We're releasing balloons on Christmas Eve when Milton Jenning's lover deliberately sets off fireworks. They explode on me, burning me severely.

My back, already torn and raw from skin grafts for her, becomes even more of a bloodied mess.

However, I don't ask Milton for help. Instead, I shield a recently reunited heir of a wealthy family beneath me, risking everything to save him.

In my past life, Milton kicked me in the back and told me not to stand in the way of him taking his lover to the hospital.

"Is it funny to you to use a child as a cover, Larissa? Even if you're pregnant, you and your baby are just walking skin providers for Rita! I must've spoiled you—how dare you do something as heinous as this!"

I was blacklisted by all hospitals and ended up dying while pregnant. My heart was filled with hatred as I breathed my last breath.

When I open my eyes again, I see Rita Atkinson secretly aim fireworks at the night sky and set them off. I hear her laugh manically as she says, "You and your child can die together!"

The moment the fireworks collided with the hydrogen balloon, I was instantly swallowed by a roaring blaze.

Thick, choking smoke stung my lungs, which made breathing almost impossible. I forced myself to stay calm despite the searing pain in my lower abdomen and back.

"Larissa… it hurts so much…"

Following the faint cry for help, I spotted Oliver Patton collapsed in a pool of blood. He was clutching his chest in agony.

The eldest grandson of the Patton family—he had recently returned home after being kidnapped. He was just a child.

While dragging my heavy body forward, I shielded him with my own. I knew how fragile he was, especially with his heart condition.

"It's okay. I'm here." I pulled out one of my earrings and stabbed it into my thigh to stay conscious, my voice soft as I comforted him. "I won't let anything happen to you."

My hands froze mid-CPR when a luxury car suddenly sped toward us.

The door flew open, slamming into me and knocking me aside. The man who rushed out straight toward Rita Atkinson was none other than my husband, Milton Jenning.

Even though he saw his wife covered in blood, he didn't hesitate for a second.

He rushed to Rita's side and held her in his arms, inspecting her from head to toe. In this second life of mine, his heart still belonged entirely to someone else.

The burning pain in my abdomen flared—like a snake made of fire sinking its fangs into me.

From behind me, the sickening scent of burnt flesh filled the air. The wound from before hadn't healed, and now it was worse. Cold sweat dripped down my face.

"Mr. Jenning! Mrs. Jenning is bleeding badly!"

His assistant panicked, instinctively running toward me with a bandage in hand.

But Milton stopped him with a look of pure disgust.

"She set off fireworks in a public area. Who knows what kind of disaster could've happened if Rita hadn't warned me?"

Tears streamed down my face.

Of course, Milton had always believed every word Rita said.

He ignored my cries for help. All the top doctors he brought were attending to Rita. He'd even blacklisted me from every hospital.

In this life, I had completely given up on him.

While continuing CPR on Oliver, I secretly reached out to the Patton family.

After the reunion, they'd been terrified of losing him again and had assigned an entire security team to protect him.

We'd gotten separated in the chaos earlier, but I believed they'd arrive any minute now.

A stray ember landed on my arm, and as I lifted it, a layer of skin tore clean off.

The assistant let out a sharp cry and looked anxiously at Milton.

"Mr. Jenning, Mrs. Jenning just had a skin graft. Now she's suffering from severe burns again…"

Because Rita had intentionally burned her arm, Milton had dragged me onto the operating table and forced me to undergo surgery to make up for it.

At the memory, a sharp cramp shot through my lower abdomen.

The doctors who had been fawning over Rita sneered.

"You're defending her this much—what, got some shady relationship going on?"

"She brought this on herself. Throwing tantrums and threatening suicide over some love rivalry with Ms. Atkinson—everyone knows the Jenning family's wife is vicious."

Through it all, Milton didn't spare me a single glance. He said nothing, silently endorsing the abuse with his silence.

"Mr. Jenning, Larissa has a baby in her belly. Please… save her."

Oliver, weak and trembling in my arms, turned to the one man he thought could help. His innocent concern made my throat tighten.

In our last life, he wouldn't have suffered that sudden heart attack if it weren't for me.

I grabbed the hem of Milton's coat, my voice trembling with desperation. "He's the Patton family's eldest grandson."

But Milton just shrugged off his jacket and tossed it aside, his eyes filled with cold disgust.

"Everyone knows the Patton heir went missing years ago. Where'd you pick up this stay?"

Then, without warning, he drove his shoe into my stomach. "Drop the act. I always used protection. There's no way you're pregnant."

Before the venom in his words had fully settled, Rita let out a pained moan. Milton became anxious instantly. He rushed to her side, scooping her into his arms and whispering gentle comforts.

I let out a bitter, hollow laugh. Blood mixed with pus from my infected wounds pooled beneath me.

How absurd—my husband, tenderly comforting his mistress right in front of his pregnant wife.

The assistant tried to make excuses for Milton, but I shook my head.

Not long ago, my father had fought off human traffickers to save Oliver, sacrificing his life in the process.

I had begged Milton to attend the funeral. He scoffed and said my dad stuck his nose where it didn't belong, then spent the holiday celebrating with Rita.

That night, the one meant for reunion, I stayed alone in the mourning hall and cried beside my father's casket.

"Oh, I missed the holiday with you, and now you want to go commit arson?" Milton's gaze turned sharp, and his voice rose with fury.

"If anything happens to Rita, you and that so-called child of yours won't walk away either!"

Just before he left to take Rita to the hospital, he tossed a handkerchief onto my head. "Wipe your face. You're disgusting."

Milton's cold words stabbed into my heart like steel needles. The exhaust fumes from the car made my lungs seize up, and suddenly, I coughed up a mouthful of blood.

After wiping it away with the back of my hand, I let out a bitter laugh.

Milton's loyalty would always tip toward Rita.

"Oh, my God! That kid's foaming at the mouth! Is he dying?"

Panic rippled through the crowd, but not a single person stepped forward to help.

While holding my breath, I pushed through the chaos and loosened Oliver's collar. "Wake up! Don't fall asleep!"

But his pupils had already gone dull. He was too weak to respond.

Suddenly, a still-burning cigarette butt droppped nearby and reignited the lingering hydrogen. In an instant, flames shot up toward the sky, and a wave of scorching heat slammed into us.

Screams erupted around me. In the chaos, I was shoved and trampled, my wrists and ankles swollen and throbbing.

When I looked down, I met Oliver's terrified gaze. His voice was barely a whisper. "Larissa… run…"

It felt like the fire was boiling the blood in my veins.

The skin on my back sizzled from the heat. My vision swam, and a cry escaped my lips as pain seared through my body.

I clenched my teeth, hoisted Oliver onto my back, and ran toward the nearby fountain.

Pushed left and right by the panicked crowd, I eventually dropped to my knees.

Sharp stones tore into my skin, but I kept going. While pressing on his chest again and again, I called to him softly, over and over.

Finally, his chest began to rise and fall with strength again. And just like that, everything drained from me. I collapsed beside him, hollow as an empty shell.

The bodyguards arrived too late. The moment their eyes landed on me, they gasped.

"In less than an hour… Ms. Glisson's entire body is torn to shreds! If it weren't for her, Mr. Oliver would've—"

Oliver, who had just regained consciousness, burst into tears and gripped my hand tightly. "Larissa… I don't want you to die."

I didn't allow myself to close my eyes until I saw Mr. Patton Senior—Oliver's grandfather—personally escort Oliver into the ambulance.

…

When I opened them again, my entire body was hooked up to machines.

During rounds, the doctor said I was incredibly lucky to survive. My will to live during surgery had been so weak, but every time the child was mentioned, my heart rate steadied.

When I heard that the baby was safe, I finally let out a long breath of relief.

The hospital room door opened. Mr. Patton Senior entered, and the moment he saw I was awake, his face lit up with joy. He immediately moved as if to bow.

"Larissa, if Oliver hadn't been willing to trust you, I never would've dragged you into this. You could've been home with your family, celebrating together."

At his words, I lowered my eyes and gave a bitter smile.

What family? Besides the child in my belly, I had no one left.

"I swear I'll get to the bottom of who set off those fireworks. You deserve an answer."

I quickly helped him up, my nose stinging with emotion at the rare moment of concern.

He had no real obligation to me, yet here he was—fighting for justice on my behalf. Meanwhile, my husband, Milton, had already branded me the culprit.

My lips curled into a smile that felt more painful than tears. Just thinking about Milton's cold indifference drained every last bit of color from my face.

Upon noticing my silence, Mr. Patton Senior sighed and gently patted my shoulder before heading for the door.

"As long as Patton Group stands, you'll always be our savior," he said.

I nodded firmly, truly grateful for that warmth.

But just as I let myself soak in the brief comfort, an unwelcome visitor stormed in.

"Larissa, who gave you permission to steal Rita's primary doctor?"

Without warning, Milton yanked me up from the bed. The tight furrow of his brows made his displeasure crystal clear.

Rita clung to his side, shrinking back when her gaze met mine, her eyes red-rimmed and watery.

"It's okay, Milton… Larissa's already hurt me so many times. I'm used to it. Please don't fight because of me," she whined.

Her trembling voice only poured fuel on Milton's fury. He jabbed a finger hard against my forehead. "If it weren't for Rita holding me back, I would've taught you a real lesson!"

Then, his voice dropped to a threatening growl. "I'll ask you one thing—are you giving him up or not?"

There was a time when, if Milton had asked, I would've given him everything—even my heart and soul—without hesitation.

But now, as I laughed, hot and heavy tears spilled down my cheeks. My voice was steadier than ever, filled with a kind of finality I'd never known before.

"I'm not giving him up," I said.

I turned my head and met Milton's eyes without a single trace of fear. "Unless I'm dead."

The air went still, completely silent.

The harsh rebuke Milton had ready died in his throat. He stared at me, wide-eyed, clearly never expecting me to fight back.

"Larissa… who gave you the guts to talk to me like this?" he snapped.

His anger surged with every word. He grabbed my chin in a tight grip and spoke slowly, through gritted teeth.

"Then you'll die for it. If you don't give him up, forget about being Mrs. Jenning."

He thought he had me cornered. He thought he knew my weakness. That smug flash of contempt in his eyes said it all.

But I just met his gaze, peeled his hand off my face, and said, "Milton, let's get a divorce."

He froze. And just like that, Rita burst into tears, sobbing so hard her whole body trembled.

She leaned on the edge of the bed, her shoulders shaking as she put on her best show of fake sincerity.

Gently, she took my hand and whispered, "If you don't want to let go, I'll die for you. If you don't want the responsibility, I'll go to jail in your place."

No sooner had she said those words than she yanked the rosary bead bracelet off my wrist, snapping it apart.

She used the moment to pull me into a hug, her sharp nails digging deep into my burned back.

"But please, don't make Milton mad. I can't bear to see him upset," she whispered.

I didn't even have time to cry out. Instinctively, I shoved her away. A glass cup on the nightstand tipped and crashed to the floor.

The shards pierced through the sole of my foot, and a fresh jolt of pain shot through my hand as I caught myself.

Trembling, I reached for the scattered beads, picking them up one by one. I felt my heart shatter right along with them.

That year, I fell into a coma after saving Milton.

He had never prayed before. With trembling hands, he had pressed his palms together, bowed his head to the floor, and rose again. He made a wish and begged for this rosary bead bracelet on my behalf.

All he wanted was for me to live in peace and safety.

That bracelet had gotten me through countless long nights. But when I met Milton's confused gaze, half the warmth in my heart vanished.

Maybe everything had a spirit, and maybe even the rosary could sense just how little love Milton had left for me.

Just as I was about to fall apart, Rita shoved down on my shoulder, driving the glass even deeper into my skin.

"Wow, Larissa. Skin graft, burns—your life's really hard to kill. So what if you've got the title of his wife?"

She leaned in, her voice dropping into a sneering whisper.

"On the day of your father's funeral, Milton was there, actually. I had him behind the memorial photo. A few times. Your crying was annoying."

My hand froze midair. The rosary beads I'd been clutching slipped through my fingers and scattered across the floor.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, the horror sinking in.

How could they?

With a scream torn straight from the center of my chest, I lunged at her, slamming my head toward her like a madwoman. "What kind of monsters are you?"

But she stepped aside with ease, and I crashed straight into the wall. Blood streamed down my face.

Before I could recover, Rita dropped to the floor like a delicate flower, her cheeks streaked with tears. She looked up at me, wide-eyed and trembling. "Larissa… I was just trying to comfort you."

A moment later, she buried her face in Milton's neck, sobbing like the victim in a well-rehearsed play.

"Milton… forget the doctor. I don't want to make things hard for you," she said.

Milton gently scooped her up and laid her down on the hospital bed, cradling her like she was made of glass.

Then he turned to me, stormed over, grabbed me by the collar, and shouted in my face.

"Larissa! You've gone too far! Lying, endangering lives, and acting out of control! I spoiled you, and this is what I get!"

I raised a trembling finger to the corner of my eye, trying to stop the tears, but they came anyway.

I couldn't believe the Milton I once loved so deeply had turned into this heartless man.

While bracing myself against the wall, I forced my shaking body upright.

My voice came out raw and broken. "Milton… You did that with her at my father's memorial, and I'm the one who's too much?

"Rita lit those fireworks on purpose when the balloons were released, and she nearly killed our child. And you still think she's innocent?"