We carried on a secret relationship for seven years. Our marriage registration failed eighteen times.

The nineteenth time, I thought the suffering was finally over—that my boyfriend and I would at last walk into marriage together.

Instead, what waited for me was near death.

I was the youngest genius ophthalmologist in Cleveland, someone the entire medical field had placed enormous hopes on.

But that day, a fruit knife pierced straight through my palm. Blood poured everywhere, and from that moment on, I could no longer hold a surgical scalpel.

The attacker was the father of Randall Hendershot’s childhood sweetheart.

I had just finished a seven-hour, extremely high-risk surgery for him. Yet because he was “unhappy that I had taken away the son-in-law he wanted,” he barged into my office while I was completely exhausted and tried to kill me.

After barely surviving, I immediately reported the crime and filed a lawsuit.

But my boyfriend—Randall, a lawyer—voluntarily chose to defend the culprit.

And he won.

I stood outside the courthouse. The gauze wrapped around me was soaked through with blood. My entire arm trembled uncontrollably, yet I couldn’t say a single word.

When I insisted on filing an appeal, Randall reached out and stopped me.

“Tara, if you insist on appealing… your brother might end up going to prison for molestation.”

My heart sank hard. “What do you mean?”

Randall wasn’t in a hurry. He calmly took out his phone, swiped once, and held a surveillance video in front of me.

The moment the screen lit up, it felt like I had been plunged into ice water.

My brother is my only family.

He ranked first in the entire school. His recommendation spot was secured. He was the hope our parents entrusted to me before they died—the one person I was told I had to protect no matter what.

But now, his face was flushed, his eyes unfocused, his entire body leaning uncontrollably toward a girl not far away.

The girl tried to push him away, but she couldn’t.

I knew exactly this was a crime!

If that girl reported him for molestation, my brother’s entire life would be ruined!

But he had always been sensible. How could he ever do something like this?

My whole body turned ice-cold, trembling all the way to my fingertips.

“Nik… how could this happen? Who drugged him?”

Randall’s expression remained calm.

“That’s not something you need to worry about. You only need to decide whether to withdraw the appeal. Once you do, everything will be taken care of.”

Something clicked in my mind. My heart clenched violently.

“This… was arranged by you?”

The man I had loved for seven years slowly lifted his eyes. There wasn’t a trace of panic in them.

It was as if he were merely handling the most ordinary case.

My throat felt like it had been ripped open. The entire world collapsed in that instant.

“My brother is only eighteen! He’s one step away from his dreams! How could you—”

“Because you’re doing something that puts me in a very difficult position.”

Randall cut me off, his voice even gentle as he spoke.

“Tara, if you continue with the appeal, I won’t interfere. Your brother will be left with a permanent criminal record—his future completely destroyed.”

His tone was so detached that it made my stomach churn with fear.

He continued calmly.

“But if you take a step back and withdraw the appeal, then no one will ever know about this. Nothing will happen between your brother and that girl.”

All my strength drained away. The man standing in front of me felt terrifyingly unfamiliar.

“You’re threatening me… for Samantha’s father?”

“That’s not a threat,” he corrected lightly.

“It’s weighing the pros and cons and choosing the lesser harm. Your brother’s future—and our future happiness—will always be worth more than sending an elderly man who made an accidental mistake to prison.”

He slipped his phone back into his pocket and gently lifted my pale chin with his fingers.

“I’ll give you one minute to think it over. As long as you give up the appeal, we can still live happily together.”

He even said it tenderly. “You don’t have to be a doctor anymore. You can stay home as a housewife. I can support you.”

At that moment, every drop of blood in my body froze.

I couldn’t believe the man who once told me, “The way you chase your dreams is dazzling,” could ignore my future for someone else—and even try to destroy my only family.

I could no longer hold a scalpel, yet in his mouth, it was reduced to a casual “accident.”

“Ten seconds,” Randall began counting, certain I wouldn’t persist.

“Nine.”

My brother’s guaranteed admission, his honor, his entire future—suddenly, all of it hung in Randall’s hands now.

“Eight.”

My brother knew nothing. I could already imagine how much pain he would feel once he sobered up.

A genius teenager, forced into becoming the protagonist of a malicious crime.

“Three.”

“I withdraw the appeal.”

Tears blurred my vision.

For my brother, I signed the agreement to give up the appeal.

But when I rushed to the hotel, my brother had already climbed onto the sixth-floor window ledge in despair.

He cried out to me.

“Tara, I don’t want to be a bad person… I’m not a bad person… but I feel so awful. My body isn’t getting out of my control! I really can’t hold on…”

The next second, his body fell backward.

I couldn’t even scream.

All that remained in my eyes was that horrifying streak of red.

In the hospital corridor, I sat there holding my brother’s clothes for a long time.

Then, by chance, I heard Randall’s friend talking to him nearby.

“This really blew up, didn’t it? The time before that, you set fire to the marital house. Last time, you sold Tara’s dog and said it ran away. You dragged things out so many times. Didn’t expect it to blow up this time.”

My entire body stiffened.

Randall replied calmly, “I really did want to register the marriage with her. Who knew Samantha’s father would suddenly act impulsively and make such a mistake. I’ll make it up to her in the future.”

What… did that mean?

I numbly raised my head. The blazing sun shone down on me, yet I couldn’t feel even a hint of warmth.

“You’re really going to marry that woman from the countryside? What about your childhood sweetheart?”

Randall’s voice didn’t waver at all.

“Tara has been with me for many years. I owe her a proper status. Nineteen delays in registering the marriage—consider it my greed. As for Samantha… we’re fated but not destined. We can only be siblings.”

My mind felt like it had been struck by lightning.

Seven years.

Seven years of love.

I had believed Randall and I shared the same heart, that we were running toward the future side by side.

But neither of us ever imagined that all nineteen failed attempts at registering our marriage had been meticulously designed by him himself.

Before the first registration, he was suddenly retaliated against by a defendant, and I injured my leg, spending three months recovering.

Before the second, I was suddenly assigned multiple urgent patients and couldn’t rest for months.

Before the third, I was scratched by the cat belonging to Randall’s childhood sweetheart’s family and sent to the hospital.

It turned out that today was the only accident he hadn’t anticipated.

And Samantha’s father almost killed me.

Yet Randall defended him.

He even used my brother as leverage!

Through tears, I dialed a number I never thought I would call.

“Senior…”

My voice was hoarse, barely recognizable as my own.

“You said before… that you wanted me to go to the United Kingdom for further study and become a professor. I agree.”

“But I have one condition. Arrange the best lawyer for me.”

I spoke each word slowly, using every ounce of will I had left.

“In seven days, I want Randall… to pay the price.”

One week later, I would transfer my brother abroad—and then refile the lawsuit against Samantha’s father!

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, followed by a firm response.

“Alright. I’ll take care of everything for you.”

Doctors worked on my brother for a full day and night before he was finally pulled back from the brink of death.

Even so, he remained in a deep coma. No one could say when—if ever—he would wake up.

I stood beside his hospital bed, staring at his tightly shut eyes, my throat feeling as though it were clogged with sharp thorns.

This was all because of me.

My brother ended up like this because of me.

Randall walked into the room, his voice carrying a trace of apology.

“Your brother’s condition was an accident. I didn’t expect him to do something so extreme.”

My nose stung suddenly, and my nails dug hard into my palm.

“As long as you withdraw the lawsuit,” he said, “I’ll bring in the best specialists. I’ll make sure he wakes up.”

My fingers trembled, a wave of nausea surging so violently it almost burst out of my throat.

What right did Randall have?

What right did he have to stand here, wearing the posture of a benefactor, trying to patch up the hell he himself had created?

Every inch of the pain my brother and I were suffering was the result of his careful calculations.

But he hadn’t always been like this.

Seven years ago, he had been nothing more than a student who dreamed of becoming a lawyer.

To stick to that path, he fought bitterly with his parents, moved out on his own, and rented a tiny apartment in the most remote part of the city.

That same year, my cat was poisoned to death.

I held that small, lifeless body and stood outside the police station for a long time. After that, I went from one law firm to another, knocking on doors, explaining what had happened over and over again, begging for nothing more than an answer.

Every response I got was a rejection.

Every one, except Randall.

After listening to my story, he handed me a tissue, his voice deliberately gentle.

“You’re crying so hard I can barely hear what you’re saying.”

I lowered my head, my voice shaking. “I know cases like this aren’t worth much… but it was still a life.”

He squatted down so we were eye to eye.

“I know. And that’s exactly why someone has to take it.”

I hesitated before asking, “This case… can it really be fought?”

He looked up at me, his gaze unwavering.

“I can’t promise we’ll win. But I promise I’ll do everything I possibly can.”

That lawsuit dragged on for several months.

Randall stayed up all night researching, rewrote the complaint again and again over the smallest details, and even though his bank card had been cut off and he was desperately broke, he still comforted me.

“Don’t worry about the money. Let’s finish what needs to be done first.”

In the end, we won.

The perpetrator didn’t go to prison, but he was fined for intentional property damage and forced to issue a public apology.

The outcome wasn’t perfect, but it was the best ending I could have imagined at the time.

It was only later that I learned—that case had been the very first lawsuit Randall ever won.

On the day the trial ended, he hugged me outside the courthouse. He smiled like a boy, bright and unrestrained, his voice impossible to hold back.

“Tara, did you hear that?”

“He admitted he was wrong.”

“So persistence really does mean something.”

In that moment, I was struck by his kindness, and deeply moved by his almost clumsy devotion to justice.

But seven years had passed.

The boy who once argued fiercely over “just a cat,” who celebrated a single victory by hugging someone and cheering, was gone.

He had become just like those people—willing to use any means necessary as long as he won the case.

I forced myself to grit my teeth and calm down.

I forced all the surging emotions back into the deepest part of my heart.

Because I knew that, right now, I still couldn’t go up against him. The support my senior had arranged for me hadn’t arrived yet.

I heard myself speak in a voice that was almost eerily calm.

“Randall, let’s break up.”

The air went dead silent.

Unable to help myself, I deliberately brought up the nineteen failed attempts at marriage registration.

“Look at us. Every time we try to register our marriage, something goes wrong. Maybe it really is fate telling us we’re not meant to be together.”

When those words left my mouth, my chest hurt so badly I nearly couldn’t straighten up.

Letting go of a seven-year relationship was never easy. My brother and I depended on each other, and before all this, Randall had been my second family.

But I thought breaking up was the wisest way to protect myself.

Wasn’t he deliberately tormenting me under the excuse of “repaying a debt of gratitude,” just to delay the marriage?

Then I would give him his freedom outright. I would let him return to the person he truly wanted to be with.

But the very next second after I finished speaking, he suddenly reached out and pulled me tightly into his arms.

“What nonsense are you talking about?!”

His tone was forceful, domineering, and absurd, as if it had never once crossed his mind that I—who loved him so deeply—would propose a breakup.

I struggled in disgust, but he only held me tighter.

“Don’t use breaking up to provoke me, okay?”

“I’ve already compromised. What more do you want from me?”

“I was just trying to scare you a little. I didn’t expect your brother to jump off the building. I didn’t want this either. Seeing your brother like that hurts me more than anyone.”

“This is my fault. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Trust me. We’ll go register next week. Once we’re married, everything will be perfect, and your brother will be treated properly and recover safely.”

My body was still too familiar with his embrace. For a moment, I couldn’t push him away.

The remnants of love and pain tangled together, leaving me almost unable to breathe.

Just as I struggled to shove him aside, his phone rang.

Almost reflexively, he released me.

The moment he answered the call, his tone changed completely—gentle, patient, even indulgent.

“Mmm, I know.”

“Tara has already agreed to withdraw the lawsuit. Uncle won’t go to prison, so don’t worry.”

My gaze shook violently, my heart feeling as if it had been scooped out in an instant.

I knew who was on the other end of the line.

It was Samantha.

I didn’t know what Samantha had said on the phone, but the next second, Randall’s expression changed.

“You’re at the hospital? What’s wrong? Where do you feel uncomfortable?”

He only had time to say one hurried sentence to me. “Tara, calm down. I’ll go check on Samantha and come right back.”

Then he turned and left.

He didn’t see the hand I was clutching with gauze—already soaked through with blood from rushing back and forth.

He didn’t ask if it hurt.

In his eyes, my injury and my brother’s life meant nothing compared to a single sentence from Samantha: “I don’t feel well.”

But I clearly remembered how things used to be. Back then, if I so much as nicked the skin beside my nail while cooking, he would notice immediately, panic setting in, his eyes turning red with worry.

How did it ever become like this?

When did the lie really begin—seven years ago, or after Randall moved back to his parents’ home?

‘Randall. Why won’t you agree to break up?!’

Those questions crushed over and over in my mind.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make sense of it.

Just then, my phone rang. It was a call from the obstetrics and gynecology department, reminding me to pick up my follow-up test results.

In that instant, my head buzzed.

My memory snapped uncontrollably back to the fifteenth time our marriage registration had failed.

That time, I had been knocked to the ground by a dog that suddenly went berserk on my way home. Blood everywhere. The child I had just conceived was gone before I even knew I was pregnant.

I slowly placed my hand over my lower abdomen.

A chill seeped into my limbs like poison.

And yet, I still couldn’t help thinking, ‘Maybe that time really had been an accident.’

No matter how cold-blooded someone was, they wouldn’t lay a hand on their own child… right?

But when I reached the obstetrics department, I saw Randall and Samantha walking out side by side.

They didn’t notice me at all.

“Randall, I’m already pregnant with your baby,” Samantha said softly, her voice tinged with grievance. “But I can only stay with you like this—without a name or a status.”

Randall lowered his voice as he comforted her. “There’s no choice, Samantha. Our relationship can’t see the light of day.”

“Back then, my dad and your mom were foster siblings who loved each other. With that kind of history, we can never go public.”

Samantha pouted, refusing to let him hold her.

Randall just smiled. He lowered his head and kissed the top of her hair, his tone gentle—and cruel.

“It’s fine. Even if I can’t marry you, so what?”

“My child will only ever be born by you.”

“As for Tara’s, didn’t I already arrange for a rabid dog to take care of it? And I won’t let her get pregnant again in the future.”

Samantha asked coquettishly, “What if she gets pregnant again by accident?”

Randall’s answer stabbed straight into my heart like a knife.

“She won’t.”

“I’ve been adding contraceptives to the vitamins she takes every day. The dosage is high.”

“She can’t get pregnant.”

“After she marries me, she’ll look like the glamorous wife of Atty. Hendershot to the outside world. But only we’ll know the truth—my lover is you, and my only heir will be your child.”

A piercing wave of tinnitus crashed over me. My legs gave out, and I slid to the floor.

And suddenly, I understood why he had refused to break up with me earlier.

At this moment, there was no room left for self-deception.

That child’s death had never been an accident. It wasn’t fate’s cruel joke.

It was a result that had been precisely calculated long in advance.

Done by Randall himself.

He hadn’t just plotted my life and manipulated my choices. Without my knowledge, he had slowly destroyed my body, piece by piece.

He had even used medication to cut off my ability to become a mother—turning me into someone who posed no “future risk” to him at all.

As that realization spread through my mind, I could barely breathe.

It felt like something heavy was crushing my chest. Seven years of memories surged forward all at once. Every detail I had once believed was tenderness and care now revealed its sharp, hidden edge.

Whether he had ever truly loved me no longer mattered.

All I knew was that the harm he had done to me was real.

I trembled with hatred, retching uncontrollably.

If I had a knife in my hand at that moment, I would have stabbed him without hesitation.

Just as my emotions were about to shatter what little reason I had left, a pair of polished leather shoes stopped in front of me.

A shadow fell, blocking the harsh corridor lights.

“Ms. Barnhart, we finally found you.”

The man’s voice was steady and restrained, carrying a presence that was impossible to ignore.

“I’m the lawyer who will be representing you in your upcoming case.”

He reached out and helped me up from the floor, his movements polite yet firm, then placed a business card in my hand.

I didn’t need to look down to recognize who he was.

Erwin Millstein.

Randall’s former classmate—and one of the peers he had feared most over the years. A rising star at a world-renowned law firm, famous for his calm precision, sharp tactics, and utter lack of mercy.

There was a professional smile on his face, but his eyes were deep and nearly cold, as if he had long grown accustomed to staring directly at the ugliest sides of human nature.

At that moment, I felt an unexpected sense of relief.

Like someone drowning, finally grabbing onto a piece of driftwood that wouldn’t break.

Almost instinctively, I clenched the sleeve of his suit, my fingers turning white with force. My voice was low, nearly a plea.

“Attorney… help me. I want Randall’s life completely ruined.”

If before, all I wanted was justice, then now, my resolve was clear and chillingly calm.

I didn’t want compensation.

I wanted payback. Blood for blood.

Erwin looked down at me, his gaze lingering on my face for a brief moment. Then he raised his hand and gently wiped the tears from the corner of my eye with his thumb.

“No one who stands in a courtroom is truly clean,” he said quietly. “Including Randall.”

“The outcome you want,” he continued, “I can guarantee it.”

I stared at him, my voice hoarse. “There are six days left. Is that enough time?”

Erwin smiled faintly. The smile never reached his eyes, but it carried an almost ruthless confidence.

“More than enough.”

“Perfect timing, actually. A week from now is Randall’s televised interview.”

“Let him fall off the cliff at the very peak of his glory. Doesn’t that sound fun?”