I stood at the doorway, each word from Frederick stabbing into me like a slow, torturous death.

Just as I was about to retreat, trying to escape this nightmare, Giselle spotted me through the crack in the bedroom door.

The door was suddenly flung open from the inside.

She stood there in a messy silk nightgown, thick gauze wrapped around her wrist. Her eyes landed on my disheveled, tear-stained face, and her lips curled into a scornful smile.

“I thought there's a thief,” she sneered. “Turns out it was just you. Not a single sound at all. Tsk. I didn't know you had a habit of eavesdropping.”

Frederick emerged moments later, wearing just one slipper, and a trace of panic in his expression when he saw me. But once our eyes met, he looked away, unsure what to say.

“If you’re not busy, go make dinner for Gracie,” he mumbled.

Perhaps he noticed how pale I looked because he coughed awkwardly and added, “Never mind. I’ll have someone deliver food instead.”

But Giselle wasn’t having it. She clung to Frederick’s arm, pouting and swaying slightly, pretending to be upset.

“No, I want Gracie to cook. I love her cola chicken wings. Just think of it as her way of apologizing to me. If she makes them, I’ll forgive her for scratching me.”

Frederick glanced at me, clearly unwilling to argue with her. He gave in with a gentle smile, the kind he used to give me.

“You heard her. Gracie only wants to eat what you cook. She’s always been kind, and she’s your best friend—you know her. Just making dinner isn’t a big deal. This is the most tolerance she’s willing to show.”

I clenched my fists so tightly my knuckles turned white, anger clouding my mind.

Frederick only cared about Giselle—her mood, her whims, her pain. Yet he completely ignored mine. Even now, I stood right outside their bedroom door, clearly having heard everything. Still, he acted like it didn’t matter.

“If she wants to eat, she can cook for herself,” I snapped. “Giselle, how shameless do you have to be to ask me—the woman you betrayed—to cook for you?”

My chest rose and fell violently as I turned my fury on Frederick.

“I can’t believe the man I loved became someone this disgusting after losing his memory. Maybe I never truly knew you. Frederick, tomorrow I’ll make the divorce public. We’re over.”

His brows drew tightly together, clearly not expecting me to be so direct.

“Gracie, don’t forget—I bought this villa for you when we got engaged. I’ve already told my friends, my family, even business partners. And now you just want to end it? Do you know how much I’ll have to clean up after you? My company is about to go public! Didn’t you say you loved me? Why are you trying to ruin me at the most critical moment?”

He let out a cold snort.

“And don’t forget—you’re just an orphan. Without me, where would you go? I could ruin your career with just one sentence.”

My blood boiled. I pointed at the swollen, raw scar on my face, tears threatening to spill again as I stared into his eyes.

“See this scar? The Frederick I loved would never have ignored it. You’re not him—you’re just a backstabbing, disgusting liar.”

With that, I pushed past him and stepped into the bedroom.

I looked around the once-familiar space—our wedding room. All the photos of him and Giselle were gone, or probably hidden. But I knew they had been here. I had seen them.

I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.

“Still trying to fool yourself, Frederick? Do you really think I haven’t seen the wedding photos you took with Giselle? The sunrise hike, the mountaintop, the aurora, the beach vacation—those were all places you promised to take me. And don’t think I didn’t notice the baby crib in the corner. This is what you call preparing for our wedding?”

“We’ll talk about this later. You’re clearly exhausted and imagining things,” he said, grabbing my arm.

Before I could react, he forced me down the stairs and shoved me into the guest room. He locked the door behind me, then left with Giselle.

He said they'd bring food back after dinner.

Fortunately, he hadn’t taken my phone.

With trembling hands, I dialed a number I had saved for a long time.

“Senior,” I said, voice shaking. “Do you remember the promise you made to me on the cruise? Does it still count?”

“Of course,” he said gently. “If you’re ready to leave, I’ll pick you up. Has Frederick agreed?”

“We’re getting divorced. His opinion doesn’t matter anymore,” I said flatly.

“Then let me know when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting.”

I had gotten my passport six months ago, but I never used it, hoping we'd finally take that long-overdue trip.

But instead, I found photos of Frederick and Giselle traveling together—right there, displayed on the clock in that bedroom.

All the places he once promised to take me... he went with her.

Now I would go on my own.

After hanging up, I called the fire department and told them I had accidentally locked myself in the room and couldn’t get out.

It didn’t take long for the firefighters to get me out.

I left the villa immediately and took a cab back into the city—to the apartment Frederick and I once shared.

It had been a while since I was last here. A fine layer of dust coated every surface, as if this place had forgotten me as well.

Not wanting to waste any more time, I packed while searching online for a rental agent. I had nowhere else to go after leaving that house, and I needed a new place—fast.

Bitterness welled up inside me, but I had nowhere to put it. I shoved my clothes into my suitcase one by one, each fold and zip laced with heartbreak.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook me, and I lay down for a brief rest.

I never expected Giselle to show up here.

I woke to her shoving me hard, disoriented and choking on thick, acrid smoke. I coughed violently as the smell of burning filled my lungs.

Tears streamed down her face as she clutched her stomach in a panic.

"The house is on fire! I’m pregnant with Frederick’s baby—you have to save me!"

I froze, stunned by her words. What was she doing here? How did she even find this apartment? And why the hell was it suddenly on fire?

I leapt out of bed and rushed to the bedroom door—only to be greeted by thick smoke billowing through the living room. The flames had already engulfed the furniture and curtains.

A pile of delivery boxes near the front door was ablaze, completely blocking the only exit.

My eyes stung, and I could barely breathe.

I grabbed a thin blanket, soaked it with water in the bathroom, and was about to cover my face when Giselle snatched it from me.

"I’m carrying Frederick’s child," she snapped. "If anything happens to me here, do you think Frederick will ever forgive you?"

I didn’t answer. Instead, I soaked another towel, covered my nose and mouth, and opened the window. With a solid blow, I smashed the glass from the inside.

Fire trucks had already arrived outside.

Just then, my phone buzzed—it was Frederick calling.

For a fleeting moment, I hoped he might be worried about me, that he might care. But the moment I picked up, his voice thundered through the phone.

"Gracie, I can’t believe how vicious you’ve become! You lured Gracie there and set the place on fire just to hurt her?! I swear, if you lay a finger on her, I won’t forgive you!"

"Frederick, are you really going to believe everything she says? If I wanted to hurt her, would I be stupid enough to trap myself in here too?"

But he didn’t want to hear it. He dismissed my words like they meant nothing.

The fire was growing. Giselle had already climbed halfway out the window. One slip and she would fall.

Suddenly, the firefighters burst through the door, blasting the flames with high-pressure hoses. A path opened through the smoke.

Frederick followed them in.

He froze when he saw Giselle dangling halfway out the window, eyes wide with terror.

At that moment, I was right beside her.

To escape the thick smoke, Giselle clung to my arm, her entire body leaning desperately outward. The smoke was thick, and she was using me to keep from falling.

The moment she saw Frederick, her eyes welled with tears.

“Frederick, you’re finally here! I was so scared—I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Don’t be afraid, I’m here. I’ve got you.”

He stepped toward her—but just as he reached us, Giselle shoved me with all her strength.

I crashed to the floor, my arm landing on a piece of charred wood, searing pain shooting through me as the burned edge scorched my skin.

Giselle tilted backward toward the open window.

Everyone gasped.

Luckily, Frederick lunged just in time and pulled her into his arms.

“I-I was so scared... If you hadn’t caught me... I would’ve died,” she sobbed, trembling in his embrace.

“You’re safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Then he looked at me—his eyes full of cold fury.

Without hesitation, he raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face.

“Gracie! Why did you push her? Do you realize if I hadn’t caught her, she and our baby could have died? How could you be so cruel?!”

The pain in my burned arm was blinding, but it couldn’t compare to the pain in my heart.

He held Giselle protectively in his arms while looking at me like I was nothing but trash.

“Don’t blame Gracie,” Giselle whimpered. “Maybe... maybe it was an accident...”

“Accident?!” Frederick scoffed. “There are so many people here—are they all blind? Gracie, you tricked Gracie into coming here, started a fire, and tried to push her from a window! You’re really despicable. People like you belong in prison to reflect on what you’ve done!”

“I didn’t do it!” I firmly denied.

“Gracie,” Giselle said with a trembling voice, “I don’t know if you truly hate me... You said you wanted to talk today, to clear the air between us. But why did you drug my water? Why did you set a fire? Why did you try to push me out the window? At first, I thought it was all just a terrible coincidence... but were you really not trying to kill me?”

Her words twisted the atmosphere like a knife.

Frederick's face darkened instantly, his eyes filled with cold fury. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and dangerous.

“There’s still half a cup of water on the bedside table. If I call the police and have it tested, what excuse will you have then?”

My eyes burned as I shook my head. My voice was hoarse as I spoke. “I didn’t hurt her. This was all a setup—something she staged to frame me. That cup of water? I drank from it. Whatever she’s saying, it’s not the truth.”

“I don’t even know how she got into this apartment. You’re the one who told me—this place only has our fingerprints registered.”

At the mention of fingerprints, something flickered in Frederick’s gaze. He looked uneasy. But just then, Giselle cried out and collapsed against him, clutching her belly.

Frederick panicked and caught her instantly, lifting her into his arms.

“Save it for the police. You don’t seem seriously hurt—no need to waste emergency resources.”

After saying that, he rushed her to the hospital.

On the other hand, I was taken to the police station. The burns on my arm were hastily wrapped with gauze. No concern. No care.

After five days in custody, I was suddenly told I could go home. Apparently, Giselle had chosen not to press charges. They told me I should “turn over a new leaf.”

Walking out of the police station, I felt hollow—like someone had scooped out everything inside me. I barely had the strength to stay on my feet.

Not far off, Frederick’s car door opened. He stepped out, helping Giselle gently down.

All I could think of was getting away from here.

“You’re coming to the product launch the day after tomorrow,” he said flatly. “As my fiancée, you better start acting the part.”

“I’m not going,” I said without turning around. “Isn’t she right there beside you? Why not take the real star of your show?”

Frederick’s brows furrowed, his tone sharp. “Don’t be ungrateful. If I hadn’t already made our engagement public, do you really think I’d still want to bring you?”

“You can just post another update—tell them we’ve divorced. What’s so hard about that?” I clapped back.

“You ungrateful woman!” Giselle snapped. “If Frederick weren’t doing this for me, he wouldn’t even be looking at you! A vicious person like you doesn’t deserve him!”

She paused, casting a glance at the bandages on my arm.

“Oh, and cover that ugly thing properly on the launch day. Don’t ruin the event.”

I looked straight at Frederick, and for the first time, truly saw him for who he was.

All these days, he hadn’t even noticed I was hurt.

I was nothing to him.

“Fine,” I said quietly. “See you at the launch.”

I turned and walked away.

“Gracie! Frederick came here to pick you up personally! Don’t be ungrateful!”

“I don’t ride in garbage trucks,” I called back over my shoulder.

—

I returned to the apartment complex where Frederick and I used to live.

The place was scorched beyond recognition. But I was lucky—my ID and a few pieces of luggage had been saved from the fire.

I took them back to my rental, packed everything neatly, and made my decision.

On the day of the launch, I arrived at the company building—but only to deliver a document to Frederick’s secretary.

Inside the folder was a divorce agreement, neatly signed and sealed.

“I’m heading to the styling team,” I said casually.

But I didn’t go there.

I went straight to the airport.

As I boarded the plane, Frederick’s launch event officially began.

But I never showed up.

Frederick stood on stage, maintaining a calm façade while tension simmered beneath.

When reporters asked about me, he forced a smile. “She had an urgent matter. She’ll be here soon.”

Just then, an assistant came rushing up.

“Mr. Jones, Adams’s phone is off. But she asked me to give you this.”

He took the folder with a clenched jaw and stormed backstage.

Inside, his hands trembled slightly as he opened the envelope.

The moment he saw the signed divorce papers, his lips pressed into a thin, furious line.

“Keep calling her,” he ordered coldly. “Don’t stop until she answers.”

My cell phone was flooded with calls, so I turned it off. This time, I wanted to completely get rid of everything that made me sad.