Until I was truly gone, I didn't want to stir up trouble.

"The morning sickness has been pretty bad lately. I'm going to the hospital to get it checked out."

Randolph visibly froze for a second.

As if it only just hit him that he hadn't spared a single thought for his pregnant girlfriend's wellbeing these past few days.

Something uneasy flickered in his eyes, and he hesitated, half-considering whether to stay.

But the next second, another message from Nanette lit up his phone, urging him to hurry.

That sliver of hesitation crumbled like it had never existed.

"Then go back to the house and rest. Don't stay out overnight."

He tossed out the instruction and was gone from the apartment before the words had settled.

His choice didn't surprise me. I was used to it by now.

But I did need to go back to the Delgado house. My personal documents were still there, and I'd need them for tomorrow's procedure.

The next morning, when the housekeeper led me through the front door of the villa, I stopped dead.

In barely half a day, the place I'd called home for years had been gutted.

The matching couple figurines that used to sit on the entryway table were gone.

The rug beside the sofa, the one Randolph and I had picked out together, had been swapped for something new.

The wedding portrait on the wall, the one we'd taken months ahead of schedule, had vanished without a trace.

Even knowing what I knew, my chest seized before I could stop it.

I forced the feeling down and headed for the stairs.

That was when the smell hit me. Acrid. Burning.

"Miss Fox, these things... they belong to the lady of the house, don't they? Burning them doesn't seem right..."

The nanny's voice carried from somewhere nearby.

Nanette's reply came laced with undisguised malice:

"Lady of the house? Get your facts straight. I'm the future mistress of this family."

"This junk was an eyesore. So what if I burned it?"

My brain whited out. I didn't think. I just ran toward the backyard.

Firelight danced against the stone.

A pile of belongings had been thrown into a bonfire, already half-consumed.

These were the director's things. The woman who raised me at the orphanage. Her keepsakes. Her last traces on this earth.

I lost my mind. I lunged at the fire without a second thought, bare hands reaching straight into the flames.

"Crystal, are you insane?!"

Nanette stumbled back a step, startled.

I didn't spare her a glance.

Fire seared my skin, the pain boring down to bone, but I couldn't feel it. I clawed everything I could reach out of the blaze, dragging it free with both hands.

Blisters rose instantly across my palms.

I gritted my teeth and smothered the flames with my body, shaking so hard I could barely stay upright.

When I finally looked up, my eyes were raw and burning.

"What is wrong with you, Nanette? Why would you burn my things?"

Nanette stared down at me from where she stood, untouched.

"They were an eyesore. So I burned them."

"Besides, who knows if this junk from some orphanage is even clean?"

"What if it carries diseases?"

One breezy sentence, and she'd insulted both me and the woman who raised me in a single breath.

The last thread holding me together snapped.

I swung my arm and slapped her across the face with everything I had.

The force knocked Nanette sideways. She opened her mouth to curse at me, but a voice cut through first:

"Crystal, what the hell are you doing?!"

Randolph's voice cracked through the air like a whip.

He stormed over and shoved me away without a heartbeat of hesitation.

I staggered backward, nearly falling into the still-smoldering fire pit.

He was already pulling Nanette into his arms.

"Why did you hit her?" His face was terrifyingly dark.

My voice broke. "She burned the director's things!"

Randolph knew better than anyone what those keepsakes meant to me.

He knew the orphanage director had been the closest thing to a mother I'd ever had.

In that moment, I still believed that just this once, he would take my side.

But Randolph only frowned, his tone clipped with impatience.

"It's just some old junk."

"Nanette thought it was trash and cleaned it out. She meant well."

"Why would you hit her over that?"

My heart stopped.

Right on cue, Nanette's eyes reddened, her voice going soft and wounded:

"I'm sorry, Crystal. I really didn't know those things meant so much to you..."

"I was just worried they weren't sanitary. I didn't want Randolph getting sick..."

"You don't need to apologize." Randolph cut her off, his voice hard as iron. "If anyone owes an apology, it's her."

He turned to me. His gaze went cold.

"Crystal. Apologize to Nanette. Now."

There is no grief greater than a dead heart.

I stared at the man in front of me, hollow with disappointment.

He looked like a stranger.

"I won't apologize." Each word fell from my lips, frozen solid. "I did nothing wrong."

"She did it on purpose. If you don't believe me, ask the nanny."

The nanny nodded quickly. "It's true, sir. Miss Fox, she..."

Randolph cut her off without looking. "A nanny's word means nothing."

"Randolph, my face hurts so much..." Nanette's tears spilled instantly. She cupped her cheek, sucking in a delicate breath.

His expression hardened.

"Since these things are causing this much trouble,"

he bent down and picked up the lighter from the ground,

"then get rid of them for good."

"Maybe then you'll stop acting like a lunatic."

The flame snapped back to life with a sharp pop.

Every muscle in my body locked. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

"Randolph, what are you doing?!"

The scream tore out of me raw, and I threw myself toward the fire.

But he caught me from behind, arms clamping around me like a vice.

I thrashed against him, my voice cracking apart:

"I was wrong... I was wrong, okay..."

"I'll apologize. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Just put out the fire, please?"

"I'm begging you, Randolph!"

This was the first time I had ever broken down like this. The first time I had begged him on my knees.

Something clenched in Randolph's chest. His grip loosened, just barely.

I seized that split second, wrenched free, and threw myself into the flames.

Fire licked up my arms. The pain went past sharp into numb.

But in the end, the only thing I pulled out was a watch, blackened beyond recognition.

I knelt on the ground, hollowed out. Like someone had reached inside me and scooped out everything that made me whole.

The sounds around me faded to nothing.

I didn't register anything until Randolph hauled me to my feet.

He looked at me, and for one instant, regret flashed through his eyes. The recognition that he'd gone too far.

But then his gaze landed on Nanette's swollen cheek, and that flicker of regret vanished as cleanly as if it had never been there.

"Let this be a lesson."

"Now you'll know what's acceptable and what isn't. You're supposed to be the future Mrs. Delgado. You can't go around slapping people like some common shrew."

I didn't want to hear another word. I just stared at him, eyes bloodshot, looking at him the way you look at an enemy.

The look cut him. He flinched, glanced away. Then the flinch curdled into anger at my defiance.

"You still don't think you were wrong?"

He grabbed my arm and dragged me into the bedroom we used to share, locking the door behind him.

"Then sit in here and cool off!"

I couldn't fight him. All I could do was stand there, trapped, the scorched watch still clutched in my blistered hand.

My eyes burned. But not a single tear would come.

I stood against the door for a long, long time. My legs went numb before I finally managed to calm down.

Since I couldn't get out, I might as well start packing what was mine.

I threw every dress, every handbag Randolph had ever given me into the trash.

It wasn't until I was done that I realized.

All I could actually take with me was an ID card and my personal documents.

Nothing else.

Randolph didn't let me out until the following evening, for dinner.

He noticed the things in the trash. I saw him pause.

"What kind of tantrum is this?"

I just smiled faintly.

"They got old. I stopped liking them. So I tossed them."

That shut him up. He was quiet for a beat, and when he spoke again, it was in that tone of his, the one that made everything sound like charity:

"I'll buy you new ones in a couple days. Consider it an apology."

"Come eat. And be nice to Nanette. She's only staying a few days."

"Stop being jealous and picking fights with her."

He paused at the end, just slightly.

"Burning those things... I may have gone too far."

"But people need to move forward. The director's been gone a long time now."

I nodded. My voice was flat.

"Fine."

He'd gotten what should have been my forgiveness, but something about it made Randolph uneasy.

I was standing right in front of him, yet he felt like I was already far away.

Tomorrow was the last day of my arrangement with the Gilbert family.

My plan was simple: wake up, go through with the surgery, and leave.

But in the dead of night, the bedroom door slammed open. Before I could even register what was happening, Randolph hauled me out of bed and dragged me down the hall to the room next door.

His grip was brutal, like he wanted to break me apart. The moment he let go, I slammed into the wall. Pain exploded across my back and my vision went black.

Before I could recover, his voice came down from above, raw with fury.

"Crystal, is this how badly you can't stand Nanette? You're so jealous you'd drug her?"

My ears rang. My vision swam, then slowly focused.

On the bed, Nanette's cheeks were flushed, her clothes disheveled. She was practically draped over Randolph, whimpering and pressing herself into his arms.

"It wasn't me."

My voice was hoarse, but I forced the words out. "I didn't do anything like that."

The moment I finished speaking, Nanette flinched as though she'd been struck. The tears came instantly.

"Crystal... the only thing I ate tonight was the dessert you had the housekeeper bring me. I didn't touch anything else..."

"I had someone bring you dessert?" I stared at her, my expression ice cold.

"You burned the director's keepsakes, and you think I'd send you a treat? Nanette, do you really think that highly of yourself?"

My voice dropped lower, shaking with barely contained rage. "And what would I even gain from drugging you? If you're going to frame someone, at least come up with a believable story."

"Enough with the excuses."

Randolph cut in, irritation thick in his voice.

"The housekeeper already admitted you told her to do it."

"Witness and evidence, both accounted for. How am I supposed to believe you?"

The cold seeped into my chest, inch by inch. I hadn't imagined that in Randolph's mind, I was someone capable of this.

"What witness? What evidence?"

I bit down hard on my lip, the words grinding out between my teeth.

"This house has security cameras everywhere. If you really think I did it, then check the footage. One look and you'll know the truth."

I held his gaze, stubborn, refusing to bend.

I would not confess to something I didn't do.

Randolph hesitated. Just for a second.

But then Nanette let out a soft, shuddering gasp and clung to him tighter, her voice trembling and paper-thin.

"Randolph, it hurts so much... please help me, please..."

Her collar had slipped. Pale skin spilled into view.

Randolph's hand froze. Instinct told him to push her away.

But Nanette ducked her head and sank her teeth into her own arm without a moment's hesitation. Hard.

Blood welled up instantly.

Bright red, streaming down her skin. Impossible to look away from.

"I know you only see me as a little sister, Randolph. I know this whole marriage these past few days was just an act. It's my fault for letting myself get lost in how sweet it felt, for letting myself imagine you might care about me, even a little..."

Her voice shook. The tears fell harder.

"I'll handle it myself. Don't worry about me. I don't want to be a burden to either of you anymore..."

Randolph's expression changed completely. He grabbed her arm to stop her from biting down again, pulling her into his arms to hold her still. When he spoke, his voice was rough and strained.

"Stop hurting yourself. I'll help you."

I stared at Randolph, almost certain I'd misheard him.

But there was no guilt on his face. Only disappointment. In me.

"Crystal, I thought you were different from all those petty, scheming women. Above using dirty tricks to bully people. But I was wrong."

My throat clenched. It felt like someone was carving my chest open, one slow cut at a time.

"Since you're the one who drugged her," Randolph said, refusing to meet my eyes, "then the consequences are yours to bear."

Nanette nestled obediently against his chest, but her gaze found mine over his shoulder, bright with undisguised triumph.

A violent cramp tore through my lower abdomen, something twisting and churning inside me. The pain nearly buckled my knees.

I gritted through it, my voice cold and cutting. "Randolph, where is your brain? I drugged Nanette and then sent my own boyfriend to be the cure?"

"And when you could've just called a private doctor..."

Before I could finish, Nanette let out a soft whimper and pressed her hand to her wound.

"Randolph, just go. Don't worry about me. I'm afraid if you actually help me, my sister will hate me even more."

"And don't blame her, either. She just loves you too much. That's why she did something like this."

I'd already decided to let go of Randolph, but I still couldn't stand there and let Nanette spew lies that dragged my character through the mud.

"Nanette, have you no shame? You drugged yourself, then threw yourself at my boyfriend and pointed the finger at me. Were you raised by wolves?"

Crack.

The words barely left my mouth before Randolph stood and slapped me across the face.

The force whipped my head to the side. A high-pitched ringing flooded my ears.

"Crystal, Nanette never once said she wanted anything done to you, but you haven't stopped attacking her. Guess that's what happens when you grow up in an orphanage. Not an ounce of class."

"Since you love drugging people so much, tonight you're going to sit here and watch exactly what that costs."

Before I could react, he'd dragged me to a chair and bound me to it with strips of clothing.

As he pulled off his shirt, he left me with one last sentence: "You brought this on yourself. Don't blame me."

A bone-deep chill spread through me.

The entire night, I watched the man I'd loved for ten years sleep with another woman.

Panting. Wet kisses. The sounds circled my ears like a curse that wouldn't break.

And the whole time, my abdomen screamed with pain. Cold sweat soaked through every layer I wore.

I tried to call for help, but Randolph dismissed it as another ploy for attention. Moments later, Nanette's moans grew louder, drowning me out.

At first I still cried. Then the tears ran dry, and all that was left was numbness.

Every image seared into my eyes was the same reminder: this is what happens when you love the wrong person.

The last shred of feeling I had left died that night.

The moaning lasted until dawn. Only then did Randolph finally untie me.

"Learned your lesson?"

He looked down at me from above.

When no answer came, he glanced down and saw my face drained white, my consciousness slipping.

Panic flickered across his features. He checked beneath me and found a pool of red soaking through.

He bent to scoop me up, ready to rush to the hospital, but Nanette's voice drifted from the bed.

"Randolph, you were too rough last night. I think I'm bleeding down there. Could you come take a look?"

"If not, you could just send one of the housekeepers. That's fine too."

Her voice was hoarse, fragile. She looked utterly pitiful.

Randolph hesitated. His resolve softened. It had been Nanette's first time, after all, and he hadn't exactly held back.

So I watched him set me down, watched him tell me to wait.

But I was in so much pain.

I forced myself upright, called a car on my own, and staggered toward the door one lurching step at a time.

"Where are you going, sis?"

Just as I reached the top of the stairs, Nanette rushed over and seized my wrist.

"I'm so sorry, sis. This is all my fault. I'm the reason you and Randolph never got to sign the marriage certificate."

She tilted her face up at me, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Hit me, yell at me, I'll take it all. Just please don't break up with him over me..."

My head swam. A low buzz filled my ears.

"Let go." My throat was so dry it burned.

Nanette only gripped tighter, stepping closer, as if terrified I'd slip away.

"Please don't leave, sis. Randolph really does love you. He's just soft-hearted. What he feels for me is only habit. Don't misunderstand him..."

Love me?

The pain in my abdomen clenched like a fist. My legs nearly gave out, and a wave of nausea surged up with the irritation.

"Enough." My voice went cold. "Nanette, who exactly are you performing for?"

I yanked my hand back.

I barely used any force.

But in that instant, her body went limp and she tipped backward.

"Ah!"

Her shriek split the stairwell open.

I froze for a fraction of a second, then reached for her on instinct.

My fingertips grazed her sleeve, but she was already falling.

Weightlessness seized me.

Nanette's grip dragged me down with her.

The world flipped.

My back, my elbows, my knees slammed against the hard edges of each step, over and over.

Thud.

I hit the ground floor hard. My vision went black.

Then I heard footsteps, fast and frantic.

"Crys!"

Randolph's voice.

He came tearing down the stairs, steps uneven, more rattled than I'd ever heard him.

Through blurred vision, I saw him reach me.

But before he could get close, a hand caught his sleeve.

"Randolph..."

Nanette's voice, thin as thread.

"I lost my footing. It wasn't her fault. She grabbed for me and got pulled down too..."

"Go check on her first. She fell harder than I did..."

Randolph's movement stuttered.

He'd been about to come to me. But that pause was all it took. His eyes landed on Nanette's disheveled state instead.

Her collar had shifted, exposing the marks he'd left on her skin the night before.

His throat bobbed.

I thought, even if Randolph had no conscience at all, he'd at least check on me first. I was pregnant. I'd just tumbled down an entire flight of stairs.

He didn't.

I watched him gather Nanette into his arms.

Careful. Gentle. Like she was something precious and breakable.

6