I was the girl Ian Sutherland, the underworld boss himself, personally picked to be a shield for his beloved.

By the third year of our marriage, I'd been kidnapped by his enemies for the eighth time. When Ian came with his men to rescue me, the negotiation hadn't even lasted five minutes before the girl called him.

"Ian, I lost a dare and have to kiss one of the guys here. But I want my first kiss to be yours. Can you come get me?"

…

The moment Ian left without a second thought, a knife plunged into my abdomen, and blood gushed out. His men handled it the same way they had the last seven times—paying off whoever they had to, then sending me to the hospital.

In the ambulance, I heard someone wondering if I'd live long enough to see the day that girl could stand on her own. They burst out laughing, while I was the only one crying.

My mission to save the underworld boss had failed, and I was about to be erased by the system.

Ian, I wouldn't live to see that day.

The Last 72 Hours

The doctor sighed beside my ear. "Ms. Tanner, your last miscarriage already damaged your uterus. And now, with this new injury here... I'm afraid you won't be able to have children again."

I stared up at the ceiling, my voice sounding like it came from far away. "Mm. That's fine."

After the doctor left, I heard the system sigh as well. "Mission failed. You are scheduled for erasure. Would you like to restart the mission—to keep trying to save him?"

I shook my head. "Erase me."

"Understood. Erasure program activated. You have 72 hours left."

…

I closed my eyes. The silence around me was almost deafening. But soon, as if driven by some strange impulse, I opened Rose Wells' livestream.

That day, she was streaming from the villa Ian Sutherland had bought for her in the mountains, painting at her easel. The girl wore a men's shirt that was two sizes too large for her, her hair in a messy bun, carefully mixing colors on her palette. Her cheeks were flushed, her smile sweet and innocent.

"The shirt? Oh, it's my boyfriend's. Mine can't be worn anymore. Last night was… a little intense." She looked shyly toward someone off-camera. "I didn't think my first kiss and first night would happen on the same day…"

A man's voice, low and tender, drifted in. "Sorry. I'll be gentler next time."

The livestream chat exploded.

'Rosie finally got her man! Please share more couple updates!'

"That might be tricky. My boyfriend's job is… a bit special. He can't show his face."

As she spoke, her sleeve brushed against some red paint. Rose gasped softly, and a man's slender fingers reached in to roll up her sleeve, revealing a cute rose-shaped ring on her finger. "It's fine, even if it's stained."

Her cheeks turned a deeper red. She giggled, then suddenly got pulled out of view. Off-camera came the unmistakable sounds of kissing and breathless laughter.

The comments scrolled faster and faster, one line catching my eye—'I swear I just heard Ian Sutherland's voice.'

The man's voice came again, colder this time. "I'm not."

The livestream cut off abruptly. I set my phone down and drifted back into sleep.

In my dream, I was cleaning one day and accidentally brushed some dust onto his white shirt. I apologized immediately, but he flew into a rage, yelling that I shouldn't have touched his things. He threw the shirt away like trash, and from that day on, I never saw any of his clothes in the house again.

At the end of the dream, all I could see was Ian's back—just like all those other times over the past three years, when I was suffering and he was walking away in a hurry to find Rose.

When I woke again, half-dazed, the first thing I saw was a rose-shaped ring glinting faintly in the light. My gaze traveled upward. Rose was now dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans, smiling as she sipped chicken soup from a thermos.

The housekeeper's expression was apologetic. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. I only made one serving of soup for you, and Ms. Wells happened to like it as well."

"Oh no, I didn't realize it was yours. I'm so sorry, Hazel." Rose looked at me with wide eyes, her lashes trembling as a mist gathered in them—like she'd just realized she'd drunk the patient's meal.

Just a Bowl of Soup

When Ian walked through the door, the first thing he saw was Rose, hands clasped tightly, apologizing repeatedly.

"What's your problem now, Hazel?! Rosie came here out of concern for you!" he snapped.

The housekeeper looked flustered, about to explain, but Rose spoke first, her voice soft and trembling. "Ian, don't be mad. It's my fault. I couldn't resist when I smelled the soup—it just smelled so good. I only meant to take a sip, but before I knew it, I finished the whole thing. Hazel had every right to be upset…"

Her eyes brimmed with tears, and Ian's anger vanished instantly, replaced by tenderness. "It's just a bowl of soup. You can have all you want once you're discharged. Why make a fuss with Rosie over something so trivial?"

He turned coldly to the housekeeper. "Rosie hasn't had much of an appetite lately, and since she happens to like your soup, go back and make another pot, then send it over to her villa."

The housekeeper nodded hurriedly and scurried out.

Ian's expression softened again as he leaned down to wipe the tears from Rose's cheeks. "Stop crying, or your eyes will look really puffy."

Rose gave a watery laugh and threw herself into his arms. "You're teasing me again."

They left the ward together, still laughing and whispering, until the corridor fell silent once more. I realized then that the same old misunderstandings, scoldings, and accusations—things that once made my chest ache—no longer stirred anything inside me. I didn't want to argue, didn't want to cry, didn't even want to explain anymore.

…

An hour later, while the doctor came to check my wounds, one of Ian's men swaggered into the room, urging me to leave the hospital as soon as possible. His enemies were still restless, they said.

One of them, perhaps out of pity, asked if I needed extra painkillers. I shook my head. "It's fine." These pains were nothing new to me. I was long used to them.

They drove me home and left me at the gate, tossing the bag of medicine into my hands before speeding off. Ian didn't care about me, so his men didn't see me with any regard. To them, I was nothing.

When I opened the door, the house was empty. Even the part-time cleaner was gone. Then, Ian's call came, his voice as cold and detached as ever. "Rosie's not feeling well. Your housekeeper's more attentive, so I had her and the others go over to help. You'll be staying by yourself for a few days. Once Rosie's better, they'll return."

He said it so naturally, as if the one who'd been stabbed five times and nearly died wasn't me—but her.

"Got it."

He paused for a while, sensing my distant tone. "Write down what you want to eat. The housekeeper will make it for you once she's back."

"Got it."

Even through the phone, I could sense his frown.

"Why are you giving me an attitude? It's just a bowl of soup! Hazel Tanner, don't forget—I told you the day I married you that you were only here to protect Rosie. Don't think that just because you've been Mrs. Sutherland for three years, you can put yourself above her!"

I nodded mechanically. "Got it."

"You—" His anger flared again, but before he could finish, Rose's voice called from somewhere close by. "Ian, come have some cake!"

The line went dead.

Forty-eight hours left until erasure.

I felt hungry, but when I went into the kitchen, I realized everything had been taken—the fridge was completely empty. Because of Ian's status, he never allowed me to order takeout. I rummaged through the cupboards until I found a single expired packet of instant noodles.

The kettle had been broken for weeks, so I used hot water from the heater to soak the noodles and set the bowl on the dining table.

My phone buzzed—Rose was streaming again. This time, they weren't at the villa. From the background, it looked like a hot spring resort. Rose sat in a loose T-shirt, eating chocolate cake while chatting with her viewers. The man off-camera occasionally fed her a bite with a fork, his hand gentle and familiar.

'Can't you show more couple moments? That hand alone looks like it belongs to a total heartthrob!'

Rose giggled. "My boyfriend's the most handsome man in the world. Every time he smiles, my heart melts. He pursued me first, but I was too shy, too scared… It took me this long to finally say yes. The cake's sweet, but not as sweet as we are."

The man's hand reached in to ruffle her hair, and she giggled again, cheeks flushed pink.

The Blame That Never Ends

By the time Rose finished half her cake, I had finished my awful instant noodles.

On her stream, her other phone suddenly lit up. She glanced at the screen, her eyes reddening as surprise flickered across her face. A few seconds later, she broke down in tears before an audience of over a hundred thousand viewers.

The livestream ended abruptly. I was still staring blankly at my phone when Ian's call came through. His voice struck like a whip the moment I answered. "Hazel Tanner, all this—over a bowl of soup? Over a few maids? You actually leaked photos of me and Rosie online?! If she gets hurt because of you, you could die ten times and it still wouldn't be enough!"

"I don't know what you're talking about. As soon as I got home, I—"

"Still denying it? Rosie said she only ever sent those pictures to you. No one else saw them—not even me! And today's resort—we've been there before. You were just in the livestream. I saw you!" His voice dropped to a furious growl, every word clenched between his teeth.

If I'd been standing in front of him, I knew what would've happened—he would've kicked me to the floor and made me kneel to Rose in apology.

Just like last winter, when Rose had menstrual cramps and insisted I take care of her. I had just miscarried and was too weak, so I apologized softly, "I'm sorry." That alone was enough to make Ian shove me down by the shoulders.

I remembered bowing again and again—ten times, maybe more—until my forehead was bleeding before Rose tearfully said she forgave me.

Ian's ragged breathing through the phone dragged me out of the memory. I stared at the soup of my instant noodles and said quietly, "It wasn't me. I have no reason to do that."

Then, I heard Rose's trembling voice in the background. "Ian, I think… someone's watching me outside. I'm scared…"

The call cut off. I sat motionless at the table, staring into space.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Ian's men unlocked my door and stormed in. Without a word, they grabbed me like a sack of grain. "Move it. Boss wants you to stand in for Ms. Wells."

…

The hot spring villa had a massive glass window. They sat me at a table right in front of it, a book shoved into my hands. Across the room, in the safest corner, Ian held Rose gently in his arms. "Don't be afraid," he whispered. "I'm here. I'll protect you."

She buried herself in his chest, her small hands clutching the fabric of his expensive shirt. "Ian, will they kill me? I'm scared. I don't want to get hurt…"

"They won't," he murmured. "You're safe here. I promise."

Her crying eased into sniffles. "Ian, what would I do without you?"

"Don't talk nonsense. You'll always have me. I'll be with you until we're old."

The sound of their kisses filled the room—soft, wet, unmistakable. No matter how hard I tried to focus on the words in front of me, every sound still reached my ears. It went on for half an hour before stopping just short of the end.

Then, Rose's sweet voice drifted across the silence. "Ian, Hazel's still here. She's your wife, after all. Maybe you should have someone protect her, too."

Ian cast me a cold glance. "If she hadn't exposed our photos and our location, you wouldn't be scared right now. She brought this on herself."

I tried to keep reading, but the words blurred. I thought I had run out of pain long ago—so why were there still tears? I didn't understand, and I didn't want to.

I must have dozed off at some point. When I woke, pain and exhaustion dulled everything around me. The system's voice echoed faintly in my ear, "Twenty-four hours remaining."

But before I could move, Ian's slap cracked across my face. "Hazel Tanner, how can you be so vile? How dare you sneak in here while I was asleep?!"

I shot up too quickly, pulling at the wound on my abdomen. "Ah—"

"Cut the act," he snarled. "Where's Rosie?"

It was then that I realized I was in their bedroom. I didn't even know how I got there, but Rose was gone.

"I don't know. I was by the window last night—"

"Liar! Where did you send her?"