When Elena opened her eyes again, the acrid scent of disinfectant stung her nostrils.

Murmured voices drifted into her ears.

"Mr. Sullivan, per your instructions, we've removed Madam's uterus. From now on... she will never be able to have children again."

The private doctor withdrew.

Tears welling up in her eyes, Hillary covered her mouth, and collapsed weakly into Jackson's arms, her voice trembling with guilt.

"Jackson, this is all my fault. If only I had watched the children more closely, they wouldn't have argued with Elena. She wouldn't have suffered such irreversible damage from the whipping... I've ruined her."

Jackson's frown eased. Wrapping an arm gently around her waist, he murmured in comfort.

"Hillary, you're still, as kind as ever. You don't have to take everything upon yourself. If anyone is to blame, it's Elena herself. She brought this upon herself."

From the side, Aaron and Maya chimed in in perfect unison, wrapping their arms around Hillary's legs like obedient little angels.

"That's right, Aunt Hillary! Mom already has the two of us. Why would she want to have more children with someone else?"

No one knew how much time passed. The four of them began laughing together, their voices light, and left hand in hand.

Elena stared blankly at the ceiling, her eyes and chest aching with a deep, dull pain. She forced herself to accept the reality—her womb was gone.

Strangely... this time, not a single tear fell. Only a crushing heaviness sat in her gut, as if her organs themselves were aching.

Days slipped by.

While she was recovering, Aaron and Maya made a rare appearance at her bedside.

"Stop pretending. Did you see how happy Dad and Aunt Hillary are together? You've delayed them for seven years—always faking illness, playing the pitiful victim, clinging to our family like some beggar."

Elena's chest tightened. Her voice was hoarse as she replied, "I don't know who's been filling your heads with this poison, making you hate me as if I were your mortal enemy. But the truth is—seven years ago, that drunken night was a trap set by your Sullivan family. I was a victim too. If I hadn't gotten pregnant with the two of you by accident, I would never have married Jackson!"

"Liar!" Aaron's shrill voice cut her off. "Aunt Hillary and Grandma told us the truth. If you hadn't used your cheap tricks to crawl into Dad's bed, Aunt Hillary would've been married here long ago!"

Maya glared, her small face—so much like Elena's—twisted with pure hatred.

"Then I'll show you who Dad really cares about!"

She dragged over a stool. Aaron climbed up, reached the windowsill, and knocked over a lit candle.

The two of them bolted from the room faster than monkeys.

Flames roared to life, devouring the curtains. In an instant, thick smoke and blistering heat engulfed the room. The air reeked of burning fabric and choking soot; the fire leapt wildly, and the wardrobe and ceiling began to tremble as if ready to collapse.

Elena limped out of bed, but the door was locked from the outside. Despair washed over her.

From the hallway, the housekeeper's panicked voice rang out as she fled the spreading smoke.

"Sir! Madam is still inside—"

Jackson hesitated. After all, they had been married for seven years—he couldn't just stand there and watch her burn to death.

But before he could move—

"Let her die there!" Aaron's voice was crisp and innocent. "If she's gone, nothing will stand in the way of Dad and Aunt Hillary!"

"And if Mom is dead," Maya added boldly, "no one will force me to eat or make me take those awful lessons anymore."

Jackson froze, his expression darkening.

"Aaron, Maya—who taught you to say such things?"

Sensing the shift in mood, Hillary quickly added fuel to the fire.

"The candle was so high up. How could the children even reach it? Unless... Elena did it on purpose."

As expected, the man fell silent for several seconds. Doubt and displeasure flickered in his eyes, his handsome features growing cold and hard.

The housekeeper tried again.

"Sir, should I at least unlock Madam's door—"

"No need."

Jackson took one child in each hand and turned away with Hillary.

"If she wants to kill herself, let's grant her wish. Until the firefighters arrive, no one should open that door for her."

After being rescued by the firefighters, Elena spent several days in the hospital, breathing oxygen.

The very first thing she did upon returning to the villa was to cancel Aaron's martial arts and math olympiad classes, as well as Maya's piano and painting lessons.

With the refunded money, she bought herself a complete set of jewelry.

After the divorce, she would most likely walk away with nothing. Jewelry, however, could be carried with her—later to be sold for startup capital.

It wasn't long before one of the tutors called.

"Mrs. Sullivan, did something happen at home?"

"If Aaron and Maya quit halfway, it will really affect their future. What if they can't keep up with the other children? Would you reconsider enrolling them for the rest of the term?"

Elena's voice was calm as she replied, "No. They won't be attending ever again."

Within half an hour, the two children were notified by the butler. They stormed in, faces full of outrage.

"Mom, what right do you have to cancel our classes?!"

Maya's little face flushed red with anger, while Aaron kicked the sofa so hard the sound boomed across the living room.

"It was just a joke that day during the fire! You're an adult—are you really holding a grudge over something so small?"

Elena's tone was even.

"You didn't want to go, did you? I'm simply giving you what you wanted. Is that wrong?"

Aaron puffed up with righteous indignation, even dragging in their father and grandmother as threats.

"If Grandma finds out you've been abusing us, she'll definitely make Dad divorce you! Then Aunt Hillary will be our mom, and you'll regret it!"

Hearing the childish hostility in his voice, Elena closed her eyes, exhaustion seeping into her bones.

"Your opinion of me versus Hillary was set in stone long ago. Think whatever you like."

Maya burst into tears.

"Evil woman! When I grow up, I'll make sure you're thrown out of my house!"

Looking at the children she had raised with her own hands, Elena no longer felt sadness or anger—only a calm sigh.

"No need to wait until you're grown. I'll leave on my own."

"If you want to keep going to those classes, then whoever you want to be your mom can pay for them."

Their eyes darted hopefully toward Hillary. But she quickly looked away, guilt flickering across her face.

She would never spend half a year's living expenses on tutoring for these two little bastards.

The servants were busy cleaning the living room when Hillary's eyes suddenly lit up with an idea. A few well-timed tears slid down her cheeks.

"Elena, I'm a few years older than you, and I've always treated you like a sister. You know I had a relationship with Jackson, and you know I came back to the country with nothing. I love these children dearly, but I truly can't afford this. Must you use this to pressure me?"

Her voice grew more emotional, and when she spotted a familiar figure at the doorway, she seized Elena's hand—swinging it into her own face with a loud crack.

Smack!

That blow not only reddened Hillary's cheek, but also jolted Jackson into awareness.

He immediately pulled the "wronged" Hillary into his arms, his voice heavy with suppressed fury and pain.

"Elena, who gave you the courage to bully Hillary right in front of me?"

Hillary bit her lip delicately, tugging lightly at his sleeve like an innocent doe.

"Jackson... don't fight. This is all my fault."

Elena stared at her fake pitiful act—and suddenly laughed.

"Just now, I didn't lay a finger on her. She grabbed my hand and slapped herself like a madwoman."

Then, in front of everyone, she slapped Hillary across the face.

"This... is my slap."

"A mistress daring to be so arrogant? If I want to hit you, I'll hit you."

Jackson froze in shock, before a torrent of venom spilled from his cold, beautiful lips—calling her unreasonable, hysterical, a shrew.

"Enough..." Hillary tugged at his arm gently. "The children are frightened. We should go and comfort them."

Jackson left with Hillary and the two children, throwing two sentences over his shoulder like knives.

"If you keep acting insane, get out of this house!"

"If you don't want to take care of Aaron and Maya, there are plenty of women who'd be eager to."

When the door closed, Elena shut her eyes lightly.

Very soon, she would grant them their wish—she would leave this house forever.

Seven days left on the countdown—and Hillary was pregnant.

Jackson and the children, Aaron and Maya, crowded around her in excitement, giddy with speculation over whether it would be a baby brother or a baby sister.

They didn't bother avoiding Elena's presence.

The joy of becoming a father again lit up Jackson's face—an expression she hadn't seen from him in years, and he made no effort to hide it.

For Hillary, he dismantled Elena's most precious study and turned it into a nursery. At her direction, he claimed the master bedroom as well, carefully choosing furniture until the villa was filled with pieces Hillary approved.

The children pressed their ears to Hillary's belly, stroking it gently like devoted older siblings.

Even more striking—when she vomited from morning sickness, Jackson ignored his usual fastidiousness and caught it with his bare hands. He cooked for her himself, worried about her nutrition. He moved company affairs home just so he could take care of her at any moment.

Elena simply watched in silence.

So this was what it looked like—to be loved, and not to be loved.

In the past, countless nights she had been there for him—washing his clothes, cooking his meals, scrubbing tables, lowering her pride to serve him.

Compared side by side, she realized she had been nothing but a pitiful joke.

At least now, she had finally woken up.

When Jackson went on a business trip, the overweight Aaron lounged on the sofa crunching potato chips, while the sallow, underfed Maya made a face at her with dirty fingers.

Hillary swayed over with a proud hand on her belly.

"Elena, why do I feel like you've changed so much?" she sneered.

"The old you always listened to Jackson and the kids, never defying them in the slightest. And now that I'm pregnant, you don't cry or make a fuss—what's that supposed to mean?"

Elena calmly slid an envelope toward her.

"Hillary, I want a divorce."

"I don't want Jackson anymore. The children are yours as well. All I ask is that you have him sign this."

The pretense dropped from Hillary's face. Shock flickered in her eyes.

"Are you insane? Do you know how coveted the position of Mrs. Sullivan is? How could you bear to give it up?"

Elena held her gaze, her tone steady and cold. "As soon as Jackson signs, I'll keep my word. I'll step aside and leave."

That same afternoon, barely half an hour later, Hillary returned, her neck marked with love bites—and tossed the divorce papers back at her.

"I told him it was just a villa transfer contract. He didn't even look at it before signing," she said smugly.

"Elena, just what game are you playing?"

Elena said nothing. She simply went upstairs to pack her things.

A single small suitcase—that was her entire life now.

The couple's mugs, matching slippers, the children's toys, Jackson's shirts and ties...

She hadn't brought them when she came, so there was no reason to take them when she left.

She boxed them all up and threw them into the garbage truck outside—as if they had never belonged to her world at all.

She shipped her luggage ahead to Ireland.

The countdown was down to the final day.

It was their seventh wedding anniversary.

Jackson had lavishly booked the entire Harbor Bay cruise ship. Crystal chandeliers scattered dazzling light, and a tower of champagne glasses glittered at the center of the banquet hall.

Alone, Elena stood at the railing, gazing at the white sails in the distance.

Her phone chimed, and a message from Giovanni flashed on the screen.

[Everything is ready, Elena. Trust me. I'll keep you safe.]

Jackson and Hillary mingled with guests, the children at their side—none of them was aware of the storm about to break.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion sounded. Half the deck collapsed. Seawater, sharp with the smell of salt and blood, surged up from below.

Panic erupted. Guests screamed and stampeded toward the inner cabins.

Just before the cabin doors shut, Jackson caught sight of a familiar figure on the deck.

Beneath her churned the furious sea, sharks circling with jaws agape. One step forward and there would be no return—only the abyss.

His pupils contracted sharply. He reached out his hand.

"Elena, are you crazy? Come here—!"

She smiled.

Jackson—this time, she wasn't going to listen.

In the blood-red glow of the setting sun, from ten meters above, Elena—dressed in a scarlet gown—leapt.

Her body disappeared into the waves, and nothing remained.