Claudine staggered to her feet, refusing to spare Maeve another breath. If Maeve wasn’t leaving, then she would.

But just as Claudine turned to go downstairs, Maeve suddenly darted in front of her, grabbed her hand and threw herself backward.

The two of them tumbled down the staircase together.

The memory of her miscarriage—the last time she’d fallen like this—flashed violently in Claudine’s mind.

“Maeve!” Elliot shouted.

“Elliot, it hurts—oh God, the baby!” Maeve cried out.

“I’m sorry. I never should’ve used that fetus for treatment. If you’re angry, take it out on me, Claudine. The baby doesn’t deserve this.”

Claudine’s head slammed hard against a step. Her vision blurred, ears ringing. The accusation echoed in her ears, but she was in too much pain to defend herself.

“You’ve gone too far,” Elliot growled, voice sharp as steel. “I never thought you could be this cruel. If anything happens to the baby Maeve’s carrying, I swear you’ll pay for it.”

His eyes were full of disgust, like he didn’t even recognize her anymore.

Maeve curled into Elliot’s arms like a wounded bird, tears slipping prettily down her cheeks. She looked fragile. Devastated.

Claudine didn’t care about any of that. She forced out a whisper, using the last of her strength. “Please… take me to the hospital…”

Her voice faded, her eyes fluttering shut.

“No one is to help her,” Elliot said coldly. “Let this be a lesson to her.”

Maeve. The way he’d cried out her name—it said everything. They didn’t even bother hiding it anymore.

As their figures faded from view, Claudine’s body finally gave out. Darkness swallowed her whole.

***

Claudine opened her eyes two days later in a hospital room.

“You’re finally awake. You’ve been out for a full forty-eight hours,” the nurse said, adjusting her bandages.

“Where’s your family? Dropping you off and then vanishing? What kind of family does that?” she muttered.

“I don’t have a family,” Claudine replied softly.

The nurse paused. The air turned heavy with silence.

“You had a high fever that wouldn’t break and the head trauma left you with a mild concussion. You need to rest. No emotional stress, alright?”

No sooner had the nurse stepped out than Elliot walked in.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said flatly. “I know you’re grieving the baby, but you went too far. Maeve’s only a little shaken, thank God. You need to apologize to her. Consider this a wake-up call.”

His voice was cold, rigid.

Claudine had long stopped expecting compassion from Elliot, but that didn’t make his cruelty hurt any less.

She didn’t argue. Just gave a faint hum, eyes cast downward.

Something flickered in Elliot’s gaze—uncertainty, maybe even guilt.

The Claudine he knew would’ve snapped back, denied the blame, met him blow for blow. But now she just lay there, quiet and wrecked. And it rattled him.

“Tonight’s Maeve’s birthday,” he said, his tone softening. “I’ve already picked out a gift for you to bring. A car will be here to take you to the party.”

He turned to leave.

“Can I not go?” Claudine asked cautiously.

“No,” Elliot said without hesitation. “What happened last time was your fault. She’s your sister-in-law. It would be rude if you didn’t show up. Besides, this is a good chance to smooth things over between you two.”

Claudine forced a hollow smile.

She didn’t argue.

She picked up her phone and checked the notification from the airline.

Three more days.

Just three days until she could finally leave it all behind.

The banquet hall was a floral wonderland, covered in freshly flown-in blooms from France.

Maeve stood in the center of the crowd, radiant in an elegant designer gown, soaking up the compliments and admiration like a queen basking in her court.

When Maeve spotted Claudine at the entrance, her lips curled slightly. Her face said welcome, but her eyes screamed mockery.

She walked through the crowd and took Claudine’s hand with fake warmth.

“Claudine, I’m so glad you could make it to my birthday,” she said in a sugary voice. “The baby and I are truly grateful,” she added, placing a gentle hand on her belly. Her gaze flicked toward Elliot with a shy smile, like a doting mother waiting for approval.

Before anyone could process what was happening, Elliot stepped up to the mic.

“Tonight isn’t just a celebration of my sister-in-law’s birthday,” he said. “I also have an announcement to make. From now on, all assets of the Graves Corporation will go to the child Maeve is carrying. He or she will be the sole heir to the Graves legacy.”

The room erupted into applause and congratulations.

Elliot stepped off the stage and leaned close to Claudine, whispering in her ear.

“Melvin died saving me. We owe this to Maeve. And let’s be real—you won’t be able to have children, Claudine. This baby is probably the only heir the Graves Family will ever have. But don’t worry, you’ll never have to struggle. I’ll make sure all your needs are taken care of."

But his eyes never left Maeve, who stood glowing at the top of the stairs, soaking in every moment.

That look—so full of love—cut through Claudine like glass.

Of course it hurt. Of course it was the people closest to you who knew exactly where to twist the knife. The wounds they left behind were the deepest. The ones that never quite healed.

She swallowed the lump in her throat.

Before she could collect herself, Maeve turned to her, beaming.

“We had a little misunderstanding, Claudine and I,” Maeve said to the crowd. “But now that I’m about to be a mother, I understand her emotions better.”

She turned to Claudine, voice syrupy and sweet.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to apologize to me, Claudine? Don’t be shy now. Everyone’s watching. Admitting you were wrong is the first step toward making things right.”

All eyes shifted to her.

“Claudine, you need to apologize,” Elliot said sternly, giving her no way out.

Whispers rippled through the room like wildfire.

“I heard she pushed Maeve down the stairs because she couldn’t handle losing her own baby.”

“God, that’s sick. That poor baby never even had a chance.”

“She’s lucky all she has to do is apologize…”

Claudine caved.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling, her eyes fixed on Elliot—who stood there in silent approval.

But Maeve wasn’t finished.

“You don’t sound very sincere,” she said lightly, with a fake little laugh. “How about you show us how sorry you are? Drink the wine and I’ll consider you forgiven,” She gestured to a long table covered in tiny, gleaming shot glasses—lined up in neat little rows.

Ninety-nine glasses of wine.

Claudine’s eyes bounced between the glasses and Maeve.

This woman had already caused her to lose her baby. Had yanked her down the stairs. And now she wanted her to drink—knowing full well she had alcohol intolerance?

Maeve wasn’t just humiliating her. She was trying to kill her.

Claudine turned to Elliot, praying he would stop this. That he’d finally, finally defend her.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he spoke like she was the one being unreasonable.

“Don’t embarrass her tonight, Claudine. It’s her birthday.”

It felt like a slap.

“But… I’ll die,” she said through clenched teeth, anger flaring in her gut.

“You won’t,” he replied coldly. “Besides, all of this started because of you.”

Claudine let out a bitter laugh. There was no use fighting anymore.

She picked up a glass.

Then another.

And another.

One by one, she downed them like water, her throat burning with each swallow.

The liquor stung like fire.

Her tears mixed with the bitterness, drowning her in shame.

Elliot remained silent, his gaze dark and piercing as he stared at her.

A sharp scream pierced the air.

“Ah!”

Maeve collapsed to the floor, the elegant gift box before her containing two blood-soaked dead geese—one large, one small. The stench of blood quickly filled the room.

Maeve clutched her stomach in panic, tears streaming down her face like a broken string of pearls.

“My stomach, it hurts, the baby!” she cried.

“Claudine, I don’t understand why you keep targeting me and the baby. I’ll let the baby call you mom if it will make things better! Please, leave me and my baby alone! I just want to have a safe pregnancy and give birth peacefully.”

Maeve sobbed, desperately pleading.

Only then did those around them realize that the box containing the dead geese had been brought by Claudine.

Elliot immediately scooped Maeve into his arms, turning to face Claudine with a look of cold fury.

For the first time, his anger flared.

“Claudine, you’ve gone too far! If anything happens to Maeve or the baby, I want you out of the Graves Family immediately. We’re getting a divorce!”

This was the first time Elliot had ever mentioned divorce.

Years ago, when he had pulled her from the freezing ocean, he had held her cold, stiff body close to his, eyes filled with worry and helplessness.

“I’m sorry, Claudine. I promise I’ll never let you get hurt again.”

Every night, he had whispered promises into her ear.

“We’ll be together forever, Claudine. Never to part.”

But everything had changed since Maeve entered the Graves Family.

She had lost the baby, lost her husband and seen the true nature of this marriage filled with calculation and deceit.

A bitter, metallic taste surged up Claudine’s throat. She couldn’t stop herself from collapsing, darkness taking over her vision.

Under the eyes of everyone, her husband once again chose someone else.

The two of them were rushed to a private hospital.

A sharp pain shot through her and as she opened her eyes, she saw a large needle attached to her arm, drawing her blood.

“Don’t move! Maeve was shocked and fainted, she needs an emergency blood transfusion and you happen to have RH-negative blood,” Elliot said, his voice full of concern, though his gaze wasn’t directed at her.

A nurse rushed in, looking alarmed.

“The patient's condition isn’t looking good; she may need more blood.”

Elliot’s expression darkened, his voice cold and firm.

“Keep drawing!”

The nurse hesitated, her brows furrowing with sympathy as she tried to gently stop him.

“We can’t take more. She came in with a severe alcohol-induced allergic reaction and her condition is critical. We’ve already drawn 800cc—if we take more, she might not survive.”

Elliot’s expression darkened. The air thickened with tension as he stepped closer, eyes cold and unreadable.

“I’m your boss,” he said icily. “If you won’t follow my orders, get out.”

Under his threat, the nurse reluctantly moved to draw blood from her other arm, since the first one had been used up.

Claudine’s face grew pale. She fought against the nauseating taste in her throat, too weak to speak. The world spun around her, her body unable to fight back, left at the mercy of others.

Finally, Elliot stopped the procedure.

Twelve hundred cc of blood—and one unborn child. That was what the Graves Family had taken from her. She figured they were even now. Their so-called kindness had been repaid in full.

They left her in a cold, empty hospital room.

Her mind drifted in and out of consciousness, swaying between brief moments of clarity and fevered delirium.

Outside the room, two nurses passed by.

“I heard that Mr. Graves treats his wife so well. She just had a little scare, but he stayed up all night by her side, even had blood transfused for her. What a sweet couple. I envy them,” a nurse whispered.

“Shh, I heard she’s not Mr. Graves' wife. The one in the bed is his wife, the other is his sister-in-law,” another nurse quickly corrected.