1

On our wedding anniversary, my husband took me and our daughter to an amusement park.

Midway through our day, he was suddenly called away by an urgent phone call. To my horror, the roller coaster malfunctioned, leaving my daughter stranded with me high above.

Clutching her trembling body, I called her father over and over—ninety-nine times—before he answered at last.

My voice was hoarse as I pleaded for help. But instead of his worried response, what reached my ears was the sound of muffled, intimate breathing.

Then, after a pause, a woman’s voice came through the speaker.

“Rodney, back then, when you chose to give up Freya’s son in order to save our child, I was truly moved. I have nothing else to give you… except my body.”

There was a brief silence before Rodney Laurent answered, his tone low.

“I promised you, I would protect our child at all costs. As for Freya’s son… he never should have survived in the first place.”

At that moment, my tears spilled uncontrollably.

For years, I had carried the guilt of losing my son when he was three.

But now I knew—he hadn’t gone missing at all. Rodney had sacrificed him… to save the son of his precious first love!

With the last of my strength, I dialed Macsen Sheffield’s number.

“I’ll marry you. But I want you to destroy the Laurents… especially Rodney.”

A low, satisfied laugh came through the line.

“Sure. Nothing would please me more.”

——

Freya’s POV

After hanging up the phone, I clutched my daughter in my arms.

Just then, Rodney’s phone rang again. I answered it without saying a word.

“Rodney,” a woman’s voice came through, “I saw the news. There seems to have been an accident at the amusement park Freya and her daughter went to. Do you want to go check on them?”

Rodney’s voice on the other end was completely indifferent.

“You still have the energy to worry about things like that? Seems I didn’t tire you out enough. Besides, those two aren’t fools. I’m guessing the moment I left, they were no longer in the mood to have fun.”

I could hear the sound of the woman kissing him.

It was then that I finally recognized her voice—Harper Driscoll, Rodney’s ex.

Back when the Laurents business went bankrupt, Harper didn’t hesitate to leave the States.

And I… I gave up my arranged marriage with Macsen to marry Rodney, who at the time had nothing to his name.

For ten years, he treated me like a treasure. I truly believed we were happy.

But in reality, before I knew it, my husband’s heart had long since changed.

Tears streamed down my face. Farrah, my daughter, must’ve sensed my pain because she reached up to gently touch my cheek.

On the other end of the line, Harper kept talking. I covered my daughter’s ears, and with a heart cold as ash, I kept listening.

“Rodney,” she asked sweetly, “if our son were to have another accident… would you save him again? I remember Freya still has a daughter left.”

My chest tightened sharply. Harper had already been the cause of my son’s death, and now she had her sights set on my daughter too!

I had thought—even if Rodney had no love left for me—he would never harm our daughter.

But the next second, he replied without hesitation, “When that time comes, I won’t think twice. I promised you—only our son can be the heir.”

Delight filled Harper’s voice, though she feigned concern. “But… if Freya ever found out, wouldn’t she hate you?”

Rodney paused briefly before answering coldly, “She won’t hate me. Those two children are my due—she owes them to me. Back then, she was the one who climbed into Macsen’s bed first. If both those children die, so much the better.”

“I’ll never divorce her. She’ll remain my wife forever. I’ve already been generous enough to her,” he added.

The moment his words ended, I heard the unmistakable sounds of intimacy on the other end.

In that instant, I finally understood why Rodney had done everything he’d done.

My eyes burned, my vision swimming red, hatred clawing at me until I could barely breathe. I wanted nothing more than to tear Rodney and Harper to pieces!

When the Laurents fell into crisis, my family wasn’t powerful enough to save them.

It was I who went to Macsen, clinging to the remnants of our old feelings.

Macsen agreed to invest in the Laurents’ company—on the condition that I spend a day with him.

When I told Rodney, he only smiled, patted my head, and said gently, “I trust you. Besides, you’re doing this for me. I’ll never let you down for the rest of my life.”

So this… this was his idea of never letting me down.

From that day on, he saw me as tainted!

He even began to doubt whether the twins were truly his!

The thought made my stomach churn. I ended the call without a shred of hesitation.

I knew full well it had been Harper calling.

And yet… I still felt a twisted kind of gratitude. At least she’d laid all the truth bare for me.

A few minutes later, she sent a barrage of taunting messages—along with photos of her in bed with Rodney.

I saved every single one, studying them until I could see every detail clearly.

Not long after, my phone notified me of a text from Macsen.

[Seven days from now, I’ll come to get you. Hang in there for another three minutes. The rescue team will be in the amusement park soon.]

Reading that made me finally let out a sigh of relief.

I had survived from a thousand meters in the air.

Now… the ones who should die—it’d be Rodney and Harper!

2

Freya’s POV

After the hospital check up, I took my daughter home.

Once I’d settled her in, I went upstairs to start gathering our documents.

That was when I suddenly heard a voice behind me.

“Freya, what are you doing?”

I paused for a heartbeat, forcing down the wave of hatred in my chest, and answered evenly, “I’m packing our documents.”

Rodney didn’t sense anything amiss.

As always, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me from behind.

I hadn’t expected it and couldn’t dodge in time. His embrace closed around me completely. But the moment the scent of Harper’s perfume—so distinctly hers—hit my nose, I nearly gagged.

He didn’t notice my stiff reaction and went on speaking as if nothing were wrong.

“Freya, I’m just so relieved you and our daughter are safe. I never imagined something would happen at the amusement park. If I had known, no matter how urgent work was, I would never have left you two behind.”

His tone carried lingering fear, his words spoken with such conviction.

But knowing the truth, I felt nothing at all.

I lifted my gaze to him. Rodney’s expression was as gentle as ever.

These arms had once been a safe harbor for me and my daughter.

Now, they were the very weapon poised to destroy us.

The thought made me lower my eyes. Without a trace of emotion, I slipped his arm away from my waist.

“It’s fine. Your work is important. My daughter and I are safe.”

Rodney, long accustomed to my understanding nature, frowned slightly and put on a show of pained sincerity.

“How could work ever be more important than you and our daughter? I honestly don’t know… If, after losing our son, I were to lose you two as well—how could I go on living?”

At the mention of our dead son, I couldn’t stop the flash of hatred that passed through my eyes.

Before I could speak, his phone rang.

He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and gave me a smile.

“It’s someone from the company. I’ll step outside to take this call.”

I nodded calmly, though my nails dug so deep into my palm that they drew blood.

When he raised the phone, I caught the name flashing on the screen—exactly as I expected. It was Harper.

From outside came his hurried, anxious voice. For some reason, my stomach tightened with unease.

A moment later, he stormed back in, eyes blazing, and without warning, he slapped me hard across the face.

“Why did you lay a hand on Harper? She’s pregnant right now! If anything happens to her, I’ll make you pay with your life!”

I clutched my cheek, staring at him in utter disbelief.

The moment he saw the mark blooming across my skin, he froze.

Something flickered in his eyes—something complicated. He reached out, as if to touch my face.

But before his fingers could graze my skin, the phone rang again.

He gave me one long, heavy look, and then he turned and walked out.

I bolted downstairs, intent on grabbing my daughter and leaving this abyss.

But I hadn’t even reached the front door before Rodney caught me, his grip on my arm like iron.

Without a word, he dragged me and Farrah toward the car. No matter how hard she cried, he refused to let go.

3

Freya’s POV

By the time I snapped out of my daze, we had already arrived at the same amusement park we went to on our anniversary.

The roller coaster, still hanging midair from the earlier accident, remained unfixed. In one swift motion, Rodney wrenched my daughter out of my arms.

“Tell me where Harper is,” he growled, “or you’ll regret it!”

Clutching my daughter tightly, he boarded a helicopter. As it rose higher and higher, my heart lurched. And then—without a shred of hesitation—he placed Farrah back into that same faulty roller coaster.

She had already been traumatized by it once.

Now, she wailed uncontrollably.

Her cries tore through me, each sob shredding my chest. Watching the roller coaster sway slightly under his manipulation, I could barely breathe.

“I don’t know anything, Rodney!” I screamed hoarsely. “I don’t care who kidnapped Harper—just put my daughter down now!”

I was nearly hysterical.

But the tender, doting father from earlier was gone. In his place stood a cold, unfeeling man, his expression like stone as he deliberately rocked the car.

“I’ll give you ten seconds,” he said flatly. “And I’ll keep shaking it harder each time I count.”

True to his word, he increased the force.

I stared at my daughter, her sobs breaking into hiccups, my nails digging deep into my palms. He showed us no mercy—none at all. My chest ached so violently I thought I might faint.

Seeing her tiny body tremble, her cries nearly turning into convulsions, my tears finally spilled over.

“Rodney, I truly don’t know! I have no idea where Harper is! Please, just bring our daughter down—she can’t take this anymore!”

My plea didn’t move him in the slightest. He simply kept counting, voice as cold as steel.

“Eight.”

Just earlier, at home, he had apologized for what happened on the roller coaster.

And now—because of Harper—he had become the executioner, personally threatening us.

I broke into a scream. “Rodney! Go check! Look at the surveillance footage! I didn’t kidnap Harper! Please, let Farrah go! She’s your child too! She’s about to collapse! I’m begging you—please!”

I even dropped to my knees in desperation.

But he didn’t so much as glance at me. The cold, relentless countdown continued.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I scrambled toward the roller coaster, trying to climb up.

He watched me with icy detachment.

Just as the countdown neared its end, my fingers brushed the edge of Farrah’s car. My heart leapt—I reached out without a thought for my own safety, desperate to pull her free.

But in the next instant, Rodney yanked me back onto the helicopter, and, with a sharp crack, he slapped me hard across the face.

“Are you insane? Climbing that high—what if you fell?”

For a brief moment, his eyes betrayed a flicker of worry.

But I could no longer believe in him.

Gripping his sleeve, I choked out, “I’m begging you, Rodney. Do whatever you want to me. Blame me for kidnapping Harper if you must. Just let her go—I’ll take Farrah’s place in that car if that’s what you want.”

He gripped my sleeve tightly, roaring, “For the sake of that bastard you had with Macsen, you’d even throw away your life? Then why did you marry me?!”

With that, he shoved me toward one of his bodyguards.

“I won’t let that bastard live. You’d better tell me where Harper is, or else, I’ll make that bastard pay with her life!”

I thrashed against their hold, tears streaming freely.

“I really don’t know! After we got off the roller coaster, we went straight home! I never had the chance to kidnap Harper! Farrah’s your daughter, Rodney! You can do a DNA test if you don’t believe me! But please, let her go now!”

I wailed, throwing my dignity into the dirt for him to trample.

And still… he refused to believe me.

4

Freya’s POV

Rodney heard my words. But instead of calming down, his fury only intensified. With a sudden and violent shove, he pushed hard against the roller coaster car.

Farrah had already lost consciousness completely. Her small body began sliding toward the edge.

Beneath her was nothing but a thousand-meter drop. One fall, and there would be nothing left of her.

A madness took hold of me. I struggled like someone possessed, desperate to pull her back—but the hands restraining me refused to loosen.

Rodney merely stood there, watching my frantic struggle with cold detachment, as though he were watching some circus performance.

At that moment, I understood—he had never once truly cared about me or our daughter.

“I’ve already done the paternity test, Freya,” he said, his voice cruel and unyielding. “Your words mean nothing now.”

He announced that false result with merciless finality.

I couldn’t understand why the paternity test—false as it was—had turned his attitude so vicious. But I was certain, beyond all doubt, that my daughter was his flesh and blood.

Before I could speak, his phone rang again. It was his assistant.

A flash of urgency crossed Rodney’s face. He answered quickly, and because he stood so close, I could hear every word.

“Sir, we’ve located Ms. Driscoll. She was being held in an abandoned factory. Luckily, we got there in time. If we didn't, I’m afraid her child wouldn’t have made it. She’s been sent to the hospital now.”

The moment he heard the child was safe, the tension in Rodney’s face eased.

But when his gaze swung back to me, it turned cold again—cold and full of rage.

“I never imagined you could be so vicious, Freya. You’ll pay for this.”

“No! It wasn’t me! You can investigate if you want! It wasn’t me!”

Panic surged through me. I clutched at the leg of his trousers, desperate for him to believe me.

But he kicked me away without hesitation. And then, before my horrified eyes, he struck the final blow to my daughter, who was barely clinging to the car.

“No!”

I watched her slip away, falling from the roller coaster.

With the last of my strength, I broke free from the grip holding me and hurled myself forward, ready to follow her—ready to leave this world with her.

But a hand shot out from behind me, seizing me in a crushing grip.

I turned my head to see Rodney, the veins in his arm bulging as he dragged me back. Remembering how mercilessly he’d just treated our daughter, I bit down hard on his arm.

But he didn’t let go. Even through the pain, he pulled me all the way back into his arms.

He held me tightly, his tears falling hot against my neck.

“It’s fine,” he whispered harshly. “That little brat is dead, and that’s how it should be. Only with her gone can we start over. This… This is the price you had to pay.”

I thrashed and fought with everything I had, but his strength was overwhelming.

As darkness closed in on me, my unwilling eyes searched the ground below—desperately, hopelessly—trying to catch even the faintest glimpse of my daughter.

5

Freya’s POV

When I woke again, my gaze met the stark white ceiling above me. Ignoring the weakness that still clung to my limbs, I tried to push myself upright.

But before I could, a long and strong hand reached out from beside me and pressed me firmly back down.

It was Rodney. The faint crescent-shaped bite mark I’d left earlier was still etched into his wrist.

His brows furrowed as he forced me back against the pillow, and then he reached for a glass of juice.

“Drink some juice first,” he said.

I pushed his hand aside without a second thought, my voice urgent. “Where’s my daughter? Where is she?!”

He answered as though I hadn’t even asked. “Not a fan of cranberry? I’ll have someone bring another.”

My patience snapped. I knocked the glass from his hand, sending the dark red liquid splattering across the floor.

“You murderer!” I screamed. “Where is my daughter?!”

His expression darkened instantly. Rage flashed in his eyes as he slammed a fist into the wall.

“Daughter, daughter—she’s all you ever think about! Let me tell you—because of you, Harper was frightened and lost so much blood she’s on the verge of collapse! Until you make amends, I will never let you see that bastard again!”

My heart twisted like a blade was buried inside.

“She’s not a bastard,” I rasped, my throat raw. “She’s your child!”

But Rodney’s gaze was as cold as iron, unmoved by my pain.

“That brat is in the emergency room right now,” he said flatly. “If you don’t apologize to Harper, I’ll order the doctors to stop trying to save her.”

The words knocked the air out of me. I slumped back onto the bed, my voice trembling.

“Fine… I’ll apologize to her.”

For a moment, his expression faltered—surprise flickering in his eyes—but just as quickly it was gone, replaced by that familiar, impenetrable mask.

In silence, I let him drag me toward Harper’s hospital room.

We hadn’t even stepped inside when chaos erupted from within. Rodney’s assistant burst out, panic written across his face.

“Sir, the doctor says Ms. Driscoll has lost too much blood—she needs an immediate transfusion!”

Rodney froze, then whipped around as if a thought had just struck him. Without warning, he yanked me into the room.

“Doctor! Use her blood!”

The doctor frowned, glancing from me to my hospital gown. His eyes widened.

“Sir, that patient is already anemic. Drawing her blood could put her in serious danger. We can easily request compatible blood from the bank—”

Rodney’s voice cut like ice.

“I’m not asking for your opinion. Just do as I say.”

Under his unyielding demand, the thick needle pierced my arm.

I shut my eyes tight, forcing myself to endure the dizziness. I only wanted this over with. The sooner it was done, the sooner I could see my daughter.

Rodney reached as if to smooth the deep furrow in my brow, but I turned my head sharply away.

“Freya,” he murmured, voice low and falsely gentle, “I know you’re in pain, but this is you paying for what you’ve done. Bear with it. It will be over soon.”

I didn’t so much as glance at him.

When it was finally over, my body gave out. I collapsed weakly onto the floor.

As he moved toward the ward door, ready to rush to Harper, I forced my voice out, hoarse and faint.

“Now… can I see my daughter?”

Even then, seeing me like this, he only scowled.

“You care so much for that brat,” he said coldly, “but you still haven’t apologized to Harper. Until you do, you won’t see Farrah.”

I no longer had the strength—or the will—to remind him that my daughter was his own flesh and blood.

Four more days—just four more days, and I could take her away for good.

When that day came, Rodney would never again be her father!

6

Freya’s POV

Thinking of my plan, I turned and followed Rodney into Harper’s hospital room.

On the bed, Harper had rosy cheeks and no trace of the blood loss she’d supposedly suffered.

She curled her arm around Rodney’s hand and smiled sweetly at me. “Freya, I really must thank you for giving me your blood. If it weren’t for you, I might not have been able to keep the baby. If that had happened, I would have let Rodney down.”

Expressionless, I lowered my head and gave her a curt apology.

Her eyes glimmered with a fleeting triumph before she softened her gaze, looking at me with a mock pity.

“Your daughter’s dead now, yet you were still willing to give me blood. You really are… such a good person.”

Her words froze me in place. My eyes widened in disbelief. “What nonsense are you talking about? Didn’t Rodney say my daughter was still in the ER?!”

She feigned surprise, covering her mouth delicately.

“Oh? Rodney, you didn’t tell her?” She gave me an apologetic look, though her voice carried a cruel lilt. “I’m so sorry… but your daughter really is dead. They’ve already sent her body to the morgue.”

She shot me a deliberately provoking glance.

My mind went white. Without another thought, I lunged forward and clamped my hands around her throat.

Her face instantly twisted in fear.

In the next moment, Rodney yanked me backward and hurled me across the room.

My head slammed hard against the corner of the wall, and in an instant, blood trickled down my face.

But the pain barely registered. I staggered to my feet and rushed at her again, desperate for her to explain herself clearly.

Rodney pinned me down with a grip like iron, his expression glacial. “How dare you lay a hand on Harper in front of me!”

“I’ve already apologized to her!” My voice cracked with fury. “I just want to see my daughter!”

“You killed my son, and now you want to kill my daughter?” My throat burned as I shouted at them both. “I swear, Rodney, you and Harper will get what you deserve!”

Something flickered in his eyes—panic—but it vanished just as quickly, replaced by a deep frown and cold contempt.

“You really have gone mad. You were the one who lost our son. And your daughter’s fine—Harper was only teasing you. Can’t you be reasonable for once?”

I wanted to scream until my voice tore apart. I wanted to destroy the two of them standing before me.

But then, a thick needle jabbed into the back of my neck.

The strength drained from my body, and I collapsed to the floor.

When I opened my eyes again, Rodney was sitting by the bed. My voice came out hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

“Rodney… I’ll give you and Harper my blessing—if you give me back my daughter.”

He stiffened at my words.

After a long moment, he spoke, his voice heavy. “Farrah… She didn’t make it. The resuscitation failed. She’s… gone.”

My eyes slowly widened as his words sank in.

A laugh burst from me, sharp and hollow, filling the hospital room with its echo. It was laughter steeped in pain.

Tears streamed freely down my face as I looked at him, my gaze brimming with hatred.

“I don’t believe my daughter is dead! Bring her back to me, Rodney! Or I swear, I won’t spare Harper or that bastard child of hers!”

His expression hardened. “What do you think you’re going to do to them? You already kidnapped Harper, and the two you gave birth to are the real bastards! They’re innocent!”

I no longer argued with him over the children’s parentage. My voice was low, cold, and unshakable.

“She’s not innocent! If she is truly dead… I will make sure they are buried with her!”

Rodney’s chest rose and fell sharply, his eyes widening in disbelief as if he couldn’t fathom I would say such a thing.

At that moment, Harper strode in from the doorway and, without warning, she slapped me hard across the face.

7

Freya’s POV

Harper wept, tears streaming down her cheeks like petals in the rain. “If you have a problem, take it out on me. Why go after Kayden? He’s just a kid! I’ll apologize to you—just please, let him go, all right?”

As she spoke, she started to beg for my forgiveness.

Rodney stepped forward and pulled the pitiful Harper into his arms, his gaze hardening as he turned to glare at me.

“How dare you lay a hand on my child!”

“Rodney,” I said flatly, “If you don’t give me my daughter back, I’ll kill him.”

I met his eyes without flinching, openly taking on a crime I hadn’t committed. The boy wasn’t even in my hands, but that didn’t matter now.

His expression darkened with hatred, yet he still refused to say whether my daughter was alive.

Watching him, my heart plummeted to the very bottom.

Could it be true? Was my daughter truly… dead?

The thought tore through me, and I could no longer hold myself back. I lunged forward and wrapped my hands around Harper’s throat.

“Rodney, give my daughter back to me! If she’s dead, Harper will go to the grave with her!”

Harper clearly hadn’t expected me to act so recklessly. Her smug expression collapsed into sheer panic.

Rodney’s eyes flickered toward her, his hands lifting as if to calm me down.

But in the next second, the hospital room flooded with bodyguards. They wrenched Harper from my grip, and I was instantly surrounded.

Slaps rained down on my face—hard, stinging blows—while Rodney stayed at Harper’s side, soothing her like a frightened child. His gaze, however, when it turned back to me, was pure ice.

“Throw her into the cold storage,” he ordered. “When she’s ready to tell us where Kayden is, let her out. If not, keep her there until I find him myself!”

The next second, they stripped away my clothes and shoved me into a freezing storage room. The air bit at my skin like knives; it was thirty degrees below zero. Standing at the doorway, Rodney met my eyes.

“Rodney,” I rasped, my voice raw from the cold, “I truly regret ever marrying you!”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second… But in the end, he turned without a word and walked away.

When the door finally opened again, three hours had passed. I uncurled my stiff, frozen body and slowly stepped out.

Rodney stood there holding Harper protectively, his gaze wary.

Behind them, Harper’s son looked perfectly healthy—looking warm and utterly unshaken.

I didn’t spare them another glance. Instead, I walked past and retrieved my phone from the room.

I typed a message to Macsen.

[Macsen, is my daughter still alive?]

I gripped the phone so tightly my knuckles ached. If Farrah was truly gone, I would set this entire place ablaze and drag every last one of them into the flames with me!

A reply came almost immediately.

[My men saved her. She’s fine. Get your documents ready. Tomorrow, I’ll come with your daughter to pick you up.]

My vision blurred as tears finally spilled over.

Thank God. Thank God my daughter was still alive!

Just then, Rodney stepped forward.

His expression was complicated as he studied me. “Who are you talking to?”

I didn’t even look at him. “Someone you don’t know,” I replied coolly.

He reached out, trying to snatch my phone, but I didn’t resist.

Still, no matter how he tried, he couldn’t unlock it. In the end, he had to hand it back, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“Tomorrow,” he said flatly, “you’re coming with me to a press conference. You’ll publicly admit that we’re already divorced.”

A short laugh escaped me as I idly scrolled through my phone. That was when I saw the news—Rodney had been far too brazen these past few days. His relationship with Harper was now all over the internet.

Only the identity of their child had been carefully kept under wraps.

8

Freya’s POV

No wonder Rodney was in such a rush.

Well, I agreed without much care.

After all, by tomorrow, I would be leaving with Macsen for good.

I’d let Rodney and Harper bear the bitter fruit they planted.

But when Rodney heard how readily I agreed, he didn’t look pleased. Instead, his brows knitted tighter.

Almost as if compelled, he muttered, “This is just for the company’s sake. I won’t divorce you. Harper has a gentle temperament—she won’t make a fuss. As long as you stay away from Macsen, you will always be my wife.”

He reached out, as if wanting to embrace me like he used to.

But I stepped aside, my movements subtle but unmistakable.

“Shouldn’t you go check on Harper? She’s been calling for you downstairs for quite a while,” I said, pointing toward the stairs.

Rodney studied me with a complicated expression. Downstairs, Harper’s voice carried an urgent edge.

Eventually, he turned and went down.

While I was left alone, I gathered all the identification documents belonging to me and my daughter. And then, I carefully packed away every luxury item Rodney had ever given me.

Tomorrow, all of it would be donated.

Just as I closed the bedroom door, he appeared in the doorway, his face twisted with fury.

Before I could speak, he lunged forward, yanking me by the arm and dragging me downstairs.

The moment my feet touched the floor, a sharp slap cracked across my face.

His eyes blazed with hatred. “I never realized you could be such a vicious woman, Freya!”

I pressed a hand to my cheek and looked around—finally taking in the scene before me.

Kayden lay on the floor, his face red and swollen. Beside him knelt his mother, crying miserably.

Seeing my gaze, Harper sobbed even louder, her tone dripping with wounded innocence.

“Freya, I know my relationship with Rodney makes you unhappy, but my boy is innocent! How could you have the nanny feed him something he’s allergic to?”

Then she turned to Rodney, her voice trembling with grief.

“Rodney… I think I should take him and leave. If he keeps living under the same roof as Freya, I truly don’t know what might happen to him. If you miss us… you can always come visit.”

With that, she took Kayden’s hand and was about to leave.

The nanny stood by, wringing her hands, her voice breaking.

“S-Sir, it was Ma’am Freya who told me to give him the allergenic food. She said if the boy died from it, no one could blame her. I had no choice, sir. I can’t afford to lose this job!”

I just stood to the side, not intending to defend myself at all.

Taking my silence as admission, disappointment flickered in Rodney’s eyes.

He caught Harper and Kayden by the arm, his words like a verdict.

“The ones who should leave aren’t you two. I’ll protect you. The one who needs to go… is her.”

His gaze locked on mine, unwavering.

I stood there, expressionless, as though awaiting judgment.

He scooped Kayden into his arms, his tone colder than ice.

“I’m taking him to the doctor. We won’t be coming back tonight. After tomorrow’s press conference, you’ll move out.”

Without another glance, he led Harper away.

For generations, every woman who married into the Laurents had lived in this villa.

Now, Rodney wanted me to announce our divorce at the press conference and move out of this place.

Soon, there would be nothing left between us—not even the paper-thin bond of marriage.

Sure enough, his lawyer arrived not long after.

With a blank expression, he handed me a divorce agreement.

“This is Sir Rodney’s instruction. Please don’t make things difficult for me, ma’am.”

I gave a faint, almost amused smile. Taking the pen from his hand, I signed my name without the slightest hesitation.

The next day, I dismissed all the servants from the villa and carried out the luggage I had packed the night before.

Before leaving, I called Macsen.

“The evidence I gave you before—you can use it now. Tomorrow’s the press conference. I want them utterly ruined.”

On the other end, Macsen chuckled softly, agreeing without hesitation.

Moments later, a Rolls-Royce pulled up at the villa gate.

The driver, someone Macsen had arranged for me, waited with the door open.

Before getting in, I poured gasoline around the villa.

It only took a single spark.

And the flames roared to life, devouring everything in an instant.

I turned, stepped into the car, and let the wind from the open window whip across my face.

For the first time in a long while, I smiled—truly smiled.

From this moment on, Rodney and Harper would know what it was to live in abyss!