Three months pregnant and my husband’s newly hired secretary suggested the whole company play a murder mystery game.

When the scripts were handed out, the secretary was quick as lightning, snatching up the lead female role meant for me.

“Miss Brooks,” she said sweetly, “I grew up in the countryside and have never played anything like this before. Can I have this role?”

I was about to refuse, but my husband snatched it first and made the decision for me.

“Of courses you can, Peyton. I’m sure Allie won’t mind.”

With the lead role in hand, the secretary slapped me across the face as part of the “game.”

I was furious and was leaving.

But my husband, wanting her to have a more “immersive” experience, ordered the bodyguards to pin me down.

The secretary kept murmuring “sorry,” but her hands didn’t stop—she slapped me seventeen times in a row, then drove her foot into my stomach.

When I saw blood, I begged my husband to save the baby.

He only frowned. “Peyton faints at the sight of blood. I’ll take her to the hospital first. You’ve just gotten your period early—must you really make up lies like this to trick me?”

By the time a passerby got me to the hospital, the baby was already gone.

I felt dead inside. Without hesitation, I pulled out my phone and booked a ticket to leave the country.

——

The booking had just gone through when David walked in empty-handed, not a shred of remorse on his face.

“Allie, why are you in the hospital?”

I said nothing.

He sat down by my bed, picked up an apple, peeled it and held it to my lips.

“Peyton’s just a young girl. Don’t be too hard on her. She hit you because the game called for it. So…” his tone turned serious.

“I want you to withdraw the lawsuit against her.”

I froze. It took me a long moment before I could speak. “I didn’t file a lawsuit.”

His face darkened. “Don’t play games with me, Allie. Peyton told me she received your lawyer’s letter—what’s there to deny?”

Then, in a softer tone, “She’s just a young girl trying to make it in this city. Don’t be so petty with her.”

I turned to look at him, catching sight of an unmistakably intimate kiss mark on his collarbone.

Noticing my gaze, David quickly pulled his collar tight, forcing a laugh. “A mosquito bit me last night. I didn’t want you to misunderstand, so—”

Before he could finish, someone burst into the room and dropped to their knees beside my bed with a thud.

Peyton’s eyes brimmed with tears, her voice trembling in pitiful sweetness.

“Miss Brooks, please don’t sue me. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just heard that with these murder mystery games, you should follow the script… I didn’t expect it to be written like that.”

She lowered her eyes, biting her lip like some fragile beauty. “I know it’s all my fault. I’ll kneel to you if that will make it right. I’m just a poor girl from the mountains, with no connections or backing. This is the only way I know to apologize to you.”

Saying this, she shuffled backward on her knees, about to knock her head on the floor—but David yanked her up and glared at me with pure disgust.

“Allie Brooks, you’ve gone too far!” he snapped. 

“Peyton hasn’t done anything wrong. What right do you have to pick on her? Apologize to Peyton right now and drop the lawsuit, or don’t blame me for cutting off your mother’s medical expenses.” His disgusted glare lingered on mine. 

Watching the man I’d secretly loved for ten years stand on the other side, defending another woman, my heart twisted painfully in my chest.

I clenched the bedsheet in my fists. My voice was hoarse. “I told you, I didn’t sue her.”

A flicker of guilt crossed Peyton’s eyes before she suddenly stepped forward again, pretending to kneel.

“Miss Brooks, I know your family’s rich and powerful. I know you’ve never cared about people like us. But I… I really can’t take this kind of pressure. Please, don’t sue me.”

David caught her before her knees touched the ground, then turned to me, eyes bloodshot.

“Are you deaf, Allie? I told you to apologize. Did you not hear me? Do you still want your mother’s treatment paid for? Don’t forget—everything you have right now, you owe to me.”

I stared at the man who had once sworn to cherish me for life, never letting me suffer even the smallest grievance.

And here he was, standing beside another woman, forcing me to bow my head.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

Still, I held my ground. “Believe it or not, I didn’t sue her,” I started, “I had only just woken up. How could I have had time to file a lawsuit?”

When I caught the flicker of panic in Peyton’s eyes, the truth hit me. This was her doing.

But David didn’t believe me.

He was certain I was just refusing to admit it.

“Mr. Callahan, maybe we should just forget it,” Peyton said pitifully. “I must have done something to offend Miss Brooks. That’s why she doesn’t like me.”

Then, all of a sudden, her face lit up.

“How about I take care of her while she’s in the hospital—as a way of apologizing?”

David frowned at her words.

I kept my expression cold. “That won’t be necessary.”

But Peyton persisted.

With her back to David, her face twisted with malice. Then—she pressed down hard on my stomach.

Fresh out of a miscarriage surgery, pain shot through me so violently that my whole body spasmed and a scream tore out of my throat.

I shoved her hand away, my arms instinctively wrapping around my belly, but there was no life there anymore.

David stepped forward—not to protect me, but to shield Peyton. Then, without hesitation, he slapped me across the face.

“Have I been too soft on you, that you think you can do whatever you want? You’re just an orphan—how dare you bully Peyton?” His eyes blazed.

He then turned to Peyton, his voice gentle.

“Don’t be afraid, Peyton. I’m here. As long as I’m around, she won’t dare hurt you again.”

I stared at the bedsheets, already soaked in red, my hands trembling as I reached for the emergency bell—only for David to swat my hand away.

“Still pretending? Apologize to Peyton right now!” he barked. “Even if the King of England himself showed up, no one would dare save you unless you apologize to her!”

The wound had split open again; cold sweat drenched me, my face drained of blood, lips pale to the point of ghostly.

David hesitated, a flicker of pity crossing his eyes—

“Oh wow, Allie, you’re really something,” Peyton chirped suddenly, holding up her phone. “I knew you looked familiar. Turns out you’ve acted in those short web dramas before. Not like me—I couldn’t even fake a stomachache during military training.”

Her voice was all innocence, as if she were simply discovering my past, showing David old clips I’d once filmed for fun. I’d deleted them long ago, but fragments still floated around online.

The hesitation in David’s eyes vanished, replaced by outright disgust.

“I really don’t understand you,” he sneered. “All this drama just to avoid saying sorry?”

I wanted to tell him it wasn’t an act—that the pain was real—but he was already walking Peyton out of the room without a single glance back.

Through the haze in my mind, I caught his voice, “You don’t have to take care of her. She’s nothing but bad luck.”

When I came to again, a nurse was removing my IV. Her gaze was full of pity.

“Where’s your family, miss? You’ve had a miscarriage and been hospitalized and no one’s here to care for you?”

The thought of how David treated Peyton earlier sent a sharp, twisting pain through my chest—like thousands of ants gnawing at my heart, or a dagger stabbed right through my heart sending me a hellish pain. 

Maybe out of sympathy, the nurse shared some gossip she’s just heard. “I heard that there’s a big shot brought in the top medical team in the city to take care of a girl who faints at the sight of blood. And tonight, just to cheer her up, he’s lighting fireworks for her.”

Her words had barely landed when a loud boom split the night sky.

Colorful fireworks bloomed brilliantly above.

And just like that, whatever lingering attachment I’d had to David Callahan vanished without a trace.

Under the dazzling fireworks, my phone rang—it was the hospital. They told me my mother had passed away due to lack of proper medical care and asked me to come claim her body.

The phone slipped from my fingers. My body went rigid, my mind buzzing blank.

I’d secretly loved David for ten years, been in a hidden marriage with him for three.

At first, I was just a tool for him to fend off another family’s pressure. But later, I gave him my best—loyalty, support, everything—and in time, he developed feelings for me.

When we finally spoke our hearts, I thought I’d found the light at the end of the tunnel. I saw so many futures with him.

Even if he didn’t understand romance.

Even if he wasn’t the type for grand gestures.

I stayed by his side without complaint, handling everything behind the scenes for him.

Three years and I never received even a single bouquet of flowers, while Peyton got her own personal firework show in just three months.

I don’t remember how I got out of bed, or how long it took me to walk from the general ward to the morgue.

My hands trembled as I lifted the white sheet. My mother lay there, peaceful, almost smiling.

A nurse walked in and handed me a folded note. “Your mother left this for you.”

I unfolded it, tears soaking the black ink on white paper. My eyes fell on the last line.

Allie, I don’t want to be the shackle that holds you back. You were meant to be free, not to keep bending yourself for my sake. Go fly, my little girl. I will always love you.

After the nurse left, I pulled out my phone and saw my plane ticket had been canceled—three hours ago.

The moment I rebooked it, David called.

I could hear fireworks popping in the background. His voice slid into my ears, every word sharp and deliberate.

“Allie, stop being childish. Once I wrap up work, I’ll take you to Europe for a vacation. And really—buying an oversea ticket without me? I don’t want you being sneaky like this again, understand?”

For a moment, that familiar teasing lilt in his voice made my chest tighten in a way I hated.

He used to talk to me like this all the time—back when he stayed by my side every day, when we couldn’t bear to part even for a moment.

But then Peyton’s voice cut in, bright and sweet.

“David, can I sleep at your place tonight? Please?”

My fingers clenched around the phone until my knuckles went white. I stayed quiet, listening.

Then came the dead tone—he’d hung up.

When I checked, the ticket was canceled again.

Something was wrong. Ignoring my body’s pain and the doctor’s protests, I forced my discharge papers through.

Under a pale moon, I finally found a shop that could check my phone after two hours of searching.

The clerk glanced at it and whistled. “This looks like a top-level intrusion system. Miss, did you offend someone from the Callahan Group?”

I never imagined David would use that technology on me.

I’d been the one to help him solve its final flaws back when he was still developing it. It had secured his standing in the Callahan Family.

I’d even joked once, asking if he’d ever use it on me. 

And he had said never.

The ride back to the villa took half an hour.

In that time, my phone’s trending feed never stopped—

#Breaking! Downbury’s most eligible bachelor, Mr. Callahan, sets off fireworks for his beloved#

#Exclusive! Callahan’s grand fireworks proposal—sweet enough to melt#

There was a video attached. My finger twitched before tapping it open.

David was on one knee before Peyton, gazing up at her with open affection.

He said he couldn’t help himself and had to confess.

She said she’d already liked him for a long time.

The comments were full of congratulations, begging for a piece of wedding cake.

I stood frozen. David had never proposed to me like that.

Because he’d said, “We’re a contractual marriage. You’re just here to help me fight my family. Don’t expect more.”

And when we fell in love for real, he’d said, “Silly girl, you own my heart and my soul. Why do you care about those meaningless rituals?”

Now I understood.

If someone won’t take your hand in marriage, they were never the one.

By the time I got home, pale-faced, the smell of spicy fish filled the air. The sharp scent made me cough violently, saline from my IV still stinging my throat.

At the dining table, Peyton looked up as if only just noticing me. “Oh, Allie, you’re back.”

Then she turned to David, her tone coy. “David, did you tell Allie you were cooking, so she’d show up just in time for dinner?”

“If you’d told me sooner, I would’ve saved her the chopping work. Then maybe I wouldn’t have been so clumsy and cut my hand.”

She held up her hand with its cutesy cartoon Band-Aid, her gaze toward me full of smug triumph.