A week before their anniversary, Sydney prepared a surprise for her husband, Preston Rockefeller.

At the same time, she discovered that Preston had also booked a penthouse suite at a five-star hotel, complete with a drone show and fireworks. She was certain it was meant as a surprise for their anniversary, and her heart filled with joy.

Sydney clutched the pregnancy test stick, her heart brimming with anticipation.

However, on the day of their anniversary, she dressed up carefully early in the morning and waited for Preston’s invitation.

But she waited all day, and nothing came. Instead, she spotted a familiar figure on Savannah’s Instagram post.

Savannah, wearing a shy expression, nestled in a man’s arms. Only half of his face was visible—but Sydney instantly recognized him as Preston.

Caption: Thank you, husband, for the anniversary surprise. I love it~

Sydney’s blood froze.

How… could this be possible?!

Five years ago, Preston had been in a car accident so bad he slipped into a coma. At the worst possible moment, Savannah ran off abroad, dodging their supposed arranged marriage. That’s when the Adelsons brought Sydney back—the real heiress—to take Savannah’s place and marry Preston.

After the wedding, she took care of him like a devoted wife. Slowly, painstakingly, he recovered. In turn, he promised her that from then on, he’d be loyal to her.

Though cold and reserved, he had always treated her with unwavering respect.

Knowing she loved flowers, he had bought her an entire rose estate so she could wake up every day to almost a hundred freshly picked blooms.

When she had been mocked as a country bumpkin, he had spent twenty-eight million on an antique ring and knelt to place it on her hand, defending her honor.

When she had been trapped in a car accident, gasoline leaking everywhere, he had thrown caution to the wind, pried open the car door with his bare hands, and even as all ten fingers were shredded, he had saved her life.

Everyone had said Sydney was lucky; she had a devoted and wealthy husband. She had believed it, too.

She had never doubted that he would stay faithful. Yet now… she rushed to the hotel lobby, her heart hammering.

Her phone buzzed mid-step.

A contact that had been inactive for five years flashed a message she most feared.

[Your husband’s cheating on you.]

Attached was a video.

The moment Sydney tapped play, the world spun out of control. Indeed, her husband was making out with another woman—Savannah.

The Preston Sydney knew was never like this—never lost control like that. Yet on the video, there was hunger in his eyes, his hands crawling all over Savannah’s naked body.

The affair drained Sydney’s face of color. Her hands trembled beyond her control, the phone threatening to fall. She felt dizzy, as if a big hand gripped her heart.

The man in the video was both familiar and strange.

Preston was always gentle and restrained with her, never showing such a loss of control.

She didn’t know how she ended up standing outside the penthouse suite door.

The door wasn’t closed tightly. She immediately saw the old couple completely naked and embracing on the couch. Soon, the last string in Sydney’s mind just snapped.

In between panting, Savannah’s voice cut through.

“Honey… thanks to you tricking Sydney into signing the heart transfer, our son got the transplant. Poor Julien didn’t make it. Sydney didn’t throw a fit, right?”

What the hell did she just say?!

Sydney’s fists clenched so tightly her nails tore into her palms. Her ears rang. She couldn’t believe those words.

The next second, the familiar voice of his husband followed.

“She will never know that Julien’s heart went to Chicago,” he reassured Savannah.

Savannah giggled. “I knew you loved me and Chicago the most. Today’s our third anniversary since we registered our marriage. You’re not going anywhere…”

Sydney bit her lips. Tears wet her face, her complexion pale as paper.

His words were like a sharp blade dipped in arsenic, stirring violently in her heart, shredding flesh and bone, causing her whole body to tremble in pain.

The enormous shock and pain overwhelmed her like a tornado.

Julien was also his son! How could he bear to watch him die?!

Three years ago, their son was born with congenital heart disease. The doctor said that without a heart transplant, he wouldn’t live past three.

She waited so long. Finally, before Julien’s third birthday, a suitable heart appeared, but the hospital suddenly canceled the transplant an hour before surgery. The poor boy could only die on the cold operating table.

They said the donor changed their mind. Sydney was in pain but could only accept it.

Now, she just heard that Preston gave the heart to Savannah’s son. How could Sydney accept it?!

Savannah’s son only had arrhythmia and didn’t need a heart transplant. Sydney’s son, without that heart, could only die on the cold operating table!

Her nails dug into her flesh, blood dripping from her fingertips, yet she felt no pain.

Her body seemed torn apart. The hotel had the air conditioning on, but she felt freezing all over.

Just then, the memories of the past three years surged up.

No wonder. No wonder Preston had abandoned her and Julien for overseas business trips, sometimes lasting weeks. Chicago—Savannah’s child—was actually Preston’s son!

When did it start?

The first time—when she had given birth to Julien and hemorrhaged. The situation was critical and needed a family member’s consent. The hospital called Preston, but he hadn’t answered. She gritted her teeth and signed the consent form herself, and only then did the hospital operate on her.

The second time—Julien’s birthday, and they had planned to go to an amusement park together as a family of three. She waited all evening with Julien, who cried himself to sleep. Preston never showed.

The third time—Julien suffered a sudden cardiac arrest. Sydney had called frantically outside the operating room. But Preston’s assistant just gave a brutal response.

“Mr. Rockefeller is in a meeting. Handle it yourself.”

She had always excused Preston’s absences, thinking he was just busy with work.

It turned out that every single time, he had been with Savannah and their child!

Sydney’s lips split, and blood filled her mouth. Her chest ached so fiercely she could barely breathe.

Her own husband had actually tricked her into signing the heart transfer agreement—forcing her to give up Julien’s only chance at life. How could Preston be so fucking cruel?

The intimate sounds continued in the video. Her stomach turned violently. She felt sick to her core.

The man she had loved for three years had killed her son.

Sydney’s resolve hardened. She dialed a number she had not contacted in five years.

“Brooks, fine, let’s get married. Come for me in a week. I’ll handle the divorce.”

A deep and familiar voice came from the phone.

“Finally, Sydney, you see it clearly. Preston doesn’t deserve you. Come back ASAP. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Sydney nose stung. She swallowed back a sob, explaining, “He killed Julien. I want Preston to pay for that!”

On the other end, Brooks Stryker’s voice carried a cold edge.

“Anyone who harms the Strykers will regret it,” he swore.

After hanging up, Sydney’s eyes hardened.

She would leave Preston for good!

The Strykers weren't just a wealthy family. They were the most mysterious top-tier tycoons in the capital, controlling the country’s entire economy.

Sydney lifted her hand to caress her lower belly. The surprise she had planned for Preston no longer felt necessary—after today, there was nothing left to tell him.

She turned and walked toward the cemetery.

Today was Julien’s birthday. Alone, Sydney knelt in front of her son’s grave.

The tombstone was cold and bare, not a single flower laid there. Preston hadn’t even glanced at his son once.

The night air was chilling, but not nearly as cold as the hollow ache in Sydney’s chest.

‘My baby… You could have survived if only your father hadn’t given your heart to Chicago instead,’ she thought, her chest aching and suffocating her.

She failed to protect him, and she blamed herself for that.

Her fingers trembled as they brushed over Julien’s face etched into stone. “My baby… those who hurt you—they’ll get what they deserve…” she promised through clenched teeth.

Exhausted, she dragged herself home. But when she pushed open the door, the scene that greeted her ripped her chest apart—Preston and Savannah were celebrating Chicago’s birthday.

The table was laden with food, a cake pristine and sweet, and the three of them wore smiles that seemed to mock her grief.

Preston’s long, elegant fingers shelled lobster one by one, carefully placing the meat on Savannah’s plate.

The tenderness in his gaze stabbed at Sydney like knives.

He had always been obsessive about cleanliness. Every time he ate lobster, she had shelled each one for him. And now… he was doing it for Savannah.

Chicago stood on his chair, yelling for cake. Preston didn’t scold him at all; he cut the cake and gave him a slice, coaxing him gently and patiently.

The scene reminded Sydney of her own son, the memory of him so painful she had to catch her breath.

Preston had never once celebrated a birthday with Julien. The father that he was had been “too busy,” and when he was home, he was stern. ‘Boys shouldn’t be delicate,’ he would say, never embracing Julien, never feeding him at the table.

Julien had died without ever seeing his father celebrate him. Meanwhile, Savannah’s son easily won Preston’s affection.

Sydney bit down on her trembling lips, refusing to let the tears fall.

Savannah noticed her and smiled faintly. “Oh, Sydney, you’re home. Why so quiet? Can’t stand to see Chicago and me?”

Preston lifted his head, and his gaze fell on Sydney. His once relaxed features quickly twisted with displeasure.

“Come on, Sydney. Savannah is your sister. She and Chicago just returned to the country, so they’ll be staying here from now on. As the older sister, you should be more understanding. Don’t try to compete with her in everything.”

Sydney’s lips curled into a bitter, mocking smile. “Preston… Do you even know what day it is today?”

He frowned but didn’t respond.

Her eyes flared red as she forced the emotion down. “It’s Julien’s birthday, too.”

Her Julien lay alone in the cold cemetery, and his father hadn’t even looked at him. Yet here Preston was, celebrating Savannah’s son.

Was this man even human?

For a brief moment, guilt flickered across his eyes.

Savannah and Chicago had just returned to the country today, and it was the boy’s birthday. There were too many things going on; Preston had forgotten it was also Julien’s birthday, too.

“It’s Chicago’s birthday. I couldn’t leave…” he explained.

Before he could finish what he was saying, Sydney laughed bitterly and turned away.

She didn’t want to hear how much Preston adored Chicago—that only deepened her grief for Julien.

She returned to her room. Savannah followed, dripping fake concern.

“Sydney,” she said, “I know Julien’s death is hard for you. But he was born with a congenital heart defect. His life was suffering, death… was a release for him.”

Sydney shivered. Julien was her deepest wound, and Savannah deliberately tore at it.

Unable to restrain herself, she raised her hand across Savannah’s face.

“What are you doing?!” Preston’s cold voice cut through the air.

Savannah clutched her face and leaned into him. “Preston, I was only trying to show concern for her. And yet… she hit me! Does she not want me and Chicago to stay here?”

Preston’s eyes darkened. The next second, his hand came down on Sydney with full force.

It was so strong that the world spun in Sydney’s eyes, her ears ringing from the blow.

“From today,” Preston announced, “the master bedroom goes to Savannah. You move to the guest room!”

Feeling something wet by her ear, Sydney reached up and touched warm, sticky, and red liquid.

Sydney’s eyes widened in disbelief as they stared at Preston.

Savannah then softly said, “Sydney, that look… You mean you don’t want to give me the master bedroom?”

Preston looked at Sydney with disgust. “Such jealousy. Perhaps I was too good to you these past years. Since you have forgotten your place… then maybe the confinement room will help you reflect.”

The words echoed in her head. ‘Confinement room?!’

Before she could protest, she was dragged into a dark and airtight room.

Worse, she had claustrophobia.

In an instant, panic and suffocation hit her in tandem. “Let me out! Preston, I’m scared of the dark! Let me out!”

Outside, Preston’s brow furrowed, a moment of hesitation softening him, but then Savannah’s whisper reached him.

“Hey, are you feeling sorry for her? She grew up in the countryside, remember? She can’t be scared of the dark. She’s faking it. Five years ago, she forced me abroad and stole you from me… Now, she’s playing the same games.”

Preston knelt beside Savannah. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he reassured her, leaving Sydney trapped.

Her heart sank as their footsteps faded.

He had really locked her in here.

Tears spilled uncontrollably. She curled up, digging her nails into her flesh, biting her lips until they bled.

In her bloodshot eyes burned nothing but hatred.

In the dead of night, warm liquid splashed her face, the stench hitting her.

She snapped her eyes open in terror. A massive dog’s head loomed above her.

“Ahhh!” she screamed.

The next second, sharp teeth sank into her arm.

She struggled violently, but there was no escape. Flesh tore from her arm, thigh, and back.

The sealed room was filled with the stench of blood.

Crawling to the door while covered in blood, she cried out for help with all her strength. “Someone! Save me… Preston, help me! Let me out!”

But no matter how she screamed, the door stayed tightly shut.

Drawn by the scent of blood, the dog grew even more frenzied, lunging for her neck.

“Ugh—”

At that point, pain exploded through her body, and she coughed up a mouthful of blood. Shortly after, she blacked out.

Sydney woke up in the hospital.

Her entire body ached, and her delicate throat was wrapped in layers of gauze. The moment she tried to speak, it felt as if sharp knives were cutting through her throat, sending cold sweat down her spine.

“I…”

The nurse hurriedly stopped her. “Your throat is seriously injured. You can’t speak for now.”

Sydney picked up her phone and saw Savannah’s latest Instagram post.

At the amusement park, Preston held Chicago’s hand on one side, Savannah on the other—the three looking like a perfect happy family.

Sydney’s gaze darkened instantly, fists clenching so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Before Julien died, his greatest wish had been for Preston to take him to the amusement park. But the poor boy had never gotten that chance.

Not even on his birthday did Preston show up. They waited day and night for him, but he never came.

He said he was busy with work. But Sydney knew too well that was just an excuse!

Three whole years, he spared not a single day for Julien, yet the moment Savannah returned to New York, he immediately whisked her and Chicago off to the amusement park.

Sydney threw back the covers and tried to stand.

The nurse grew worried. “Hey, you can’t leave yet! You’re heavily injured and pregnant! If you must be discharged, your family has to come get you.”

Family?

A bitter laugh escaped Sydney’s lips. The Adelsons had always treated her like a tool. And her husband…

Welp, ever since Savannah and her son returned, Preston had probably already forgotten his wife existed.

The moment she stepped through the villa’s door, her blood boiled.

An Alaskan malamute wore a tiny outfit. To be specific, it was Julien’s outfit!

Every piece of the boy’s belongings had been carefully preserved by her, treasured like a lifeline. And now, someone had desecrated them like this!

Rage ignited inside her right there and then. Ignoring her injuries, she lunged to snatch the clothes.

Just then, Preston and Savannah walked in with Chicago.

The kid swung a wooden stick at Sydney. “Bad woman! Don’t hurt Loki! I’ll beat you to death! I’ll beat you to death, bad woman!”

But Sydney’s eyes were fixed only on Julien’s clothes.The next second, she shoved the kid aside.

The kid toppled to the floor and started wailing.

Preston’s face darkened instantly. He scooped up Chicago, soothing him, then spun around to scold Sydney.

“What’s gotten into you?!”

Her eyes were bloodshot, fury clouding all reason. “Preston, that’s Julien’s clothing! You’re putting Julien’s clothes on a dog!”

Savannah frowned. “It’s just a piece of clothing. Why make such a fuss? I can just buy her a new one. Sydney, there’s no need to hit a child over something so trivial.”

“You can’t replace it!” Sydney shot back. “Julien is dead, and you dare to humiliate him like this?!”

“That’s enough!” Preston’s voice cut through.

His gaze turned cold, sharp as a blade, his face hard with fury. “It’s just a piece of clothing. Is it really worth making such a scene? Seriously, Sydney, you’re becoming increasingly unruly!”

Sydney stared at him, dumbfounded.

‘Just a piece of clothing…’ she repeated in her head.

“Preston, that’s Julien’s clothing!” she roared.

Preston’s brows furrowed. “For god’s sake, Sydney, Julien is dead! How long are you going to keep this up?”

Sydney fell silent, her heart shattering.

How could someone be so cold-blooded?

Julien was his child, too.

At that moment, Chicago tugged Preston’s hand, pouting. “Loki doesn’t have a room yet. Can he stay in the room upstairs?”

Without hesitation, Preston replied, “Sure.”

The second-floor room was Julien’s room. Sydney’s pupils constricted, fury igniting in her eyes.

Preston wanted to give Julien’s room to a dog?!

Feeling invincible with Preston’s support, Chicago went further. He threw Julien’s favorite stuffed toy to the dog.

That toy had been Julien’s constant companion, smelled of him, and the only thing Sydney could hug each night to get any sleep.

Now, the toy was clamped between the dog’s teeth.

Pain twisted her insides like a knife in agony. Her chest felt pierced, heartache so sharp it was unbearable.

Teeth gritted, emotions spiraling out of control, she lunged for the toy—but Chicago shoved her hard.

Her forehead slammed against the crimson table corner; blood gushed instantly.

She couldn’t stand. Blood streamed over her lashes, her vision drowned in the red blurring her vision until everything around her turned scarlet.

Preston’s eyes flickered. His hand lifted, then he heard Savannah whisper.

“Preston, my hand really hurts.”

Preston immediately scooped her up and walked out, not even glancing at Sydney on the floor.

Sydney forced her eyes open. All she saw was Preston’s cold and distant back and Savannah’s triumphant smirk.

Every bone, every fiber in Sydney’s body hurt. But none of it compared to the agony in her chest!

Blood kept flowing, her temperature dropping. Her face turned as pale as paper; her brown pupils were like bottomless pits filled with pain and hatred…

Suddenly, her phone rang. It was Brooks.

With great effort, she picked up the phone.

On the other end of the line, Brooks said coldly, “I’ve found a divorce lawyer for you. Sydney… don’t make me wait too long.”