At seven o'clock that evening, I appeared precisely on time in the banquet hall on the top floor of the Landing Hotel.

Quincy was surrounded by a crowd in the center of the hall, her pink dress making her look stunning. Griffin stood beside her, speaking to her with a gentle expression I had never seen before.

My appearance caused the laughter and chatter at the door to pause for a moment. Whispering gossip, like mosquitoes, began to swarm around me.

"She actually came..."

"I wouldn't have the face to come. My husband is throwing a birthday party for his mistress and today happens to be my wedding anniversary..."

Griffin saw me, his smile faded slightly, his brows furrowed a little and he led Quincy towards me. “Now that you’re here, behave yourself.” His voice carried an unquestionable command.

“If anyone asks about last night’s bar incident, you know what to say.”

I remained silent, my gaze fixed on the spot where he held Quincy’s wrist. His knuckles were distinct; he had once held my hand like that. Quincy leaned against him obediently, her eyes crinkling as she looked at me, her voice soft and tender.

“Suzy, it’s so good you came. Come play some games with us, everyone’s waiting.”

Empty bottles and cards sat on the table. Everyone around me stared, their eyes filled with the excitement of watching a spectacle.

“Yes, Mrs. Beckham, let’s play together,” a short-haired woman said with a smile. “Quincy lost earlier and when asked about her first kiss, she readily admitted it was with Mr. Beckham.”

A murmur of knowing laughter rippled through the crowd. Griffin didn’t deny it, simply taking a sip of his drink.

Quincy blushed slightly and said coquettishly, "Stop fooling around, whose turn is it?"

The bottle spun on the table, finally landing squarely on me.

"Wow, Mrs. Beckham!" The short-haired woman excitedly pulled out a card. "Let me see, please choose Truth or Dare?"

Everyone looked at me.

I looked at the card, then at Quincy's expectant eyes and said calmly, "Truth."

The short-haired woman immediately cleared her throat, her voice rising, "I heard Mrs. Beckham has a seriously ill mother in bed and a younger brother who almost got arrested for harassing women. And you yourself seem to have trouble keeping your husband's heart. In comparison, Quincy is young, beautiful, successful and perfectly matched with Mr. Beckham."

She leaned forward, asking each word clearly, "Faced with this situation, doesn't Mrs. Beckham feel like a pathetic woman desperately holding onto your position?”

The words fell silent; even the background music seemed to stop. Everyone held their breath, looking at me, then furtively at Griffin and Quincy.

Quincy covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide, looking both shocked and... "Hey, how could you ask such a question? That's too much..." she said innocently.

"It's just a game," the short-haired woman chuckled. "Besides, everyone's actually quite curious..."

"Curious about what?" I interrupted her, my voice surprisingly calm. "Curious about why I haven't left yet, is that it?"

Griffin frowned. "Suzy, stop it."

I ignored him, stood up and looked coldly at Quincy. "You think so too, don't you?"

Quincy's expression changed slightly. She opened her mouth, seemingly trying to put on her usual innocent act. But I didn't give her a chance to speak.

"So last night you deliberately dragged my brother into the private room, accidentally spilled wine on yourself and then framed him for harassment? While my mother was undergoing surgery, you deliberately left, worsening her condition? Knowing that my mother urgently needed money for surgery, you still insisted that Griffin use it to buy you a birthday present?"

The words fell silent and all eyes turned to Quincy.

Quincy's face turned pale visibly and she instinctively gripped Griffin's arm tightly. She said, "Suzy, how could you say that to me? I know you hate me, but you can't frame such a vicious lie..."

I sneered, "Whether I'm wrong or not, you yourself..."

Before I could finish, Griffin raised his head and slapped me hard across the face. The crisp sound of the slap was particularly jarring in the quiet hall and I was jolted to the side. My cheek went numb instantly, followed by a burning pain.

"Suzy, have you gone mad?" Griffin's eyes were frighteningly cold, his voice filled with overwhelming rage.

"Look at yourself now. You're nothing but an unreasonable shrew!" He took a step forward, his tall figure looming over me, exuding a strong sense of oppression.

"Quincy is the expert I hired, she's done her best, yet you repay kindness with enmity, repeatedly making false accusations. It seems I've been too lenient with you." He gave me a disgusted look, then turned to the bodyguard at the door and snapped, "Take her out of here, don't embarrass me again..."

Before he could finish the word, several gasps of surprise came from the distance.

"Is that chandelier swaying?"

I instinctively looked up. Right above us, the enormous crystal chandelier was swaying violently.

"Watch out!"

Griffin's expression changed drastically. He whirled around, grabbing the trembling Quincy beside him and pulling her into his arms, shielding her with his back. But in that instant of turning and pulling, his arm slammed into my shoulder.

Already staggered from the slap, I was caught completely off guard and fell backward. Almost simultaneously, with a deafening crash, the heavy chandelier crashed down. I fell heavily to the ground, the back of my head hitting the floor and my vision went black.

The next second, the chandelier came crashing down on me. A shard of glass grazed my forehead and blood immediately gushed out, blurring my vision. But an even sharper pain came from my lower abdomen.

In the instant I fell, my lower abdomen slammed hard against the corner of the table beside me. An indescribable, excruciating pain surged through me; I could even clearly feel a warm, uncontrollable flow gushing from between my legs.

Many people who witnessed this gasped in shock. However, despite the commotion, Griffin didn't even turn to look at me.

He gripped Quincy's shoulders tightly, his voice stern as he berated her, "Are you stupid? The lamp was about to fall and you didn't even try to dodge?" "

As he spoke, he anxiously checked her for injuries, his face showing a panic and heartache I hadn't seen in a long time. Quincy nestled in his arms, sobbing softly, unharmed.

"Griffin..." I called out to him in a hoarse voice, "Take me to the hospital... my stomach... it hurts so much..."

Griffin turned around at the sound of my voice and saw my face covered in blood and my body a mess. A look of panic flashed across his face immediately and he instinctively walked towards me.

"Griffin," Quincy in his arms let out a weak groan, "my chest feels so tight, I can't breathe..."

Griffin's body tensed instantly and he immediately stopped, holding Quincy even tighter.

"Don't be afraid, I'm here, we'll go to the hospital right away."

He didn't look at me again, scooped Quincy up in his arms and turned to run quickly out of the banquet hall.

"Griffin...save me..." My pleas faded after he turned away and my vision began to blur.

The others around me watched silently as I lay in a pool of blood, pleading. No one dared to approach. Before my last breath of consciousness faded, I saw countless mocking and sarcastic glances and Griffin's increasingly blurry figure carrying Quincy.

I opened my eyes again in a VIP hospital room. The doctor told me the impact had caused a miscarriage; the baby couldn't be saved. I was stunned for a few seconds before realizing I'd been pregnant without my knowledge.

The room door was open and I could hear the nurses talking in the hallway.

"Miss Brown is so lucky, but she was too shocked; Mr. Beckham stayed with her all night."

"But Mrs. Beckham suffered a fracture and miscarriage and Mr. Beckham didn't even come to see her. It's true, old flames can never compare to new ones."

"Who says otherwise? But I heard that someone who gossiped at the banquet and deliberately asked sarcastic questions, had her family's company suddenly investigated this morning; bankruptcy is imminent."

"And the two workers responsible for repairing the hotel chandeliers were taken away last night. It's said… Mr. Beckham personally intervened."

"Well, it seems Mrs. Beckham isn't entirely without a place in Mr. Beckham's heart."

I listened with my eyes closed, but my heart was ice-cold. Griffin did all this, not for me at all. It was simply because someone had dared to harm his wife on his territory, damaging the Beckham Family's reputation. If he truly cared, I wouldn't be sitting here listening to this gossip alone.

For the next three days, I stayed in the hospital. The news and social media, however, were abuzz. Griffin spent lavishly to comfort the frightened Quincy.

He held a solo exhibition for her at the city's art museum, even though Quincy's works seemed laughably naive to me, Suzy Flynn, a former art academy prodigy. He bought a set of jade jewelry, once in the collection of European royalty, at a high price at an auction, named it "Quincy," and presented it to her in an ostentatious display.

Just because Quincy casually mentioned liking Venice, he chartered a private jet, planning to take her there for a relaxing vacation.

I calmly scrolled past these notifications. I suddenly remembered that when we first got married, I had cautiously mentioned wanting to see the Northern Lights in Norway. Griffin was working on documents at the time and didn't even look up, "What's so interesting about that harsh, cold place? The company's busy; don't make any trouble."

After that, I never mentioned it again.

That afternoon, I called a nurse, dragged my still-recovering body, completed the administration alone and left the hospital.

Back in that cold villa, I entered the password and the lock beeped with an error message. I tried again; still wrong. The password had been changed.

I rang the doorbell and a few seconds later the door opened, but it wasn't a maid; it was Quincy. She was wearing soft loungewear, her long hair loosely tied up, like the lady of the house.

Seeing me return, she showed just the right amount of surprise, then smiled gently, "You back? Come in quickly, Griffin is helping me pick out a dress."

My gaze passed over her and landed on Griffin sitting on the sofa in the living room, holding a wedding dress catalog.

"Why did you change the password?" I asked coldly.

Quincy blinked, her voice soft, "Well, I've been a light sleeper lately and I'm always worried about safety. Griffin said to change the password to my birthday, so I feel more at ease. Suzy, you don't mind, do you?"

Griffin then looked up at the door, his brow furrowing slightly, "Why were you discharged from the hospital?"

Looking at his expression and reaction, I suddenly felt that even questioning him was superfluous. I couldn't stay a second longer and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Griffin's voice came from behind me.

I didn't turn around. "Griffin," my voice was soft, yet each word was clear, "Three days."

"What three days?"

"Three days from now is your birthday."

It would also the day I leave. I didn't finish the sentence. I turned and glanced at him, my eyes calm and unwavering, as if looking at a stranger.

"That day, I will give you a gift you will never forget."