“You’re the one who said it—between us there’s no divorce, only widowhood.”

I leaned in close. “If Mr. Shaw can’t manage to kill me, then I’ll just have to kill both of you!”

Blood dripped onto the floor.

Only then did he notice that my hand had been cut while smashing things.

His grip on my shoulders gradually loosened.

“Good. I didn’t want that child anyway.”

He lifted my hand and gently wiped away the blood.

When the iodine stung my skin, he blew on it softly, the way he always did.

He’d long been used to treating my wounds this way.

Back when my father used to beat me black and blue, Ethan could only use alcohol to disinfect me. Even though he no longer needed to use alcohol now, he was always careful not to hurt me.

A bloody handprint marked his face.

“Stop. It’s dirty.”

His face tilted slightly, not arguing whether I meant the blood was dirty—or he was.

He simply called for Mr. Walker, the butler, and handed him the medical kit.

The girl’s name was Natalie Reed.

When I tried to investigate further, everything vanished without a trace.

I knew—Ethan was protecting her.

If I hadn’t acted quickly, I wouldn’t even have learned her name.

I confronted Ethan:

“You like her that much, that you’d even block information from me?”

He sighed. “Sophia, what’s the point of holding on to her?”

Once more, I threw the divorce papers in front of him:

“Sign them, and I won’t pursue her any further.”

The papers didn’t last two seconds in his hands before being ripped to shreds.

He flung the scraps into the air.

“I told you, between us there’s no divorce. Only widowhood.”

I laughed.

The next second, a wine bottle crashed against his head.

Red liquid slid down his face, impossible to tell whether it was wine or blood.

I grabbed the knife from the table and drove it toward him.

He caught my wrist in an iron grip, resisting my downward force.

“Ethan.”

Our faces were less than an inch apart.

“You really think I won’t do it?”

Our hands trembled, but I refused to yield.

“Divorce—or one of us dies.”

The standoff lasted only a few seconds.

Then, with a quiet laugh, he shifted the force toward himself.

My hand, trapped in his, sank the blade deep into his shoulder.

Blood splattered across my face.

“I told you, I won’t let you die before me.”

“Ethan!”

Through gritted teeth, I watched him release my hand.

“Do it, Sophia.”

I wrenched the knife free.

He groaned, blood covering my face.

The scent of iron pulled my mind back to that rainy night in high school.

I staggered and fell, but he caught me swiftly.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s okay, I’m here.”

His hand brushed my cheek gently.

Blood from his forehead dripped onto my face, one drop after another.

His eyes held no concern for his own wound, only worry for me.

On countless nights when my father beat me half to death, he had held me the same way. Shielding me with his back against beer bottles, chairs, even knives.

Grinning at me through the curses:

“Don’t be afraid. It’s okay, I’m here.”

We once embraced in blood, kissed in storms.

When love reaches its peak, betrayal becomes all the more monstrous.

I shoved him away.

“Don’t touch me.”

Stumbling, I left that room thick with blood.

For a time, we stayed apart.

And the girl—she remained sheltered under his protection, hidden beyond my reach.

But in the end, the girl was still young.

She couldn’t hold herself back and came to find me.

“Have you been looking for him lately? I’ll just tell you—he’s with me.”

Dressed in couture, she smirked triumphantly.

“You think that by ending my pregnancy, it’s all over?”

Leaning close, her smile was brimming with arrogance:

“As long as his love belongs to me, you can take away as many children as you want, he’ll only love me more.

“Lately, he’s been even more devoted. I should thank you for your help, sister.”

Her high-slit top revealed her flawless neck and the swell of her chest.

Countless hickeys declared again and again—

how completely Ethan had once adored this girl.

She pressed a hand to her flat belly, pride radiating from her expression.

“Too bad. I’m pregnant again.”

I calmly sipped my coffee. She plopped herself down on my custom-made sofa, propping her chin in her hands.

“I heard you’ve been married three years without a child.

“And when you finally had one…”

Her laughter rang sharp.

“Ha! You couldn’t even keep it!

“Sometimes, you really can’t blame men.”

The clink of porcelain against the table was followed by her scream.

The bodyguards watched in silence as Natalie clutched her stomach, blood seeping between her legs.

“Sophia Summers! You’ll die a miserable death!”

Her wails echoed as the bodyguards dragged her out.

“Sophia! Aren’t you afraid Ethan will take revenge on you?”

My fingers tapped lightly against the marble table.

“You need to understand, Mrs. Shaw is not a position won simply by having a man’s love.”

That night, Ethan returned.

With dozens of men, filling an entire floor.

He had never shown such force except against tough rivals.

This was his first time drawing battle lines against me.

We sat at opposite ends of the negotiation table, each backed by dozens of people.

“Twice now,” he said, his fingers tapping lightly against the marble surface.

“Sophia, you should apologize to her.”

“A fool who delivers herself to my door deserves to pay for her recklessness.”

Half of Ethan’s face was hidden in the dark, his expression unreadable.

“Does Mr. Shaw really think his wife so submissive, that she’ll sit quietly while a mistress walks in?”

The flare of a lighter cut the darkness, igniting the cigarette between my lips.

“Mr. Shaw, you should know—through all these bloody years in the New York elite circle, I’ve been bleeding beside you.

“To pit a canary against me—are you mad, or is she?”

Once more, I placed the divorce papers in front of him, exhaling smoke.

“This is your last chance.”

Moonlight cast across the marble table, hiding both our faces.

We stared at each other in the dark.

“Since childhood, you killed the beast who was my father, stormed through gates for me.

“I lost a child for you, bled myself dry for you.

“Mr. Shaw, let’s split clean—no debts between us.

“That would be the best outcome.”

“The best outcome…”

Ethan’s soft laughter echoed in the dark.

He picked up the divorce papers.

With the same lighter, he set them aflame.

The papers crumbled into ash.

“From now on, she won’t appear before you again.”

The ashes drifted with the wind.

He rose, leading his men in a grand departure from the estate.

A cramp seized my lower abdomen.

I bent over, clutching my stomach.

My men rushed to steady me.

“Ms. Summers!”

“I’m fine…”

My voice was weak. “Old problem.”

Since losing that child, the pain on rainy days had never really left me.

Even the best gynecologists couldn’t fix it.

Maybe my heart hurt too; this bout was worse than usual.

I went to the hospital on my own.

And walked straight into Natalie Reed crying and raging in a patient room.

“Why didn’t you kill her? For you, crushing a woman like that is as easy as crushing an ant!

“I want her dead! If you won’t do it, I will!”

She actually grabbed a knife and headed for the door.

Ethan Shaw seized her wrist and yanked her back.

The tip of the blade split his palm.

Natalie collapsed into his arms.

He cupped her face with his bleeding hand.

Tears in her eyes, chin tilted up by his grip, the two of them kissed—fiercely, hungrily.

The knife clattered to the floor. The air held only their breath and heat.

Once, Ethan and I had embraced in blood.

Now Natalie kissed him in blood.

The door opened.

Natalie saw me.

“Sophia Summers!”

She snatched the knife up—

then dropped it with a clang as I fisted a hand in her hair and forced her to her knees.

Ethan caught my wrist.

“Enough. Don’t lower yourself to her level.”

“Mr. Shaw, you’re the one who refuses to divorce.”

I stared at him, voice like a blade.

“Since you insist on calling me your wife, I’ll live up to the title.

“What is your ‘Mrs. Shaw’—some doormat anyone can kick around?”

Smack!

My palm landed hard across Natalie’s face.

“Sophia!”

His shout cracked the room.

He wrenched us apart.

Natalie’s sobbing filled my ears.

I tore my wrist free.

“I gave you your chance.

“If you won’t divorce, don’t blame me for what comes next—”

A stab of pain bit into my waist.

I spun on instinct and drove a kick into Natalie’s jaw.

She slammed into the wall; the knife she’d used to ambush me flew from her hand.

“Ah…”

Natalie clutched her abdomen.

Barely healed, her body started bleeding again.

“An ambush? Looking for death!”

I raised my hand for another slap—

but the strike landed on my own face.

Ethan towered over me, looking down, eyes colder than I had ever seen.

I touched my cheek and found blood at the corner of my mouth.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s okay, I’m here…”

He gathered Natalie into his arms,

letting her tears soak his expensive shirt.

The tenderness and panic in Ethan’s eyes—I’d only seen it once before,

on the day I lost our child.

That sunset had bled like an open wound.

He pressed my hand to his heart, eyes wet,

still forcing a smile as he stroked my face, repeating the words he’d told me a thousand times:

“Don’t be afraid. It’s okay, I’m here…”

But now, when he looked at me, his eyes held only ice.

“If you want a divorce, then divorce.”

I laughed.

I had failed to force this divorce even with my life.

Turns out, all it took was Natalie getting a little hurt.

A violent cramp knifed through me again—

worse than the day I lost the baby.

I doubled over; a shoulder slammed into mine.

Ethan carried Natalie out.

I fell to my knees.