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.

After the nurses left, Claudine slowly opened her bloodshot eyes.

The pain behind them was bone-deep—devouring, endless. It wasn’t the kind of pain that made you cry. No tears would come. No sounds escaped her throat. It felt like invisible hands were choking her, keeping everything locked inside.

The man she had once trusted the most… the man she had loved with all her heart… had been the one to shove her into the bottomless abyss.

She couldn’t wait any longer.

The next day, dragging her weak body, she went to the airport. She had rebooked her ticket the night before. Her suitcase rattled quietly behind her as she read the message from her lawyer:

[The divorce agreement has been drafted according to your wishes and it will be delivered to your husband’s company tomorrow.]

She replied with a single word.

[Thanks.]

She took out her phone card and snapped it in half. She then removed her diamond ring from her left hand and tossed it into the trash bin.

She glanced at the bruises and needle marks on her arm. Before boarding, she gave one last look at the city.

She knew she’d never come back.

***

Back at the hospital, Elliot hadn’t slept a wink.

He stayed by Maeve’s side all night, only relaxing slightly when she finally woke up.

“Elliot, I’m fine... Claudine didn’t mean it. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed her like that,” Maeve murmured tearfully, her voice weak and trembling.

“Maeve, this isn’t your fault. I’ll take care of everything,” Elliot said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

After comforting Maeve, Elliot went to check on Claudine.

But when he entered her room, it was empty.

“Where is the patient here?” he asked, irritation in his voice.

“She checked herself out early this morning,” the nurse replied.

A sense of unease washed over Elliot. He pulled out his phone and called the butler.

“Tell Claudine this isn’t over. Tell her we’re going to the courthouse tomorrow. We’re getting divorced!”

The butler’s voice was filled with confusion. “Sir? I thought Madam was still in the hospital?”

Then, realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Forget it,” he snapped. “If she comes back, let her know running away won’t work on me. If she doesn't want a divorce, she’d better come back and apologize to Maeve.”

He hung up.

A moment later, his assistant came rushing in, looking flustered.

“Sir! Mrs. Graves just had divorce papers delivered to your office!”