Sydney walked out of the hospital by herself and headed straight to a divorce lawyer.

The divorce papers were already prepared. The lawyer glanced at her seriously. “Ma’am, Mr. Stryker asked me to pass along a message.”

He relayed, “Don’t forget—you have my family behind you. Even if everything falls apart, someone will be there to catch you.”

Sydney’s eyes stung, and she clenched the papers tightly in her hand.

She had been reckless—leaving the Strykers to return to her own, stubbornly marrying Preston despite knowing better. Now, she knew just how ridiculously wrong she had been.

All along, the man who truly loved her in this world was in the Strykers.

With that realization, she took the divorce agreement and went to the company to find Preston.

But she hadn’t even reached the upper floor when his assistant stopped her.

With a blank expression, the assistant said, “Sir Preston is in a meeting. He doesn’t have time to see you.”

A chill swept through Sydney’s eyes. She should have guessed Preston had cheated. Otherwise, how could his assistant speak to her like this?

At that moment, Savannah arrived.

Seeing Sydney, her face darkened. Crossing her arms, she sneered, “What are you doing here? Preston doesn’t want to see you at all. Girl, take my advice—wake up and stop clinging to him. The woman he loves is me.”

Sydney returned the cold gaze, holding up the divorce papers. “If you don’t want to be the shameful mistress your whole life, then have Preston sign this.”

Savannah took the document, surprised and hesitant for a moment. It didn’t take long before greed flashed in her eyes as she realized they were genuine divorce papers.

“You’re really divorcing Preston?” she asked, trying to mask her excitement.

But Sydney just made a move to leave. Fearing she might change her mind, Savannah wasted no time; she pushed the meeting room door open.

This time, the assistant didn’t even try to stop the visitor. His boss had specifically told Savannah she could enter anywhere freely.

When Preston saw her, there was no trace of annoyance at being interrupted. Instead, his expression softened as he asked her gently.

“Savannah, what brings you here?”

Savannah flipped straight to the last page. “Preston, sign here.”

He didn’t even glance at it; he just signed his name.

Seeing how easy it was for him, Sydney let out a bitter smile.

‘So this is what it means when he loves someone—meetings can be interrupted, documents can be signed without a glance,’ she thought.

She had once foolishly thought he loved her. ‘Damn, that’s hilarious,’ she thought to herself.

Savannah handed the signed divorce papers back to Sydney. “Here. Don’t pester him again.”

Sydney took them and went straight to the clerk’s office.

She glanced outside; rain had started, cold and fine, whipping through the wind. She wrapped her coat tighter around herself, still shivering.

When she stepped back into the villa, she saw Preston and Savannah on the couch, entwined in intimacy.

Sydney turned a blind eye and headed upstairs.

But Savannah wasn’t done with her.

“Hey, Sydney. You grew up in the countryside, didn’t you? You must be good at cooking, right? I haven’t had much of an appetite lately. I want some soup made by you.”

Sydney’s face remained blank. “I’m not your maid,” she replied flatly.

Savannah pouted and whined at Preston. “Preston, I just want some soup. But she won’t even make it for me. Is she still mad that we let Loki stay in Julien’s room?”

Preston frowned, his eyes darkening as he glanced at Sydney. “It’s just a bowl of soup. You’ve used to make it before. If Savannah wants it, make it for her.”

Sydney froze. At that point, it felt like all the love she had poured out had gone to the dogs.

She had been pampered by the Strykers since childhood—her foster parents and Brooks had treated her like a little princess, never letting her touch chores.

She had learned to cook only for Preston because he was picky and refused anything the servants made. Feeling sorry for him, she took the initiative to learn.

Her hands had been burned with blisters more than a dozen times, every finger cut and scarred, before she finally mastered the skill.

And now that had become the very reason he bossed around her.

But Sydney sneered, firmly enunciating, “I won’t do it.”

She turned to leave when Preston’s face darkened. He barked, “Stop! If you want Julien’s ashes, go make the goddamn soup!”

Sydney spun around, disbelief and rage igniting. “Preston! What have you done?! You dug up Julien’s ashes?!”

Preston frowned at her furious gaze.

Savannah, pretending to reason, stoked the fire. “Don’t blame Preston, Sydney. After Chicago returned to the country, he wasn’t feeling well. Someone said some unclean spirit was harming him, so Preston had Julien’s ashes dug up.”

Sydney glared at Preston. “You fucking dug up Julien’s ashes?! Aren’t you afraid of karma?”

Savannah clutched her mouth, gasping. “Sydney! How can you curse Preston like that?”

Preston’s expression turned menacing. “Get lost! Make the soup!”

Sydney’s chest heaved violently, rage threatening to scorch her sanity.

Her Julien had been so obedient, so gentle, tormented by illness in life, and now, even in death, he was disturbed.

She couldn’t let him suffer further.

For him, she went to the kitchen.

The soup was ready when Savannah suddenly cried out, “Ouch! My hand! Sydney! Why did you pour this hot soup on me?!”

Hearing the panic, Preston rushed over and held Savannah in his arms.

His gaze, dark and murderous, shot to Sydney. “Do you want to die?!”

Sydney stood tall, her back straight. “I didn’t do it. She’s pretending.”

Veins bulging on his forehead, his eyes cold as steel, Preston suddenly pressed Sydney’s hand into the boiling soup.

“Ahhh!”

Her scream of agony tore through the room. Waves of searing pain crashed through every nerve ending, her hand’s skin instantly reddened, blisters swelling and spreading her skin. The sight of it was grotesque and alarming to look at.

She bit her lip hard, body convulsing in agony, struggling desperately but unable to escape the searing agony that reached her bones.

Her tears mingled with sweat, blurring her vision.

After a while, Preston finally let go but hit her in the belly. “Savannah treats you like a sister, but you’re so wicked you purposely tried to burn her hand! If anything happens to her, I swear I will never forgive you!”

After that, he dashed off with Savannah to the hospital.

Meanwhile, Sydney lay on the floor, blood pooling beneath her. She knew exactly what that meant.

Her face was pale as death. The pain was worse than death itself.

The sharp scent of disinfectant hit her nose. Sydney woke up in the hospital again.

The blisters on her hands had been drained and bandaged.

The bad news—she had miscarried. Another child of hers was gone.

Her eyes went vacant, her heart a barren wasteland.

She couldn’t protect Julien, nor could she keep the baby she was carrying.

Just then, the hospital room door was suddenly kicked open with a bang.

Preston stormed in, his rage consuming him. He grabbed Sydney by the collar and yanked her up.

“Sydney! Look at the mess you’ve caused! Do you hate Savannah that much, that you had to steal everything from her?!” he shouted in one breath. “You’re already my wife! What more do you want? Why hurt Savannah and Chicago?!”

Her forehead glistened with sweat from the pain. “I-I never hurt Savannah…”

But Preston didn’t even give her a chance to explain.

He just quickly threw her to the floor like trash, his eyes shooting her daggers.

“Because of your jealousy, you burned her hand! Because of you, Chicago ran a high fever! I swear, Sydney, you will pay for what you’ve done!”

The next second, she was dragged from the general ward to the VIP suite.

He forced her head down, making her apologize to Savannah.

Over and over, her knees reddened, blood trickling down her pale legs, staining the floor.

Her expression went blank, her body numb from pain. She didn’t even have the strength to resist.

After almost a hundred times of forcing her to kneel, Preston finally stopped.

As she lost consciousness, she heard his cold, sharp voice in her ear.

“This is the price you pay for hurting Savannah…”

This time, Sydney remained unconscious for three days.

When she finally opened her eyes, a familiar figure stood before her.

Preston’s brow was tired, his forehead slightly furrowed, and his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

“You’re awake. Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? The doctor says you just miscarried; you need to rest,” he said. “Don’t be jealous of Savannah anymore. As long as you behave, I won’t divorce you. To the public, you will always be my wife.”

He pressed, “Chicago hasn’t been well lately. Sydney, look, you gotta be more understanding. If you can’t help me, at the very least, don’t make things harder. You and Savannah will continue living under the same roof. You must get along with her.”

“Hah.” Sydney scoffed. “Preston, what do you even think I am? A fool?”

They killed her son and now expect her to get along with Savannah? Did this jerk really think Sydney was that easy to manipulate?

Preston frowned, showing a subtle warning in his tone. “Savannah grew up in the Adelsons. Her bond with them isn’t something you can compete with. Sydney, continuing this will only hurt you.”

Sydney lowered her gaze, a contemptuous smile curling on her lips.

“Preston, I don’t want the Adelsons anymore. And I don’t want you either.”

If it weren’t for seeing her own blood once more, she would never have returned to the Adelsons, nor would she have married him.

The Adelsons only wanted to use her. At first, they pretended to feel guilty. But after she married Preston, the pretense ended. They treated the fake heiress as their real daughter and never cared whether Sydney lived or died.

Her words hit Preston, but he dismissed them as capricious defiance.

His voice turned colder, irritation flashing in his eyes. “Sydney, even jealousy has its limits. I’m busy, you know. I don’t have time to coddle you.”

Sydney’s stomach turned at his hypocrisy.

Losing her temper, she slammed the glass down, shattering it, and pointed at the door. “Get out! I don’t want to see you!”

Her defiance ignited his anger.

His face darkened, he kicked the door hard, then stormed off. The door slammed against the wall with a deafening crash.

Meanwhile, in the CEO’s office of the Strykers Corporation, the door opened.

The assistant placed the wedding proposal in front of Brooks.

“Sir, the company drafted a few wedding plans for your review.”

Behind the desk, the man in a tailored suit exuded sharp authority. His cold eyes scanned the assistant, slender fingers tapping lightly on the desk.

“What did the lawyer say?”

“Ma’am Sydney has already divorced Preston, sir.”

A faint smile tugged at Brooks’s lips. “Announce it publicly—I’m getting married.”

After five long years of waiting, Sydney was finally coming back to him.

All of New York was abuzz, everyone desperate to know the identity of the mysterious bride of the Strykers’ heir.

Even Preston had heard the news.

Savannah called Preston’s name again and again. “Preston? Preston?”

But he didn’t respond. She curled her lip in annoyance.

“Are you thinking about Sydney? You’ve been with her these past few days. Have you fallen for her? Don’t forget she forced me to go abroad, stole you from me, and even tried to burn me!”

Preston quickly set his work aside and soothed her in a soft voice. “What are you saying? How could she compare to you?”

But Savannah wouldn’t let it go. “I don’t believe you—unless you give me Sydnora. Then I’ll believe you.”

He hesitated for a few seconds.

Sydnora was a company Sydney had founded herself; she had always treasured it.

As if she sensed his hesitation, Savannah’s eyes brimmed with tears. She cried, guilt-tripping him, “I knew that five years would change everything. You used to agree to anything. You wouldn’t hesitate at all.”

Seeing her aggrieved expression, Preston couldn’t help but give in. “Alright, I’ll give it to you.”

Three days later, Sydney was discharged from the hospital and went home. Preston waited for her in the living room.

She didn’t want anything to do with him, but he handed her a document to sign: a transfer of shares for Sydnora.

“Savannah likes this company,” he said. “Transfer the shares to her.”

Sydney’s hand shook with fury as she tossed the papers into the trash. “That is my company! How dare you hand it to that woman?!”

When she’d returned to the Adelsons’ place hiding her identity, people mocked her for being a poor girl. For this reason, Preston had given her some money so she could start a business and stand on her own.

Syndora was the company she built for him and for Julien.

Over the years, she had gradually made it a recognized jewelry brand. She had planned to leave the company to her first child, but he never got to see that day.

Now, Preston expected her to give it away with a casual word.

She thought she’d grown numb. But suddenly, pain, like a thousand needles, pierced her chest.

“Preston, don’t go too far!” she snapped.

When she refused to sign, his face hardened. “You’re the reason Savannah and Chicago got hospitalized. Savannah likes your company; she’s giving you the chance to make up for what you did. Come on, Sydney, don’t be ungrateful.”

‘Ungrateful?!’ The word rang in her ears.

She ground her teeth, and in disbelief, she blurted out, “My god, Preston, I was really blind to love you for five years!”

His eyes darkened and anger rose in his chest. “If you want Julien’s ashes, then pick them up and sign.”

She couldn’t tolerate that manipulation anymore; before she knew it, her hand had already landed on his cheek, the blow so strong it left an imprint.

“Preston, Julien is your son, too! You threaten me with his ashes so you can give my company to Savannah? Are you still human?”

Preston’s Adam’s apple bobbed, a complicated emotion flickering across his face.

“I said I won’t divorce you. The company goes to Savannah. If you want children, we can have more.”

At the thought that she had once loved such a monster, Sydney felt sick.

“Ugh—” She rushed to the trash can and vomited, as if trying to empty herself of the last five years.

After she calmed, thinking of Julien, she finally signed.

After all, this would be the last day. Once she collected Julien’s ashes, she would leave Preston for good.

Outside the door, Savannah’s eyes glinted with cruelty.

‘As long as that bitch’s alive,’ she cursed, ‘Preston will never marry me. If that’s the case, they can’t blame me for the consequences!’

That night, Sydney and Savannah were kidnapped at the same time.

In an abandoned factory, Sydney was suspended by her feet, dangling in midair; Savannah hung beside her.

Sydney heard the kidnapper call Preston. “Mr. Rockefeller, I’ve got your women. If you want to save them, come alone.”

Preston acted fast, arriving at the location.

The first thing he did was check on Savannah, scanning her up and down nervously, and only after confirming she was uninjured did he breathe a sigh of relief.

A long time had passed before he remembered his wife.

He glanced at Sydney—only a casual look, nothing like the urgency he’d shown for Savannah just moments ago.

He turned to the kidnapper, asking, “How much do you want?”

At that question, the kidnapper twisted into a sinister grin and shoved a knife toward his captives. “Easy, Mr. Rockefeller. Why don’t we play a game? You can take one of these two women. The other one—she’s mine. What do you say?”

“No way!” Preston’s gaze went cold and fierce. He rejected the idea without hesitation.

The kidnapper burst into laughter, his eyes murderous. “Unfortunately for you—it’s not your choice. If you won’t pick, they both die with me.”

Preston clenched his fists, veins standing out.

When he stayed silent, Savannah suddenly spoke up. “Preston, the kidnappers are with my sister! I overheard them—Sydney’s actually jealous of me and staged the whole thing to frame me! Don’t be fooled!”

In a flash, that made Preston’s anger snap toward Sydney. Under his fierce stare, she didn’t flinch.

“If I said I didn’t do it, would you believe me?” she asked indifferently.

He obviously didn’t… because he chose Savannah.

In return, Savannah was freed and fell into his arms. He held her and looked at Sydney hanging there, his eyes cold and empty.

“Since you like playing these games, then play as long as you want.”

“Preston.” Sydney forced herself to speak. “Five years ago, I didn’t force Savannah to leave the country.”

He stopped mid-step when their eyes met, his heart suddenly tightening.

When she saw him hesitate, Savannah’s heart suddenly gripped with fear that he might believe Sydney.

She hurried to explain, “Preston, I love you so much. You know that. How could I leave you? She’s just jealous of me, so she’s trying to draw a wedge between us!”

Just like that, her tears and pitiful performance made Preston’s doubt instantly vanish.

He gently wiped away her tears.

When he lifted his head, in an instant, the warmth in his eyes vanished and only ruthless chill remained.

“Savannah’s pure and kind,” he declared. “Sydney, you’ve singled her out again and again. If I don’t give you a little lesson you won’t learn.”

The next second, he turned to the kidnapper, saying, “How much do you want? I’ll pay double. Make sure she learns something.”

Without taking the words back, he left with Savannah.

Sydney was left there, unable to believe how cold Preston’s heart could be.

As she watched the two walk away, she swore, “Preston! Savannah! I swear—both of you will pay for this!”

The kidnapper, pleased with double payment for one job, pressed the knife to Sydney’s skin. Before it touched her, a bullet tore through the wrist holding the blade.

A shadowed figure stepped down from a hovering winged craft and walked forward.

Brooks carefully caught Sydney in his arms. “Hey. I came to take you home.”