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.