorry state, why grovel so abjectly? Tragedies often deepen because of unchecked greed—coveting affection and warmth that don’t belong to you.

Jolie was brutal to herself, to the point where witnessing it was unnerving.

Cameron never imagined Jolie would pull the same stunt again. From such a high staircase, she resolutely tumbled down, without hesitation.

“Ah!” It was a cry of agony. This fall rivaled the car accident from five years ago—if it didn’t cripple her, it would certainly break a few ribs.

“Mommy, mommy. Mommy, are you alright?” Yadiel had never seen such a scene before. Jolie had quietly wheeled herself to the top of the stairs after Cameron left, and before he could react, she had already fallen.

Upon hearing the loud crash, Cameron quickly turned back, spotting Jolie in a heap on the ground, her face contorted in pain, struggling for breath.

Cameron knew all too well what had happened. This wasn’t a case of someone else’s malice—he was certain. Jolie was ruthless, both to herself and Cameron. She had orchestrated this publicly, as the so-called Mrs. Carlson, giving her husband an ultimatum of sorts.

Even though he was internally in a frenzy, Cameron had no choice but to act. Yadiel was even tugging on his coat—how could he possibly leave him?

“Jolie, do you think this will hold me back? Fine, I’ll take you to the hospital as you want, but if you keep this up, be prepared for me to make our relationship public!” He leaned down, lifting Jolie, his words sharp. He knew the woman in his arms could hear him clearly.

“Go ahead, try it, Cameron. Don’t think for a second I’m as pliant as that wretch Lyla Greene!” Jolie remained with eyes closed, naturally resting her head against Cameron’s chest, whispering words only they could hear.

In his heart, Cameron wished he could drop her to the ground, but amidst this crowd, he couldn’t act, or at least not openly.

Escaping the watchful eyes of onlookers, Cameron urgently carried Jolie out. To those watching, it seemed as if he deeply cared for Jolie. Only he knew his real urgency was to see that child. Amidst all the turmoil and instability, he feared that just one moment’s delay would prevent him from ever seeing that child...

Those present had no knowledge of this, believing Cameron was excessively concerned for Jolie. In fact, many starry-eyed young women began snapping photos of Cameron on their phones. This event would soon spread across the internet, turning Cameron and Jolie into social media darlings once more.

Jude watched from the stairway as Cameron carried Jolie away!

“Lyla, it seems you’ve discovered Yadiel’s identity! So, were you not even mindful of being made a fool by that woman back then?!” Nora James said coldly, glancing at Lyla and then at Yadiel, a frigid smile on her lips.

“What? What are you talking about?” Lyla seemed to catch a hint from Nora’s words, rising to hold Yadiel’s hand, her face full of confusion.

“Humph, even the child knows. Didn’t you hear Yadiel? He’s grateful I rescued him from the orphanage. As for whose child he is, you should be able to guess!” Nora’s words were icy. She herself harbored little affection for Yadiel. If not for public sentiment, she would never keep him around.

“Whose... could it be…” A thought suddenly struck Lyla as she looked at Yadiel, noticing the resemblance—Yadiel bore a striking similarity to Emerie Adams.

“Indeed, Mrs. Williams, you may take Yadiel for a rest. I need to have a word with this woman!” Nora finally considered Yadiel’s feelings, motioning to Mrs. Williams to take Yadiel away.

“Alright, ma’am, I’ll take Yadiel with me.”

The sweltering summer heat seemed unyielding, and even with the air conditioning on, a fine sheen of sweat clung to Lyla Greene. After a vigorous workout, a charming flush colored her cheeks. Her delicate fingers wrapped around a glass of golden whiskey as she stood by the window.

Her long, wavy hair hung over her shoulders, and her shapely legs were casually crossed. The evening sun cast a perfect glow on her porcelain-like skin, while the sheer white curtains swayed gently with her breath.

As Cameron Carlson emerged from the bathroom, still drying off, he was met with a captivating sight that rekindled a desire he thought had just faded. Even after a year with this woman, whose body he knew better than his own, her presence always stirred something primal within him. This woman, whom he'd deliberately kept close, could effortlessly ignite his deepest desires.

Hearing the noise, Lyla lifted her head, finished her whiskey, and turned with a teasing smile. Before her stood the man she was most intimately acquainted with—her husband in name, Cameron. His strikingly handsome face was so perfectly defined that it was breathtaking.

Lyla flushed as she took in Cameron's tall, lean frame. This man's allure was like a drug, one she couldn't resist. Yet she knew such an exceptional man would never truly be hers. Their relationship was purely transactional, summed up in two words: mutual benefit.

"Why are you hitting the bottle again? You know that's not just water, right?" Cameron quickly moved to Lyla's side, snatching the empty glass from her hand, his face showing clear annoyance. She had a habit of needing a drink after every encounter, and only whiskey would suffice. The alcohol made her seem even more like an irresistible siren, hard to ignore.

"What's the matter? Are you worried about your precious liquor?" Lyla teased, playfully retrieving the glass. She walked to the bed, picked up a white sheet, and with a twirl, wrapped it around herself, transforming the sheet into an elegant makeshift gown that highlighted her perfect curves.

"Concerned? Lyla, after all this time, you still don't get me." A smirk tugged at Cameron's lips, mocking her earlier remark. Indeed, a man without a heart couldn't feel compassion.

"You'd better get ready. Tonight's gala should be quite the spectacle. Aren't you curious to see what your family's been up to after a year?" Cameron casually picked out a light blue shirt and beige trousers from the wardrobe, unabashedly dropping his towel in front of Lyla.

Lyla stopped mid-pour, processing Cameron's words. She lowered the glass, staring at him incredulously as he got dressed. "You're really taking me with you?" she asked, disbelief tinting her voice. For over a year, she'd been confined to this estate, hidden away as if she were invisible, only a wife in name.

"Don't you want to go?" Cameron fastened his cufflinks and turned to face Lyla, whose fingers were nervously intertwined. His expression softened for a moment. She'd stayed by his side for a year, doing all he asked, waiting to reclaim what was rightfully hers.

Hearing her family's name pierced through Lyla's calm demeanor, transforming her into a bristling hedgehog, her eyes filled with deep-seated resentment.

Watching her, Cameron felt an unexpected twinge of sympathy. When she had nowhere else to turn, he'd offered her a deal: She would be his wife for two years in exchange for his help.

~

Back then, Cameron had appeared like a savior before a destitute Lyla on the street, concealed behind large sunglasses. She'd been cast out by her stepmother, left with nothing, and he'd offered her a deal she couldn't refuse.

"I refuse. I don't know you. Why should I marry you, especially when I have nothing left?" Lyla stood on the street, clutching an empty suitcase, despair clouding her gaze.

"Really? You might regret it." Cameron tossed a stack of photos at Lyla and turned to walk away.

Lyla's eyes widened as she stared at the photographs scattered on the ground. They showed her father, Chaim Greene, CEO of Greene Corporation, bound and unconscious, tormented by unidentified medical staff.

That moment shattered Lyla. Her father reduced to such a state meant she had truly lost everything—not even a flicker of hope remained. At twenty-three, holding a doctorate in archaeology, Lyla was still naive about the world. Betrayed by those she trusted, all she could do was flee her family in despair.

But those photos ignited her anger. She could endure betrayal but wouldn't allow anyone to harm her beloved father. Lyla made an unthinkable decision: She abandoned all her principles and got into Cameron's car, becoming someone she hardly recognized.

"Helen has prepped the dress you'll wear tonight. It's in your room. Get yourself ready; I expect you'll shine tonight. I'm looking forward to your performance!" Cameron kissed the top of Lyla's head, snapped his fingers, and left the room.

Watching him leave, Lyla hesitated for a moment. A year had passed with this man, and now he was keeping his promise. Did this mean she was close to freedom? Close to reclaiming everything she had lost? The thought brought a faint smile to her lips. Maybe this time she'd truly get what she wanted.

Wrapped in the sheet, Lyla returned to her room. Though legally married to Cameron, they shared little outside of necessity. They had always slept separately, never spending a night together. Lyla wondered why, if Cameron desired only her body, he insisted on marriage, only to hide her existence. Pushing the thought aside, she stepped into the bathroom. Lyla didn't care about such trivialities. As long as Cameron fulfilled his promise to rescue her father and make those who harmed her pay, she was indifferent to what he took from her over these two years.

Initially skeptical, Lyla had come to trust Cameron’s capabilities over the year. The Greene family's power wasn't easily challenged, yet Cameron seemed capable of the impossible. His ruthlessness was something she'd witnessed firsthand on more than one occasion.

Lyla's stubbornness was a trait she'd inherited but was now resolute in her decision to leave only on her terms, ensuring a clean break from Cameron. However, Francis Woods had different plans.

"This isn't up to you! If you stay and involve innocent people, that's a crime!" Francis exclaimed. Approaching quickly, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to Lyla's face.

Francis’s swift, practiced movement caught Lyla off guard. Her body weakened, vision blurred, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

"Francis, what are you doing?" Jude Holmes gasped in alarm. He quickly took Lyla from Francis, his grip tight.

"You fool! She's determined to stay. Can you stop her? Get her out of here! Cameron's men are closing in. We're no match for him. If you want her back in Cameron's hands, go ahead!" Francis lamented, regretting his involvement in this mess.

"You..." Jude was taken aback by Francis's foresight, casting him an apologetic glance. Truly, compared to Francis, Jude felt immature.

"Enough! If you don't leave now, I'll knock you out too! Hurry! I don't want to see my estate wrecked!" Despite his harsh words, Francis's concern reflected his genuine intentions.

"Thank you, Uncle..." Holding Lyla, Jude solemnly bowed, showing respect usually reserved for rare occasions.

"Jude, make sure you come back!" Watching Jude's retreating figure, Francis felt unease gnawing at him. He couldn't determine if his actions would save or doom Jude.

"If I don't return… please take care of Grandma! She's always worried about you!" Without looking back, Jude spoke softly, his eyes moist with unshed tears.

Lifting his head, Jude suppressed the bitterness, took a deep breath, and vanished with Lyla from the serene courtyard.

Francis stood there, Jude's words resonating deeply, stirring a pang of pain within him…

~

Jude drove swiftly, glancing at Lyla frequently, narrowly avoiding several collisions. Yet, as fate would have it, he ended up in an accident.

A bright red sports car, flashy and audacious, persistently tailed Jude's vehicle. The driver was Emerie Adams. Jude honestly thought this woman was like a persistent ghost.

Emerie had noticed Jude's car by chance. In New York, only a few could afford such luxury, so she took a second glance. That glance was enough to spark chaos.

Lyla sat quietly in the passenger seat, her porcelain-doll-like stillness infuriating Emerie. She tailed them aggressively onto the highway, determined to see what had captivated so many men.

Trailing another car in a jealous frenzy might seem absurd, yet for Emerie, whose mind was warped with bitterness, it was perfectly plausible. She'd even abandoned her own child in an orphanage. What wouldn't she do?

Jude had already noticed Emerie's pursuit, having no time or inclination to deal with her madness. He accelerated, pushing his vehicle forward.

Emerie, however, was relentless. She couldn't let Lyla slip away so easily.

Half-conscious, Lyla felt as though she were adrift at sea, swaying and dizzy, struggling to open her eyes.

"Jude… Holmes!" Lyla was not heavily sedated due to her pregnancy, regaining consciousness after about ten minutes.

Forcing herself awake, Lyla shook her head, recognizing the person and surroundings, startled. "What are you doing? Where are you taking me?"

"Lyla… you're awake?" Jude hadn't expected her to awaken so soon, uneasily glancing at her.

At that moment, Emerie's car rammed them again, relentlessly. Her intentions were clear; she was set on stopping Jude.

The collision startled Jude, who instinctively overcorrected, sending his car toward the highway railing.

"Watch out!" Startled by nearly being thrown from the car, Lyla jolted awake. Seeing Jude's frantic efforts to steer, her heart nearly stopped.

Jude broke into a cold sweat. The car, as if possessed, was out of control, the brakes seemingly failing. They were headed for the railing!

"Damn it!" Jude shouted, slamming the brakes, his body shielding Lyla, determined to protect her at any cost. Luckily, the car stopped just in time.

"Lyla, I'm sorry! Are you alright?" Jude's first instinct was to check on Lyla, concern etched on his face.

"I'm… I'm fine! What about you?" Lyla, though shaken, managed to steady her voice, tucking her hair behind her ear and exhaling deeply.

"I'm okay. Lyla, stay in the car; I'll handle this." Seeing Emerie approach, Jude knew she was targeting Lyla. He wouldn't let this venomous woman hurt her. Locking the windows, Jude prepared to confront Emerie, eager to rid themselves of her menace.

"Jude?" Lyla barely registered what was happening before Jude kissed her forehead and left the car.

The scene played out in perfect tension. Jude couldn't fathom Jolie Stone's audacity. She'd promised to delay Cameron but never imagined such tactics. The moment Cameron departed, Jude followed suit, uneasy about leaving the child with Skyler Lopez.

~

"Jolie Stone, are you satisfied now? Don’t think you'll get away with this! If you want a fight, bring it on. I can make your whole family's life miserable!" Cameron stood by the hospital bed, his face dark with frustration. He'd lost all patience for Jolie. If it weren't for the media waiting outside, he'd already have confronted the child.

"Cameron, you drove me to this. You taught me to be heartless, to show no mercy these past five years!" Jolie retorted, lying on the hospital bed, not sparing him a glance.

"Hmph, I underestimated you, Jolie Stone! What have you gained these five years? Aside from a series of wheelchairs, your life lacks any scenery!" Cameron's words weren't just sarcastic. Further entanglement held no meaning.

"Even if I'm trapped, I'm willing! Cameron, haven't you heard? Loving someone doesn’t require their involvement. It's my concern alone!" Jolie yanked out her IV line, her voice defiant.

"Your concern? If it entails always acting in front of me, how noble is your love?" Cameron couldn't tolerate Jolie's persistence, regretting not exposing her five years ago.

Had he been more ruthless then, disregarded Nora James’s opinion, perhaps his life wouldn't be in disarray. Perhaps he and Lyla might have reconciled, maybe even had a lively child…

But it was too late now, and what he wanted seemed like an elusive fantasy.

"Yes, I'm neither pure nor noble. Cameron, since meeting you, I've been captivated! How could someone who's fallen so low be unblemished?" Jolie’s heart ached. Love's pain, yet unable to hate, kept her tethered to Cameron. She'd always sought possession, yet always failed.

"The car crash five years ago... if I hadn't overheard your appalling words at the hospital, maybe you'd be my wife now. But Jolie, your cunning showed me endless ugliness. I've shattered, needing no broken wife! A woman so cruel to herself can't dream of being loved. Stop your scheming! This is your last chance—leave or... it's over!" Cameron's tone softened. He'd tried not to hurt Jolie but she'd tested his patience too long.

Jolie, panic-stricken, realized Cameron had always known of her deception.

"Aunt... Aunt..." Jolie's voice echoed as she approached, her signature loudness alerting everyone.

The hospital bustled, yet the VIP floor remained serene—home to the wealthy and powerful.

Jolie’s visit was originally to see Nora under the guise of concern, but it was mostly strategic.

Lyla Greene slipped into the Victorian-style dress Cameron Carlson had picked out for her and twirled in front of the mirror, caught off guard by her reflection. She always knew she was beautiful, but this look was different—captivating and mysterious. The semi-sheer black fabric gave her an enigmatic charm, and she felt a flicker of nervousness.

The dress wasn't revealing; in fact, it was quite modest. With its full-length skirt, cinched waist, and a white knitted shawl, it accentuated Lyla's form without showing too much. She was puzzled as to why Cameron had chosen such an old-fashioned, demure gown for the party, especially since he usually preferred her in trendier attire. Yet, she had to admit, the dress did its magic in its own way.

“Seems like I know your figure well,” Cameron noted, his eyes gleaming with appreciation as she descended the staircase. He nodded in approval, satisfied. He didn’t want other men to enjoy the sight of Lyla in something less modest, hence his choice for the evening. Even he was surprised by his growing possessiveness.

“No matter how conservative, your allure can’t be hidden,” he added, pulling Lyla into a warm embrace. Her presence stirred unfamiliar feelings in him.

The sudden embrace made Lyla’s heart flutter. She looked up into Cameron’s intense eyes, feeling her cheeks warm slightly. “Let… let go of me. We’re in the living room!” she exclaimed, trying to wriggle free. But his strong arms only held her tighter.

“How about we skip the party altogether?” Cameron suggested, caressing her styled hair before impulsively kissing her neck. “Mrs. Carlson, you’re irresistible.”

“Cameron, let me go. We’re going to be late!” Lyla protested, his kisses causing a mix of discomfort and excitement, her face flushed.

“Eager, aren't we?” Cameron teased, masking his own conflicted emotions. “Have you forgotten how they humiliated you at your wedding? How your so-called friend walked away with your fiancé, her pregnancy turning into a public scandal?” He tilted her chin up, his eyes clouded with anger. “Tonight is their child’s baptism. Are you really in such a rush?”

“Enough! Stop reminding me of the past,” Lyla pleaded, her heart heavy with the memories. “Please, Cameron, let’s not dwell on it.”

“Not say anything?” Cameron continued, his tone sharp. “A year’s gone by, and you’re still too trusting. I thought you were stronger now. If you can’t handle this, how will you reclaim what’s yours?”

“I know what I’m doing,” Lyla said, her fists clenched, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I haven’t forgotten how I ended up here, and those who hurt me will face the consequences.”

“Good. Accepting reality is the first step,” Cameron replied, releasing her and stepping back. “But remember, you also have to understand your current role.”

“My role?” Lyla repeated, perplexed. “I’ve been cut off. After the wedding fiasco, my father got seriously ill, and my stepmother and uncle took everything. You know that.”

“I know. That’s why you’re no longer Lyla Greene. Until you take back your place, there's no Lyla Greene in this world.” Cameron glanced at his own wedding ring, lost in thought. “You need a new identity.”

“A new identity? What identity?” Lyla asked, baffled by Cameron’s intentions.

“You’re my wife. At the party, being Mrs. Carlson will have much more clout than being Lyla Greene.” Cameron smiled, a hint of coldness in his expression, as he caressed her face.

“You…” Lyla was confused. Cameron had never publicly acknowledged their relationship. Who would believe she was Mrs. Carlson?

“Don’t worry. I’ve always said you’re special. Tonight, everyone will know who you are.” He deliberately brushed her ring finger before leading her out.

“What do you mean?” Lyla asked, uneasy. She had a strong feeling something significant was about to happen.

“Nothing really. You’ll see soon enough,” Cameron replied, dismissing her concerns as he opened the car door and settled into the driver’s seat.

Lyla shook her head, exhaling slowly before getting into the car. Despite spending a year with him, Cameron remained a mystery to her.

Meanwhile, Jude Holmes was face to face with Emerie Adams by his flashy sports car on a bridge, visibly upset. Lyla, trapped inside the car, could only watch through the window as Jude gestured wildly during what looked like a heated argument with Emerie.

“Why is she here?” Lyla wondered, surprised but not entirely shocked by Emerie's presence. Her life had become a string of unexpected events.

“Emerie, say what you want. If you’re here to harm Lyla, I won’t let you get near her. You’ll regret it,” Jude warned, his tone unusually fierce.

Emerie laughed mockingly. “Oh please, with your family’s name, do you think you’re untouchable? Or maybe you want to stage a dramatic showdown with her?” she taunted, trying to push past Jude towards Lyla.

“We don’t have time for this, Emerie. Step back now!” Jude said, grabbing Emerie and shoving her away.

“Oh, Jude. Since when did you become so ruthless? Or do I need to remind you how to treat a lady?” Emerie flirted shamelessly, reaching to brush Jude’s chest.

“Get off me, you vile woman!” Jude shouted, warning her. “If you keep this up, I won’t mind tossing you and your car off this bridge!”

“Go ahead, Jude. I’m not scared. I’ll call Cameron right now, and we’ll see who ends up worse!” Emerie threatened, her face twisted in anger as she pulled out her phone.

Jude didn’t expect her audacity. There was barely any time before Lyla needed to leave for the airport, and he couldn’t afford delays.

“Give it to me!” he demanded, trying to snatch the phone.

“No way, Jude. Call him! Let’s see him deal with your precious Lyla,” Emerie smirked, keeping the phone out of reach.

“You witch!” Unrestrained, Jude lunged for her arm to seize the phone.

But in their struggle, they forgot they were on a bridge with traffic rushing by. A single misstep could be fatal.

“Watch out!” Jude shouted too late.

Emerie never imagined her malicious plans would lead to this. Focused on her phone, she didn’t notice the oncoming truck.

The crash was swift. Emerie’s body was hurled through the air before hitting the ground hard. The terrifying moment lasted seconds but felt like an eternity.

Emerie lay in a pool of blood, her body spasming in a final struggle. The truck driver, shaken, hurried out, glancing at Jude before checking Emerie’s pulse.

Jude stood frozen, mind blank. Though he didn’t need to check, he knew Emerie wouldn’t make it.

Lyla, having witnessed everything, was pounding on the car window. “Emerie! Emerie!” she cried, tears flowing freely.

“Open the door! Let me out!” she shouted, but Jude was immobilized, incapable of movement.

Shock had paralyzed Jude—his own guilt weighing heavily. He was, in part, responsible for Emerie’s fate.

Finally, Jude turned to see Lyla’s tear-streaked face and made a decision. “Lyla, something’s happened. Listen, I’m taking you to the airport. You can’t stay here,” Jude said, his usual gentle tone now replaced by urgency and a hint of desperation.

“Let me out! Emerie’s hurt; I have to help her!” Lyla insisted, ignoring Jude’s warning.

“Lyla, Emerie’s gone! There’s nothing you can do!” Jude’s voice broke, eyes brimming with grief and guilt.

Jude arrived at Skyler Lopez’s estate just as Lyla was stepping out. She had no idea Cameron was already aware of Keily’s existence and appeared calm.

After settling Keily for a nap, she decided to return to Jude, but found her way blocked by him.

“Lyla, where’s Keily?” Jude asked, holding her arm with urgency.

“He’s asleep. It’s been a long flight. Jude, what’s wrong? Why are you so frantic?” Lyla asked, puzzled by his demeanor.

“Lyla, listen. Don’t panic, but it’s possible Cameron knows about Keily,” Jude began hesitantly, unsure whether to share the news.

“What? How could he know?” Lyla’s heart raced, disbelief coloring her voice.

“It’s likely he’s been tailing you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have known. We have to leave with Keily before he has a chance to confirm it,” Jude advised, urgency in his tone.

“I’m not panicking!” Lyla insisted, though clearly shaken. “But if he finds out, do you think he’ll let go easily? How did he find out, Jude? Explain!”

“Maybe he’s been tailing you,” Jude suggested, trying to calm her. “But we have to act fast.”

Lyla’s world was spinning. If Cameron discovered the truth about Keily, she knew he’d recognize his own child in him.

Meanwhile, Nora James’s fainting spell, stirred by Jolie Stone’s antics, became the talk of the town. Nora, a public figure, found herself in fresh scandal thanks to Jolie’s media stunt. The incident turned Lyla into a laughingstock, with rumors spreading that her jealousy had driven Nora to the hospital.

Even as Lyla sat in Nora’s hospital room, tabloids painted her as a villainous homewrecker. Yet she knew in her heart that wasn’t the truth. What she wanted was not revenge on Nora—it was answers.

“Ma’am, don’t worry about it. That woman always makes a fuss over nothing. Don’t stoop to her level,” the housekeeper urged, trying to comfort Lyla. She secretly hoped Lyla and Cameron would reconcile, having seen their undeniable connection.

“You’re overthinking it,” Lyla replied, setting the papers aside. “Go check if she’s awake yet. She should be by now.”

“I’ll go see if she’s awake. Here, have some coffee to keep you going,” the housekeeper said, handing Lyla a thermos.

“Madam, she’s awake!” the housekeeper announced shortly after.

“Is she?” Lyla stood and headed toward the room. “Have you called the doctor?”

“Yes, they’re on their way,” the housekeeper replied, following Lyla. “But she doesn’t seem fully coherent.”

Lyla stood by Nora’s bedside, watching her lips move faintly.

“The doctor will be here soon. Don’t worry, I won’t harm you now. Unlike you, I know right from wrong,” Lyla assured, noting Nora’s frightened expression.

“No… I…” Nora struggled to speak, bound by some unseen force.

“What?” Lyla leaned in closer to hear Nora’s whispers, despite their strained relationship.

“Something…” Nora tried, her voice weak, but her urgency clear.

“Let’s wait for the doctor, then we can talk,” Lyla said, stepping back as the doctor entered.

The doctor conducted a brief examination before gesturing for Lyla to step outside.

“Is it serious?” Lyla asked once they were outside.

“The patient shows signs of a cerebral hemorrhage. We need to prepare for surgery immediately,” the doctor informed her, jotting notes on a chart.

“Then proceed with the surgery,” Lyla instructed without hesitation.

“The risks are significant. Are you her family?” the doctor questioned, skeptical of her authority.

“I’m aware you’re not,” he added, implying Lyla’s involvement was unwelcome.

The doctor’s insinuations and dismissive remarks stung, but Lyla remained composed. Her immediate concern was Nora’s health, despite their past. Her thoughts lingered on how to reach the person who might help resolve this.