As she spoke, her voice pitched with worry.

"Alex, please don't be mad at Mr. Floyd. If you don't want me here, I'll leave right now."

She made a show of turning toward the door.

Before I could respond, Nathan yanked her back into his arms, then fixed me with a look of pure disgust.

"Alex, don't go stirring up drama when you've got nothing better to do. Vivian is my employee—taking care of her reflects the company's values."

"If you can't tolerate her, move out. This villa is mine. You're just a guest here."

I stared at him, stunned. Every word was an ice pick to the chest.

The home I'd poured my heart into, the place I thought was my safe harbor—I was nothing but a guest in it.

My eyes burned, and I finally understood how pathetic I'd been.

I took a deep breath and steadied myself.

"If Ms. Fox wants to stay, she can stay."

I turned to head back to the bedroom.

Nathan's voice cut through behind me.

"Pack your things and move to the guest room. Vivian's alone—if she gets a fever tonight, I need to be close."

I looked at him for a long moment. Aren't you afraid of catching it? The question died on my tongue.

I just said, "Mm," grabbed a blanket, and walked to the guest room.

I packed our wedding photo and all my toiletries into a suitcase.

Old things. A newcomer would find them an eyesore anyway—no point making myself unwelcome.

An hour later, the master bedroom was spotless. I'd even vacuumed twice. Not a trace of me remained.

The moment I straightened up, I made a call.

"Ethan, come pick me up."

When I dragged my luggage downstairs, Nathan's expression shifted.

"What scene are you making now? If you walk out that door, don't bother coming back."

I checked the time. Ethan would still be a while, and I had no desire to get into it with him.

"I'm just putting my luggage in the guest room. So Secretary Fox won't feel uncomfortable seeing it."

I pulled my suitcase toward the hallway.

Behind me, Nathan went rigid. He hadn't expected me to comply so easily. For a moment, he just stood there.

Vivian's voice floated over, perfectly timed.

"Mr. Floyd, Ms. Harding is upset. Maybe I should leave after all? I'll just suffer through the night alone—as long as you two don't fight because of me."

Nathan seemed to be convincing himself.

"She gets mad all the time. Give it a couple days, she'll get over it. What's she gonna do?"

Then, as if to prove a point, he ordered me, his face dark.

"Vivian's weak. Go make her something light and nutritious—porridge with sea cucumber."

They both turned to stare at me.

I wasn't going to engage. But I also wasn't going to waste more words. I turned and went to the kitchen.

I rinsed the sea cucumber and washed the rice, tuning out their laughter in the living room.

Nathan's hand slipped under the hem of Vivian's shirt. She squirmed against him, all coy and breathless.

I set the porridge and side dishes in front of them without a word, then turned to leave.

Vivian's voice stopped me.

"Alex, wash my bra for me? I have a cold—I shouldn't touch cold water."

My nails dug into my palms. I fought the urge to slap her.

The next second, Nathan grabbed that disgusting scrap of underwear, raised his hand, and flung it into my face.

"I tell you to wash it and you make that face? Think you're some kind of princess? You're nothing but a bedwarmer the Hardings sold to me."

It was like ice water dumped over my head. All the blood in my body froze.

Twenty years of humiliation, twenty years of endurance—it all ignited into grief and fury. I grabbed the hot porridge from the table and hurled it at them.

My eyes burned. My voice shook with rage.

"Nathan Floyd, why don't you both go to hell."

Vivian clutched her face and let out a piercing scream. "It's so hot! Mr. Floyd, it hurts—am I going to be disfigured?"

The air froze. Nathan kicked my thigh, and I crashed to the floor. Shattered porcelain sliced into my palm, my arm—

He turned away, pulled Vivian into his arms, cradling her face as he blew gently on her skin. "Vivian, it's okay. I'll get you the best cosmetic specialists. Nothing will happen to you, I promise."

I watched her burrow into his chest, sobbing softly. Slowly, I pushed myself off the floor, held out the divorce papers with my blood-covered hand, and said flatly, "Nathan Floyd, you really are something."

"Let's get a divorce."

I grabbed my suitcase and strode out of the villa.

His roar chased me to the door. "Alex Harding, you assault Vivian and then dare to bring up divorce? Fine—if you've got the guts, don't ever come back. Let's see who else would protect you for a lifetime like I did."

When I stepped outside, Ethan's car had just pulled up.

The moment he saw the food stains and blood covering me, pain flashed through his eyes. "Alex, what happened? Did that bastard Nathan hurt you?"

He moved toward the villa, ready to demand answers. I caught his arm. "Ethan, let's go. Consider it payback for his help."

I pulled out my phone, deleted Nathan's number, and blocked him on WeChat and QQ.

The suffocating weight in my chest finally lifted.

Ethan took me straight to the Suburban Villa. He prepared clean clothes, called a doctor to treat my wounds.

The porcelain shards came out one by one. Blood streamed down my arm.

I clenched my teeth and stayed silent.

Ethan held me, his voice raw with guilt. "I'm sorry, Alex. It's my fault. Back then, I was too powerless to stop any of it."

Ethan Walker. Executive CEO of the Walker Group, a billion-dollar empire.

We'd been kindred spirits once—him, the oppressed illegitimate son; me, the eldest legitimate daughter abused by her stepmother.

We used to hold each other and wipe away each other's tears, encouraging, comforting.

If Nathan hadn't offered me warmth back then, if I hadn't believed he'd give me a stable home, maybe I would have ended up with Ethan instead.

But I'd thought what we had was just sibling affection.

And Ethan had two legitimate older brothers above him. He couldn't even protect himself.

Until my wedding day. He burst into my room, eyes red, and stared at me for a long moment.

"Alex, if he ever treats you badly—come find me. I'll protect you, even if it costs my life."

That was when I finally understood. Ethan loved me. He just hadn't dared to drag me down with him.

After I got married, Ethan launched his counterattack.

His eldest brother was locked up for smuggling. His second brother was exiled abroad after a scandal involving another man.

Suddenly, Ethan was the Walker family's only untainted heir.

He started from the bottom. Year one: three consecutive stock-price surges. Year two: vice president. Year four: the old man had a stroke—and Ethan became the sole president, holding all power alone.

Outsiders whispered about schemes, marveled at his iron-blooded methods in eliminating his father and brothers one by one.

Ethan just smiled calmly and paid them no attention at all.

I pulled back my bandaged hand and smiled faintly. "Ethan, how could I blame you? I was the one who trusted the wrong person."

His jaw tightened. "I've known about Nathan's bullshit for years. The way he lets Vivian walk all over you while he stands by and watches. I wanted to come find you so many times, but I was afraid you'd—"

He didn't finish. We both knew what he couldn't say. That I'd be too lovesick to listen. That I'd choose to stay strung up on a dead tree rather than walk away.

That kind of blow—he wouldn't have survived it.

Instead of finishing, he gripped my shoulders and pulled me into his arms. "Alex, from now on, I won't let anyone hurt you again. Just give me one chance. Okay?"

I closed my eyes and leaned into him, humming softly in agreement.

Maybe we were two of a kind—both broken, both forged in the same fire. I shouldn't stake my future on any man. I needed to become strong enough on my own. Strong enough to make Nathan Floyd pay for that kick.

At the hospital, Nathan held Vivian and stroked her hair, but his mind was elsewhere. That blood-soaked divorce agreement. Alex's eyes—flat and lifeless, like she was looking straight through him.

Vivian didn't notice. She was still fanning her own flames. "Mr. Floyd, she's out of control. She actually hit me right in front of you. Who knows what she'll do behind your back. And using divorce threats to manipulate you? That's textbook playing hard to get."

Nathan shoved her away, suddenly irritated. For the first time, her voice grated on his nerves.

He strode toward the elevator. "Something came up at the office. Head home without me."

Vivian stood frozen, staring at his retreating back. What the hell? Normally when she complained about Alex, he'd coo and promise to put her in her place.

Just before the doors closed, she screamed after him. "Don't fall for it! If you go soft now, she'll walk all over you. She'll take the whole company!"

Nathan stared at his phone. His thumb hovered over my number. He pressed call.

"The number you have dialed is temporarily unavailable..."

His chest tightened. The restlessness clawed at him like a caged animal.

He dialed his father-in-law.

Gerald sounded confused. "Nathan? Alex isn't here."

Then his voice soured. "What did that damn girl do now? Don't worry—when she crawls back, I'll beat some sense into her. Spoiled rotten, that one. She just needs a firm hand."

Nathan barely heard him. His mind had already drifted—back to when she was eighteen.

Thin. Pale. Standing there with her chin raised after getting slapped across the face, refusing to crumble.

His chest seized.

When he'd first seen her like that, he'd wanted to protect her. That instinct had exploded back then, sudden and overwhelming.

He'd hesitated about marrying her. Of course he had.

But then she'd thrown herself in front of that car without a second thought—shoved him out of the way and taken the hit herself.

High society ran on calculations. Everyone weighed their own benefit first. But this stupid girl had nearly died for him without blinking.

That day, he'd sworn he would protect her. He'd make her the happiest woman alive.

And what had he done instead?

He thought of the kick he'd thrown today.

Nathan slapped himself across the face.