Davon and Natalie's wedding was held three days later. Pink balloons, roses, and champagne towers lit up the venue like a dream.

Natalie wore a white gown and flawless makeup, her arm linked with Davon's as she smiled softly. He was dressed in a white suit, standing tall and proud, just as I remembered him being all those years ago.

That was the man I had loved for 10 years…and he was holding someone else's hand, about to make a lifetime of vows to her.

"Mr. Davon Parker, do you take Ms. Natalie Rivera to be your wife, to love and cherish her through good times and bad, in sickness and in health, for the rest of your lives?"

Davon's voice was steady and filled with emotion. "I do."

My heart twisted like a knife had been driven straight through it.

"Ms. Natalie Rivera, do you..."

Just then, a message flashed across the large screen behind them in blood-red letters.

[Natalie Rivera, you stole my husband. I hope you die from your illness soon!]

[You're a cheap tramp who deserves to rot in hell!]

The letters glared like fresh blood, and the entire room froze.

Natalie's face went pale as she screamed and collapsed into Davon's arms.

"Evelyn Rivera!" Dad stormed over with fury and slapped me hard across the cheek. "You're despicable! Nattie is already sick. How could you curse her like that?!"

I touched my face as tears welled up in my eyes. "I didn't..."

I tried to explain, but nobody believed me.

Davon gave me one cold look, swept Natalie into his arms, and walked out. His voice was ice-cold as he hissed, "I'll deal with you when I get back."

I stood alone in the middle of the grand wedding venue, left to endure the polite yet cutting stares from the crowd. I thought that would be the end of it, but that very same night, someone anonymously posted a series of damaging posts about Natalie online.

[Mafia Boss's Marriage Sabotaged by Love Triangle], [The Mistress Is the Ex-Wife's Sister], [Parents Playing Favorites].

Each headline was uglier than the last.

Natalie's social media accounts were flooded with hateful comments and insults. Just as I was wondering what was happening, my bedroom door was suddenly kicked open, and two bodyguards roughly grabbed my arms.

"Ms. Rivera, come with us," they ordered.

Then, they dragged me to Natalie's hospital room.

The moment I stepped inside, Davon yanked me forward violently. He shouted, "Evelyn Rivera, what the hell have you done?! Who told you to post all that online? Do you know Natalie almost jumped off the roof after seeing that?!"

He grabbed me by the throat, his eyes burning with anger and disappointment.

From the hospital bed, Nattie clutched her blanket and said tearfully, "Eve, I know you're upset, but how could you curse me like that?"

"I didn't…" I forced out the words, struggling to breathe as his grip tightened.

"Still denying it?" Mom raised her hand to slap me again.

Dad's face darkened. "Nattie's body is fragile, and you still try to hurt her?"

Davon finally let go, his eyes cold and empty. "You've really disappointed me."

I coughed so hard my chest hurt. Looking at them, I forced out each word, "I-I will clear everything up."

"Clear what up?" Davon narrowed his eyes.

I clutched my throat, coughing again before I managed to say, "I'll tell everyone that we divorced a year ago. You and Natalie are in a normal relationship."

The air in the room suddenly shifted, and I noticed their eyes all lit up at once.

After that, I picked up my phone and posted a statement on my social media.

[Davon Parker and I divorced a year ago. Natalie Rivera and he are in a legitimate relationship. All accusations against her are false and unfounded.]

After the statement was published, the enraged social media users turned their fury on me instead.

Someone commented, [I see now... She's just jealous that Mr. Parker chose Ms. Natalie over her! How could such a petty, envious sister exist?]

Another wrote, [She even tried to start a hate campaign against her own sister. No wonder Mr. Parker abandoned her...She deserves it!]

I turned off my phone and stopped reading the hurtful comments.

Natalie reached out and took my hand, pretending to be understanding. "Eve, even though you made a mistake, I won't hold it against you if you can make things right. In fact, I should thank you for stepping aside for Davon and me. After the transplant, we can be close sisters again."

She leaned in close to my ear when no one was looking, and her voice turned venomous. "Donating a kidney, clearing my name... You think this makes you noble? You don't actually believe this will make him want you back or make our parents love you, do you? You'll always be beneath me."

I lowered my head and let out a bitter laugh as I pulled my hand away from hers without responding.

Natalie thought I had done all of this because I still harbored hope that Davon would return to me, or that my parents would finally show me affection.

She was wrong. I stopped caring about any of that a long time ago.

After the statement was released, the hospital room finally returned to a forced calm.

Davon spoke softly, his tone tender and reassuring. "It's over now."

Mom held a bowl of homemade soup and gently lifted a spoon to Natalie's lips, while Dad carefully sliced apples and handed them to her piece by piece.

I stood nearby, watching the warm little scene unfold, feeling like an outsider.

Natalie glanced at me, eyes filled with smug triumph, the corners of her mouth curving into a victorious smile.

I turned away silently, ready to leave.

Davon said coldly. "Hold it. You ruined Natalie's wedding. You think you can just walk away from this?"

My body went rigid and I stopped in my tracks, waiting for him to continue.

"Before the transplant is done, you're staying at the mansion. No going out, and no visitors. Hand over your phone while you're at it."

He paused and added, "You'll post a public apology on the family's official page every day until the wedding is rescheduled. The guards will make sure you do."

I nodded without argument. He seemed surprised that I accepted this so quietly, his brow furrowing in annoyance at something he could not quite name.

With that, I pressed my lips together and turned to leave.

As Davon watched my back disappear down the hallway, he felt confused. He had thought I would react the way I always did before: crying and fighting, refusing to accept punishment.

This time, I was entirely obedient. Compliant.

...

The next morning, I stayed in my room and wrote out the first public apology. Then, I sent it to the butler for review and posting. There were no excuses, no accusations–just clean, simple sentences.

Tears soaked through the paper as I wrote.

By the third day, my child quietly left my body as a pool of blood. The doctor had warned me long ago that my body could not carry the baby to term.

I cleaned up the blood quietly; my dry eyes could no longer produce tears.

...

On the day of the surgery, Davon's bodyguards brought me to the hospital.

When he saw me, he frowned slightly. "You've lost so much weight. What happened?"

He paused, then added gently, "It's okay. After the surgery, I'll make sure you recover properly."

I nodded softly, but I murmured softly, 'You don't need to.'

Outside the operating room, my parents and Davon clustered around Natalie, offering comfort and care with every word they spoke.

I lay on the other stretcher nearby, coughing so hard my chest burned. I covered my mouth, my face pale.

Nobody even turned to look at me.

"Don't be nervous, Nattie. The surgery will go perfectly," said Mom, gripping Natalie's hand with worry etched across her face.

"Davon, after the surgery is over, you two should take a proper honeymoon," Dad added with a smile.

Davon looked at Natalie tenderly and nodded. "Of course. We'll do whatever you suggest."

They laughed and talked happily while I lay there, as if I did not exist at all.

Eventually, it was my turn for surgery. As I was wheeled into the operating room, the harsh white lights glared down at me. My heart went completely cold.

The room was freezing. I lay on the table as the surgical lamp shone above me, blindingly bright, while the instruments around me clinked in sterile rhythm.

"Begin the procedure," the surgeon, Stephen Banks, said in a calm, measured voice.

Before long, the anesthesia began to flow through my veins. My consciousness started to blur, and the sounds around me grew distant and muddled.

"Wait, what's this?" Stephen suddenly exclaimed in alarm.

I struggled to keep my heavy eyelids open, but all I could see was panic spreading across their faces.

Someone whispered urgently, "Hold on... Something's wrong with her kidneys."

Another voice, lower and more alarmed, cut through. "She only has one kidney. The transplant risk is extremely high."

I heard the sound of medical charts being flipped through, papers rustling. "And… she has end-stage lung cancer."

A nurse beside me kept reviewing my medical records and suddenly gasped. "She also shows signs of a previous miscarriage in her uterus."

I thought about my child, and my gaze softened for just a moment before it went cold again. My child had been my only hope in this life, and even that, I could not keep.

Then came the urgent shouts. "She's bleeding! Apply pressure! Hurry!"

The voices echoed and scattered around me. I felt as though I was at the bottom of the ocean, unable to hear clearly, yet only able to feel the overwhelming cold.

I thought of my child, how I wanted to give them a name.

It was all too late.

My mind drifted to my parents, to Davon. Their names slipped through my mind one by one, light as dust.

In the chaos, one voice suddenly came very close, as if pressed against my ear, and it was broken.

"Eve..."

I wanted to laugh, thinking that maybe this was what peace felt like.

The white light slowly closed in around me. I shut my eyes, and the world became quiet.