The year I loved Michael Carter the most, he broke his leg and was stabbed multiple times just to save me, nearly losing his life.

To avenge him, I shot our enemy and desecrated his grave. For that, I spent five years in prison.

Five years later, when I was released, I thought I’d be greeted by Michael’s long-lost devotion. Instead, what awaited me was his new lover—five months pregnant.

“You’re Michael’s ex-girlfriend, Rachel Evans?”

She sized me up with disdain, pinching her nose as if the air itself offended her.

“A woman with a criminal record doesn’t deserve to stand beside Michael.”

At her arrogance, I slapped her across the face.

“You think you’re even worthy of saying my name?”

“Rachel!”

Before I could continue, Michael’s voice came, low and grim, as he strode forward to help Olivia White up from the sofa.

“Olivia’s pregnancy sickness is severe. She can’t stand certain smells. Rachel, go wash up first.”

“Rachel, Olivia isn’t like us. She’s cleaner than either of us.”

Seeing the cold distance in his eyes, I laughed.

“In that case, let’s break up.”

Michael froze, then ordered someone to take Olivia away before turning to me.

“Olivia was just an accident. Rachel, I told you—alive, you belong to me; dead, you’re my ghost.”

That same line echoed in my ears. He had said it five years ago when he saved me. Hearing it again now, it only struck me as absurd.

“Is that so?”

I stepped closer, locking eyes with him.

“In that case, bring out the woman named Olivia White.”

“Rachel, stop. I told you—she was just an accident.”

Michael frowned and brushed a hand through my messy hair.

“Stop?”

I knocked his hand away, smirking.

“Harris, bring her back.”

At my order, Mr. Harris brought Olivia back into the room.

Without hesitation, I grabbed a knife from the table and drove it straight into Olivia.

Blood sprayed from her abdomen, splattering across my face.

“Rachel Evans, what the hell are you doing?”

Michael lunged forward, pinning me against the wall, his hands crushing my shoulders.

“You said she was an accident, Michael. I helped you take care of the accident. Shouldn’t you be thanking me?”

I stared into his bloodshot eyes, then shoved the blade into his shoulder.

Hearing his muffled groan, I laughed.

“The small one I’ve dealt with. As for the big one—will you do it yourself, or should I do it for you?”

“Michael, I’m in pain. She killed our baby, Michael, kill her!”

Olivia’s cries tore through the air from the pool of blood on the floor.

So this was his so-called “clean” woman. Always screaming about killing—cleaner than us, indeed.

I glanced at Olivia writhing in pain, then shifted my gaze back to Michael.

“Choose one.”

Michael’s brows knitted tight.

“Rachel, you’ve gone too far this time!”

He ripped the knife from his shoulder, warm blood splattering across my face again.

“Rachel, you just got out. You should rest at home.”

Without another look at me, he turned and gently scooped Olivia into his arms, his voice soft and soothing.

“It’s okay, I’m here.”

That voice clenched at my chest, painfully familiar.

Back then, when he was dying in front of me, he wiped away my tears with the same words.

“Rachel, it’s okay. I’m here.”

So he really could say the exact same thing to another woman.

Watching Michael carry Olivia out to the mansion gates, I raised my hand, and my men quickly surrounded them.

“Sorry, Michael.”

At that signal, they launched their attack.

Michael had once been my father’s second-in-command, and these men had shared life-and-death battles with him. Yet for Olivia, he didn’t hesitate—he kicked one of them away and broke through with her in his arms.

In that moment, it felt like five years ago again, when he had stormed a warehouse single-handedly just to rescue me from kidnappers.

I collapsed to the ground, watching his vanishing back. After holding it in for so long, my tears finally broke free.

Wiping my face roughly, I stood. Harris had already ordered the blood cleaned from the floor.

Out of the shower, I washed away five years of grime. But my phone buzzed on the bed, over and over.

It was a photo from an unknown number. The pale face in it was one I knew all too well.

【Don’t think getting rid of my baby means Michael will return to you. He said once I recover, we’ll have a second, a third child.】

【He nearly died giving me a blood transfusion. Rachel Evans, no matter how much you once meant to him, now Michael loves only me!】

The final image was Olivia and Michael holding hands, fingers entwined, with a dazzling diamond ring flashing on her finger.

I screenshotted everything Olivia had sent me and forwarded it to Michael.

Staring at that radiant diamond, I tossed the matching necklace and earrings into the trash.

I had designed them myself. Michael had spent three sleepless nights crafting them by hand. He once told me he’d place the ring on my finger when we married.

But now the ring sat on another woman’s hand, and the rest felt dirty to me.

That night, lying in bed, I received Michael’s reply:

“She’s just a young woman who lost her child. She’s upset. Why stoop to her level?”

Seeing his words of defense, I laughed coldly and shut off my phone.

For several days, Michael didn’t return. When he finally did, his pale face was etched with anxiety.

“What is it? Your delicate flower died? Or are you here to take revenge on me?”

I trimmed fresh lilies without looking at him. Lilies were good—unlike roses, they weren’t ostentatious.

“Olivia’s missing.”

Michael’s voice was hoarse.

I didn’t stop my work. “So you think I kidnapped your delicate flower?”

“Rachel, I told you, Olivia isn’t like us. She’s clean.”

He rushed forward and grabbed the scissors from my hand.

“Rachel, don’t hurt her. Please.”

That word—please—froze me.

Even when I was kidnapped, he had never begged anyone. Yet now, for another woman, he begged me.

The pain pierced my chest like a thousand arrows.

I looked up, meeting his desperate eyes, then twisted the scissors in my hand. The tip pressed into his chest.

“Michael, wasn’t stabbing your shoulder last time painful enough?”

Blood from old and new wounds spread across Michael’s white shirt like a blooming crimson rose. I smiled.

Yes, I had always preferred roses.

“Rachel, have you calmed down? Will you tell me where Olivia is now?”

Michael groaned, sweat dripping from his brow.

I twisted the scissors in his chest.

“And if I say no?”

“Rachel Evans, you—”

“Mr. Carter, Miss Olivia has been found!”

Before Michael could finish, one of his men rushed in.

The instant Olivia’s name was mentioned, light flickered in Michael’s shadowed eyes. He yanked the scissors from his chest and flung them to the ground.

The sharp clatter echoed like the shattering of my heart.

“Rachel Evans.”

At the doorway, he paused, his voice colder than ice.

“I’ll get to the bottom of this. I hope it really had nothing to do with you.”

Olivia was brought back, one hand bandaged, her tearful face pressed against Michael’s chest.

He sat across from me, half his face hidden in shadow. His voice was low.

“Rachel, why?”

His fingers tapped the marble tabletop, a habit whenever he tried to suppress his anger.

I took a drag from my cigarette, then snuffed it out.

“So, Michael, you think this was me?”

“If not you, then who else?”

“She’s just a young girl. I’m the one who’s guilty, not her. Whatever you have against me, take it out on me. Why hurt her again and again?”

Michael tightened his hold around Olivia. The diamond ring on his long fingers glinted like a knife to my chest.

I remembered that rainy night years ago, when I was ambushed and bleeding out. He had shielded me, shouting:

“A group of men ganging up on one woman? Come at me instead!”

That night, he saved me. That night, I gave myself to him.

But now, those same words were spoken for another woman.

I said nothing. I walked into the kitchen.

When I returned, I slammed Olivia’s uninjured hand onto the table. Before anyone could react, the knife came down, piercing through her hand.

“Ahhh—!”

Olivia’s shriek tore through the air.

“Michael, I, Rachel Evans, don’t deny what I do. Since you claim it was me, then I’ll make it true.”

“As for your dog—”

I arched a brow at Olivia’s bandaged arm.

“She knows best how she got that injury.”

I ripped the knife free, blood splattering across me.

“Filthy.”

I tossed the knife aside and turned to change clothes. But Michael’s men restrained me.

“Rachel, this is the second time!”

Michael picked up the knife, striding toward me.

“So what if it’s the second time?”

I looked straight at him, yanking free of his men and rubbing my sore wrist.

“What is it, Michael? You want revenge?”

I placed my hand on the table.