After the details were settled, everyone left.

Shirley had just stepped into the yard when Myra shrank back, hiding behind Oscar.

"I'm sorry, Shirley. I shouldn't have made such a scene. I should've stayed in my room. It's just… I heard you all talking and got curious…"

Before Myra could finish, tears started streaming down her face.

Anyone watching might have thought Shirley had bullied her.

"Ms. Shirley, Myra didn't mean it. Don't take it out on her," Oscar said sharply, shielding her. "I know our engagement is set. As long as you promise to treat Myra better, I'll marry you."

Myra's face went pale as she trembled in Oscar's arms.

Shirley couldn't help but sneer. She wasn't even sure what she had done to make Oscar think she had hurt Myra.

Seeing the tattered dress Myra was wearing, she asked, "What are you wearing? Didn't Mom and Dad give you money for clothes? If you run around like that, people might think we're mistreating you."

"N-no, I just didn't want to spend the money. It's nobody's fault."

Before Shirley could respond, a man came charging straight at her.

"Go to hell, Shirley! I'm gonna make your family pay!"

Shirley immediately recognized him—Dominic Douglas, the CEO of Douglas Enterprise, the Bishops' longtime rival.

After the Bishops crushed Douglas Enterprise, Dominic went bankrupt and never fully recovered mentally.

In her past life, he had been the one to attack Shirley and cause her infertility.

As he rushed forward, Shirley's first instinct was to look at Oscar.

But like in her past life, he held Myra tightly against his chest.

"Get down! Myra, I got you!"

Those simple words stabbed straight into Shirley's heart.

The next second, a sharp blade cut into her arm.

Bright red blood splashed across her face, and pain shot through her like fire.

Shirley was about to call out to Oscar, but Myra had already wriggled free from his arms.

"Oscar, you're Shirley's bodyguard! Why are you protecting me? Ah, Shirley, you're hurt!"

"Die! I'll kill every one of you Bishops!" Dominic roared, swinging his knife at Myra.

But before Dominic could reach Myra, Oscar threw himself in front of her.

"Myra, watch out!"

The knife sliced into his back, blood soaking his white suit instantly.

The scene erupted into chaos. Someone shouted, "Protect Ms. Bishop!"

As Shirley panicked, Dominic's eyes locked on her again.

He raised his knife, ready to strike. Shirley shut her eyes and yelled, "Oscar, have you forgotten? You're my bodyguard!"

The blood-stained blade almost reached Shirley when a man yanked her into his arms just in time.

Shirley looked up and saw his cold, sharp jaw.

"Are you crazy? Don't you know how to dodge?"

The next second, he let her go and spun to fight Dominic.

Shirley finally realized—it was Jamie.

He had always said he hated her and wished she would die so he could be free.

But when danger came, he was always the first to jump in and protect her.

His fighting skills rivaled Oscar's. In a few moves, he had Dominic pinned.

Dominic had a knife, so Jamie got hurt in the process.

Seeing the blood on his arm, Shirley moved forward, but he stood with a smirk and said, "I'm fine. I'm just glad you're not dead."

Then he walked away without looking back.

Shirley started warming up to him.

"Are you okay, Shirley? Please don't blame Oscar. He protected me first because I was closer to him." Myra's sobs sounded in her ear.

Shirley looked up to see Oscar walking over, holding Myra safely.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Shirley… I—"

Oscar tried to explain, but Shirley cut him off coldly, "No need to explain yourself. I got hurt, and according to the rules, you have to be punished."

Oscar's expression barely changed when he heard that. His face stayed calm, distant, and cool as ever.

"Sure, I'll take the punishment."

The huge living room was silent under the massive crystal chandelier. Oscar kneeled perfectly still in the center of the hall.

His back had been slashed by Dominic earlier, and the blood slowly spread over his white suit.

Myra stood beside him, biting her lip so hard that it almost drew blood as she stared at his wound.

George and Theo were nearby, uneasy.

"Ms. Shirley, we're your bodyguards, too. It's our fault you got hurt. You can't just punish Oscar," George said.

"Yeah. We should be punished too," Theo added.

Shirley sat on the sofa as the family doctor disinfected her wound.

The cut had gone deep into her flesh. As the doctor cleaned it, waves of sharp pain shot through her body.

But the pain wasn't nearly as bad as what she felt in her heart.

She lifted her eyes casually toward the man kneeling before her.

Her voice was calm, almost indifferent. "When this happened, you two weren't around. So no punishment for you. But Oscar was here. He's the reason I got hurt, so I'm punishing him. Don't you think that's fair?"

Shirley rarely got this angry.

George and Theo exchanged glances, then continued to plead on his behalf.

"But he's your future husband! Don't you feel bad about punishing him while he's hurt?"

"Yeah, you have feelings for him. How could you punish him?"

Before Shirley could answer, Oscar, kneeling straight as a board, spoke, "If I could, Ms. Shirley, I'd rather not be the one you choose."

"Fine." Shirley stood, ordering someone to bring her the whip.

It was the same one Daniel had had made for her when the four bodyguards first joined the Bishops.

Fifteen years had passed, and she had never once used it.

"Since you're willing to take the punishment, I won't hold back," she said.

The moment the words left her mouth, the whip lashed down hard onto his back.

The sickening crack split the skin and flesh, and blood gushed out of his previous wound.

Myra screamed, "Oscar!"

But he didn't flinch or make a sound.

Shirley pressed her lips together, and her hand that was holding the whip shook.

The thought of how he had ruined her happiness in the last life made her tremble with anger.

As she lifted her injured arm to strike a second time, Myra suddenly lunged forward, taking the lash herself.

"Ah!" She screamed in pain, and Oscar, panicked, scooped her into his arms.

He glared at Shirley, his eyes sharp. "I won't let you touch her!"

"She threw herself in front of me. Why are you blaming me?" Shirley asked, raising the whip. "Who's gonna take the third strike—her or you?"

"Shirley, don't…"

Myra fainted from the pain, and Oscar's heart thumped as he held her tightly. "Myra, wake up! I'll get you help!"

He ran upstairs with her before shouting at the family doctor, who was standing frozen in the living room, "Get up here right now! If anything happens to Myra, you'll pay for it!"

The doctor glanced at Shirley and dared not breathe. Without her command, he didn't dare to do as Oscar said.

"Go," Shirley spat before tossing the whip on the floor.

Looking at the blood splattered across the floor and her arm's split wound, she said, "I don't want anyone dying in our house. Oh, and get me the thousand-year-old Devilroot that Dad gave me."

Theo asked quickly, "Are you giving it to Oscar to help him recover? If you're nice to him, I'm sure he'll admit his mistake."

"No," Shirley said firmly. "Give it to Jamie."

"Jamie?" The two exchanged a surprised glance. "I thought you hated him."

Shirley raised an eyebrow. "Who said I hated him?"

Early the next morning, Shirley ordered the servants to gather up everything related to Oscar and throw them away.

His worn clothes, used pens, school bag, and even the birthday gifts he'd given her—all of them went straight into the trash.

The servants looked confused. "Ms. Shirley, these were your most treasured things. Are you sure you don't want them anymore?"

Shirley pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yes. Throw them out."

She was just about to change and find Jamie when a servant shouted, "Ms. Shirley! Ms. Myra is at the door, begging to see you!"

Shirley frowned, her face darkening instantly.

"Shirley, I'm sorry about last night. Please don't be mad or blame Oscar, okay? I'm apologizing on his behalf!"

Shirley's eyes narrowed as she saw Myra trembling and crying at the door.

"Can you cut it out? All this pitiful act of yours is getting old."

Shirley stepped past her and was about to leave when Myra grabbed her ankle.

"No! I'm not leaving unless you forgive Oscar."

"What exactly do you want?" Shirley snapped. "Don't forget, everything you have today comes from me. Without me, you're nothing, let alone the Bishops' heiress."

"Hah." Myra's voice turned cold and mocking. "You think I care about status? Everyone treats me like your servant anyway. I'm here to beg you not to marry Oscar. He loves me and wants to marry me! I've been your shadow for years—it shouldn't be hard for you to grant me this one thing, right?"

Finally, she showed her true colors.

In the last life, Shirley hadn't realized Myra's deceit until it was too late.

Looking back, it was obvious. Myra had never been a kind person. All those years, she had acted helpless, and Shirley thought it was just shyness. But it was all fake—she'd been pretending to be the victim to capture Oscar's heart.

Too bad Oscar couldn't see it. He'd ignored the real Bishops heiress and went after a powerless foster daughter instead.

"What if I say I don't want to?" Shirley raised an eyebrow. "You're just a foster daughter. You have no right to demand anything! If you want to stay in my house, you'd better behave. Otherwise, forget about marrying into any of the four elite families!"

Hearing that, Myra gripped Shirley's ankle even tighter, her eyes gleaming with menace.

"Since you're so stubborn, I'll make you regret it!"

She dug her fingernails deep into Shirley's ankle, causing sharp pain to shoot up her leg.

"Let go!" Shirley was about to kick Myra before the latter rolled straight toward the stairs on her own.

"Ah! No, stop! It hurts!" Myra cried before tumbling down the stairs while Shirley watched, frozen in shock.

Right then, Oscar burst through the door. "Myra! Are you okay?"

He scooped her up and glared at Shirley, who was standing at the top of the stairs. "When will you stop? If you touch her again, I swear I will never marry you!"

Shirley's face stayed cold as she explained, "I didn't do anything. She fell down herself!"

"You're lying! I saw you kick her down the stairs with my own eyes!"

"Oscar, it's not Shirley's fault. It doesn't hurt!" Myra whimpered in his arms.

Oscar checked her over. "You've fractured a bone. Don't worry. I'll take you to the hospital."

On the way out, he noticed the bags the servants were carrying downstairs, all containing his belongings.

Looking at the stuff, he snorted. "We're not even married yet, and you're already moving my stuff to our new place? Nobody knows if we'll even get married!"

The servants stammered, "M-Mr. Miller, Ms. Shirley asked us to throw—"

"Enough. I don't have time for this nonsense."

Oscar left with Myra in his arms, not noticing the small, sly smile flicker across her lips.

But Shirley saw it.

She glanced down at her ankle to see ten fingernail marks pressed into her skin, raw and aching.

Oscar couldn't see it.

The servant asked hesitantly, "Ms. Shirley, what are we gonna do about these—"

"Throw them away," she spat.

She blinked through the sting in her eyes, counting down the days until the wedding.

She wanted to see Oscar's reaction when he found out he wasn't the person she was about to marry.