Liora's POV

"Tell me, where is Julian?!"

I shook Matteo's body, who stood stiff like a statue. Fifteen minutes I had been repeating the same question, but he remained silent.

"I don't know. He vanished."

That sentence sounded light for uttering something so devastating.

"Didn't you say you wanted to stroll with him?! And now you show up by yourself and say he disappeared?!"

I lost my voice. A raging scream cramped my chest. My head throbbed so hard, and my fists fisted in my own hair.

Matteo simply shook his head slowly. That small motion was like a lash tearing the last thread of my hope apart.

Suddenly, my phone rang.

My eyes widened as Julian's name flashed on the screen.

I grabbed it and clutched it with shaking hands quickly.

"Mom… help me!"

That small voice cried in terror.

I grasped the phone tightly. My lips quivered badly.

"Where are you, honey?"

"In the woods, Mom. T-there's a bear. It's pursuing me. I think it's starving, I'm frightened…"

His breathing was heavy, I heard rushed footsteps and snapped twigs on the ground. His crying made my whole body shudder.

It was like my blood had frozen.

"Forest? But…didn't your dad tell you you were going to the zoo?"

My voice rose, a mix of fear, panic, and suffocating rage.

“No! My dad had said he wanted to go deer hunting with me. But then I lost him. He disappeared from sight. I attempted to call him, but his phone was off. So I called you."

My eyes instinctively locked onto Matteo. Our eyes clashed for a second but his lips remained shut.

"Listen, baby. I'm coming. I promise."

My voice shivered, holding back tears.

"Meanwhile, get someplace safe to hide. Stand your ground. Don't draw attention. I'm going to take care of you now. And don't—"

The phone call was cut off abruptly.

"Julian? Julian?!"

I was panicked. I panted in short gasps of air. Without delay, I grabbed Matteo's wrist and yanked it firmly.

"We have to go. Now."

I didn't mind the battle we hadn't finished. I only knew that my son was alone in the woods and being hunted by death.

"No." His answer fell like that, blunt. His body not moving. "I won't go get him."

I spun around, staring at him in shock.

"What do you mean?!”

“Just imagine it's a lesson for Julian, he's the one that got Nora into a coma," Matteo spoke indifferently.

And in that instant, my world absolutely fell apart.

Nora. A little girl of five, daughter of my best friend, Clara Banned.

That day, Clara arrived as always, bringing Nora to play with Julian at my place.

Julian went outside to pee for a minute, and in an instant, Nora ran to the edge of the pool and fell.

That little body was not able to swim. Nobody saw. And she never opened her eyes again from that day on.

I emerged out of the mournful flashback.

"It was an accident, Matteo!" my voice nearly cracked.

"Julian is only a child! He doesn't know anything! You're blaming your own son? It should have been Clara who was looking after her daughter, not Julian!"

Matteo didn't say anything. He just turned and left, as if everything I'd said was not worth hearing. As if he preferred having Clara guarded better.

But I did. I saw the CCTV recording of the day. While I was busy cooking in the kitchen, Matteo took Clara into his bedroom.

Then afterwards a couple of minutes later when the maid broke the news about Nora, Clara came out from the room with a frantic face.

She had a few of her shirt buttons undone, her hair in disarray, and she held on to her dying daughter.

I tried to follow after Matteo.

Instinctively, I fell to my knees and wrapped his legs around me from behind. I wept.

"Matteo… please… one second can save everything. Our child is out there. Frightened, alone, and at risk."

Matteo kicked his leg wildly, trying to push me away. But I held on, begging with one hand, though the other hand was being trampled and hurt just as much.

“Listen to me, Julian is only eight years old. He’s just a child. I’m afraid that bear will really eat him. Please help me.”

Matteo stared at me sharply. His jaw clenched.

“If he wants to survive, let him learn.”

His voice sounded like a knife. “Think of it as punishment.”

“You’re insane?! He’s your son, Matteo! Not your enemy!”

I screamed, desperate, my face drenched in tears.

Matteo ignored me, slapping his foot down again, causing my grip to falter.

My body landed on the hard ground.

My voice echoed off walls that provided no response—just as his heart provided none.

I felt as if I was begging a callous stranger.

My eyes followed his back as it slowly walked away. Leaving me with welts too sensitive to speak.

He was the one who loved me. Who chased me over and over, begging me to accept his love.

He came at me as a cold, ruthless mafia, but to me, he remained always warm and kind.

That dark part reared its head again—something I was sure of.

Clara. My best friend.

The woman who one night stood on my threshold in the rain, crying and shivering, knocking on my door with a bruised face.

She had her child tucked around her, holding a small teddy bear, his eyes glued wide with fear.

"Liora, rescue me! My husband will kill me! He is crazy!"

Her clothes in tatters. Her body soiled, and she hadn't even bothered to wear shoes.

I accepted her. An apartment. The warmth of a family, and safeguard.

And what I got in return was the exact opposite.

Slowly, she gained my husband's attention.

She filled the position which was mine.

Now, I am a nobody in my own husband's eyes.

I got up, roughly rubbing my face.

Not wasting time, I called the rescue team.

The helicopter rattled with the wind while we hovered low over the woods. My eyes crazily swept below.

And then I saw Julian. That tiny body was being dragged by a bear.

His legs were smeared with blood, his clothes torn, his face with claw marks.

He was already thin and weak, as if surrendering to his fate.

"There! Administer the shot now!"

Two tranquilizer shots were administered.

The bear screamed, stumbled, then collapsed.

The helicopter came down quickly. I ran through the shrubs.

"Julian!"

I folded his shivering and cold body into my arms. My palms were dirty with blood. His breathing was faint, and his half-open eyes stared at me.

"Mom… You came."

"I'm sorry, baby! I was a bit delayed to save you. Hold on tight."

I cried against his chest.

His hand tried to touch my face, and then fell powerless.

My heart was broken.

Enough! I don't want to go back to Matteo anymore.

****

Julian was still being treated inside, while I sat waiting outside the ICU. My hand trembled as I opened my contacts and pressed my mother’s number.

Over the past month, I had secretly reconnected with her. Her assistant had managed to find me. I was the lost daughter, stolen from my family before I ever knew who I was.

Matteo never knew. All he knew was that I was just a pitiful orphan.

When we met again, my mother asked me to live with her and help manage the family business. But at that time, I refused. Instead, I begged her to secretly help Matteo by investing in his company under another name, in order to save his business, which was on the verge of bankruptcy.

I was still foolish back then… still hoping he would change.

The call connected.

“Mom, can you withdraw your investment from my husband’s company? You remember, right, when I asked you to go in under another name? This time, I’ll accept your offer to live with you and help manage our company.”

She didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry. She simply answered softly,

“I’ll do whatever you ask, Sweetheart. Leave it to me. In seven days, you and Julian will be living with me.”

I slowly ended the call and looked toward the ICU. In seven days, I would take my son out of this hell.

Julian was still in the intensive care unit. He was critical.

I sat by his side for five days, holding his cold hand, praying silently for him to come back to me.

I even tried calling Matteo. Made more than 50 calls, sent dozens of messages, in the hope that he'd come—just to see some glimmer of concern in his eyes.

But none of them was answered.

No sign that he loved his own son.

What stung me even more painfully was on Clara's social media.

There, Matteo was smiling brightly, with Clara, celebrating Nora's coming home from the hospital. Their photos were a picture-perfect family. Full of hugs. Full of laughter.

And while I was still sitting in this chair, by myself, waiting for my son to come back to life from death.

I called the lawyer that my mother had directed to handle my divorce.

"Hello? Any updates on the papers?" I inquired.

"Certainly. I brought the documents to your place two days ago. Haven't you opened them?"

My heart missed a beat for a moment.

What? Two days ago?" I yelled. "I'm still at the hospital! I haven't got anything…. "

On the other end, I heard a moment of silence, then my lawyer's voice turned unsure.

"The courier said the documents were signed for by someone at your residence. I assumed it was you."

My head reeled.

"No. I don't want Matteo to hear about it yet. Not now!"

I stood up from the chair immediately.

"I'll go check myself. Thank you, Mr. Ben."

I reluctantly departed, Julian still unconscious. I had no choice—I have to get the documents before Matteo finds them.

I hastily entered the house, hoping it was quiet.

But my steps stopped at the entrance of the living room.

Matteo rigidly sat on the large sofa, his eyes piercing—like a lion stalking its prey.

Beside him, Clara sat victoriously and elegantly, playing with her hair. A mischievous smile smiled on her face.

Matteo took the papers off the counter.

"You came for this, didn't you?"

I nodded, lowering my head quietly, and walked towards him.

"So… you really filed for divorce from me?"

He stood up gradually, taking inch by inch. His gaze cut through me with no mercy.

"You think... an orphan girl like you can live without me?”

I inhaled deeply, my best effort at looking away and not meeting his eyes.

Clara also giggled. She rose from her chair and accompanied Matteo.

"Matteo, calm down…" she whispered softly, gently touching Matteo's chest, her hand gently stroking him as if soothing an angry king.

Clara also gazed at me with a smile.

Maybe Liora just was no longer able to tolerate this marriage anymore. Maybe. she wants to be happy with her lover. You see, sometimes women just need a man to satisfy them."

I clenched my fists. My breathing was strained.

"What are you saying?! Talk sense, Clara! I never—

But I was short-changed when Matteo pulled a large brown envelope off the table. His hand went in, and then he slammed sheets of photographs against my face. The photos scattered all over the marble floor.

"Is that your lover?" Matteo asked coldly.

I stood frozen, staring at the scattered photos. Shameful poses I never even fantasized about in bed with another man. Taken inside a room I had never even set foot in.

“N-No… that's not me. This… this is retouched!" my voice broke.

But Matteo looked at me as if he was looking at trash.

"I figured you were just an orphan girl from the shelter—seems like you're a cheap-class prostitute."

His words cut deeper than a slap.

The air around me like iced up.

"Enough, darling. Trash has to be thrown away…" Clara advised Matteo.

I clenched my fists.

Matteo gazed at me from head to foot, cynical and repulsed. Then his hand moved toward the divorce papers on the table, waving them about as if they were mere pieces of paper.

"You want this, Liora?" he asked forcefully.

"You want me to sign it? And be rid of me, right?"

I remained quiet. Suppressing the rage and sorrow that began to pierce deep within my chest.

Matteo glanced over at Clara briefly, who simply crossed her arms and snarled wickedly over his shoulder.

"Kiss my shoe. Do it. And I'll sign it."

"What? No! I won't." I stared at him, aghast.

Clara edged forward, close to me, and whispered in my ear.

“Come on, Liora… just do it. Come on, you're used to being under other people's thumbs, are you?"

I slowly turned to her, my jaw working. But Matteo just laughed.

"If you don't feel like it, that's all right. I'll keep the papers. We can play house some more until I get bored."

I was silent. There was no way around it but doing it, no matter my pride had to be walked on in front of them.

I took a deep breath and slowly rested my head.

Slowly, my knees touched the cold marble floor. My face pressed against the man's black, shiny shoes who once promised to protect me.

I kissed the shoe, and they smiled, happy they had torn apart what little pride I had left.

I looked up at Matteo on the floor, and then he threw the papers onto the floor, right in front of my face.

"I have signed it. You are no longer my wife."

Then Matteo and Nora walked off.

****

I headed towards the dining room before heading back out to the hospital. My stomach was hurting. I had not eaten since breakfast.

I saw there Clara's young daughter Nora eating with her nanny. She sat innocently in her chair, holding a spoon with her little hand.

I walked quietly, with no other agenda but to get food for myself. But when I got there and grabbed a plate of rice, Nora looked at me. Her little eyes were sharp, unfriendly.

"Auntie… you're here?" she asked naively.

"Mom told you that you don't deserve to live in our house because your son almost killed me in the pool."

I became quiet. What she said hurt more than words. Clara had succeeded in brainwashing an innocent boy.

"Nora, you slipped into the pool alone that time. Julian didn't do anything wrong," I said quietly.

Nora remained quiet, an expression of displeasure flashed when I spoke to her in such a way. She suddenly dropped her plate on the floor.

The food went all over the place. She began to cry loudly. Her tears were like an alarm calling for disaster.

Clara and Matteo arrived soon after.

Clara immediately hugged Nora with a concerned expression on her face.

“Baby, why are you crying?"

"Mom… Auntie threw my food away. She said she hates you, and she wants to take it out on me…" Nora sobbed.

I shook my head weakly.

"No. I didn't do that."

Clara glared at me, the tears patently fake.

"You've crossed the line, Liora. If you hate me, fine. But leave a child out of your hate."

Matteo went straight away. He rushed over to me, his hand closing around my arm firmly, holding it so hard I staggered.

"You're hungry, aren't you? You want to eat, Liora?"

He marched over to the table, served food onto my plate liberally, then put the plate down on the floor.

"Eat. That's where you belong."

I stood rigid. But my body was weak, hungry. I could not protest. I sat down slowly on the ground.

My hands trembled as I began spooning rice into my mouth.

A whip lashed across my back. I screamed.

"Get on with it. If you take too long to spoon rice into your mouth, I will whip you.".

I tried to gobble down quickly, but the pain was cutting into my back. Every movement was swallowing shards of glass.

I did eat. But my body doubled up with it. My head smacked onto the ground. My vision began to blur.

Was I going to die there?

Before I could go back and fight my son again?

I woke up with my body compressed. Pain crept into my back, a burn wound that had just been reopened. When I opened my eyes, I saw an old maid massaging ointment over my back the traditional way, looking sympathetic.

"You're finally awake, Ma'am," she whispered.

"How long was I out?" I spoke weakly, choking almost.

"About two days," she whispered.

I stood there rigid. Two days? My thoughts immediately flew to Julian.

Without thinking, I got up with trembling legs.

"Ma'am, please… you need to rest first," the maid attempted to restrain me.

But I did not hear her. I put on whatever I had available and rushed off.

When I arrived at the hospital, I rushed straight to the room Julian was in. But the bed was empty, the sheets already neatly folded.

I ran frantically to the nearest nurse.

"Where is my son?! Julian? He was in this room before." I was shaking.

The nurse's eyes widened, then she inclined her head slowly.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. Your child wasn't rescued. And he's not here anymore… He was taken away by a woman."

My heart nearly dropped with tears streaming from my eyes.

"No! Tell me that's not true!

I trembled the nurse's body. My legs were weak, not strong enough to hold me up. I shouted, sobbing, not able to keep inside the scorching pain, the remorse creeping within. At the moment my child had died, I was not with him.

The nurse touched my back very softly, trying to calm me.

"Who took my child away from me?" I screamed in a quivering voice.

The nurse swallowed, and went on to say very softly.

"She is Clara."

I got up immediately and grabbed the phone, not to delay.

"Where is my child's body?!" I blurted out without hesitation.

Clara's laughter echoed from the other end. Chilly and ruthless.

"Ah… so you just remembered that you have a kid," she snarled. "Don't worry. I'll inform you, but first, you have to come to my birthday party."

"I'm not joking, Clara! Stop playing around!”

"Neither do I. If you want to see your child's body, then come."

She hesitated before resuming in a jeering tone,

"And don't forget to wear a decent dress. Although I know that you don't have one. But at least… don't make a fool of yourself."

The phone cut off abruptly. I closed my eyes, struggling to gather my strength.

****

My steps entered the party hall, greeted by extravagant lights and soft classical music.

In the middle of the room, Clara was poised on the center stage in a stunning red gown. Matteo beside her, holding Nora with an innocent face, as a complete family. But to me, it was totally disgusting.

I edged slowly, making my way through the guests who were unaware of the hell I was enduring tonight.

Clara saw me. With a wide smile, she leapt off the stage and approached me in lovely steps, abandoning Matteo and Nora behind.

"I am here. So answer me, where is my child?" I barked.

Clara reached for a glass of champagne from a tray of a waiter and sipped it leisurely, as if she was watching a performance.

"Don't you wish me a happy birthday, Liora?" she said with sweetness, mockingly smiling on her lips.

I glared at her with an icy gaze.

"Happy birthday, Clara. I wish this was your last. and God takes you soon."

She burst out laughing, shattering my eardrums.

Then she clapped her hands three times. Two black-suited men emerged from behind a door, each holding a huge coffin. The party fell silent instantly. Everyone stared at them.

The coffin was placed right in front of me. My breath caught.

Clara turned to the guests who had begun whispering, then looked at me with triumphal eyes.

"And for my birthday gift this year, I'd like Liora to open it herself. It's her thing, after all." Clara's voice boomed out, commanding everyone's attention.

"Come on, Liora. Open it!" she said again, laughing nastily.

My hands trembled as they laid on the lid of the coffin. Then I hardened myself and opened it. My legs weakened.

Julian's corpse lay inside. His face was white and peaceful, as though he were sleeping. He wore a blue navy-colored shirt, one that was slightly too small. It was his favorite attire—Matteo gave it to him on his last birthday.

By then, my tears flowed unceasingly.

Clara relished my suffering. She whispered right behind me.

“Julian came to celebrate my birthday. Sad, isn’t it, Liora? He’s more useful dead than alive.”

I collapsed to my knees in front of the coffin, hugging its wooden edge with a trembling body. The guests stared at me, some holding their breath, others shuddering in horror.

I looked at Julian, my breath ragged, my lips quivering.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry…”

But Julian would never open his eyes ever again. He would never call me or hug me tight. All that had been taken away from me.

Including my dignity. Including my life.

And in the middle of that huge and boisterous birthday party, I shattered into pieces.

Clara hit her palms again. The guards advanced, beginning to close the coffin over Julian's corpse. I screamed and tried to stop them, but my body was too feeble. I hit the floor, hanging onto the rim of the coffin for all my might.

"Give me my child back! Don't take him away from me again!" I screamed, voice raw and emulsive.

Clara drew closer, then dropped to her knees before me. She gripped my hair roughly and forced me to look at her smug face.

"Calm down. I'll give you the body of your kid. But first. you have to keep my ex-husband entertained."

I shook my head weakly, my body trembling.

Clara smiled. "You see, I owe him big time. And because of that, he needs a woman to fulfill him. And I think. you're the one."

Guards began to drag me. I struggled, but to no use.

An enormous explosion on the central stage suddenly occurred. The shattering of glass, the blast, the cries of visitors filled the building.

Shooting was heard. Guards rushed away, visitors ran around frantically seeking an exit. Everything descended into pandemonium.

My body was stampeded by the crowd at once. Somebody kicked my shoulder. I bumped my head against the hard earth. Blood started flowing out of my temple.

Clara also fell nearby. Her dress was torn, her body covered with dust and wine stains.

"Help! Help me!" I shouted, expecting someone to save me.

And at this moment, Matteo arrived. I looked at him, my face full of hope.

"Matteo… help me…" I coughed, blood gushing out of my mouth.

But he just looked towards Clara. "I have to help Clara. She's pregnant with my child."

I stared at him in dismay. I should not have expected anything from Matteo, more so having just found out that he was the one who had gotten Clara pregnant.

Without looking back at me, Matteo lifted Clara's lifeless body and left, leaving me amidst the commotion.

I tried to crawl with vision fading. Then, indistinctly, a presence came close.

A person knelt beside me. His hands slowly lifted my body.

"Please… don't hurt me… let me go… " I whispered barely.

The man’s voice was calm and deep.

“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you. Your mother sent me to get you.”

I closed my eyes, taking a slow breath. The pain and blood in my mouth tasted bitter—but not as bitter as the rage burning in my chest.

“Wait for my revenge. I’ll make sure they bleed tears of blood when their moment of ruin comes, just as they destroyed my life and my child’s.”

He carried me toward the private jet, its engines roaring in the distance, taking me away—along with the last remnants of the woman I once was.