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.

“Michael Carter, do it!”

He froze when he saw my hand outstretched. Step by step, he walked toward me with the knife.

His hand rose, blade poised, but just inches from me he stopped.

Pressing his lips together, he dropped the knife and turned to Olivia White.

“Rachel, one last time. I’ll give you one last chance.”

His voice was soft, yet it pierced straight into my ears.

Watching him support Olivia as they left, and seeing her cast me that sorrowful, resentful look over her shoulder, pain nearly suffocated me.

After that, Michael didn’t return home for several days. Meanwhile, I tried to adjust to life outside of prison.

But I never expected Olivia to show up a week later, holding my parents’ heirloom jewelry.

“Be smart and hand it back to me.”

I aimed my gun at her, but she only covered her mouth and laughed.

“Rachel Evans, Michael loves me. Why won’t you just leave?”

“My business with him is none of yours. Give it back.”

The bullet was already chambered.

“And if I say no?”

Olivia’s smile widened. With a sharp crack, the bracelet shattered into pieces.

At the same instant, without hesitation, I pulled the trigger.

As the deafening gunshot tore through the air, a dark blur rushed in front of me. Michael shielded Olivia with his body. The bullet grazed his shoulder, blood seeping out.

“Rachel, have you had enough?”

He held Olivia protectively behind him, his gaze sharp and dangerous like a wolf.

“Michael, if you can’t control your delicate flower, then I’ll do it for you.”

I pointed at the shattered fragments on the ground.

“We could’ve stayed in peace, but your delicate flower insisted on coming here to court death. Shouldn’t I grant her wish?”

Michael’s eyes flickered at the broken pieces, but he quickly regained his calm.

“Your parents have been dead for years. Keeping things from the dead around only brings bad luck.”

“Michael, I dare you to say that again.”

His words made my blood run cold.

He had gone through fire with my father. My father had saved him more than once. And yet, now he said this.

Unable to contain the storm inside me, I fired again.

“Look out—”

The thunderous sound echoed once more, but Olivia shoved Michael aside at the last second. The bullet missed him, grazing her pale neck instead, streaks of blood trickling down.

“Rachel Evans…”

Michael’s eyes burned red as he saw her blood. He rushed forward and clamped his hand around my throat.

“Why? Why do you always have to hurt her?”

His furious eyes made my heart ache. This was the second time he had raised his hand against me—for Olivia.

“All that for just a scratch?”

I arched a brow.

“Kill me then. Make way for the two of you.”

“Rachel, don’t push me.”

I knew Michael wouldn’t kill me. Just as I knew that even with Olivia by his side, he still loved me. The madness we once shared couldn’t be replaced by Olivia.

Shaking, he released me, then lifted Olivia into his arms.

“Rachel, I’ll make sure Olivia disappears from your sight. But you—stop hurting her!”

His voice was hoarser than ever.

Holding her tighter, he looked back at me from the shadows, his eyes unreadable.