The news that the surgery had failed was so absurd, I almost laughed.

Lucian still hadn’t realized that the one lying in the operating room… was his own sister.

So he hadn’t even performed the surgery himself?

A strange chill spread through me. Helena’s body had been lying in the hospital all day — surely someone should have informed the Lin family by now.

But Lucian still acted as though nothing had happened.

Just as I was trying to piece things together, I heard the click of the front door.

Lucian walked in, Ivy trailing behind him, dressed to perfection and smiling coyly.

“Hehe, Uncle,” she giggled, her tone sickeningly sweet, “you really went and handled your master’s sister’s body without permission. What if she finds out and gets angry?”

“What if she gets angry?” Lucian sneered.

“That woman chased after me for three years like a stray dog. If it weren’t for the fact that her family still had money and could be useful to me, do you think I would have married her?”

He wrapped an arm around Ivy’s tiny waist, voice laced with contempt.

“But I did take a huge risk for you today. How do you plan to thank me?”

And in that moment, everything became clear.

No wonder no one from the Lin family had been notified.

Lucian didn’t want me anywhere near the body — didn’t want me to push for an autopsy, didn’t want me to have proof of what really happened.

He had used his authority at the hospital to secretly take control of his own sister’s corpse.

As a doctor, he should have known this wasn’t just unethical — it was criminal.

“Hehe, I’m yours tonight. Do whatever you want,” Ivy whispered, her cheeks flushed as she leaned closer.

Lucian smiled faintly, scooped her up in his arms, and started toward the bedroom.

But he froze when he saw me standing there — leaning against the doorway, phone in hand, watching them with a half-smile.

“Seraphine? Why are you here?” he stammered.

“This is my house,” I replied evenly. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”

I gestured casually toward the hallway.

“Don’t mind me. Go on. Continue what you were doing.”

His face darkened as he set Ivy down.

“Your sister is dead, and you’re not even at the wake. What kind of sister does that make you?”

I almost laughed in disbelief.

He had the gall to commit adultery in our home and then lecture me about morals.

“Since you’re here,” Lucian said coldly, “I’ll make this easy. Since you refuse to sign, and the hospital can’t reach your family, I’ll sign the death certificate on your behalf.”

He shoved a plastic-wrapped box into my hands.

“These are your sister’s ashes. Saves me the trouble of delivering them later.”

I had expected him to be callous. But the box was battered, and when he thrust it at me, ashes spilled onto the floor.

Something in me snapped.

“Lucian,” I said icily, “you treat your mistress like a treasure — but when it comes to your own sister, you can’t wait to destroy the evidence, can you?”

His expression darkened, his voice rising.

“Stop slandering me! What evidence? Your sister died in a car accident. I’m a doctor, not a god!”

I took a slow, steady breath, bent down, and carefully gathered the ashes from the floor.

When I opened the box and saw that less than half the ashes remained, my hands shook with fury.

“The dead deserve respect,” I said through gritted teeth. “You’re a doctor, yet you can’t even show the slightest dignity to the dead?”

Lucian didn’t even flinch. His tone was impatient, almost bored.

“I don’t know how many cremations go through that place every day. The ashes all get mixed together. What does it matter? Just keep enough for the burial — that’s enough.”

I laughed, low and bitter. “That’s what a human being should say?”

“Teacher, Master’s Wife, please don’t fight.”

Ivy’s soft sob cut through the room. She sniffled pitifully.

“This was my fault. I was the one who collected the ashes. If I’d known, I would’ve taken more. Then even if some spilled, there would still be enough left.”

“How could you possibly be at fault?”

Lucian immediately soothed her, his hand stroking her head with a gentleness I’d never received from him.

Then he turned to me, his eyes cold, his voice laced with disdain.

“You left your sister’s body in the hospital without even checking on her. And now you want to use her death to blackmail us? Ivy brought the ashes back for you out of kindness, and instead of gratitude, you blame her? Truly heartless.”

My vision blurred with rage.

A decompression craniectomy killed his own sister — and this man dared to expect me to thank him?

But fine. I wasn’t her sister-in-law anymore. If he, her own brother, wanted to worship the woman who killed her, that was his choice.

“Teacher, don’t say that.”

Ivy’s lips curved in a demure little pout as she covered his mouth playfully.

“She must have gone a little mad after losing her sister.”

Lucian’s eyes softened at her touch, a tenderness flashing there that made my chest ache.

“Master’s Wife,” Ivy said sweetly, handing me the ashes, “you should bury her soon. Otherwise, her remains will just scatter in the wind.”

I sneered and shoved the box back toward them.

“Let Lucian keep them.”

As I pushed it back, Ivy suddenly stumbled two steps, deliberately tearing the plastic bag.

Ashes spilled across the floor, rising into the air and choking me until I coughed.

“Master’s Wife, I’m sorry!” she cried, sitting down on the floor, tears brimming in her eyes. “If it will make you feel better, hit me. But your sister’s death really had nothing to do with me!”

“Seraphine, have you lost your mind?”

Lucian stormed forward, and before I could react, his palm cracked across my face.

“Ivy went out of her way to bring you your sister’s ashes, and this is how you treat her? You’re insane!”

He hauled her to her feet, his arm sliding protectively around her waist as he prepared to leave.

I pressed a hand to my stinging cheek, my breathing ragged. Then I exhaled slowly, my voice calm — too calm.

“Lucian,” I said, pulling a folded document from my bag, “let’s get a divorce.”

He froze, turning to stare at me.

“You want a divorce?”

His expression shifted — surprise first, then anger, until his face was carved with ice.

“Seraphine,” he said coldly, “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you’re only saying this because you’re grieving your sister.”

“Put that divorce agreement away,” Lucian snapped. “I won’t argue with you about this!”

I looked him straight in the eye, my face cold and unreadable.

“If you refuse to divorce me, I’ll hold you accountable — to the very end.”

My voice was calm, but each word was a blade.

“Did you really think that just because you secretly disposed of your sister’s body and deleted the surveillance footage, I can’t sue you?”

His expression froze, the color draining from his face.

Beside him, Ivy went pale as well, clutching at his sleeve nervously.

“Seraphine, you’re being completely unreasonable! You’re so annoying!” she burst out, her tone shrill.

Lucian’s face shifted between hesitation and anger before he finally exhaled, his eyes full of disgust.

“Fine. Isn’t this what you want?”

He snatched up the pen, scrawled his name on the divorce agreement, and slammed it down.

“See you tomorrow at nine. Civil Affairs Bureau.”

I gathered up the papers, the corners of my lips curling in a faint smile.

He grabbed Ivy’s hand and stormed out. Before leaving, he turned back with a sneer.

“Tomorrow, don’t come crawling back to me like a dog. I won’t take you back.”

I didn’t respond — I didn’t need to.

That night, I returned to my parents’ home and told them everything.

At first, they tried to talk me out of it. But when I told them what had really happened, their faces flushed with anger.

Lucian had always assumed my family needed him — that we were clinging to him.

But this only proved that if my family had truly been in trouble, he would have stepped on us without hesitation.

The next morning, I took the signed divorce agreement and prepared to head to the Civil Affairs Bureau.

But before I could leave, my in-laws arrived — carrying wreaths and paper money, as though they had come straight from a funeral.

We ran into each other at the door.

The moment she saw me, my mother-in-law launched into a tirade.

“Sera, how could you be so foolish? Asking Lucian for a divorce? You’re just a small-time businesswoman, while our Lucian is a doctor! You’ll regret this one day.

“Your father-in-law and I talked to him all night to calm him down. We finally convinced him to give up on the divorce. Call him and apologize!”

I stared at her coldly, almost laughing.

Did they really forget how their “surgical prodigy” son got where he is today?

It was my connections, my begging, my favors that got him into this hospital. My parents even swallowed their pride and asked an old friend to secure him advanced training at a top institution.

Everything he is today — every ounce of that so-called brilliance — was built on my family’s efforts.

And now they dared to tell me I wasn’t worthy of him?

“You’re just self-employed,” my mother-in-law continued, mistaking my silence for hesitation.

“Even if you have to quit your job, just stay home and give Lucian a child.

“Now that your sister is gone, you’re your parents’ only daughter. When they pass, everything will be yours — and you can leave it all to your children. Isn’t that better than working yourself to the bone?”

I felt fury rise like a tide in my chest.

So this was their dream — to have me chained to their son, handing over my family’s legacy like a dowry?

I laughed coldly. “The only people dying here are you — and your whole family!”

Before she could respond, my sister stormed out from the next room, wielding a broom like a weapon.

“You still have the nerve to come here?” she shouted, swinging the broom at them with all her strength.

My in-laws froze in shock, too stunned to dodge.

“You—how are you still alive?” my mother-in-law gasped, her face turning ashen.