On the day Bryson Lundeberg and I were supposed to celebrate our anniversary, my mother went into surgery.

I thought everything was under control. But I never imagined that a procedure with a ninety percent success rate would fail.

That left mom comatose.

At first, I wanted to call it an accident. But when I came home late that night, I overheard the truth.

“Bryson, what you did for me… I’m really grateful. If it weren’t for you, I might already be in jail. But I swear I never meant for Hedy’s mom to be in danger…” Debbii Parmelee murmured.

Her voice sounded a little flirty, her body leaning against Bryson.

Without any restraint, he pulled her into his arms.

“What happened was not your fault, to begin with. You had good intentions in giving Hedy’s mom that medicine. She ran into trouble in surgery because her body couldn’t hold up. It’s not on you, okay?” he replied, patting her head to soothe her.

I froze in place, listening as they bantered about my mom like it was entertainment.

Only after hearing everything did I understand why my mom had fallen into a coma.

Debbii had given my mom a large dose of experimental, unapproved drugs before the surgery—that drug sabotaged the surgery!

Worse, Bryson had known it all along!

I wiped away my tears, pulled out the divorce agreement we’d signed before the wedding, and took out my phone.

“Take back all assets and funding we’ve granted Lundeberg Corporation. At the upcoming project bid next week, disqualify them. Use my shares in their company; make sure their stock falls!” I ordered.

“In seven days,” I swore, “Bryson won’t have anything left!”

1

Hedy’s POV

I made up my mind. I handed the evidence over to my brother, choosing instead to stay behind at the hospital to take care of Mom.

What I hadn’t expected was that, later that very night, I would lose all contact with him.

Just as my panic reached its peak, Bryson appeared before me—dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, radiating an untouchable air of superiority.

“The evidence your brother submitted to the cops,” he began coldly, “I’ve already suppressed it. Now, you will write a letter of forgiveness. State that Debbii never intended harm, that you understand her.”

As he spoke, he placed my mom’s hospital bill right in front of me.

“If the machines are removed, your mom won’t last long, Hedy. Think carefully about your next move.”

His unyielding expression crushed the last of my endurance, and tears slipped down my face.

He had once promised me I would never suffer injustice.

And yet here he was—using my mom’s life as leverage, all for Debbii.

I didn’t answer him. Instead, I pulled out my phone to call my brother.

When Bryson noticed, he didn’t panic. If anything, a trace of pity curved his lips, as though he were watching an insect struggling uselessly in a spider’s web. He simply waited.

I dialed again and again—ten times, twenty—but all I heard was the busy tone.

Behind me, Bryson let out a soft laugh, pitying, almost gentle. He patted my head and murmured, “Stop calling, Hedy. Don’t you see the truth already? From the very first call that didn’t go through, you should’ve guessed, shouldn’t you?”

My face went pale.

The next moment, he answered a call right in front of me, deliberately putting it on speaker.

“Sir,” his assistant’s voice came clearly, “everything has been taken care of. Ma’am Hedy’s brother has been arrested for bribery. I’ve already sent you the video of his current state. But sir… if your wife finds out, will she—”

The assistant hesitated.

Bryson glanced at my ashen face, then replied smoothly, “She won’t say anything. As long as she makes the right choice, everything will return to normal.”

He ended the call, then bent down and brushed a kiss across my cheek.

His soothing tone was just like the bedtime stories he told me before sleeping every night.

For a moment, I nearly faltered, lulled into confusion.

But then his fingers clamped around my chin, forcing my face toward his phone.

“Hedy,” he said softly, “Kenn just sent me something amusing. I think you should see it, too.”

Despite my desperate struggles, he pressed play.

I had already guessed from their words what I might see. Still, when the video lit up, I couldn’t stop the scream that tore from my throat.

There was my brother—the man who had raised me like a father, the one constant in my life—lying on the ground like a beaten dog.

Blood streamed from his body, pooling into a small dark trench. His leg was twisted at an unnatural angle, grotesquely bent. Men surrounded him, kicking, striking, intent on beating him to death right there.

My vision swam red as I stared at Bryson, disbelief shaking every word from me.

“Why? Why would you do this?”

Was Debbii truly so important to him? She was the one who had harmed my mom, and yet he covered up for her, destroying everything else in the process.

My tears fell one after another onto his hand, scalding enough to make him tremble.

For an instant, pain flickered in his eyes. He even reached out, wiping my tears with slow tenderness.

But his voice stayed cold, unyielding.

“Hedy, Debbii grew up with me. I know her. She just made a mistake. Even if she hadn’t given your mom the wrong medicine, there was no guarantee your mom could have survived the surgery. Just think of it as an accident. Wouldn’t that be better?”

He leaned closer, coaxing softly. “You frightened her with those police reports. You made her cry. If I hadn’t locked your brother away first, she would’ve broken down. Don’t be stubborn, Hedy. Sign the letter of forgiveness. Then, everything will go back to the way it was.”

His gaze softened as he spoke, but my heart only grew colder the more I looked at him.

No. It would never go back. Even if I signed, nothing would ever be the same.

Bryson was no longer the man I had married. To me, he was now a demon.

In our five years of marriage, he had never treated me this way.

Before Debbii returned to the country, he had indulged me in everything.

I had always believed I’d found my lifelong partner.

But now, I saw clearly—he wasn’t my husband. He was hers.

My silence dragged on, and irritation crept into his features.

“Hedy, every minute you waste here, your brother suffers another minute. Or would you rather I decide for you?”

As he said this, a trace of threat appeared on his face.

Before I could answer, he dragged me into my mom’s hospital room.

The next second, he ripped the oxygen tube from her face!

At once, medical staff rushed inside.

I lunged forward, but Bryson blocked me with an arm.

“Sign the letter, and she’ll be fine,” he demanded.

I looked back at him in horror.

“You have ten seconds.”

With a blank expression on his face, his voice dropped to a countdown.

“Ten.”

Suddenly, a stranger yanked my mom off the bed.

“Nine.”

They tore the oxygen mask away, leaving her gasping in agony.

“Eight.”

Dragged across the floor, her body knocked against the doorway, bruises blooming on her fragile skin.

Yet, Bryson remained unmoved, still expressionlessly counting down.

As the count neared its end, Mom’s body convulsed, struggling for air.

I could no longer control myself; tears burst forth in torrents.

“I’ll do it!” I shouted. “I’ll write the damn letter of forgiveness!”

Hedy’s POV

After hearing my words, Bryson’s expression finally softened.

He gently wiped the tears from my face, his tone turning tender.

“See? If you’d done this earlier, your brother and your mom wouldn’t have had to suffer.”

My hand trembled as I signed my name on the letter of forgiveness.

The moment he turned to leave, I grabbed his hand tightly.

“I’ve already signed it. You should let my brother out now, shouldn’t you?”

Bryson froze, taken aback by the distance and distrust on my face. His brows furrowed deeply.

“Hedy, those pieces of evidence haven’t passed the prosecution period yet. I can’t release your brother until at least seven days later. Don’t make things harder for me, okay?”

As soon as he finished speaking, his phone buzzed.

I caught a clear glimpse of the screen. It was a message from Debbii.

[Bryson, did you get the letter of forgiveness? If it’s too hard on Hedy, maybe don’t force her. I can go turn myself in. After all, everything is my fault. From now on, you and Hedy should live a good life together.]

The instant he read it, his entire demeanor turned frantic.

He yanked his hand free from mine and bolted for the door.

I bit back the pain in my wrist and caught hold of his sleeve again.

“Bryson! If you can’t let my brother out, then sign this promise instead!”

My eyes locked onto his, unwavering.

He stopped dead. He turned his head and looked at me in disbelief.

“You don’t trust me?”

I said nothing, only holding out the prepared divorce papers.

Just as I expected, Bryson—anxious to go to Debbii—didn’t even look at the documents in his hand.

He shot me a furious glare, then scrawled his signature across the page with a hard stroke. His voice dripped with mockery.

“As I thought. You still don’t understand what mistake you’ve made. You don’t value Debbii’s life, and you don’t trust me.”

With that, he gave me one last cold look, turned, and left without hesitation.

I carefully folded the divorce agreement, a bitter smile curling on my lips.

How could I still trust him?

The last time I trusted him, my brother was thrown into prison, and my mom was left on the brink of death, trapped in a coma.

If I offered my trust again, the only thing waiting for me might be death itself.

With that thought, I arranged everything for my mom, then turned and went back to the villa.

Not long after Bryson left, the screen of my phone displayed a message from Debbii.

I didn’t know where she’d gotten my number, but judging from today, she had been planning this for a long time.

I opened the video, and there he was—Bryson’s anxious figure filling the screen.

“Debbii, don’t worry. I’ve settled everything with Hedy. No one will send you to prison, no one will hurt you. I promise.”

As he spoke, he pulled her gently into his arms, his eyes holding the same tenderness he once reserved for me.

At that moment, I felt my heart shatter.

The pain my mom, my brother, and I had endured—to Bryson, it was all nothing but a bargaining chip to please Debbii.

Even after knowing the truth, he still chose to stand by her side.

At the end of the video, Debbii leaned in and pressed her red lips to his. Bryson, that jerk, did not even refuse.

I watched that video three times over until the ache in my chest numbed into nothing.

As if knowing I had finished watching, Debbii sent another message—this time more openly provocative.

[Bitch, is that wretched mom of yours still not dead? What a pity. She suffered so much because of a daughter like you. Yes, I gave her the drug on purpose, but Bryson still chose me over you. If you know what’s good for you, you’d better leave. Otherwise, watch out for your brother’s and your mom’s lives!]

She really had done it on purpose!

My eyes burned with hatred. If she appeared before me right now, I might not stop myself from tearing her apart!

Message after message, she goaded me, as if trying to drive me mad.

And then, suddenly, I widened my eyes in disbelief.

Hedy’s POV

On Debbii’s video, I recognized a decoration I knew too well.

I paced around the villa, my steps quick and restless, only to discover that the interior design in so many of Debbii’s videos was identical to this place.

A sudden realization struck me like lightning. My chest tightened as I bolted out the door.

From the villa next door came a voice—familiar, intimate.

There she was—Debbii—fluttering into Bryson’s arms like a lark, her laughter sweet and airy.

And Bryson, smiling with gentle indulgence, carefully caught her in his embrace.

“Why are you running so fast? Be careful with the baby in your belly,” he murmured.

Then, he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to her belly. His eyes brimmed with affection.

For a moment, it felt as if my heart had been pierced straight through.

She had only been back in the country for less than two months, and yet… they already had a baby?

Or was it that, even while she was still abroad, they had already been entangled?

Had my marriage… been nothing but a lie from the start?

My emotions roared and tangled within me, but I bit down hard, forcing myself not to storm over and demand an explanation. Instead, stumbling and unsteady, I retreated into the villa.

Inside, I was greeted by an entire wall of memories—photos of me and Bryson, smiling together, locked in moments of intimacy…

Things he had personally made for me…

An entire wall covered in handbags and jewelry he had chosen for me…

Three thousand love letters, each penned by him!

But now, everything before my eyes mocked me, each piece of evidence sneering at my foolishness.

I couldn’t bear it any longer. With trembling hands, I tore our wedding photo from the wall and hurled it down, shattering it into pieces.

That night, Bryson did not come back.

Instead, Debbii bombarded me with countless videos of them together, flaunting their affection.

Even from outside the villa, their voices carried—sweet, intimate, unrestrained.

I clicked through each video, one by one, my hands shaking as I forced myself to watch. And then, piece by piece, I burned every trace of what I once thought was love.

Three thousand letters, three thousand photos, countless handmade gifts—it all took me the entire night to reduce it all to ashes.

Bryson only sent me one message.

[Debbii isn’t feeling well because of you. I won’t be coming back tonight. Think of it as me helping you make up for her.]

The words left me hollow, stripped of even the dignity of anger. All I felt was despair.

When dawn finally broke, everything that had once bound us was nothing more than a heap of gray ash.

My eyes burned red as I rose unsteadily to my feet, my body trembling slightly.

Just then, my phone rang.

“Ma’am,” a cold, professional voice said, “your mom’s hospital payments are overdue. The oxygen mask, medication, and machines have all been suspended. Please settle the fees immediately.”

A dark fog swept over my vision. My voice cracked and was hoarse as I asked, “Didn’t my husband pay yesterday?”

On the other side of the phone came a contemptuous laugh. Then the staff spoke with disdain.

“Ma’am, Sir Bryson is Miss Debbii’s boyfriend. You call him your husband? If that were true, why didn’t he pay on your behalf yesterday? Please don’t insert yourself where you don’t belong. Just come and settle the bill right away. Otherwise, your mom’s life cannot be guaranteed.”

When I heard that, my hand trembled so violently I nearly dropped the phone.

Just as I was about to rush out the door, Bryson appeared at the entrance, his body covered with red marks.

The breeze that swept in carried with it the sickly sweet scent of Debbii’s perfume clinging to him. My stomach lurched; I nearly retched.

“Where are you going?” he asked, pausing mid-step when he saw my pale face. For a brief moment, something like concern flickered in his eyes.

“Why are you so pale? Are you feeling unwell?” he pressed, reaching out a hand toward me.

With a blank expression, I avoided his touch. My voice rasped, raw from the night, as I asked, “You didn’t pay for my mom’s hospital bills yesterday?”

For a split second, shock crossed his face.

But almost immediately, a soft and delicate voice drifted from behind him.

“Hedy, don’t blame Bryson. Maybe the hospital staff made a mistake.”

Debbii leaned against him sweetly, her tone dripping with false gentleness.

Her eyes, however, sparkled with provocation as they met mine.

And in that instant, everything became clear to me.