At that very moment, my phone lit up with Raymond's furious call.

"Madeline! The trending news—you arranged it, didn't you? Delete it immediately!"

I said nothing. I simply hung up without a second of hesitation.

When his messages came flooding like bullets, I blocked him with one tap.

Still, they kept popping up on the screen, notification after notification.

Raymond: [Madeline, what are you trying to do? Do you realize how much damage this is causing the company? The stock price is already plummeting!]

[Maddy, I know you're angry, but can't we talk this through properly?]

[If that's what it takes, I'll apologize...]

Expressionless, I powered off the phone, set it face down on the table, and lifted my gaze to the lawyer across from me.

"Let's continue." I pulled out the old document I'd hidden away at the bottom of my drawer and slid it across the table.

"Please take a look. Is this divorce agreement still valid?"

Years ago, before our marriage meant anything, Raymond had personally signed this blank agreement.

At that time, his words had been ice-cold. "If you ever want to leave, just sign this. You'll always have the freedom to walk away."

I had thought it was a gesture of security, of trust.

Later, as our relationship deepened, he changed. The cold-hearted CEO cooked for me three times a day. He fussed over me endlessly—whether I was too cold, too hot, too tired. I believed it. I believed that kind of love could last a lifetime.

So I tucked the paper away, never once thinking of using it.

Until Dorothy appeared.

Other than his violent hatred for red, Raymond had treated me well enough. Even when I lost our child to his outburst, I forced myself to forgive. I could endure pain.

But I could never endure being made a fool.

The lawyer examined the agreement carefully, then nodded.

"Miss Alvares, this agreement is still valid. As long as you sign, it takes effect immediately."

I took the pen, signed my name, and pushed the paper back across the desk. "I want the divorce finalized—as quickly as possible."

When I walked out of the café, rain had begun to drizzle. A black car honked sharply in front of me.

It was Raymond's car. He rolled the window down, revealing his stern face.

"Get in."

I didn't pause, didn't even look at him, and kept walking past.

"Madeline!" He jumped out, grabbed my arm. "Are you still going to make a scene?"

My palm cracked against his cheek before I even thought about it. "Don't touch me. You disgust me."

He froze, staring at me with eyes that had gone cold, his gaze dropping to my flaming red dress. His brows twisted tightly together.

"Why must you oppose me in everything?"

"Maddy, wasn't our relationship always good before? Can't we go back to that?" His voice frayed, heavy with frustration. "Dory was lucky it was only superficial injuries. The baby's fine. But if something had happened—"

"If What then?" I cut him off. My voice was like ice. "If she'd lost the child, would you have killed me instead?"

"Madeline!" His shout was ragged. "How did you become like this?"

"How did I become like this?" My laugh was sharp and bitter. "Tell me, Raymond—did I change? Or was it you?"

His eyes, when they met mine, were full of exhaustion, full of disgust.

"Don't forget," I said, turning away. "It was you who betrayed me first."

I didn't want to waste another word. I walked off.

But he refused to let go, still chasing me down.

"That reporter—you set her up. Call her! Tell her to delete the video!"

So that was why he had come.

"Dory saw the article," he said, his tone accusatory, almost urgent. "She was so shaken she tried to throw herself off the building. It took me a long time to calm her down!"

"Madeline, can't you stop being so selfish?" Raymond continued in annoyance.

"Don't drag others down just because of your own grudges."

How noble. How selfless. How considerate of others.

"Selfish?" I turned, lips curling into a cold smile. "I'm not only going to be selfish—I'm going to destroy everything you hold dear."

Raymond's expression shifted instantly.

"Maddy, don't touch her," he said urgently.

"I swear, that night was an accident. As long as she gives birth to the child, I'll make sure she stays far away from our lives."

His panic exposed his weakness.

A dull ache pressed against my chest, yet my smile stayed in place. "And what if I refuse?"

I didn't just want a divorce. I wasn't going to let Raymond slip away as if all these years of my youth, my energy, my sacrifices had been worthless.

I wanted it all back—every last piece he owed me.

His eyes grew cold.

"Then you'll have to go away for a while," he said at last.

Go away.

He meant sending me abroad, to a strange place where I could "calm down."

But how was that any different from a prison sentence?

"You have no right to interfere with my freedom," I spat. "Raymond, I'm not your pet."

I was about to leave the house in a red dress when his hand caught my arm.

"Change your clothes before you go out."

"I told you, you're not allowed to wear red."

A wave of stubbornness rose up in me. "And why can't I?"

He said it without shame, "Only Dory can wear red."

"When she wears it, it soothes my condition. Haven't you noticed how much better I've been?"

I laughed bitterly, nearly choking on the disgust.

"You're amazing. With acting skills like that, you should be winning film awards instead of lying to me."

He really thought I'd still believe that ridiculous excuse? But I had already seen the truth on the house surveillance footage.

In the dead of night, while I was asleep, he pinned Dorothy on the sofa, kissing her.

He held her close and whispered, "My child can only come from your womb. Madeline doesn't deserve to keep any of mine."

"She's had enough already. I've married her—that's all she gets."

So that was it.

The "red color triggers my episodes" story was just a lie.

Even the "accident" that cost me my child... all part of his carefully laid plans.

I didn't waste another word on Raymond. I returned to the villa, began packing, and dialed a number I'd memorized long ago.

"I've decided. I'm leaving the country. Come pick me up."

The call ended.

But before I could finish packing, an uninvited guest appeared.

Since that day when Dorothy "heroically" shielded him from a flying vase and got injured, she had conveniently moved into the Tomlinson family villa.

Now, belly rounded, wearing my nightgown, she stood in front of me with a smug smile.

"Madeline, don't you think you're a pathetic excuse for a woman?"

"You couldn't keep your husband, you couldn't keep your child—why don't you just die?"

"If you're smart, you'll step down and give me my rightful place as Mrs. Tomlinson."

"Otherwise, staying in that position will only make you a joke."

I didn't lose control like last time. I walked to the window. Outside, the sunlight was bright and sharp.

"Dorothy," I said quietly, "you really think being pregnant gives you the upper hand?"

"How about you take a look at this?"

I handed her a document—an in-vitro fertilization record.

"You've been deceived by Raymond." I smiled. "You think you're some kind of great love story? In reality, you're just a tool."

Then I spoke the words that made her face drain of color. "The child in your belly is mine."

Dorothy's face turned pale in an instant.

"No... you're lying to me!"

"Raymond would never treat me like that. He loves me—he really loves me..."

The little girl looked like she was about to shatter into pieces.

However, I felt a surge of satisfaction and deliberately poured oil on the fire.

Pulling out a recorder, I pressed play.

Raymond's deep, magnetic voice flowed from the device. "Maddy, don't worry. As soon as the child is born safely, I'll send Dorothy away. She'll never appear in front of us again."

Dorothy's entire world collapsed.

Her earlier arrogance, her smug confidence—gone without a trace.

"I'm going to ask Raymond myself! I need to hear it from him—why would he lie to me?"

She ran off in tears.

The butler approached cautiously, concern written all over his face.

"Madam, aren't you afraid that by deceiving Miss Vargas like this, Sir Raymond will cause trouble for you when he finds out?"

I laughed softly, catching my own reflection in the mirror.

A face so calm, yet shadowed with a quiet, deathlike resolve. "If I were still afraid of him... Then I wouldn't be Madeline."

In this lifetime, I had only been struck twice.

The first time—Raymond beat me for wearing a red dress, sending me to the hospital with thirteen stitches.

The second—when I miscarried.

It happened because I was foolish enough to believe in love.

But I swore long ago—there would never be a third time.

Sure enough, that very day, Dorothy ran out of the house crying, and soon after, she began bleeding heavily.

The doctor later said her emotions had been too agitated, triggering complications. The child could not be saved.

But only I knew the real reason.

At that moment, Raymond was in the middle of a board meeting.

As soon as he heard the news, he abandoned everything and rushed straight to the hospital.

And me? I remained in the villa, watching the surveillance footage quietly, smiling to myself.

Then I dialed a familiar number.

"The time has come. Pick me up."

This time, it was my turn to give Raymond a "surprise."

The moment Raymond heard of Dorothy's miscarriage, he lost control.

He couldn't understand—under the nanny's careful watch, how could this have happened?

While he was tearing through the hospital in a frenzy, his phone rang and a strange number flashed on the screen.

"Mr. Tomlinson, the divorce certificate has been issued. Shall I deliver it to you or to Miss Alvares?"