###4

I kept my eyes shut.

He let out a sigh of relief and gently wiped the tears from my cheeks.

“Sweetheart, you had a nightmare. I’m here now. Don’t be scared…”

I frowned and instinctively turned away from the lips that had just kissed another woman.

His expression froze, then his eyes turned red, and his fists clenched in frustration.

“Ruth, I swear I’ll never let you suffer again.”

But haven’t all my wounds and pain come from you?

Just then, a soft, pitiful sob came from the floor, and Nate noticed Cassie lying there like a wounded little bird.

He immediately let go of my hand and rushed over to her, cradling her in his arms and gently massaging her bruised leg.

“Baby, I’m sorry. But we can’t let Ruth find out about us.”

Only then did he seem to realize the shamelessness of what they’d done—right here in my hospital ward.

He scooped Cassie into his arms and quickly left.

But what difference did it make now?

He had already shattered the love I had given him without reservation since I was sixteen.

Later, I received an email—a video sent by Cassie.

“Ugly pig, your husband is truly passionate.”

They were entangled again in the backseat of a car, not even bothering to fix their clothes.

I saved the file.

Evidence, straight from her. A woman parading as noble and refined, but in truth, a shameless thief of someone else’s fiancé.

I’m sure others will be very interested.

The next morning, Nate called.

“Sorry, Ruth. I just wrapped up some work. I’ll come back to the hospital to be with you.”

I replied coolly, “No need. I think Miss Cassie needs you more now.”

My distant tone made him pause.

“What are you saying, baby? I don’t understand.”

I took a breath and asked calmly, “Nate, where is our child?”

“She… she was born premature and didn’t survive. I’ve already had her buried. I’ll take you to visit the grave tomorrow, okay?”

A grave? Then what was that tiny lifeless body I pulled from a stray dog’s mouth?

Grief choked me, and I couldn’t speak.

Nate sensed something was wrong.

“When you’re discharged, let’s have the perfect wedding, okay?”

I forced the words through clenched teeth.

“Okay.”

But in my heart, I made a vow too.

There won’t be a wedding.

Only your funeral, Nate.

He soon arrived, holding a thermos, and knelt before me.

“I learned to make this chicken soup from an American chef. It’s great for recovery. Please, have some.”

I stared at the golden broth, my heart was cold.

Outside, I overheard nurses chatting as they passed:

“Miss Cassie is so lucky. Her boyfriend’s absolutely devoted.”

“Right? He even flew a chef just to help with her anemia. Stayed up all night making her soup!”

So this bowl—was just a test batch for Cassie.

I pushed the spoon away.

“I can’t drink it.”

Big tears rolled into the soup. Guilt shadowed Nate’s face.

He threw the bowl aside and slapped himself, hard.

“I regret it! I should’ve let you deliver the baby. Even if she was sick, I’m her father—I should’ve raised her!”

But it’s too late now.

And worse…

“Do you truly mean that, Nate?”

He froze when he saw my red, tear-filled eyes.

At that moment, his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen, then answered angrily:

“I told you—I’m with Ruth! Can’t you handle such a small issue yourselves, useless bunch!”

Hanging up, he turned to me.

“Something’s wrong at the company. I need to go.”

I grabbed his wrist, pleading,

“Please don’t go. Stay here. I… I need you.”

He averted his eyes.

“I’m sorry, love. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

He slowly pried my fingers off, one by one.

As he rushed out, I stared after him, filled with despair. Then I laughed quietly.

He thought I didn’t see the caller ID.

But I did. It was Cassie.

His choice was clear.

She always came first, didn’t she?

I hope you never regret this.

Because soon… you’ll understand.

I picked up the phone and dialed.

“We need to talk.”

###5

As expected, not long after Nate left, Cassie sent me another display of their affection.

This time, it was a video of him, Nate, busy in the kitchen—his back to the camera.

“He really loves me,” she cooed. “The moment I told him I was anemic, he dropped everything to take care of me.”

In all our years together, he hadn’t so much as toasted a slice of bread for me.

My fingers trembled as I furiously typed back, biting my lip to steady the rage.

“But he still doesn’t dare make your relationship public, does he? He only dares to sneak around with you.”

“Cassie Clay, you’ll always be his mistress—a sewer rat who doesn’t belong in daylight. Still think you’re the Detroit princess? No. You’re just a prostitute selling herself to survive.”

I turned off the phone and shoved it under the pillow, my chest heaving.

Days passed without any sign of Nate.

“I’m really sorry, Ruth. I didn’t expect things to spiral like this.”

“It’s fine. Do whatever you want.”

I kept my tone sweet and composed. He felt the chill behind it.

With guilt thick in his throat, he promised,

“I’ll take you to see the child as soon as I can manage it.”

“I said it doesn’t matter, Nate.”

Then I hung up.

His promises meant nothing. They were as cheap as the lies that dressed them.

Nate stared blankly at the busy tone.

Four days later, the bridal shop called. My wedding dress was ready.

My mother had commissioned it before she passed, hoping I’d be the most beautiful bride.

There was no wedding anymore, but the dress was a memory I still wanted to reclaim.

But when I stepped into the shop, there she was—Cassie—wearing my custom-made gown.

She twirled in front of the mirror, smiling sweetly, her eyes taunting.

“Your fat body doesn’t fit in this anymore, so I kindly helped you try it on. Even the groom helped—many times. You should thank me.”

My vision blurred red. I lunged and grabbed at the gown she’d defiled.

“Even if it’s trash, it’s mine! Cassie Clay, whether it’s a man or a dress, I’d rather throw them in the gutter than give them to you!”

Out of nowhere, she screamed and snatched a pair of scissors from the counter, slashing the dress—then her own palm.

“Ah!” she howled. “I was just helping her try on a dress, and she stabbed me!”

Before I could react, Nate stormed in.

He saw the shallow cut on Cassie’s hand and exploded.

“Are you insane? It’s just a dress! What’s wrong with Cassie wearing it? Did you want her dead? How vicious can you be!”

Vicious?

I stared at the shredded gown in disbelief, my breath ragged.

“This dress… was made by my mother!” I shouted, voice cracking.

“When you were just a homeless thug in Detroit, my mother took you in—raised you like a son! Without her, you’d have died in the gutter. She gave you everything you have. And this is how you repay her?”

I remembered back then—Cassie was a pampered heiress. One time, Nate accidentally stepped on her shoe. She had her bodyguards beat him.

But he never resented her. Instead, he said, almost dreamily, that he’d sleep with her one day.

I always thought he was joking.

I didn’t realize that conquering her had been his dream all along.

The anger made me dizzy. Nate reached for my hand, panicked.

“No, I didn’t mean that. I just… you went too far with Cassie.”

I shoved him away, voice like a blade.

“Right. I went too far. Go take your precious lady to the hospital. Hurry—her wound might miraculously heal if you’re fast.”

A heavy wave of disappointment crushed my chest.

He hesitated, but finally turned away.

Clutching Cassie’s hand, he left without another word.

“Yes. You’ll always choose her,” I whispered, hollow.

I knew this ending already. I’d accepted it.

So why does it still hurt so much?

I bit my lip, refusing to cry. But once his shadow disappeared, I couldn’t hold back.

The tears came all at once, along with a sharp pain in my stomach.

I looked down. The surgical wound on my abdomen had split open again.

I staggered out, breathing unevenly. I tripped over a stone, and just as I braced to hit the ground—

A strong arm wrapped around my waist.

He pulled me into a firm chest, steady and warm.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said softly.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to talk? I’m here.”

###6

The familiar yet slightly unfamiliar voice made me look up. Reflected in my blurred vision were the iconic black curls and the ever-cynical, striking face of Bert Lester. I clutched the arm of Nate’s sworn enemy and pleaded desperately.

“Bert, help me… kill Nate.”

He raised his brows. “Oh? So that’s why you came to me? The woman once head over heels for her fiancé now wants him dead?”

“Though I’d enjoy seeing that guy gone, if it’s a job, I don’t come cheap, Ruth.”

I blurted out, “I have money!”

Over the years, while Nate climbed the ladder of power, I helped him smooth the way—and in return, earned generous rewards.

Bert smirked. “But I’m not hurting for money. Right now, the most important thing is getting you to a doctor.”

He shoved me gently into the car. I was panicking. “Will you help me or not?”

“Let me think about it,” he said casually.

I expected him to glance at my belly, ask about the child, or demand an explanation for why I wanted to kill the man I once loved.

But he stayed silent the whole drive. Maybe he already knew everything. His network was far deeper than Nate’s.

The three of us—Nate, Bert, and I—grew up together in chaotic Detroit. But somewhere along the way, Nate and Bert became bitter rivals.

Eventually, Bert was taken in by his uncle White, head of the largest mafia in the U.S.

Since then, Nate considered him a mortal threat.

“Young Master, you think you’re so great? One day, I’ll make you bow to me!”

I still remember nineteen-year-old Nate, standing under the blazing sun, teeth clenched as he glared at the fading silhouette of the White family’s luxury car.

He kept that promise.

I had once admired him for it.

But now, those days felt like a distant past life.

After the doctor stitched my reopened wound, I slept deeply.

When I woke up, I found dozens of missed calls and unread messages from Nate.

“Darling, let’s get married next month.”

“I’ve hired the top wedding dress designer to rush the most stunning gown for you.”

“Call me, Ruth. I’m worried. You just lost the baby—it’s normal to be emotional. Cassie says she doesn’t blame you.”

I laughed through tears.

So now I’m supposed to be grateful she doesn’t blame me?

I’d imagined marrying Nate countless times. He always said, “Just wait a little longer.”

So I waited—ten years.

Now, he’s finally willing to marry me.

But it’s too late.

And far too disgusting.

I tossed my phone aside without hesitation.

The nurse came in to change my bandages. “Your husband stayed by your side all day and night. He just left not long ago.”

“What?” I sat up. “Nate was here?”

She shook her head and handed me a folded note from under the pillow.

I opened it.

“I’ve accepted your commission. Contact me again, Sleeping Beauty.”

It wasn’t from Nate.

It was from Bert.

My hand trembled as I crumpled the note.

I would make Nate pay with his life—and I’d never regret it.

I got out of bed and took a cab home to pack my things.

On the way, Lucas called. She said all the documents were ready. If Nate refused to sign the breakup agreement and split the property, we’d sue.

“Do it,” I said.

But at this point, the lawsuit didn’t matter much.

Still, I thought Nate would be thrilled to know I was making it easier for him and his beloved Cassie.

To my surprise, while I was packing, Nate returned—with Cassie beside him, both carrying bags.

“Ruth, what are you doing?!”

His eyes darted to the neatly folded clothes stacked beside me.

There was a flicker of confusion in his tone.