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?"

Right after I finished speaking, Rita threw herself off the hospital bed. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, filled with stubbornness and sorrow.

"Looks like I've been getting in the way of your perfect little family. The doctor said if I didn't get new skin grafts soon, the burns could kill me. Don't worry. I'll stay out of sight so I won't ruin your happiness," she said.

She deliberately pulled back her sleeve, exposing the mottled, raw skin beneath. Then, with tears streaming down her face, she dialed her phone and called to give up on treatment.

And with that, the last flicker of guilt in Milton's eyes vanished completely.

He leaned in and gently kissed the corner of Rita's mouth. Then he turned to me, his gaze dark and venomous.

"You're not pregnant," he said quietly, his voice ice-cold.

Then, he called the doctors into the room. "Since Rita needs new skin… cut it from her stomach."

Without warning, he raised his foot and slammed it down on my abdomen, pinning me into the tight corner of the room.

"I'll do it myself," he said.

I froze—paralyzed. It felt like lightning had struck me. I couldn't believe he could be this cruel.

My eyes darted around the room in panic. My throat burned as it tightened, too choked to scream.

"Milton… I didn't lie to you. Please… don't do this," I begged, my voice trembling with sobs.

"Scared now?" he said with a cold chuckle. "Were you scared when you hurt Rita?"

Pure instinct kicked in. I curled around my belly to protect it, but he still thought I was faking. Without hesitation, he ripped open my hospital gown with his bare hands.

"There's no anesthetic in here. If Mrs. Jenning isn't actually pregnant, why not just use liquor as a substitute?" one of the doctors said, glancing at Rita.

Rita met his gaze and gave a slow, knowing smile.

"Let me go!" I screamed, thrashing wildly. But Milton had me pinned, his grip iron-like. I sobbed uncontrollably. "Milton, I'll die. Please!"

Rita took a few unsteady steps back as the words left my mouth. She covered her mouth as if heartbroken, her voice trembling with false innocence.

"Larissa, it's one thing if you want to take my life… but why are you using yourself to threaten Milton?"

Without hesitation, Milton snatched the liquor bottle from his assistant's hand and forced my jaw open.

"Larissa, actions have consequences. Rita's been slandered by you over and over. For just two pieces of skin? You're getting off easy."

Then he poured the entire bottle down my throat. The burn spread like wildfire through my stomach, leaving behind a numb, suffocating heat.

My arms flailed weakly in the air. I had no strength left to resist.

Shaking, I begged in a trembling voice, "I was wrong… please, just don't hurt the baby…"

Something flickered in Milton's eyes for a split second—hesitation, maybe. But then he looked over at Rita's tear-filled gaze, and his expression turned to stone.

Without another word, he took the scalpel.

"After the graft, I'll make sure you get the best recovery meds. Rita's kind—she'll forgive you," he said.

The scalpel cut deep into my belly. He didn't stop. His clothes were covered with blood.

Not until the inside was fully exposed—and he saw it.

He blinked hard, and his face went ghost-white. He staggered back a step, nearly crashing into the wall.

"No… that's not possible."

The assistant burst through the door at that exact moment, and Mr. Patton Senior followed right behind him.

"Milton! What the hell are you doing to the Patton family's savior?" Mr. Patton Senior demanded.