My husband's first love had a depressive episode and jumped off a building.

In a fit of rage, he dragged me—eight months pregnant—to an abandoned amusement park and strapped me to a drop tower ride. His men stood by, their faces blank as they bound my wrists and ankles to the cold metal seat.

"If you hadn't provoked Sienna, would she have had a breakdown and jumped?"

Terrified of heights, I clutched at the restraints, my swollen belly making it hard to breathe. Tears streamed down my face as I admitted my mistake, my voice cracking as I begged him, "Hugh, please... let me go. I promised—I swore—I'd never appear in front of Sienna again."

But my husband only looked at me with chilling indifference.

"Ava, for the sake of the child, I won't divorce you." His voice was calm, almost gentle, but it only made the next words colder.

"But the pain you've caused Sienna—I want you to pay it back a hundred... no, a thousand times over."

Hugh ordered the ride to be set to run non-stop for an hour, then turned and walked away without a backward glance.

The machinery groaned to life, the seat jerking beneath me as the tower rose higher and higher. I fought against the restraints, screaming until my throat felt raw. Every time the ride plunged, my stomach flipped, the terror so intense I thought I might lose consciousness.

Then, on one brutal drop, pain ripped through my body—sharp, hot and unstoppable. A rush of fluid gushed between my legs, soaking my dress and the seat beneath me.

The next day, Hugh finally remembered that I was still there.

"Ava, Sienna is fine now," he said, his voice devoid of concern. "As long as you apologize to her, I'll let you down."

What he didn't know—what none of them knew—was that the platform had already been drenched in blood for hours. My baby had been torn from my body somewhere between the sky and the earth, reduced to nothing but mangled flesh and silence.

——

"Doctor Jason called this morning. That woman is avoiding her prenatal checkups. What trick is she playing to get my attention this time?"

Hugh frowned, a trace of disgust flashing through his dark eyes.

Beside him, Mason, the family butler, turned pale, his voice trembling as he spoke. "Sir, Madam still hasn't been taken down. And she's terribly afraid of heights. She won't even step onto the second-floor balcony. Now that she's in her late pregnancy, could... could something have happened?"

Hugh's expression froze for a split second before he frowned again, doubt flickering across his face. "Really? Ava's afraid of heights?"

Before Mason could finish confirming, Hugh waved a dismissive hand. "It's just a drop tower. It's not like she's actually jumping off a building. Let her be scared—it might teach her a lesson so she won't bully Sienna again."

Mason lowered his head and dared not say another word.

However, Hugh's assistant couldn't hold back any longer. "Sir, at first Madam was screaming. But later, she went completely silent. And... she's carrying your child—your own flesh and blood. Shouldn't you at least check on her?"

Hugh's expression shifted slightly, but the brief flicker of realization was quickly replaced by scorn.

"I knew it. Even her so-called fear of heights was just an act. If she were really that terrified, how could she suddenly go quiet? Ava's as manipulative as ever. Since she wants to put on a show, let her stay up there until morning. Tomorrow, I'll bring her to kneel before Sienna and apologize. Only then will this matter be considered settled."

With that, he waved his hand impatiently, cutting off any further protests and strode towards the bedroom.

On his bed, Sienna lay half-naked beneath the soft sheets, her delicate shoulders exposed to the dim light. Hugh's gaze darkened as he approached, his Adam's apple bobbing with desire. Without a word, he leaned down and captured her lips in a deep kiss.

Sienna whimpered softly, her fingers pressing weakly against his chest in resistance before she opened her eyes. "Hugh... we're in your room. If Ava finds out, she'll be upset."

Her voice trembled just enough to sound pitiful, her wide eyes filled with guilt and hesitation. "And about what happened before... Hugh, I only did it because I love you too much. I thought that if I died, Ava wouldn't fight with you over me anymore. I never wanted you to punish her for my sake. Should I go and apologize to her?"

She bit her lip, looking heartbreakingly conflicted.

Sure enough, seeing her like this, Hugh's desire and anger intertwined. His large hands moved to roughly knead Sienna's soft chest, his breath growing heavier as he flipped her beneath him with ease.

"Sienna, you're too kind. If it weren't for you, I would've died back then. Even your fear of heights came from saving me. Just thinking about how Ava told someone as gentle and kind as you to jump off a building makes my heart ache."

His grip tightened possessively, his voice dropping to a cold whisper. "If she ever does it again—even if she's carrying my child—I'll make her pay with her life..."

Hugh tenderly kissed the faint scratches marring Sienna's delicate skin—marks left from her fall. His gaze, usually cold and unreadable, softened with pain as if the mere sight of her injuries broke him. On our bed, the two of them indulged in passion, their bodies entwined beneath the sheets.

Above them, the wedding portrait swayed slightly with the motion. My eyes were fixed on the photo—on the woman I used to be, the one who once gazed at Hugh with all the love in the world. In return, his face, even in that captured moment, was indifferent.

That was when I realized... even a soul could shed tears.

At least Hugh could rest easy now. There was no chance of me ever coming between them again.

Because I was already dead.

***

When Hugh first came for me, I was so terrified I tried to run. My swollen, eight-months-pregnant belly made it nearly impossible, but I still stumbled forward, desperate. He stood there watching, his arms folded, as I ran aimlessly like a cornered animal. In the end, it was useless—his bodyguards easily caught me and dragged me back.

Losing patience, Hugh forced me onto the cold seat of the drop tower ride. His hands pinned me down until the thick straps and ropes bound my limbs in place. I screamed and pleaded, my voice cracking as the ride began to lift me higher and higher into the sky.

I was still screaming when I felt a hot gush of liquid flow down my legs. My water had broken. I sobbed, gasping for breath, begging him—begging my husband—to save our child.

For a moment, just one fleeting moment, I saw hesitation flicker in his eyes. But before hope could bloom, the soft voice beside him spoke up.

Sienna leaned into his side, her face pale and pitiful. "I thought Ava's due date wasn't until next week? But... she does look scared. She even wet herself before the ride went up... Maybe we should just let it go. I'm fine now anyway."

That was all it took. In the next breath, Hugh's expression twisted with disgust.

"Ava! You're vile. Using our child just to win my sympathy? Stay up there and think about what you've done!"

***

A hundred yards above the ground, the wind howled, cutting through my thin dress like a blade. My teeth chattered uncontrollably, but the pain twisting in my abdomen was even worse.

The baby was coming.

I thrashed against the ropes, the fibers cutting into my wrists until layers of skin peeled away. Blood dripped down my arms, but I didn't stop. My fingers clawed desperately at the knots until, somehow, they began to loosen.

The third time the ride shot upward, I gathered every last ounce of strength I had left. And that's when I heard it—a fragile, kitten-like cry.

My baby was born, right there in the sky.

I was too weak to hold it, too broken to even see if it was a boy or a girl. Before I could reach out, the ride jolted violently. The tower had reached its peak again.

The next second, it plunged.

The tiny, fragile body was ripped from my arms. My baby—so small, so helpless—slammed into the unforgiving ground below.

I reached for it, screaming until my throat gave out, but my shredded hands couldn't catch hold. All I could do was watch as that perfect little life was reduced to nothing but blood and flesh on the cold concrete.

My own blood followed, painting the air crimson, a midsummer snowfall of death.

In that final, agonized scream, my breath gave out.

***

And where was Hugh?

He was nowhere near me. Instead, he'd gathered the city's best doctors—not for me, not for our child, but for Sienna. All because he didn't want a shallow scratch on her arm to leave a scar.

He brought her fresh roses, carefully selected from a florist who imported them from halfway across the world. He even secured a one-of-a-kind designer necklace, placing it gently in her hands to comfort her fragile nerves.

When someone tried to report what had happened to me, Hugh cut them off without hesitation.

"Even if she's dead, she brought it upon herself," he said, without a trace of emotion.

***

"In two days, it'll be her due date. I'll bring Ava over to apologize to you," Hugh said, his fingers lazily stroking Sienna's hair as she curled up in his lap.

Sienna traced light circles on his chest with her delicate fingers, her head resting softly against him.

"Maybe we should just forget it," she whispered, her voice soft and filled with guilt. "I believe Ava didn't mean to do it. In the end, it's my fault—I shouldn't have come back. But... I just wanted to be by your side. I never wanted to cause trouble between you two."

Hugh caught her wandering hand, his voice unbearably tender.

"Sienna, you've saved my life. Just for that, I'll protect you until the day I die."

He gently brushed her hair back, his gaze darkening with affection. "Ava's my wife. She should have embraced you with me. But instead, she kept targeting you, forcing you to the edge."

His jaw clenched slightly, a flicker of rage seeping through his soft words. "I don't even want to imagine... if the firefighters hadn't saved you in time, I could've lost you forever. I would never have forgiven myself."

Hearing Hugh's words, a flicker of unease crossed Sienna's delicate face. She shrank her neck slightly, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she fell silent.

Bitterness welled up inside me, familiar and almost comforting by now. Half a year ago, Sienna had suddenly returned after living abroad for years. Hugh told me she was all alone, with nowhere to go. Without even discussing it with me, he brought her into our home, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

At first, I didn't mind. I even felt sorry for the fragile girl and took care of her in every way I could—preparing her meals, making sure she had warm clothes, trying to make her feel welcome. I wanted to be kind. I wanted to be a good wife.

Until the night everything changed. Sienna picked up a glass of red wine, poured it over herself, then collapsed onto her knees in front of me, trembling and pleading for mercy. Her voice was so soft, so pitiful, that anyone passing by would've thought I had been tormenting her for days.

From that moment on, the way Hugh looked at me shifted. That night, he didn't even give me a chance to explain. His fury exploded like a storm and before I knew it, I was dragged to the attic and locked inside. He left me there, hungry and freezing, for three full days. When he finally came back, his voice was colder than I'd ever heard.

"Ava, you've really disappointed me," he said, his gaze filled with disgust. "You have no idea what Sienna means to me. If you dare lay a hand on her again, even if you're my wife, I'll make you pay."

After that, incidents like that kept happening—small, carefully staged moments where Sienna was the victim and I was the cruel villain. Each one chipped away at Hugh's patience, until his eyes held nothing but icy contempt whenever he looked at me.

I had planned to endure it, at least until the baby was born. Once our child arrived safely, I was going to ask for a divorce and leave quietly. But before I could, Sienna jumped off a building.

The reason for her suicide attempt? Hateful messages and vicious voice recordings—supposedly from me.

The words were brutal, cruel enough to drive anyone to the edge. But they weren't mine. Yet no matter how I pleaded, Hugh didn't believe me. All he could see was Sienna's pale, trembling form lying in a hospital bed, her tears falling one after another. His heart ached so much for her, his eyes turned red with rage.

Even with our baby almost ready to be born, his only concern was avenging his beloved.

***

"Sir... Madam, she... she seems... You should go see for yourself."

Hugh's fingers froze around the pen in his hand. His brow furrowed, his expression a mix of irritation and indifference. "She's still throwing a tantrum after all this time?"

The assistant hesitated, his hands nervously clasped together. After several seconds of hesitation, he finally said, "No, sir... It's not that. It's just... Madam seems to have stopped breathing."

Hugh's large hands, the ones that had been tenderly holding Sienna just moments ago, stiffened. For a moment, there was silence—too long to be casual, too short to mean anything real. Then, a cold, careless laugh escaped his throat.

"She's really going that far to get out of apologizing? Pretending to be dead, just to avoid facing Sienna?"

His voice sharpened. "Tell her—even if she's dying, she has to apologize! If she refuses, don't say I didn't warn her."

The assistant's forehead glistened with sweat. He wanted to say something, but the fury on Hugh's face kept him silent. In the end, all he could do was quietly back away.

In Hugh's arms, Sienna tilted her head, her innocent eyes wide with concern.

"Hugh, maybe you should let it go," she whispered. "Even if Ava doesn't like me and makes things difficult, she's still your wife. As long as I can stay by your side, I can endure it."

Hugh's arm tightened around her slender waist, pulling her closer.

"Sienna, you don't need to be afraid of that petty woman. Ava's not even worth your concern." His voice softened into something almost gentle. "This time, I'll make sure she learns her lesson. Only then will she understand her place."

"But..."

"No buts. Just trust me."

A teardrop landed on the back of my hand, cold and weightless, yet cutting deeper than any blade. That was when I realized—I was already crying.

So even souls can feel pain.

***

Hugh said nothing more after that, but for the rest of the afternoon, his mind was elsewhere. His fingers drummed restlessly on the desk and every few minutes, his eyes flicked toward the door. By the time an hour passed, he had glanced over more than ten times.

Finally, with a frustrated sigh, he slammed his laptop shut. Running a hand through his hair, he forced a gentle smile onto his face and stroked Sienna's hair.

"I don't know what kind of trick Ava's trying to pull this time," he said softly, "but I'll go drag her back to apologize right now."

***

At the entrance of the amusement park, Hugh's long strides carried him forward, his impatience radiating off him like heat. Even from a distance, his sharp gaze locked onto the drop tower ride.

Its frame gleamed coldly in the sunlight—but the ground beneath it was soaked in red.