My fiancé Keshawn Harold's adoptive sister claimed I'd deliberately prescribed the substandard ointment that gave her an STD.

Keshawn flew into a rage.

He snapped the hand I use to write prescriptions right then and there. Then he uploaded our old intimate photos to a secondhand site with the caption: "Heavily used. Free of charge."

One of his friends tried to reason with him. "Anna's about to marry you. Are you really gonna ruin her like that?"

Keshawn's voice was icy and steady. "Her irresponsible prescription gave Chris an STD. Chris fell into depression and nearly killed herself, yet Breanna still won't admit she was wrong. She doesn't deserve to be a doctor.

"And I was just bluffing. I never actually planned to throw her out there to catch STDs."

I stood pale in the doorway, hearing everything.

When our eyes met, he showed no guilt or remorse. He walked over, stroked my hair, and said, "You messed up this time. You deserve punishment.

"Just cure Chris's illness and apologize to her in person."

He paused, then added, "Then, you'll still be my beloved fiancée."

I choked back my tears and shared the link.

In the next second, someone messaged Keshawn, "I'll take her."

But Keshawn's face darkened, and he smashed the wine bottle in his hand.

***

Keshawn's buddies went dead silent, holding their breath.

One of them urged, "How about calling it off? Don't let this get out of hand..."

Keshawn glanced at me. "Anna, what do you think? You gonna come apologize with me?"

I lowered my eyes, turned around, and walked away without a word.

Keshawn's cold, mocking voice echoed behind me, "Anna doesn't care, so why are you guys panicking? Someone's willing to take her. How could I say no?"

I slowly made my way out of the bar.

People in the hallway stared and whispered as I walked away, leaving me feeling lost and helpless.

Then a drunk man lunged at me, wrapping his arms around my waist and slurring, "I just tested positive for syphilis last week. I'm your type, right? Come with me."

I screamed and begged for help, but passersby just stepped away in disgust.

"Isn't that the woman the post mentioned online? Disgusting. She actually said she wanted to get infected with every STD."

"Just ignore her. She's probably flirting with him. Gross!"

My teeth chattered. "Stay back! My husband is right here! If you touch me, he'll make you pay!"

"If you really had a husband, would you be out trolling for guys online? Your post looking for men with STDs went viral. What man would want someone as cheap as you?"

He thrust his phone in my face; the post on the screen made my heart seize.

"Go on, then. Call your husband. If you can get him here, I'll back off."

As soon as he finished speaking, the door to the private room at the end of the hallway swung open. Keshawn walked out with his friends.

When I saw him, tears ran down my face.

I choked out a plea for help. "Honey, help me!"

But Keshawn didn't even glance at me. Instead, he joked with the drunk man pinning me down. "Man, you don't cut it. She's got a thing for guys with STDs."

I watched in utter despair as he walked away without looking back.

The drunk man laughed out loud. "That's Mr. Harold. He'd never look twice at a shameless woman like you."

I got violated just like that. Time ticked by, and a pool of blood started to spread beneath me.

The man scrambled to his feet, yelling insults as he ran away.

I got to my feet and staggered toward the hospital's emergency room, feeling like an empty shell.

I lost the baby.

I'd planned to tell Keshawn about the pregnancy as a surprise for our third anniversary.

Now, my child was nothing but a mass of tissue on a cold steel tray.

The on-duty colleague looked at me with a complicated expression.

"Anna, Mr. Harold's been pressuring the hospital to punish you.

"The hospital's decided to... revoke your medical license and sue you for damages. I heard it's over 150 thousand dollars."

I closed my eyes. A wave of bitterness surged in my chest.

The colleague continued, voice full of sympathy, "Why has Mr. Harold changed so much? He invested 1.5 million dollars in this hospital just for you, and he almost died once saving your life.

"He loves you so much. How could he break your hand and ruin your medical career for another woman?"

"Yeah... why?" I wondered.

I shook my head, unable to say a single word.

When I first met Keshawn, I had no idea he had an adoptive sister.

He was brought into the ER after a street racing accident, his bones shattered, teetering on the edge of death.

I fought against death in the operating room for ten straight hours to pull him through.

After three days in a coma, the first thing he did upon waking was ask his buddies to get me.

Covered in the thick gauze and bandages, he managed to flash me a smile.

"Dr. Goselyn, you saved my life. Could I repay you by offering myself?"

I didn't take it seriously, figuring it was just a rich guy's joke.

But he pursued me for a whole year, investing heavily in my hospital until it became one of San Francisco's best.

Knowing I was often too busy with surgeries to eat, he would personally cook meals and wait for me in my lounge.

It was hard not to be tempted, yet I was too scared to let myself fall for him.

Then, three years ago, a patient tried to extort money by falsely claiming my surgery had failed and left him with terrible headaches. He burst into my office with a knife.

Keshawn, eyes blazing, threw himself in front of me and took three slashes meant for me.

The day he was declared out of danger, I agreed to be his girlfriend.

For three years, our relationship went on smoothly.

The shift started the day of our engagement party. He went MIA and never showed up.

Three days later, he came home holding a young woman's hand.

He spoke to me gently, "Chris just got back from abroad and isn't feeling well. I was busy taking care of her and forgot about the engagement."

That was when I found out he had an adoptive sister, Christina Harold, who'd been living abroad for years.

Keshawn asked me to take good care of Christina, and I threw myself into it wholeheartedly.

Three days ago, Christina mentioned experiencing discomfort in her lower genital area.

She begged me repeatedly not to tell Keshawn.

Thinking she was just shy, I took her for tests and prescribed anti-inflammatory medication.

But the day the results came back, I stared at them in shock.

Before I could even figure out how to tell Christina and Keshawn, Keshawn stormed into my lounge with his bodyguards in tow, one arm wrapped protectively around Christina, whose eyes were bloodshot.

At his command, my right hand was smashed and twisted by a guard's iron rod.

I curled up on the floor in agony, sobbing and asking him why.

He stared at me coldly. "I thought you were different from other women—kind, gentle, too good for such dirty tricks.

"But you're actually so vicious. Just because I missed our engagement party to care for Chris, you prescribed her substandard ointment and caused her to contract an STD!

"She's only twenty years old! You've ruined her!

"Someone like you doesn't deserve to be a doctor. Breaking the hand that prescribed that is your lesson."

Christina, standing behind him, suddenly burst into tears and pointed at the test report on my desk. "Anna, you planned this all along! You got me infected with an STD via that ointment and faked my test results!

"Do you hate me that much?! If my existence disgusts you this much, maybe I should just die!

"Did you show this test result to everyone? Now my reputation is ruined. I'm better off dead."

With that, she rushed toward the window, ready to jump. Keshawn grabbed her and held her tightly. He turned to me then. I shook my head, tears falling silently. He uttered, "Breanna, I'm so disappointed in you. You're actually driving my sister to death over an engagement party?

"Apologize to Chris! I want you to publicly admit that out of petty jealousy toward Chris, you deliberately used a faulty ointment to infect her with an STD and tried to ruin her reputation."

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him in despair.

"Keshawn, if I do that, my career will be destroyed!

"I'll never admit to something I didn't do."

But no matter how I cried, pleaded, begged him to have the ointment tested, he didn't care. With a dismissive snort, he had the guards force my head down, slamming it against the floor.

I was forced to slam my head against the ground in front of Christina a hundred times.

Blood splattered everywhere as passing patients pulled out their phones to film my humiliation.

I was so physically and emotionally drained that I passed out.

When I woke, a message from his friend told me to come to a bar to explain things to Keshawn.

Clutching the last shred of hope I had for him, I went, only to hear the words that devastated me.

My colleague saw how distraught I was and fell silent, then prescribed syphilis post-exposure prophylaxis and handed it to me.

"Take it on schedule. Come back in a month for a checkup to make sure you haven't been infected."

I thanked her quietly and stumbled home in a daze.

My phone lit up with a message, attached with the information of a plane ticket.

"Anna, don't be scared. I'm coming to get you. No matter what it takes, I'll heal your hand."

I buried my face in the blanket, sobbing.

I didn't know how much time had passed before I felt an intense, piercing pain in my broken wrist.

Fear took over, and I screamed and struggled.

"Don't touch me!"

"Anna! It's me!" said Keshawn. In the dim light, I finally recognized him.

He smelled clean, like he'd just showered.

The scent of his body wash clung to him, exactly the same as the one on Christina.

I froze.

Unfazed, Keshawn hugged me. "I left you with that drunk guy and never came back. Do you really have to make such a big deal over that? Can't I even touch you now?"

Hearing him dismiss what happened, I couldn't stop trembling and crying.

He frowned slightly. "Do you have to be so dramatic? I'm a regular there. Everyone knows me, and that you're my girl. Who would dare touch you? Besides, you're perfectly fine now, aren't you?"

His words left me completely speechless.

"Is your wrist still hurting? I bought you special medicine. It'll heal your wrist. It won't affect your career as a top surgeon.

"Now you won't be mad at me anymore, right? Ready to come apologize?" he spoke in a doting tone.

But all I felt was overwhelming bitterness.

"Keshawn, let's break up."

The moment I finished speaking, he glanced down at his phone, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He suddenly snapped his head up to look at me. "What did you just say?"

Before I could answer, he waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever you want to buy, just buy it. Don't need to ask me. Consider it compensation."

"Chris said she wants to help you pick a wedding dress. Come with me to the boutique now and try some on for her."

"You'd better make it up to Chris and get her to forgive you this time, got it?" He squeezed my wrist, his tone half threatening, half coaxing.

"If you mess this up again, I'll actually send you to that buyer."

He didn't wait for my reaction, dragging me forcefully to the wedding boutique.

I needed to get back the family heirloom Mom left me, which I'd stored at the boutique to wear on my wedding day.

So, I got in the car with him without a word.

Christina still acted shy, head bowed as she had when we first met.

I searched her face for any trace of triumph or guilt after framing me, but there was none.

She clung to Keshawn's arm and hid behind him.

"Anna, I'm sorry. You keep avoiding me... Do you hate me?"

"Breanna!" Keshawn glared at me and gave my injured wrist a not-so-gentle squeeze.

Pain shot through me, making me tremble. I bit my lip. "No."

Only then did Christina smile. "Anna, let's go try on dresses."

The salesperson brought out the wedding dress that Keshawn had custom-made for me earlier.

"Oh wow!" Christina gasped, hugging Keshawn's arm coquettishly. "Kesh, can I try on Anna's dress?"

"I'm ruined now. I probably won't ever get to marry. This might be my only chance to wear a wedding dress," she said, her eyes red.

Keshawn's eyes filled with distress. "Of course."

He looked at me, a clear warning in his gaze.

I nodded silently.

"Great!" she cheered, but her eyes landed on the necklace resting beside the gown.

"Kesh, this necklace is so pretty. Can I have it?"

"Sorry, this one isn't..." I rushed forward to grab the necklace.

"Of course. You can have anything you want, I'll get it for you," he said.

Keshawn held out his hand to me, his expression icy. "Hand it over."

A dull ache pierced my chest. I bit my lip to hold back the pain and said, "Keshawn, that's the only thing my mom left me..."

"So what?" He roughly pulled my hand away and snatched the necklace. "Don't forget that you owe Chris. This necklace is compensation."

I pleaded desperately, reaching for it. "Keshawn, punish me however you want; I'll accept it. She can have anything else, but not this necklace!"

My hand barely touched it when Christina suddenly shrieked and stumbled back.

"Anna, why did you push me?"

"Chris!" Keshawn shoved me aside and rushed to hold Christina.

My foot missed a step. I tumbled down the stairs.

Every bone in my body felt like it was broken. The pain was so intense that my vision went dark.

A metallic taste rose in my throat. I spat out a mouthful of dark blood.

I couldn't hold on any longer and passed out.

When I woke up again, I was in the hospital.

My colleagues looked at me with deep sympathy.

"Anna, your pelvis is shattered. We managed to save your legs from amputation, but you'll be paralyzed—there's no way around it," one of them said.

I stared at my lifeless lower body, and grief overwhelmed me. I burst into tears.

If I were paralyzed, even if my hand healed, I'd never be able to operate again.

My colleagues cried along with me.

"Keshawn is such a jerk! He didn't even check on you after you got hurt this badly. That woman twisted her ankle, and he called every doctor over to check her!"

"Anna, you deserve so much better than this!"

If I'd heard this before, my heart would've ached unbearably.

But now, I was already broken. Nothing could hurt me anymore.

I wiped my tears and said softly, "Can you help me check out?"

My flight was three hours away.

If I left now, I'd make it on time.

And it was time to end my toxic relationship with Keshawn.

I took out my phone and sent Keshawn all the evidence I had collected of Christina framing me, including the test report on the ointment.

After sending it, I changed clothes and got into a wheelchair, ready to leave.

Just then, the hospital room door swung open. Keshawn rushed over to me with an unreadable look on his face and grabbed the wheelchair.

"Mr. Harold! You finally remembered Anna! Do you have any idea what she's been through..." my colleague started to say.

"Yeah, I do," Keshawn cut her off.

Then he smiled coldly and slapped me across the face.

Paralyzed from the waist down, I couldn't move, taking the full force of the slap.

Amidst everyone's gasps, I fell out of the wheelchair, my head bleeding profusely.

Keshawn sneered, "I saw the things you sent me."

I jerked my head up.

"Why..."

Tears filled my eyes as the pain in my chest intensified.

"Those papers almost fooled me. I really started to think Chris had framed you. But guess what?"

He pulled a box of syphilis post-exposure prophylaxis from his pocket and threw it in my face.

"Chris found this in your purse! Explain why you have this in your purse!"

My eyes widened in shock.

"Mr. Harold, you're misunderstanding! This is..."

My colleague's sister tried to speak, but Keshawn kicked her away before she could finish, leaving her in too much pain to utter a word.

Seeing him raise his foot again, I screamed and threw myself forward.

Keshawn showed no mercy. He stomped on me repeatedly, his foot coming down on my shattered pelvis.

Cold sweat broke out instantly, and my vision went black.

Keshawn grabbed my chin tightly, his eyes filled with disappointment and venom.

"Breanna, you hid it so well, acting like you're some pure, dignified woman. I chased you for a year, and you never gave in. I really thought you were a good girl, but turns out you're filthier than any hooker out there.

"I wondered how a little ointment could do that to Chris. So, this is it! You contaminated Chris with your own filth, infected her! And now you're trying to push her down the stairs to break her legs!"

"I didn't..." I forced the words out through gritted teeth.

I looked at him pleadingly. "That medicine is..."

"Enough!" Keshawn roared, cutting me off. "You still want to lie to me?! I won't believe you anymore!"

He threw me to the ground like a piece of trash.

"I used to think you gave Chris a bad ointment to give Chris a gynecological infection, forged test results, and slandered her just to get back at me for missing the engagement.

"I even felt soft-hearted. I only wanted to scare you a little to make Chris feel better.

"But I never thought you'd do something this vicious. This time, I won't go easy on you."

Keshawn glanced at me, then looked away.

"Let's call off the engagement. I'll never marry a venomous woman like you."

"Okay," I said softly, closing my eyes.

He clenched his fists, his voice icy. "You think I'll let you off that easily?

"Chris says you need to feel her pain. The man who bought you is on his way. I'm handing you over to him in a moment.

"Breanna, it's time to pay for your sins!"

After saying this, he glared at me furiously.

He expected to see terror on my face, to see me weep and beg for mercy on my knees.

But I just lay there, closing my eyes in complete despair.

"Bitch!" Keshawn shouted, slamming the door as he left.

A few minutes later, the door opened again.

"Patrick, you're here..." I said through tears, my heart aching bitterly.

But when I opened my eyes, I didn't see the familiar figure. Instead, I saw several men with sallow skin, covered in festering sores and warts—reeking of filth.

Christina stood behind them.

I screamed and tried to back away, but my paralyzed legs and broken wrist left me helpless.

Christina laughed hysterically at my pitiful state.

"Look how pathetic you are," she sneered. "How dare you try to steal my man? You should just die already.

"You probably didn't know that I'm Kesh's first love, did you? Back then, he took a hundred lashes from his father just to be with me. His legs were broken, but he never gave up on me.

"You thought Kesh wanted to marry you because he loved you? Don't be naïve! His father only let him return to the country if he got married. Kesh picked you out of everyone just so he could bring me back."

Her eyes gleamed with pure malice. "Do you know why he chose you? Because you have the same body type as I. He said in the dark, being with you felt just like being with me."

A sharp, suffocating pain seized my chest, and tears began to stream down my face uncontrollably.

I remembered the first time Keshawn and I were together. I'd accidentally knocked the bedside lamp on.

His expression instantly darkened. He pulled away and went straight to the bathroom.

He came back a long time later, wrapping me in an awkward hug. "Sorry, Anna," he'd mumbled. "First time is just..."

Back then, I'd felt nothing but sweet surprise, thinking he was just unusually reserved.

I never thought it was for this reason.

Seeing my face as pale as death, Christina clapped her hands in delight. "Give her your best, men. I want her ruined, so rotten that Kesh will never want her again!"

The hospital room door slammed shut.

***

Keshawn sat in the next room, separated by just a wall. As he listened to my screams and sobs, his hands clenched involuntarily.

Christina's soft, delicate hands wrapped around his.

"Kesh, don't worry. I'm just scaring Anna. Once she passes out, I'll send her to get treated for her STDs," Christina said.

Keshawn gave a low hum of acknowledgment, pulling her into his arms and pressing a kiss to her hair.

"Thank you for forgiving her, Chris."

His eyes were filled with tender affection. "I do love her and want to marry her. But she can't stand you. Don't worry. I'll send her to a residential program and have her straightened out."

"Then can you stay with me before Anna is back, Kesh?" Christina said, a flash of cruelty in her eyes as she kissed him softly.

As their lips met, a loud crash suddenly came from the next room.

"Someone jumped off the building!! It's Dr. Goselyn!" screams erupted outside the building.