Sable turned to Vincent with wide, innocent eyes. “Vincent, I really like this one.”

Before Vincent could respond, I cut in firmly, “That’s mine.”

My tone was sharp and Vincent’s face darkened.

“It’s just a stupid bracelet. She’s giving you some face by even liking it. Stop making a scene,” he snapped.

I was fuming. “That bracelet was my mother’s!”

I was an illegitimate child, raised secretly in the countryside with my younger brother. My foster mother was poor. That bracelet was a gift she saved up for months to buy me for my coming-of-age.

Vincent knew that.

His brows furrowed; he hesitated as he glanced at Sable.

Sable, ever the manipulator, quickly played innocent. “I’m so sorry, Andrea. I didn’t realize it was that important to you. Here, I’ll give it back.”

She reached out, but as she did, her fingers conveniently slipped.

The bracelet fell to the floor and shattered into pieces.

My outstretched hand froze mid-air, as I watched the last thing my mother ever gave me break beyond repair.

The tears came before I could stop them, but I swallowed my sobs and slapped her across the face.

Sable stumbled back in shock, hitting her head on the dresser, a bruise immediately forming on her forehead.

Vincent exploded. He slapped me so hard I fell to the ground, my ears ringing. My hand landed in the broken shards, instantly drawing blood.

Sable burst into tears, wailing, “Vincent, my face! Am I going to be disfigured?”

Her face—so much like my sister’s—only fueled his fury.

Vincent scooped her up protectively. “It’s okay, Sweetheart. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

He stormed out so fast that he knocked over the decor by the cabinet. A plaster statue crashed down, landing squarely on my head, blood gushing down my face.

But he didn’t even glance back.

I was used to this. Calmly, I pulled out my phone and called for an ambulance.

When I woke up, Vincent was sitting by my hospital bed, face like stone.

Usually, he would be screaming at me by now.

Instead, he glanced at me coldly and said, “Tomorrow, we’re going to Emerald Island. You used to train for mermaid shows, didn’t you? Sable’s willing to forgive you if you perform for her. Consider it your apology.” 

I had learned mermaid performances because Vincent loved watching underwater shows. I wanted to be closer to him.

I had even secretly rented an entire aquarium for his birthday, just to surprise him.

But the moment he saw me in that tank, the revulsion in his eyes was searing.

He ordered the guards to rip off my oxygen mask, leaving me trapped underwater for nearly an hour.

I blacked out from oxygen deprivation before he finally let me out.

Since then, I’ve been terrified of water.

“I’m not going,” I said instinctively.

He didn’t even bother to argue.

The next morning, he had me forcibly dragged onto a helicopter.

As the rotors lifted us into the sky, my stomach twisted into knots.

The sea surrounding Emerald Island sparkled under the sun, stretching endlessly into the horizon. To anyone else, it was paradise.

But as I stared at the waves gently rising and falling, all I felt was a suffocating dread tightening around my chest.

The moment we landed, I broke into a run, sprinting toward the far edge of the island.

Strangely, he didn’t come after me.

A surge of unease crawled up my spine.

Suddenly, the clear blue sky darkened.

The bright sunshine vanished as thick storm clouds rolled in.

The wind howled and I knew a storm was coming fast.

Panicked, I called him.

“Where are you? Where am I supposed to stay tonight?”

He chuckled coldly on the other end.

“After everything you’ve done, you still expect me to give you shelter? You really do live in a fantasy world.”

My anxiety spiked. “What do you mean?”

The wind picked up sharply, but his voice was even colder. “We’re taking the chopper back. The signal here will be cut soon. If you want to survive, figure it out yourself.”

The line went dead, his words slicing through me like knives.

Clutching my jacket tighter around me, I heard the first rumble of thunder in the distance.

And then it started.

Large raindrops pelted down, the horizon disappearing as the sea grew wild and angry.

My eyes widened in terror.

I turned and ran in the opposite direction.

Thunder cracked, wind roared, waves swelled like monsters and crashed down on me.

The churning sea swallowed me whole.

My screams were drowned out by the violent water.

Lightning slashed through the sky, illuminating everything for a brief, terrifying moment.

As my consciousness slipped away, I saw them—

In that flicker of light, my adoptive parents smiled at me gently.

“Sweetheart, your birth father has been looking for you. Do you want to go home with him?”

No. 

If this was the price of being a Leighton, I’d rather stay in that quiet little mountain village forever.

I didn’t want blood ties.

I didn’t want to know Vincent.

The sharp smell of disinfectant pulled me back to consciousness.

I opened my eyes to a stark white ceiling, machines beeping steadily beside me.

Sable’s voice was the first thing I heard. “You’ve got some nerve. Can’t believe those fishermen actually managed to pull you out alive.”

Turning my head, I saw her standing by the bed, her usual sweet act long gone. Instead, she reached out and gripped my throat, squeezing hard.

“Why won’t you just die, Andrea?! If you were dead, I could finally be Mrs. Blackthorne.”

“Can’t you see it? Vincent doesn’t love you. You’re like a stray dog clinging to a marriage you stole. Pathetic.”

“It only took one word from me for him to abandon you on that island, knowing you’re terrified of water. Do you still not get who he truly cares about?”

Her grip tightened. She wasn’t bluffing—she fully intended to choke me to death.

I couldn’t breathe. My instincts kicked in and I struggled to fight her off.

The next moment, she suddenly let go, her body stumbling backward. She knocked into a medical tray, sending instruments clattering. A sharp pair of scissors sliced across her hand, leaving a bloody gash.

Sable let out a high-pitched scream. “Andrea, why did you push me?!”

Before I could even react, Vincent walked in.

Tears welled up in Sable’s eyes immediately. “Vincent… I was just checking on Andrea and she—”

She didn’t even need to finish. The implication hung in the air like poison.

Vincent didn’t even bother asking for my side of the story. His mouth opened, ready to lash into me.

But when he noticed how pale I looked, for once, he held his tongue. Instead, he scooped up the bleeding Sable and rushed her out of the room.

Ten minutes later, he stormed back in, face like thunder. Without a word, he yanked me off the bed.

I stumbled. “Let go! What do you want?!”

“Sable’s condition worsened because of you. She’s bleeding heavily. You share a blood type. You’re giving her a transfusion.” His voice was low, cold.

I froze. I had never once heard of any chronic illness she had. And after barely surviving that nightmare on Emerald Island, my body could hardly handle anything more.

I struggled desperately. “I’m not doing it! Let me go!”

Vincent gripped my wrist even tighter. “You don’t get a say.”

He shoved me toward the doctors.

One of them hesitated. “But she is severely weak after everything she’s been through. Forcing a transfusion now could cause irreversible harm.”

Vincent’s face was ice. “Sable’s life comes first. Do it.”

The needle pierced my skin. My blood drained quickly, leaving my entire body aching, especially my lower abdomen.

Something warm trickled beneath me. Sticky. Hot.

It wasn’t my period.

A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. I clutched my stomach as pain overtook me and then everything went black.

When I woke up again, the doctor was sitting beside me with a solemn expression.

“Miss Leighton… I’m sorry. After the trauma your body’s been through… you lost the baby.”

I froze. “The baby?”

He nodded. “You were only about a month along. With your anemia and the great number blood loss… it couldn’t survive.”

I placed my hand over my stomach, unable to say a word.

The tiny life I hadn’t even known was there—gone.

Maybe this was fate.

Outside, loud booms suddenly filled the air, followed by a chain of explosive bursts.

Fireworks. Giant ones, painting the daytime sky with brilliant color, dazzling even in broad daylight.

A group of young nurses crowded by the window, chatting excitedly.

“Did you hear? The CEO of Blackthorne threw this fireworks show to celebrate his wife’s pregnancy. So romantic.”

“Ugh, if I had a husband like that, I could die happy.”

“He’s planning a huge party next week too, I heard. Whoever that Mrs. Blackthorne is so lucky!”

If I weren’t Mrs. Blackthorne myself, I probably would’ve swooned over such a grand romantic gesture too.

But unfortunately, I am her.

My mind drifted back to a year ago.

That night, Vincent came home drunk. He pinned me under him without protection. The next morning, he shoved a handful of pills into my hand.

“You have no right to carry my child. Even if you ever got pregnant by accident, I’d make sure it never sees the light of day.”

And now his wish had come true.

He forced me to donate blood to his mistress and because of that, I lost my child.

Yet he lit up the whole city with fireworks to celebrate hers.

I wept silently. After the IV was finished, I signed my discharge papers and went home.

Passing through the backyard, I found myself standing beneath the wisteria tree. Its blooms were in full glory. Without realizing it, I sat beneath it for hours.

By evening, Vincent returned with Sable in tow.

Spotting me under the tree, he paused.

Sable’s eyes glimmered as she said sweetly, “Vincent, this wisteria is thriving. Should we cut it down and make a good-luck charm for our baby? But… I heard Andrea planted this tree herself.”

She paused, then looked at me with fake sweetness. “Would you mind, Andrea?”

This tree was one of the few beautiful memories Vincent and I shared.

My adoptive father had planted it for my adoptive mother—it was their symbol of lifelong love.

Four years ago, I transplanted it here from my hometown, digging the hole with my own hands.

Vincent once told me it wouldn’t survive. I seized that moment to bargain with him.

“If I keep it alive and it blooms… would you consider loving me?”

He went quiet for a long time, then said, “I’ll think about it.”

It was the only sliver of hope he’d ever given me.

Since then, I’d cared for that tree more than anything else.

Once, his eighteenth mistress broke a single flower off it and I fought her like my life depended on it.

Anyone who dared suggest cutting it down would’ve faced my full wrath.

But now, facing Sable’s provocation, I smiled faintly.

“Go ahead. Cut it if you want.”

Vincent frowned, visibly displeased.

As I stood to leave, he stopped me. “You planted it,” he said coldly. “So you cut it. I don’t want you bringing this up later and blaming Sable for it.”

He wanted me to destroy my last sanctuary with my own hands.

I expected this, but my heart still trembled.

A servant handed me the chainsaw. My hands shook as I slowly severed the thick trunk.

The master bedroom. My mother’s keepsake. The baby. My faith…

Everything I had treasured was now just entertainment for Sable.

Vincent gazed at her indulgently. “Pick whichever piece you like. I’ll have it carved for you.”

Sable carefully selected a slender branch no thicker than a finger.

Vincent turned to the servants. “Clean up the rest. Throw it all in the trash.”

Trash. That’s what my love for him had amounted to.

Dropping the chainsaw, I numbly returned to my room.

That night, Damian texted me.

[A month is too long. I’m already back in the country. I’ll come get you in three days.]

I stared at the now-empty garden and typed my reply:

[Okay.]

Three days.

That was enough time to settle everything.