The wine bottle slipped from Hailey's hand and shattered on the floor.

She froze, trembling, one jagged shard still clenched and pointing straight at Robert.

Then—some guy stormed in.

Robert shoved her hard.

"What are you, PR or a hook-up? Quit faking and stop grabbing me!"

Her arm smacked into the cabinet edge, pain shooting through her. The glass dropped from her hand.

Before she could catch her breath, the guy from the doorway was already coming at her.

She looked up, shocked. "Ethan—"

Smack!

Her head snapped sideways.

Ethan stood over her, eyes blazing.

"My mom was right. You're trash. You'll sleep with any guy who gives you a second look. Is that it, Hailey? Flash a little cash and you're ready to go?"

Hailey's nails dug into her palm until it bled. She just stared at Ethan, stunned.

She thought he'd come to save her.

Ethan used to be gentle—more like a big brother than anything else. That's why she said yes to his proposal in the first place.

But now?

People believed whatever fit their story.

No one had her back. No one believed her.

Her throat burned like it was packed with needles.

She swallowed hard. Even the taste of blood couldn't distract her.

Robert scoffed under his breath. "So this is who you really are? And here I thought you were just playing coy."

He glanced at Ethan. No reaction.

That was all the permission he needed.

His voice turned nastier by the second. "Should've figured. Your boss usually brings a whole crew. Sends just you? You must've been desperate to get laid."

Ethan's face twisted with rage. Desperate to save face, he jumped in. "Please. She ditched me on our wedding day for some other guy.

"They played her moans on the reception screens—sounded like a total slut.

"Always acting innocent. Who knows how many guys have already used her? Makes you wonder what kind of trash raised her!"

Smack!

Ethan staggered back, hand flying to his cheek. Hailey stood still, her hand tingling from the hit.

"Apologize!" she snapped.

His face darkened. "Apologize? Keep dreaming."

Then—he spat in her face.

Before she could wipe it off, he grabbed her arm and dragged her out, yelling like a lunatic.

"Check this out! Filthy little call girl—look at her face!"

He shoved his phone in her face, holding her down as he took photo after photo.

The fancy restaurant froze. Everyone stared. No one stepped in.

Outside the VIP room, Hailey saw him—Nolan. Jordyn curled up beside him.

He looked like a king, cold and untouchable.

And he watched it all—watched her get torn apart, piece by piece.

***

Back home, the lights were off.

The second she stepped in, Hailey saw him—Nolan, sitting on the couch, face unreadable.

Her clothes were wrinkled, makeup smeared. It was obvious she'd been crying.

The sight yanked up memories he didn't ask for.

Hailey had always been the stubborn one. Jordyn messed up, but Hailey took the fall.

Even when she got hit, she never cracked.

At night, Hailey used to sneak into his room, slip under the blanket, and curl up in his arms like it was the only place left.

Nolan's jaw tightened. Fists clenched.

Those memories should've died with Donovan.

He stood and crossed the room.

She looked up, hollow.

"Nolan... is this enough?"

"What?"

"All of it. Does it pay back what my dad did to you? If not, just give me a deadline..."

No answer.

He grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

The moonlight cut across his face, cold and sharp.

"Don't even think about running, Hailey. Not in this lifetime."

Nolan scooped her up, hands clamped around her waist so tight she flinched.

He acted as if he couldn't see it— He didn't loosen his grip. If anything, it got worse.

He carried her straight to the master bedroom, and Hailey knew—knew exactly what he was about to do.

She shoved at him, panic rising fast.

Not long ago, he'd been in this same bed with Jordyn. And now—now he wanted her in it?

Her struggle only made his bloodshot eyes go darker.

"Oh, I see. You don't want me touching you? Then who? That fiancé who dragged you through the dirt?"

Hailey froze.

His words hit like a switch, dragging her straight back to the restaurant—those stares, the jeers, the humiliation.

Nolan didn't even notice her shutting down.

He took her silence as guilt, and snapped.

"You really are that cheap? After everything he did, you still want him?"

He ripped at her clothes, sank his teeth into her shoulder.

"Hailey, I need to know!"

His leg shoved between hers.

And all she could see was that used condom—tossed at her feet like garbage. Jordyn's. His.

Her stomach lurched.

With everything she had, she shoved him off and bolted for the bathroom.

Moments later, a crash rang out—furniture splintering, glass breaking.

When Hailey stepped out, the room was trashed. Nolan was gone.

She just stood there, pale and hollow, hunched like something had cracked inside her.

Eyes empty, she drifted back to her room.

She called the nurse. "Can I see my mom?"

"Ms. Hart, great news—she might wake up very soon!"

Hailey wiped her face fast.

"That's... that's amazing. Thank you."

But the tears didn't stop. She snapped a screenshot of her mom's livestream, and hugged the phone to her chest as silent sobs shook her.

At some point, she cried herself to sleep right there on the floor.

***

Noise from outside jolted Hailey awake.

Thirsty, she headed out for water—flipped on the light and froze.

Two undressed bodies.

One was definitely Nolan.

The other... Nadine. Her cousin.

Her younger cousin.

Hailey's vision went red.

She marched straight up and slapped Nolan hard across the face.

"You sick freak!"

Nadine scrambled for her clothes, panic all over her.

"H-Hailey, don't—don't hit Nolan. I... I wanted to."

Hailey's heart cracked in two. But her eyes locked on Nolan, full of venom.

She thought if he wanted revenge on the Hart family, she could take it.

But this?

He wasn't just destroying her. He was dragging down the rest of her blood.

Eight years—he kept her as mistress, used, humiliated.

And now he was going after the girls in her family too.

Nolan licked his lip, eyes gleaming like a blade.

He kicked Nadine out.

She banged on the door, sobbing, begging to be let back in.

But he didn't even look her way.

His focus was all on Hailey.

He grabbed her throat and slammed her onto the couch.

His body burned against hers, pinning her down, mouth crashing into hers to smother her scream.

She could still smell Nadine on him.

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

He didn't stop.

When she saw him push into her—still wearing the same condom he'd used on Nadine—something inside her snapped.

"Nolan, I hate you!"

He froze.

Then he bit down on her lip—hard—until blood spilled.

In the pale moonlight, mouth stained red, he leaned in and sneered.

"You don't get to say that."

Hailey didn't know how long Nolan kept going.

All she remembered was the fever burning through her body, her mouth running with words she couldn't even recall.

Somewhere in the haze, her mind drifted...

She used to love hiking. Nolan would tag along, mountain after mountain.

Once, she heard about this love-wish tree on a far-off peak. The trail was brutal, unmarked, risky.

She wanted to go. But that time, Nolan said no.

Back then, she didn't get it.

He'd never seen a future with her—wasn't about to chase some stupid tree for love.

So she went anyway. Packed her bag, told no one.

And it rained.

Hard.

She got stranded on the mountain.

She never found the tree—but she did find Nolan.

Soaked. Furious. Eyes wild.

Before she could say a word, he started shouting. She just stood there, stunned, heart crumbling.

Then—he pulled her in.

Tight.

Like he'd almost lost her for good.

His chest pounded. His grip was crushing.

In that second, she knew—

Finding the tree didn't matter anymore.

***

When Hailey woke, the sharp sting of disinfectant hit her nose.

She blinked—and there he was.

Nolan.

Staring at her like through a fog, face unreadable.

But just as she tried to figure him out, he snapped back into that icy version of himself.

"Fever didn't kill you. Too bad."

Then he turned and walked out, leaving her alone in the hospital.

During her stay, Nolan never showed.

Not once.

But his name kept blowing up on trending—first with an actress, then some up-and-coming model.

Hailey didn't flinch.

After eight years, her heart was wreckage. Pain barely registered.

When she finally returned to Thorne Corp, every stare in the room landed on her.

She didn't know why—until Jane walked up with a file.

"Robert's dead."

Hailey blinked. "What?"

"Got caught with another guy's wife. Her husband beat him to death."

A frown flickered across Hailey's face, then disappeared.

For someone like Robert... it wasn't exactly a shock.

Nolan didn't show all day.

The secretarial pool hummed with whispers—some actress had supposedly caught his eye.

Hailey's pen slipped from her hand.

A thought crept in—if Nolan really wanted someone else... would he finally let go?

Could she take her mom and get out for good?

The idea wouldn't leave her alone.

Even after work, she was still hoping.

Just as Hailey stepped outside, someone lunged at her.

Before she could react, a bottle came flying—its contents aimed straight at her face.

She froze, eyes wide.

"Hailey!"

Nolan burst in, throwing himself in front of her.

"You bitch!" the woman shrieked. "My son lost his job because of you! Now he's crippled! You're gonna pay with your life!"

Nolan kicked her, hard.

It was Ethan's mom.

She hit the pavement, screaming.

"You filthy pair! You ruined him—now me? I'll sue! I'll watch you rot!"

Hailey just stared, numb, then turned to Nolan.

Someone shouted, "Mr. Thorne, your arm!"

Nolan's face went cold. Dark.

"Take her away," he snapped.

His voice—flat, emotionless—stabbed into Hailey like tiny silver blades.

Stiff, she glanced down at his arm. "Nolan!"

The crowd was growing.

A petite woman shoved past the bodyguards and rushed to him, grabbing his arm with shaking hands.

"That was acid! We have to go—now!"

She didn't wait. Just dragged him toward the car.

Hailey called out without thinking. "Why?"

Nolan stopped.

His face stayed blank—just the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips.

Like he knew exactly what she meant.

Like he was laughing at her for still hoping.

"Why did I save you?" he said, voice low. "Your family owes me more than a thousand deaths could pay off. If you're gonna rot... you'll rot by my hand."

The crowd thinned.

And under the flickering streetlight, Hailey stood alone—small, quiet, and breaking.