"I know you're an ace divorce attorney. Please help me!"

A young woman who's holding a child suddenly barges into the law firm and gets down on her knees in front of me.

I'm about to help her up to her feet when a few live comments appear in front of my eyes.

"This really is a doomed story. I can't believe the FMC has to go through all sorts of torment before dying."

"Once she gets caught, both she and her child will be dead. The MMC can only spend the rest of his life in eternal remorse."

"The FMC is pretty naive, isn't she? She thinks finding herself an attorney can help her secure a divorce. The MMC is the richest man in Opalford at the end of the day, so there's no way she can file for a divorce successfully."

When I spot the next comment, its contents sting my eyes immediately.

"Unfortunately, this attorney is a throwaway character too. Not only does she refuse to help FMC, but she also fails to recognize her as her older sister, who has gone missing for many years."

My whole body jolted as the hand I had reached out to help the woman froze midair.

I did indeed have an older sister named Eleanor Norris who had gone missing in a park when she was five years old.

All these years, I'd pushed myself relentlessly—studying, earning certifications, climbing my way up, and throwing myself headfirst into the legal profession—just to gain the status and connections necessary to find her myself.

And the woman in front of me, who called herself Eliana Fraser, had the same shape of eyes and the same curve of nose. Even the subtle way her expression tightened when she frowned almost perfectly matched the blurry childhood photos sitting in my phone.

The child asleep in her arms looked even more like my sister when she was still a little girl.

Could those comments really be telling the truth?

I forced down the storm of emotions churning inside me and made my voice as gentle as possible.

"Please, get up first. The floor's cold. Whatever it is, we can talk it through slowly. I'm listening."

As I helped her to the couch for the guests, I raised my hand and brushed a stray lock of hair off her shoulder, as if without thinking. Then I discreetly tucked a strand of her long hair into my palm.

"Give me a moment. I'll get you a glass of warm water."

I turned and walked quickly out of the consultation room, heading straight for the break room. I took out a sterile envelope, plucked two of my own hairs, and carefully sealed them together with hers.

My assistant, Lily Boone, happened to be outside organizing case files. I shoved the envelope into her hand and lowered my voice.

"Take this to the DNA testing lab at Lakeside Hospital and ask for Dr. Talbert. Stay there and watch them do the test—don't leave for even a second. The moment the results are out, call me."

Lily had worked with me for three years. She instantly nodded and hurried off with the envelope.

By the time I returned to the consultation room, Eliana had started sobbing again.

"He keeps a very tight watch on me. My phone, ID, and bank cards have all been confiscated. There are cameras everywhere in the house. I don't even have a way to contact the outside world…" she said, choking on sobs. "I only managed to sneak out while he was in a meeting and the bodyguards weren't paying attention."

"He told me I'd never leave him in this lifetime. Even if I died, I could only die by his side. But my child, Zoey, is still so young; she doesn't understand anything. I can't let her suffer with me…"

She lifted her tear-streaked face, her eyes filled with desperate pleading.

"Ms. Norris, I don't want anything. The house, the money, the assets—I can give them all up. I just want a divorce. I just want to be able to take my daughter with me. Please, help me."

My heart tightened with a dull ache just looking at her.

The chat continued to flicker in front of my eyes, each of them reminding me that she was the FMC—female main character—of a tragic, doomed story. And I was originally meant to be an insignificant throwaway character who only needed to watch from the sidelines.

But I couldn't do that.

Whether it was my professional ethics as a lawyer or the almost instinctive pull of blood ties deep in my bones, there was no way I could just stand by and watch her plunge right back into the abyss.

I was just about to offer her some comfort and help her calm down when the chat suddenly went crazy again.

"The FMC is still crying? The MMC has already noticed that her location isn't at home. He's stopped an important meeting and is coming to get her himself!"

"The MMC is already downstairs! He'll be here any second!"

"Is this story finally going to reach its climax? I've got my popcorn ready!"

My heart sank, and a chill shot from my feet to the top of my head.

Darn it, how did he get here so fast?

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down.

Reaching under my desk, I pulled a blank retainer agreement and gently slid it in front of Eliana. Then I leaned in close to her ear, whispering my instructions one word at a time.

"Listen carefully. I'm going to step out. After I leave, lock this door from the inside. No matter who knocks or whatever they say, don't open the door for anyone but me. Do you understand?"

Eliana looked up sharply, her eyes misty as they fixed on me. Fear, helplessness, despair, and a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of hope twisted together in her gaze.

She didn't say anything. She just stared at me, then nodded heavily with every ounce of strength she had.

I stood up, opened the door, and stepped out.

After closing the door behind me, I deliberately lingered outside for two seconds. In the quiet hallway, I heard the crisp click of the door locking.

Almost at the same moment, a sudden commotion erupted from the reception area. The barely suppressed gasps of the receptionist were mixed with the sharp, heavy, and cold sounds of leather shoes striking the marble floor. The footsteps grew closer, closing in step by step.

The comments scrolled past my eyes again.

"He's here! That monster is finally here!"

"The overbearing MMC has officially entered the chat!"

I stood outside the consultation room, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst through my chest.

The commotion at the front desk grew louder. I didn't need to look to know that Eliana's husband, Darren Carney, had arrived at the firm.

Without looking back, I walked straight toward the reception area. After just a few steps, Steven Lewis, the director of the firm, called me urgently, his voice panicked.

"Evelyn, come to the main conference room right away. There's a very important guest who specifically asked to see you."

A scoff escaped me. An important guest? More like a lethal one.

I straightened my suit jacket, buried all the emotions in my eyes, then pushed open the conference room door with a blank expression.

Darren was seated at the head of the table. He wore a perfectly tailored, high-end custom suit. His demeanor was refined and aloof, his features sharp and striking. A gentle, perfectly measured smile played on his lips, making him look every bit the rising star of the business world, as well as a loving, devoted husband.

Seeing me walk in, he immediately got to his feet and extended his hand to me with polished elegance.

"Ms. Norris, I've heard so much about you. I apologize for the unannounced visit."

I gave him a brief handshake. All I felt on my fingertips was a piercing chill. There wasn't a hint of warmth to be found.

The chat went wild again.

"Wow! As expected of an award-winning-level MMC. With how refined and elegant he looks, who would guess he'd torture the FMC and the child to death?"

As if completely unaware of my distance and wariness, Darren let out a soft sigh. He picked up a neatly bound document and slid it toward me gently.

"This is Ellie's medical record. The diagnosis was personally issued by Dr. Bailey at St. Luke's Mental Health Center. Ellie's postpartum depression hasn't improved, and it's accompanied by severe persecutory delusions. She's convinced that I'm trying to hurt her and is always trying to run away from home.

"Did she tell you a bunch of weird nonsense today? I'm sorry for the trouble she's caused you."

I glanced down at the so-called diagnosis. It was printed on high-quality paper, with all the official stamps, and all the clauses were written professionally, without a single apparent flaw.

But I'd just seen Eliana with my own two eyes. Her thinking was clear, and her speech was coherent. Aside from extreme fear and helplessness, there weren't the slightest signs of mental instability.

The diagnosis was nothing more than a cheap tool Darren used to control Eliana and to silence all questioning voices.

Seeing that I still hadn't responded, his fingers moved slightly as he pushed a blank check to the center of the table. The amount line was empty; only his bold signature sat in the lower right corner.

"Ms. Norris, I know you have your own principles in this industry. You're not short on clients or money."

His tone remained gentle, but his gaze slowly hardened with unconcealed pressure.

"But she's my wife. I can't let her use her illness to disturb others. Consider this a consultation fee and a small token of my appreciation. I'd appreciate it if you stopped indulging her in this pointless game of divorce."

The comments from the chat continued scrolling.

"As expected of the richest man around—just throwing around blank checks like that. Why doesn't that kind of wealth ever find me?"

"This throwaway character really does accept it, which is why when she finds out the FMC dies later, she ends up killing herself from guilt!"

I lifted my eyes to meet Darren, my gaze calm and resolute, without the slightest hint of backing down.

"Mr. Carney, first of all, Ms. Eliana Fraser is mentally sound. She's fully capable of expressing her own wishes and is legally competent to do so. She's not the incompetent person you're describing."

I paused, lightly tapping my fingers against the table as my tone sharpened.

"Secondly, she has formally retained me for her divorce case. As of now, I'm her attorney. I'm responsible only to my client. I can't accept your check, nor do I recognize this medical diagnosis."

The smile on Darren's face didn't change in the slightest, but the temperature around him seemed to plummet sharply, and the air in the entire conference room seemed to freeze.

He spoke slowly, each word laced with undisguised threat.

"Ms. Norris, do you realize who you're refusing?"

I didn't respond. I just turned around and walked straight out of the conference room. I hurried back to the consultation room and knocked three times in the previously agreed-upon rhythm.

There was a brief silence inside. Then came the soft click of the door being unlocked.

Eliana poked her head out, her face still deathly pale. Only when she saw it was me did she let out a long breath of relief, quickly pulling me inside and locking the door again.

"How did it go? He… He came looking for me, didn't he?" she asked, her voice trembling.

In fact, her whole body was shaking as she clutched Zoey tightly.

I nodded. I quickly summarized what had happened, not hiding anything.

After listening, she forced a bleak smile onto her lips, her eyes filled with despair.

"I knew he'd do this. He's always been like this. Whenever I don't obey him, he calls me crazy and makes sure no one believes me."

She sniffled, wiping away her tears, but her gaze turned exceptionally determined.

"Ms. Norris, I don't want anything. The house, the money, all his assets—I can give it all up. I just want a divorce and custody of Zoey. I can sign the agreement right now."

The comments floated by.

"Classic angsty line. Screenshotting this!"

"The FMC is honestly so naive. But it's exactly that innocence that makes the MMC so insane and obsessed over her."

Respecting her decision, I immediately opened my laptop and drafted a very simple divorce agreement as fast as possible. There was no property division or dispute of financial compensation. It only stated that both parties voluntarily agreed to divorce, and the wife would get full custody of the child while also voluntarily relinquishing all marital assets.

After printing it out, I explained each clause to her, making sure she fully understood every word.

But she barely looked at it. She just grabbed the pen and signed her name on the line, as if she feared she'd lose her chance if she took too long.

The ink hadn't even dried yet when a deafening crash reverberated through the room.

Darren had kicked the thick, solid-wood door open from the outside.

The gentle, affectionate mask he had worn earlier was now completely torn away, replaced by a bone-chilling hostility. His eyes were dark and terrifying.