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.

The stench of blood hung heavy in the air, mixing with the faint scent of rust and damp earth. Hugh instinctively raised a hand to cover his nose, his expression twisted in discomfort.

"What the hell is that smell? What's Ava up to this time?!" His voice was impatient, as if all of this was nothing more than another one of my childish pranks.

His assistant stood to the side, forehead beaded with sweat. His hands clenched nervously, but his voice remained low. "Sir... perhaps you should see for yourself."

With a stiff motion, the assistant stepped aside, revealing the two shapes lying side by side on the bloodstained ground. Both were covered with white cloth—one larger, one heartbreakingly small.

Hugh's large hands hovered uncertainly between the two. His fingers curled and uncurled, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. His brows furrowed, confusion flickering in his usually cold eyes.

I clutched my chest, though there was no heartbeat there anymore, only the hollow ache of something long gone. I knew what was about to happen and the knowledge was suffocating. Still, I couldn't look away.

After what felt like an eternity, Hugh finally reached out toward the smaller bundle. His fingers trembled slightly as he pinched the edge of the cloth, slowly lifting it—

A sharp, high-pitched scream cut through the air before he could see anything.

"Hugh! What are you doing?! You're not actually going to touch that, are you? That's a stray cat's corpse!"

Sienna's shrill voice rang out as she stumbled toward him, her body trembling as she threw herself into his arms. Her face pressed into his chest, her small hands clutching at his shirt.

Hugh's body stiffened under her touch, but her words seemed to flip a switch in his mind. His expression darkened, disgust flashing across his face. Without another thought, his leg shot out, kicking the small bundle aside.

The tiny body rolled limply across the pavement, the once-pure white cloth unraveling just slightly, exposing a flash of soft, fragile skin.

"Get some dogs in here," Hugh barked, his voice cold and sharp. "Let them deal with it."

The order was carried out instantly. Stray dogs, drawn in by the scent of blood and flesh, swarmed the area within seconds. Their teeth tore into the small corpse without hesitation, their low growls blending with the wet, sickening sounds of ripping flesh.

I screamed, the sound tearing out of me like a wounded animal. I lunged forward, trying to claw at Hugh, trying to push the dogs away, trying to hold what was left of my baby. But my hands passed straight through everything.

I couldn't touch anything. I couldn't stop any of it.

But the pain—oh, the pain was real. It burned and twisted inside me, a thousand times worse than the agony of childbirth.

What had I done wrong? What had my child done wrong?

The dogs didn't stop until there was nothing left but scraps of cloth and dark, wet patches on the ground. As the last of the flesh disappeared, I caught a glimpse of Sienna, standing slightly apart from Hugh. A faint smile curled at the corners of her lips, a sinister gleam flashing in her eyes before she quickly lowered her gaze.

"Enough with these games!" Hugh's furious roar broke the silence. "Where's Ava?! Where the hell is she hiding?!" His fists clenched at his sides, veins bulging under his skin. "She drove Sienna to jump off a building and now she's trying to scare her with some dead cat? How did I never see how vicious Ava really is?!"

He turned, voice dripping with contempt. "Ava! Didn't you love that baby more than anything? If you don't crawl out right now, I swear—once the real baby is born, I'll divorce you on the spot. And don't even dream about getting custody. You'll never see that child again!"

I collapsed onto the ground, trembling with rage and heartbreak, my silent laughter mixing with tears I could no longer wipe away.

My parents were gone. Hugh, the man I had once trusted with my whole heart, had betrayed me without hesitation for Sienna. The only thing I had left was my baby. And now, my child—our child—had been torn apart by dogs, thrown away like trash and the man who fathered that child had stood by and watched.

Not even a body remained.

I swore, from the depths of whatever was left of my soul, that Hugh would rot in hell for this.

His voice rose again, loud and furious, demanding that I show myself. But there was no one left to answer him.

Finally, the assistant, pale and trembling, forced himself to step forward. His hands shook as he reached down, slowly lifting the white cloth covering the larger form. His voice wavered.

"Sir... Madam is right here. And your child... you just fed it to the stray dogs."