Yvette was yanked a little too hard and lost her balance, causing her to fall to the ground. She accidentally knocked over a nearby coffee cup, and a shard of glass sliced her palm.

When Elton saw that she was injured, he immediately stopped the meeting, in front of everyone. He walked over and grabbed her hand to scrutinize the wound.

He coldly asked, "Who did this to her?"

Elton's subordinate went pale with fear.

I knew precisely what Elton was capable of when it came to punishing people. But I also knew that he'd never lay a hand on me.

So I stepped forward and took the blame. "I did. So what? She had it coming."

Yvette's eyes brimmed with tears as she leaned into Elton's arms, her expression full of wounded pride. She cried, "You're right! I brought this on myself. I fell for someone I shouldn't have, and now I'm humiliated and called a homewrecker."

Elton gently stroked her hair and comforted her, saying softly, "Don't be upset. It hurts me to see you like this."

Elton really did treat her differently.

I averted my gaze, no longer wishing to see them. I composed myself to make my request. "Today is my birthday. For my gift, I would like five million dollars."

I always thought that this was amusing. Despite being his wife, I always had to go through his secretary whenever I needed money.

This time, when the funds didn't appear in my account, I decided to visit him in his office. That's when I discovered that he had already replaced his senior secretary.

Before we got married, the deal was simple—he wanted me, and I wanted his money. Elton had always hated that I was materialistic and that I didn't love him.

In the past, no matter how much money I requested from him, he always obliged me without hesitation. Yet, this time, he sneered, "You want money? Fine. Apologize to Yvette first."

This was the first time he used money as a means to control me for the sake of another woman. It seemed that he planned to spend five million dollars to buy my pride and make Yvette feel better.

I clenched my fists. After a long silence, I suddenly let out a quiet laugh.

Suppressing the pain coursing through my body, I turned and walked away. I no longer wanted the money.

Still, I wondered if Elton would regret not realizing that the money could have bought me more time and alleviated my suffering before I died.

Thus, I returned home alone, the relentless pain from cancer forcing me to curl up in bed. Lacking the funds for medication, I resorted to taking sleeping pills, trying to deceive myself. As long as I stayed asleep, the pain would disappear.

After I fell asleep, I had a dream about a time when I was 18. Elton was still poor but loved me deeply. On my birthday that year, we couldn't afford a cake and could only envy others as they celebrated theirs.

Elton hugged me tightly, hiding the tears in his eyes. He promised me, "One day, when I have money, I'll give you all the good things in the world."

At that time, I felt like the happiest woman in the world.

In a sleepy haze, I heard my phone ring. I picked it up, and a deep, familiar voice said my name. "Hedy."

I smiled and replied tenderly, "Elton… I want some cake."

The sleeping pills wore off in the middle of the night, and the pain woke me up. That was when I realized that Elton had come home.

He hadn't been home in a long time. He had purchased a villa for Yvette, where they lived together like a typical married couple.

Elton leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, a wine glass in his hand, and looked at me with a tenderness that I hadn't seen in a long time.

As I walked past him in search of some painkillers, Elton suddenly grabbed my hand and asked, "Hedy, why have you lost so much weight recently?"

His tone was full of concern, as if he still loved me.

But I refused to believe it, especially since he seemed to have just come from another woman's bed. I pulled my hand away and replied with disgust, "That's none of your business."

Elton was abruptly shaken off, and his expression turned cold in an instant.

When I entered the living room, I saw a cake with lit candles on the table. That was when I realized that the phone call had been real.

I had mentioned my craving for cake, and that very night, Elton went out to get one. I couldn't help but wonder if this was his attempt to atone for forgetting my birthday.

But I was dying. I didn't need cake, and I certainly didn't need Elton anymore.

I didn't spare the cake a second glance.

Elton frowned and grabbed my hand. "Hedy, are you messing with me? Or are you mad that I forgot your birthday? I didn't actually forget. I just—"

He tried to explain that work had kept him busy and that he'd planned to be with me after wrapping things up.

However, I cut him off harshly, "That's right. I'm messing with you. So what? You're pathetic. I said I wanted cake, and you ran out to buy it. You're just as pathetic as you've always been!"

I brought up the past on purpose, as those were the moments Elton wished to forget—the ones that he felt the most humiliated by.

He grabbed my collar and pulled me closer. Then, he lifted me and tossed me onto the bed.

He was furious, and his kiss was rough and angry. I could feel my lip splitting under his teeth.

I snapped, "Elton, what the hell is wrong with you? Don't touch me. You're disgusting!"

However, that only made him angrier. He bit down on me, hard, and growled, "Hedy, would it kill you to just show a little softness with me? Do you have any idea how many years I've been kept waiting?

"I'm waiting for you to come around, to say something, or to try. Do you know how happy I was when you said you wanted cake?

"I dropped everything and rushed out to get it for you! And now you're telling me that you were just messing with me?"

He fought to suppress the tears in his eyes as he gazed at me intently. Hidden in the shadows, I remained silent, offering no reply.

The standoff between us dragged on. Neither of us was willing to back down.

At last, Elton let out a weary sigh. "Hedy, what am I supposed to do with you?"

He leaned down, drawing nearer and nearer. Just as his lips were about to meet mine, the piercing ringing of a phone shattered the stillness.

Elton frowned. It was a call from Yvette. He hesitated but eventually answered it.

Yvette said, "Elton, I'm at a bar alone… Someone just tried to hit on me, and I'm scared. Are you really going to abandon me for Hedy? Elton, please come pick me up, okay?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he just stared at me. "Hedy, ask me to stay. Just say it, and I'll stay. I won't ever see her again."

There was a hint of pleading in Elton's voice.

But I said, "Elton, you don't deserve it."

He let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh before speaking into the phone. "Yvette, I'm coming to get you."

Then, he grabbed his jacket and slammed the door on his way out.

I watched him leave and thought, "Six days left."

The next day, news emerged that Elton had fought over Yvette. For the first time, the Mafia boss himself had made headlines because of a woman.

A few reporters were camped outside the door, swarming me with questions the moment I stepped out.

"Hedy, as Mr. Carter's legal wife, what are your thoughts on what happened last night?"

"Were you aware of her existence?"

"Hedy, seeing Mr. Carter spoil someone else, do you ever feel like it's your fault?"

I hadn't planned to respond, but when I heard the last question, I stopped in my tracks. I commented, "The real issues lie with the unfaithful man and the homewrecker, not with me."

However, the female reporter kept pressing, walking quickly to keep up. She said, "I heard that you dumped Mr. Carter back when he was penniless. Then, after he became a powerful Mafia boss, you did everything you could to make him marry you.

"You've been clinging to the title of wife all this time, and now that he's found true love, you call her the homewrecker. Don't you think that you're the problem here?"

I sneered and took the intern reporter's ID badge from her neck. Her name was Nicole Scott.

I asked, "You're Yvette's friend, aren't you?

"Is this the twisted version of the story she fed you? Elton forced me to marry him back then. Do you think that I wanted to be his wife?"

Her expression shifted as she snatched her badge back. "If you really didn't want to marry Mr. Carter, then why not divorce him now that he's found true love?"

I intended to seize this opportunity to pressure Elton into a divorce in front of the media. But just as I was about to speak, my nose unexpectedly started to bleed.

Nicole remarked, "Oh, sure. You're not desperate to keep him? You're bleeding from the nose out of anxiety!"

I wiped away the blood calmly and replied flatly, "I'm not anxious. I'm just sick—dying, actually. The nosebleeds have been happening a lot lately."

Everyone fell silent when they heard that. No one asked me anything else, except for Nicole, who continued to press further.

She said, "Oh, come on. A little nosebleed and now you're playing the victim?" She spoke with the same grating self-righteousness as Yvette.

The next day, the video of me being surrounded by reporters spread across the internet.

Elton responded, "There will be no divorce. Stop bothering my wife."

Meanwhile, Yvette's intern friend, Nicole, was fired before her internship ended.

With Elton's so-called "loyalty" on full display, I came off as dramatic and unreasonable in comparison. Soon, I received a surge of online hate.

"Hedy is disgusting. If she didn't want to marry him, she should've just said no. She claims that she was forced. Really? She clearly doesn't want a divorce."

"First love? She's just another bitch. And Elton still defends her? She's not worth it."

Just then, a comment stood out from the sea of criticism.

"You people don't know the truth about what really happened back then. So who are you to judge her? You have no idea how much she's been through!"

I glanced at the profile picture and realized that the comment was left by my close friend, Daisy Harrington.

Everyone began demanding to know the truth about what really happened back then.

In fact, the truth was… painfully cliche.

That year, my mom, Elena Miller, was diagnosed with a terminal illness, and the treatment for that required an enormous amount of money. Worse, it was a hereditary disease.

I was still young at the time, so my symptoms hadn't shown yet. But as I got older, the chances of me developing the same illness were high. And even if I had children someday, they'd likely get sick too.

The day Mom collapsed from her illness, she fainted on the spot. When she woke up in the hospital, the first thing she said to me was that I had to break up with Elton.

I froze, then shook my head. "Mom, Elton won't turn his back on me. We don't have to have kids."

I said it not just for her, but to convince myself as well.

She held my hand tightly and said, "I know Elton wouldn't abandon you. He's a good man. But have you ever thought about him?

"If he finds out that we're both sick, he'll work himself to death trying to pay for treatment."

Mom urged me to break up with Elton early, before it got too difficult for either of us to let go.

That day, I was quiet for a long, long time. In the end, my voice trembled as I whispered, "Mom… I don't want to lose him."