Half-threatening and half-coaxing, he squeezed my injured wrist.

"This time, you had better please Jenna properly and earn her forgiveness. Do you understand?" His voice dropped lower. "If you mess it up again, I really will hand you over to that buyer."

He just grabbed me and tossed me in the car, bridal shop bound, before I knew what was happening.

I said nothing. I only meant to retrieve the keepsake my mother left me, a piece of jewelry I had stored there so I could wear it on my wedding day.

Clinging to that thought for strength, I followed him silently.

When we arrived, Jenna stood there exactly as she had the first time we met, her head lowered shyly and her posture soft and frail. I looked closely for any sign of triumph or guilt after everything she had done to me, but her expression stayed perfectly composed.

Clinging to Michael's arm, she half-hid behind him and whispered, "Zoey, I'm so sorry. Are you glaring at me because you hate me?"

She looked up at him for protection.

"Zoey," Michael snapped sharply.

He pinched my injured wrist, lightly but with enough pressure to make my entire body flinch.

Pain shot through me.

I bit down and forced out, "No."

Only then did Jenna smile sweetly, her voice softening. "Zoey, let's go try on wedding dresses."

At her request, the clerk brought out the gown Michael had explicitly ordered for me. Jenna let out a delicate gasp and snuggled even closer against his arm.

"Michael, can I try on Zoey's wedding dress?" she asked, her voice trembling with rehearsed fragility. Her eyes turned red with fake sorrow. "I am already dirty. I may never have the chance to get married. This might be my only shot at wearing a wedding dress."

Michael's expression softened immediately, heavy with pity.

"Of course you can."

He turned to me then, a sharp warning in his eyes. I lowered my head and nodded silently.

"Great," Jenna chirped, her gaze drifting toward the necklace displayed next to the gown.

"Michael, this necklace is beautiful. Can you give it to me?" she asked sweetly.

Before he could respond, I stepped forward and picked up the necklace.

"I am sorry, this—"

"Of course," Michael cut in coldly. "Anything you want, I will give you."

He extended his hand toward me, his expression hard as stone.

"Hand it over."

A dull ache spread through my chest. I pressed my lips together and swallowed the pain.

"Michael, that necklace is my mother's keepsake," I whispered.

"So what?" He yanked my hand aside and ripped the necklace from my grasp. "Do not forget, you owe Jenna. Consider this necklace compensation."

My heart lurched. I reached for it again, desperate.

"Michael, punish me however you want. She can have anything else, but not this necklace."

The moment I raised my hand, Jenna screamed and fell backward.

"Zoey, why did you push me?"

"Jenna!" Michael shouted.

He shoved me aside to catch her.

My foot slipped. The world tilted violently around me.

I tumbled down the stairs.

Pain detonated through my body. My bones screamed as if everything had cracked apart. My vision flickered, fading in and out. A metallic taste filled my mouth, and I choked up a mouthful of dark blood.

Then everything went black.

When I woke again, I was lying in a hospital bed.

My colleague stood beside me, her eyes full of sorrow.

"Zoey, your pelvis was shattered," she said quietly. "We managed to save your legs from amputation, but paralysis was unavoidable."

I stared at the still lower half of my body as grief overwhelmed me with crushing force.

I broke down and sobbed.

If I were paralyzed, even if my hand healed, I could never step onto an operating table again.

My colleague wiped her eyes, her voice trembling with anger.

"Michael is a bastard. You are hurt like this, and he still doesn't care. But that woman sprained her ankle, and he called every available doctor to treat her."

She squeezed my shoulder gently. "Zoey, you do not deserve any of this."

If I had heard these words in the past, my heart would have ached uncontrollably.

Now, however, I was already broken, so thoroughly that nothing could stir even the slightest ripple inside me.

Wiping away my tears, I said quietly, "Help me process the discharge papers."

My flight leaves in three hours.

If I left now, I would make it in time.

More importantly, the disastrous bond between Michael and me needed to end once and for all.

With trembling fingers, I took out my phone and sent him all the evidence proving Jenna had framed me, including the lab report on the ointment.

After sending everything, I changed into my clothes, settled into the wheelchair, and prepared to leave.

Just as I reached for the wheel, the ward door burst open.

Michael stormed in with a rigid, unreadable expression and seized the handles of my wheelchair.

My colleague, who had been restraining herself for days, finally snapped. "Mr. Floyd, you finally remembered Zoey. Do you have any idea what she—"

"I know," he cut in sharply.

Then, with a cold, curling smile, he slapped me across the face.

Lacking strength in my lower body to hold myself steady, I absorbed the full force of the blow.

I fell from the wheelchair as horrified gasps filled the room, my head hitting the floor and blood spreading beneath me.

Michael sneered down at me. "I saw the things you sent me."

Shakily, I pushed myself upright and stared at him. "Why?"

Tears blurred everything. The heaviness in my chest made it difficult to breathe.

"I almost believed you," he said slowly. "For a moment, I really thought Jenna had framed you. But then…"

He pulled a box of syphilis PEP medication from his pocket and threw it at my face.

"Jenna found this in your bag. So tell me, why would you have this?"

My eyes widened in horror.

"Mr. Floyd, you have misunderstood. That's—" My colleague's younger sister managed only a few words before Michael kicked her so violently that she collapsed, unable to speak.

When I saw him raise his foot again, I cried out and lunged forward, trying to shield her.

Michael showed no mercy.

He stomped on me several times, each strike landing directly on my fractured pelvis. Cold sweat drenched my body as darkness gathered at the edges of my vision.

He grabbed my chin and forced my face upward, his expression twisted with disgust and disappointment.

"Zoey, you hid it well. Pretending to be pure and noble, acting like you were above everyone. I chased you for a whole year, and you would not even let me touch you. I actually thought you were a decent woman."

His voice sharpened.

"But it turns out you are filthier than anyone, worse than women who sell themselves. I kept wondering how a bit of ointment could infect Jenna. Now I know. You smeared your own filthy disease onto her and infected her yourself. And then you tried to push her down the stairs and break her leg."

"I didn't," I forced the words through clenched teeth.

Looking up at him, I pleaded, "That medicine is—"

"Enough," he roared, cutting me off. "You still want to lie to me? I won't believe another word!"

He flung me aside like trash.

"I used to think you gave Jenna substandard medicine, faked her test results, and spread rumors just to get back at me for missing the engagement. I even felt soft-hearted and thought I would scare you a little to make Jenna feel better."

His voice dropped, chilling and final.

"But I never expected you to do something this vicious, something not even an animal would do. This time, I will not be forgiving."

Michael cast one last look at me before turning away.

"We are breaking off the engagement. I will never marry a poisonous woman like you."

I closed my eyes and whispered, "All right."

His fists tightened, and his voice sank into a cold growl.

"You think that is all? You think I would let you go that easily? Jenna said you need to experience her pain. The man who messaged about taking you is on his way. I will hand you over later."

“Zoey, it is time you paid for your sins!” Michael’s voice cracked with fury as he threw the words at me.

He stared with a feverish intensity, as if desperate to see fear flit across my face, to watch me cry, beg, and crawl on the floor for mercy.

But I only lay there on the cold tile, eyes closed, my heart long since dead.

“Bitch!” he snarled.

Then, with one last look of disgust, he stormed out and slammed the door behind him.

For a few minutes, the room remained silent.

Eventually, the door creaked open again.

Bitterness rose in my throat.

Tears slipped from my eyes as I whispered weakly, “Paul, you are here…”

But when I opened my eyes, the silhouette standing before me was not the one I longed for.

Several men shuffled into the ward. Their faces were jaundiced, their skin marked with oozing sores and grotesque cauliflower-like lesions.

A stench of infection and decay rolled off them, filling the room, and standing behind them was Jenna.

A scream burst from my throat as I struggled to push myself backward.

With my legs paralyzed and my wrist broken, I could hardly move. Escape was out of reach.

Jenna watched me struggle before throwing her head back in laughter.

“Look at you,” she said, delighted. “You are like a dead dog. Pathetic and hilarious. You actually thought you could steal my man? Go die.”

She stepped closer, her eyes bright with cruelty.

“You probably do not know this. I was Michael’s first love. Back then, he took a hundred beatings for wanting to be with me. His legs were broken, and he still would not admit he liked me.”

She tilted her head mockingly. “You think he is marrying you because he loves you? Please, Dad said he would only let me come home once Michael got engaged. He had to choose someone.”

Her smile stretched wider, triumphant and vicious.

“And do you know why he chose you? Because your body looks the most like mine. He said that when the lights are off, being with you feels just like being with me.”

A violent ache squeezed my chest. Tears poured down my face.

A memory from our first night together came to mind. I accidentally turned on the lamp, and the room flooded with light.

Michael’s face changed instantly. He pulled away from me as if burned and hurried into the bathroom.

He stayed there for what felt like ages before coming out, awkwardly embracing me.

“Sorry, baby. First time. I just got nervous.”

At that time, I considered it lovely, maybe a little bashful.

I never imagined the truth behind it.

Seeing the life drain from my expression, Jenna clasped her hands together in glee.

“Take good care of her,” she told the men coldly. “Ruin her completely. Ruin her until Michael never wants her again.”

The ward door slammed shut behind them.

...

Just one wall away, in the next room, Michael sat stiff and motionless. Through the thin partition, my screams and sobs seeped in like poison. His hand involuntarily clenched at his side.

A soft hand slipped into his.

“Michael, do not worry,” Jenna murmured soothingly. “I told them only to scare her. Once she faints, we will send her to get treatment for her disease.”

Michael let out a low hum. He drew her into his arms and brushed a gentle kiss against the ends of her hair.

“Thank you for forgiving her, Jenna.”

His expression softened, warm and almost tender.

“I really do love her. I planned to marry her. But she refuses to accept you. Do not worry. I will send her to the treatment center. They will reform and discipline her properly.”

A sharp, vindictive glint flickered in Jenna’s eyes.

She rose on her toes and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips.

“Until Zoey comes back,” she whispered, “will you keep me company, Michael?”

Their lips were still entwined when a deafening crash erupted from the next room.

A heartbeat later, countless horrified screams rose from outside the building.

“Someone jumped! A doctor jumped! It is Dr. Williams!”