It had happened before when I was sixteen.

My father's business rivals had kidnapped me.

Rory had charged into their hideout alone, cutting through commotion and blood with the fury of someone who had already lost everything. She was beaten and battered with three broken ribs and a comminuted fracture in her right leg.

But despite it all, she carried me out of that abandoned warehouse like it was nothing, her strength nearly inhuman.

She had made me keep my eyes closed the whole time, afraid I'd panic, whispering reassurances into my ear as she carried me.

"Cyrus, don't be afraid. I'll bring you home safely. As long as I'm here, nothing will happen to you."

Now, those same words, once reserved only for me, were being whispered to another man.

"Jesse, don't be afraid. I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you. I'll get you home safe."

Rory's team arrived quickly, but they didn't have time to deal with me.

They rushed straight to Jesse, whisking him off to the hospital for treatment.

I stayed put in the car, eyes cold, watching them leave.

Then, my phone buzzed.

A message lit up the screen:

[Sir, are you really letting them off just like that?]

I replied without hesitation:

[Of course not. Did you prepare what I asked for?]

He replied quickly:

[Yes, it's ready.]

A slow, dark smile spread across my face. Satisfaction glimmered in my eyes as I read it.

'Rory… enjoy the hell I'm about to bring you,' I said inwardly.

Right then, I put the phone away and drove her car back home.

...

In the following days, Rory underwent treatment at the hospital, while I cleaned up all unnecessary remnants at home.

It was during that time that the maid approached, holding something rough and worn in her hands, hesitating before she asked,

"Sir, do you still need this rag?"

The 'rag' in question was the scarf Jesse had painstakingly knitted for Rory.

When he had given it to her, she had returned home, a soft smile tugging at her lips, carefully placing it in her study drawer as if it were a treasure.

"Burn it," I said, my gaze drifting to the wedding photos that still hung in the living room.

"Burn all of it."

The housekeeper hesitated, confusion flickering across her face, but she knew her boundaries. She nodded and carefully removed every framed wedding photo from the shelves.

At that moment, my phone buzzed again.

[Sir, Rory will be discharged tomorrow.]

Perfect.

The show was about to begin.

...

The next day, Rory was wheeled back into the house by Jesse.

"Rory, you really can't keep indulging Cyrus," Jesse said, his voice tight with worry. "If he dares to hurt you now, he won't hesitate to kill you later. Keeping a lunatic like him around makes me afraid to sleep. I'm scared I'll just end up dead one day."

Rory gently patted his hand.

"Don't worry. Once we get divorced, it'll be fine. From then on, it'll be just the two of us… We'll live peacefully," she replied, her voice soothing.

Before she could finish, a sudden clamor of voices erupted in the living room.

"Ms. McGrath is back!"

"Ms. McGrath, come see the child in my arms. We've calculated his luck based on his birth date. Everyone says he's blessed. If you accept him as your godson, it would be perfect."

"Ms. McGrath, look at my daughter. She's obedient and sweet, our little darling. If you accept her as your goddaughter, she will also become your little darling in the future."

A few meticulously dressed people pushed and jostled, bringing their children toward Rory.

Surrounded unexpectedly, Rory and Jesse froze.

Jesse reacted first.

Panic rose in his voice as he shouted at the crowd, "What the hell are you doing? When did Rory say she wanted godchildren? If she wants children, I have plenty of ways to give them to her…"

"Really?" I descended the stairs slowly, deliberately, holding up Rory's medical report, making sure everyone felt the weight of the moment.

"Didn't the doctor say she lost her ability to have children?" I asked, my voice calm. "How did you give her a child? Did you make another woman carry it, and then have her recognize it?"

"Oh, my dearest wife, that's tragic, isn't it? Not only did your little lover cheat on you, but now you have to accept a bastard born from his affair."

I feigned pity, though the smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth was impossible to hide.

"Instead of sulking," I said, letting my voice roll over the crowd, "why don't you take a look at the little ones here? Adopting a godson and goddaughter almost completes a picture of a perfect family, doesn't it?"

At my words, the crowd shifted, jostling closer to her.

Rory's veins throbbed with fury, her temper flaring like wildfire.

"Shut the fuck up, Cyrus! I don't need any godsons or goddaughters! Everyone, get out of here!" she shouted, voice sharp as a whip.

I shook my head slowly, letting the tension simmer. "Now, now, how can that do? The main event hasn't even started yet. How can the audience just leave?"

Rory shot back, "Cyrus, you lunatic! What are you trying to do?"

I reached out and patted lightly.

Instantly, the bright 'Adoption Ceremony' banner hanging on the third floor was replaced with a stark white funeral banner.

It read: [Mourning the loss of Aurora McGrath's womb]

The upbeat music in the living room cut off abruptly, replaced by the mournful, wailing notes of a horn, an eerie, almost otherworldly sound. Each note hit like a victory fanfare in my chest, echoing with a haunting intensity.

Rory and Jesse's expressions twisted, changing in rapid succession.

Anger, humiliation, and murderous hatred blazed in their eyes.

"Cyrus, take that down immediately! Do you hear me?!"

Her face flushed crimson as she maneuvered her wheelchair closer, screaming with a raw, unrestrained rage.

I ignored her entirely, pulling the microphone I'd prepared and addressing the crowd.

"Thank you all for taking the time to witness this moment of profound sorrow," I said, bowing slightly to the assembled faces.

Then, quiet and deliberate, I spoke directly to Rory. "Growing up is just a series of farewells, Rory. Don't give up on yourself just because of this loss."

After all, in the days ahead, she would lose far more than this.

"Shut the fuck up, Cyrus! What exactly are you trying to do?" Rory shouted again, her control slipping completely in front of everyone.

"I proposed a divorce, and you refused," I said calmly, letting my words hang in the air. "I tried to live peacefully with you, but you wouldn't. Do you really want to destroy this family?"

From the moment she arrived until now, she hadn't realized what day it was.

She hadn't remembered the words I had just spoken, the same words she had once said to me: "Cyrus, don't take advantage of Rory's patience. No matter what you do, she'll divorce you!"

"And I," Jesse had said earnestly to Rory, "no matter what Rory becomes, I will stay by her side, unwavering until death."

Touched, Rory's eyes softened, and she gazed at him with gentle affection.

I chuckled, signaling ever so subtly.

From the shadows, a bodyguard stepped forward without hesitation and delivered a sharp, stinging slap across Jesse's face.

The triumphant wail of the horn mingled with the sound of the slap, a melody that seemed to hum with satisfaction.

I nodded at the bodyguard, approving.

"Well done. Go claim your reward."

"You bastard! How dare you have someone hit me?" Jesse yelled, clutching his burning cheek, eyes filled with raw resentment.

"Because," I said, my voice calm but firm, "this is my house. And you? You're just a plaything. You don't get a say in this, Jesse. Understand?"

"Cyrus, you've crossed the line!" Jesse shot back, his voice sharp. "Don't forget, this is the McGrath estate! One word from Rory, and this place will have a new boss in charge!"

I let out a slow, deliberate laugh that filled the room, bouncing off the walls. I clapped my hands, measured and heavy, letting everyone feel the rhythm, the tension, the weight of the moment.

Then I said, "Rory, have you forgotten how your so-called 'McGrath family' even came to be?"

When my parents passed away, I was just eighteen.

I was the only child, young, inexperienced, barely capable of handling such a massive empire.

There was no way I could have done it alone.

It was Rory who had said to me, "Cyrus, trust me, and I'll show you a future for your family that's even more glorious than you could imagine."

Back then, her family's company had long since gone under.

Rory's parents, crushed by debt and despair, had thrown themselves off a building together.

She was alone, just like me.

So I had agreed to her plan.

But now, she's forgotten all of it.

The 'McGrath family' she spoke of should have carried my name, McLaughlin, not hers.

Before I could even utter another word, Rory gritted her teeth, struggling to suppress her fury, and barked toward the door, "Guards! Get these people out of here!"

She then shouted at the top of her lungs, "And as for Cyrus, today whoever convinces him to sign the divorce, I'll reward one million in cash!"

At her words, a team of highly trained bodyguards appeared from the shadows in perfect unison.

But they didn't move.

They didn't obey Rory.

Instead, they bowed to me with precision and shouted, "Sir Cyrus!"

I let my gaze linger on Rory's face as her expression shifted from calm disbelief to absolute horror.

A slow, calculated smile tugged at my lips.

"Rory, are you ready to step into the hell I've prepared for you?"