Eight months pregnant, I went to Everett’s office to deliver some documents.

The temperature inside was scorching 46°C. Just as I reached to turn on the air conditioner, his secretary stopped me.

"Ma’am," she said sweetly, "I’m on my period. I get cold easily—please don’t turn it on."

I glanced sideways at her. My baby was growing inside me, and the heat could cause a heatstroke. Without saying a word, I turned the AC on anyway.

That evening, Everett came back from a business dinner and burst through the door, already furious.

"Laura, Maeve is on her period! Do you even realize those 38 minutes and 19 seconds of cold air sent her to the ICU with severe cramps?"

I stared at him in disbelief.

"Everett, are you mocking me just because I don’t have a period? I’m eight months pregnant! And if I get heatstroke, that’s not just discomfort—it could be fatal! Are you drunk?"

He curled his lips into a mocking smile and nodded. "You're right. That was foolish of me."

That night, he comforted me as usual, whispering sweet nothings until I drifted off to sleep.

But when I woke up, I was no longer in my bed. I was in a walk-in freezer—surrounded by walls of glass on all sides.

Outside the glass, a group of second-generation elites laughed and pointed at me. Everett stood among them, his arm was wrapped around Maeve’s slender waist. They looked at me and chuckled.

"Afraid of heatstroke?" he sneered. "Then let’s cool you down properly tonight."

My heart sank.

Calmly, I pulled out my phone and snapped photos of everyone outside. Then, I dialed a number.

“Dad,” I said coldly, “I don’t want any of these people to see the sunrise tomorrow.”

——

There was silence. Then I hung up.

The laughter around me exploded.

"Laura, your dad was thrown into the open sea and was fed to sharks six months ago. Have you frozen your brain? Or were you always this stupid?"

"Still pretending to be the Richardson family’s heiress? Even in your wildest dreams, you wouldn’t dare imagine that anymore."

Everett watched proudly as his cronies mocked me. He took off his fur coat and draped it gently over Maeve’s shoulders, then walked slowly toward the freezer.

He tapped on the glass with his index finger and smiled coldly.

“Laura, are you cold now? Do you realize your mistake?”

The red thermometer outside reads -50°C.

I was shivering from the cold, still dressed in the thin pajamas I’d worn to bed the night before. My skin, where it touched the icy ground, had turned blue and numb. The cold pierced like knives.

Shivering violently, I stumbled to the glass wall and slammed a fist against it.

“Everett, what did I do wrong?! It was 46°C inside—I just turned on the air conditioner! Pregnant women are more vulnerable to heat. If I had collapsed, it would’ve been two lives lost!”

Suddenly, a sharp pain twisted through my abdomen.

I clutched my belly and crouched down, eyes bloodshot as I glared at him.

“Everett, let me out! You know exactly how much I’ve suffered to carry this child. I cannot lose him!”

A flicker of emotion passed through his eyes.

He, of all people, knew the pain I’d gone through.

An accident years ago left Everett infertile. For eight years, I endured thousands of hormone injections the length of my forearm just to extract viable eggs. Only after all those years had we finally conceived.

Eight months of careful bed rest. I had done everything to protect this baby.

I still remember how furious he was once when a servant brought me brown sugar water that wasn’t warm enough, he broke her arm.

But now, for Maeve’s period, he didn’t hesitate to lock me in a freezer.

My chest tightened with bitter despair. Just as I opened my mouth to speak again, Maeve pulled off the fur coat Everett had just given her and clung to his arm with tears brimming in her eyes.

“Everett, let your wife out,” she said softly. “She’s delicate and frail. She won’t survive this... Unlike me—I’m just a poor girl who’s used to hardship. I’ve fainted in freezing rooms before, and I didn’t even dare complain...”

Fainted from the cold?

All I did was turn on the air conditioner for thirty minutes. When I left Everett’s office, Maeve was still smiling, making plans with her girlfriends to hit the bar that evening.

I opened my mouth to explain—but Everett’s expression became indifferent in an instant. His voice dropped several degrees colder.

“Someone get in there and strip off her coat! Isn’t she supposed to be delicate and pampered? Then let her experience how kids from poor families suffer!”

He bent down to pick up the fur coat.

With a gentle touch, he draped it over Maeve’s shoulders and glanced at me with icy contempt.

“You can come out when you finally realize your mistake. The doctor said our son is perfectly healthy. Don’t think you can use that baby as an excuse to escape punishment.”

With that, he swept Maeve into his arms. His voice softened, dripping with tenderness.

“Maeve, you’re on your period—your feet must stay warm. Just stay in my arms. Let’s see who dares complain now.”

As soon as he sat down with her in his lap, a group of men walked toward me with cruel smiles.

I shrank into the corner, clutching my thin nightgown tightly. But no amount of resistance could match the strength of several men.

Seconds later, the thin fabric was torn into two.

In an instant, a rush of cold air pierced through my skin, seeping into every pore.

Laughing excitedly, they stripped the rest of my gown. When they walked out, they laughed with Everett as if they'd just come from a game.

“Damn, Everett, you really know how to enjoy life. Your wife’s figure is incredible—she’s not shy at all!”

“Thanks for letting us take such good care of her!”

I was left wearing only my undergarments, curled up on the freezing ground. The warmth of my skin clashed with the ice beneath me, tearing at my flesh with every move.

Blistering pain pierced through me—raw skin ripped open, blood slowly seeping out.

Bright red against the glowing white of the freezer floor.

Everett noticed it. He gently set Maeve down and stepped forward, eyes locked on the growing bloodstain trailing toward his feet.

Before he could speak, Maeve rushed over and pressed her hand against the glass, trembling as she saw the blood.

“Please, Laura... just admit you were wrong,” she pleaded, her voice shaking. “There are so many of Everett’s friends watching... if you don’t, he won’t be able to let you off easily.”

I stared daggers at her.

“Why should I apologize? I saw how comfortable you were under the AC that day. You even made plans with your girlfriends to go out—”

Everett’s gaze flicked toward Maeve—there was a flash of doubt in his eyes.

But before I could finish, Maeve slapped herself across the face with a loud smack, then dropped to her knees with a dramatic thud.

Grabbing Everett’s hand, she sobbed, “Everett, I just can’t bear to watch her suffer like this... If she still won’t admit her mistake, then I’ll kneel here outside with her!”

The moment Maeve knelt down, all traces of suspicion vanished from Everett’s eyes.

He bent quickly to lift her up, his face twisted in disgust as he turned back to me.

“Laura, you’ve really been spoiled rotten. Maeve has always endured your arrogance in silence. Now you’re clearly in the wrong, yet she’s still worried about saving face for me—and she’s willing to suffer for you!”

“You don’t deserve her compassion.”

“Tonight, I’m going to crush that pampered temper of yours. If you don’t admit you were wrong, don’t even think about coming out!”

He turned and gestured to the men behind him.

“Bring in more ice blocks. Surround her with them. Pour water over her too—I want her frozen to the very walls!”

He hadn’t even finished speaking when...

Just then, a girl tugged nervously at Everett’s sleeve.

“Everett, pouring water over ice will make it stick to skin like glue,” she said timidly. “If she moves even a little, her flesh will tear. She’s due any day now—something terrible could happen...”

His hand, mid-gesture, paused in the air.

He hesitated.

But before the moment could shift, a soft, pitiful voice came from behind him.

“Everett... let it go. My time in the ICU wasn’t as unbearable as you imagine...”

Maeve’s words instantly turned his hesitation to stone. His gaze darkened.

The hand he had paused slowly lowered as his voice turned cold again.

“Do exactly as I said.”

The young girl opened her mouth to protest again, but Everett waved her off.

“What she’s going through is nothing compared to what Maeve suffered. I already have an ambulance waiting outside—what could possibly go wrong?”

With that, she fell silent.

Now emboldened by Everett’s command, the men returned to the freezer—this time, carrying even more blocks of ice.

One of them grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking me upright. They surrounded me with slabs of ice, building a wall around my body.

Then, a basin of icy water was dumped over my head.

The next second, my skin adhered to the ice like glue—bonded by freezing water. Each breath burned my throat. Each pore pulled tight with searing pain as the cold seeped into my bones.

I glanced at the clock.

I’d been trapped in the freezer for over five hours.

My limbs had turned dark purple from the cold.

To shield my unborn child, I tried to shift my body slightly—to find a posture where my stomach might retain some warmth.

But every tiny movement ripped more of my flesh from the ice.

The baby’s movements inside me had grown faint. Alarmingly faint.

I gritted my teeth, ignoring the raw pain as chunks of skin tore away. Slowly, I maneuvered my body to shield my belly as best I could.

Bright red blood began to smear across the crystal-clear ice.

By the time I managed to reposition myself, the once-clear ice around me was stained a ghastly crimson.

The laughter outside died.

Even the jeering men, who had earlier mocked me, fell silent at the sight.

Through the blur of blood and frost, I glared at Everett and screamed hoarsely, “Everett! If anything—anything—happens to this baby, then you, his biological father, are his murderers! I swear I’ll pray day and night to his spirit—so that you never know peace!”

His expression wavered.

The steel in his eyes faltered as he stepped closer, peering through the blood-fogged glass.

Then a shout rang out behind him.

“Everett! My dad just said—there’s a plane on the Richardson family’s private air route!”

Everett’s face drained of color. His expression twisted with panic and fury.

He pounded his fist against the glass, roaring at me. “Laura! What the hell is this?! You think you can scare me with your Richardson family name forever?!”

Before I could answer, Maeve rushed to his side, gently rubbing his back and shooting me a look that combined hurt with quiet blame.

“Laura, if you won’t admit your mistake, that's fine. But why must you torture Everett like this?” she said, tears glimmering in her eyes. “You know how much suffering he endured back when Mr. Richardson was alive. Now he’s gone, and the Richardson family’s wealth has long been sold off. What’s the point of staging this farce?”

Then she gently tugged Everett’s hand, her voice like a breeze as she added, “Let it go, Everett. Let her out. If something really happens to the baby, we’ll be the ones blamed. It’s not like she ever cared about us lowly nobodies anyway.”

Her words didn’t soothe him—they only fanned the flames.

His eyes lit with renewed rage. He spat out a curse, then snapped toward his men with a roar. “Turn the freezer down to negative 100 degrees! Do it—now! ”