Mauricio Gorton had yet another fight with his mistress, Deborah Merlin—and it was all because I, his lawful wife, was pregnant.

To appease Deborah, Mauricio didn't hesitate to take me to the hospital for an abortion.

"We never slept together. That bastard can't be mine!" he snapped.

"And because of your pregnancy, Debbie's been giving me the cold shoulder for three days."

I refused to go, and during the struggle, he accidentally pushed me down the stairs from the second floor. The baby was gone, and my leg was broken.

When I woke up in the hospital, Mauricio coldly handed me a divorce agreement.

"Sign it. Debbie said it would make her feel secure.

"And once you sign it, I'll give you 8 million dollars. It's enough to keep you comfortable for the rest of your life—even with a limp."

Oddly, after I signed the papers with trembling hands, he flew into a rage.

"Behave yourself during the cooling-off period. If I catch you fooling around with another man, you'll regret it!"

I watched calmly as he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. I didn't try to stop him.

"Mauricio, you distrusted me, accusing me of cheating. Then, I'm letting you go," I murmured to myself.

***

"Once the anesthesia wears off, don't give her any painkillers. This promiscuous woman needs to learn her lesson!"

With those words, Mauricio stormed out with the divorce papers in hand.

And I lay there, curled up on the bed, tears streaming down my face.

My hand unconsciously rested on my lower abdomen, where my baby had once been.

But its own father killed it, simply to win back his mistress, Deborah, who hadn't answered his messages for three days!

He even ended our seven-year marriage just to make Deborah happy.

Mauricio and I had been together for eleven years—dating for four, married for seven. And this was how it all ended.

My body trembled uncontrollably. My heart shattered as I recalled how happy we had once been and how cruel he was now.

"Mrs. Gorton, it's time to change your bandages," a nurse said as she entered. She paused when she saw my tear-streaked face.

"I'm not Mrs. Gorton anymore," I replied hoarsely.

The nurse lowered her head awkwardly and began to change my bandages.

After she gently removed the gauze, I saw the gruesome wound on my leg.

When I tumbled down the stairs, my first instinct was to protect my belly. But I still lost the baby. And my leg was broken, which meant the end of my career as a ballet dancer.

Now, the anesthesia had completely worn off, and the pain in my leg was so intense it tore a scream from my throat.

"Could I have some painkillers?" I asked weakly.

The nurse looked troubled. "Mr. Gorton said..."

I closed my eyes, my throat tight.

Mauricio's words to the doctors before he left echoed in my mind: "Don't give her any painkillers. This promiscuous woman needs to learn her lesson!"

What was I supposed to learn? Not to get pregnant by another man? But that was his child!

He was just using it as an excuse to make me suffer even more.

On the second day of my hospital stay, Mauricio sent a driver to pick me up.

I was taken directly back to the Gorton's villa.

"During the cooling-off period, you stay there and don't go anywhere," Mauricio sent me a cold message.

When I didn't reply immediately, he sent two more messages in a frenzy.

"Jordyn, if you dare hook up with another man again, don't blame me for being ruthless."

"Don't even think about leaving the villa during the cooling-off period!"

I replied with a single period.

Entering the house, I leaned on my crutches and struggled up the stairs.

Each step sent a burning pain through the wound on my leg.

I'd once won countless ballet awards, but now, even taking a single step felt agonizing.

As soon as I reached the bedroom on the second floor, the housekeeper Ellie stopped me.

"This room now belongs to Mr. Gorton and Ms. Merlin. Ms. Simpson, your room is the storage space over there."

Ellie pointed toward the distant end of the hall, carefully watching my reaction.

I nodded expressionlessly, while my heart was shattering into pieces.

Mauricio and I designed this villa together. From the roses in the garden to the curtains in the bedroom, I'd personally picked out every item needed.

Now Deborah was sleeping in my bed with my husband, while I was forced into a cramped storage room.

"Alright, I understand," I said hoarsely, offering no resistance.

That night, I tossed and turned in the narrow space when my phone suddenly vibrated.

It was a photo from Deborah: she and Mauricio were curled up together in our bed.

Deborah flashed a victory sign at the camera; she was wearing the gemstone necklace Mauricio had once given me.

I bit my lip hard until I tasted blood.

This wasn't the first time Deborah had humiliated me like this. Each time, it hurt me to the core.

The next morning, I was woken by noise downstairs.

Hobbling to the top of the stairs with my crutches, I saw Deborah wearing my silk robe, disposing of the items in the living room.

"This vase is too tacky. Throw it away." Deborah picked up a souvenir from my honeymoon with Mauricio and tossed it into the trash can.

"Ms. Merlin, t-that belongs to the Mrs.—Ms. Simpson," Ellie said hesitantly.

Deborah sneered, "Everything here belongs to Mauri, and whatever Mauri owns is mine."

She looked up and saw me, raising her voice deliberately. "Am I right, Mauri?"

Mauricio was sitting on the living room sofa, watching it all unfold. "Do as Debbie says," he instructed Ellie casually.

Then, he noticed me.

His eyes flashed when he saw me, but quickly turned cold again.

"Come down for breakfast," he said in a tone as if he were addressing a stray dog.

I slowly made my way down the stairs, each step causing excruciating agony.

Deborah suddenly hurried over, pretending to help me but instead slamming hard into my injured leg.

The pain was so intense that my vision went black, and I nearly fell.

"Oh, sorry," she apologized with fake concern.

Then, leaning close to my ear, she hissed, "You crippled bitch, how dare you still stick around? Watch your back. I'll finish you off."

Mauricio watched it all unfold, and yet, he did nothing but frown and say, "Be careful."

At the breakfast table, Deborah sat in my usual seat. She fed Mauricio pieces of fruit affectionately.

I mechanically chewed my food and found it tasteless.

"Ms. Simpson, I heard you used to be a dancer. Is it true?" Deborah asked suddenly. "What a shame. I'm afraid you'll have to dance in a wheelchair in the future."

I set down my fork and looked at her. "Ms. Merlin, do you know why Mauricio never takes you to business dinners?"

Deborah's expression changed.

"Because he's embarrassed by you," I said calmly, "just like he is right now."

Mauricio shot to his feet and slapped me across the face.

The slap knocked my head to the side, and my cheek swelled instantly.

But compared to the pain in my face, my heartache was more unbearable.

The man who once loved me was now hurting me over and over again for another woman.

My heart was throbbing, sending an ache through my chest.

"Enough! Jordyn, you think I don't know what you're up to?"

I looked up at him, my voice trembling with pain. "What am I up to? Trying to win back a murderer who pushed me down the stairs?

"Mauricio, I'm not that pathetic!"

Mauricio's face darkened. He pulled Deborah to her feet. "Let's go."

After they left, I returned to my room and finally allowed myself to break down.

I lay on the bed, crying silently until exhaustion took over.

Two more days passed. Every time I mentioned leaving the villa, Mauricio would shut me down with, "Don't even think about it. You're not going anywhere during the cooling-off period."

I lay curled up on the narrow bed in the storage room, my leg aching, when I received a phone call.

"Is this Ms. Jordyn Simpson speaking? This is from Springs Medical Center.

"Your mother has been in a serious car accident and requires immediate surgery. Please come to the hospital to sign an agreement as soon as possible."

My blood ran cold. A buzzing sound filled my ears.

"I-I'll be right there," I stammered, my voice shaking.

Then I realized the cruel truth: I was confined here and couldn't leave.

Ignoring the pain in my leg, I grabbed my crutches and stumbled downstairs.

In the living room, Mauricio and Deborah were cuddled on the sofa watching a movie.

When Mauricio saw me, his brow furrowed instantly.

"Who said you could go out?" he demanded coldly.

"My mother was in a car accident! She needs surgery, and I have to sign the papers!" My voice sounded hoarse, almost a scream. "Let me go to the hospital, please!"

Deborah let out a scornful laugh. "How convenient. We lock you up for two days, and suddenly your mom's in an accident?"

Mauricio's eyes turned even colder. "Jordyn, do you really think such a clumsy lie would fool me?"

"I'm not lying!" I lunged toward the coffee table and grabbed his phone.

"Call the hospital yourself! It's Springs Medical Center's Emergency Department. The number is..."

Mauricio snatched the phone back. "Enough! You think I'd believe that?"

I fell to my knees, tears blurring my vision. "Mauricio, for the sake of our eleven years together, please let me go to the hospital...

"If it's a lie, I'll accept any punishment when I return!"

Deborah spoke up, her smile sending chills down my spine, "Mauricio, since she's so desperate to leave, how about we play a game?"

Mauricio raised an eyebrow. After she whispered something in his ear, a cruel smirk tugged at his lips.

"Debbie's right." He looked down at me. "If you really want to go, get on your knees and beg her properly.

"If Debbie is pleased, I'll let you go."

I trembled, clenching my fists tightly.

The same man who once shielded me from drunk men, warmed my hands in his, and waited three hours for me in the rain was now demanding I kneel before his mistress.

"Hurry up," Deborah teased, swinging her foot. "If you drag this out, your mom might just..."

She made a slicing motion across her throat and giggled.

I closed my eyes and slowly lowered myself to my knees.

My pride meant nothing compared to my mother's life.

"Please, Ms. Merlin." I pressed my forehead to the cold floor. "Let me go see my mother at the hospital..."

"I can't hear you. Louder." Deborah kicked my shoulder.

"Please! I beg you. Let me go see my mother!" My voice broke. The injured leg I was kneeling on screamed in pain.

Deborah burst into laughter, her tone dripping with mockery. "Mauricio, look at her. She's like a dog!"

Mauricio didn't laugh, but his gaze was colder than ever. "You'll really do anything to get out of here, won't you?"

He stood up, looking down at me with contempt.

"I've changed my mind. You're so desperate to leave. Have you planned a meeting with your lover?"

I looked up in disbelief. "Mauricio, that's my mother! She's treated you like her own son since we got married!"

My mother was the only family I had left since I was little. I had always obeyed her, except for that one time when I went against her and married Mauricio.

Mauricio's expression softened slightly. Just then, the phone rang again.

Mauricio answered impatiently, "Hello?"

His expression changed abruptly. He glanced at me, then said in a low voice, "Got it. We'll be right there."

After hanging up, he was silent for a moment before turning to Deborah. "It's true."

Deborah pouted, "What a bummer."

"Can I go now?" I struggled to stand, but he snatched my crutches away.

"I'll drive you," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

An hour later, when Mauricio's car finally stopped at the hospital entrance, I'd already cried myself out of tears.

"The emergency room is that way." A nurse gestured a direction. I stumbled in that direction, only to see a gurney covered with a white sheet.

"No... This isn't happening..." I grabbed a doctor's sleeve. "Where's my mother? Where's Taniyah Simpson?"

The doctor removed his mask, his eyes filled with pity. "I'm sorry. We did everything we could. The patient kept mentioning your name until the last breath."

My legs gave way, and I collapsed before the gurney.

With trembling hands, I lifted the sheet and saw my mother's pale face.

"Mom..." I touched her cold cheek. "I'm sorry... I came too late..."

"What were her ... last words?" I asked the doctor, my voice ragged.

The doctor hesitated. "She wasn't fully conscious... She kept repeating, 'Jordyn, leave...'"

Mauricio's face darkened. He cut in sharply, "Sir, show some respect. Don't spread nonsense."

The doctor didn't understand why he'd reacted so fiercely. And I was still in shock over my mother's death.

After returning from the hospital, I wandered around the villa, lifeless.

My mother's death had drained the last of my spirit. Even Deborah's humiliation and abuse could no longer provoke a reaction from me.

On the day of the funeral, Mauricio unexpectedly allowed me to go out, under the watch of four bodyguards.

I prayed before my mother's grave, rain mixing with my tears on the tombstone.

The bodyguards stood not far away, like prison guards watching a prisoner.

"Time's up, Ms. Simpson," the lead bodyguard said coldly.

I traced my mother's name on the stone and whispered, "Mom, I'll leave."

Back at the villa, my silence seemed to infuriate Mauricio.

He began flaunting his intimacy with Deborah in front of me, ordering me to serve them meals, even making me kneel to scrub the floors.

"Look at what you've become." Deborah stepped on the back of my hand with her high heel.

"The former prima ballerina now lives a life no better than that of a pet."

I endured it all numbly, feeling a strong hatred welling up inside me because of the suffering.

Then, unexpectedly, a fire broke out in the villa.

At first, I only smelled smoke. Then, alarms pierced the night.

I crawled out of the storage room to find the hallway thick with smoke and heat searing my lungs.

"Fire! Put it out!" servants screamed downstairs.

I dragged my injured leg toward the stairs but was forced back by choking smoke.

Just as despair set in, a familiar figure rushed up the stairs; it was Mauricio.

His face showed a panic I hadn't seen in years. His eyes scanned the smoke desperately.

When our gazes met, I saw an emotion I couldn't decipher flash in his eyes.

"Mauricio." I held out a hand, my voice hoarse.

He took a step toward me, but then Deborah's scream echoed from the bedroom, "Mauricio! Help!"

That moment of hesitation nearly cost my life.

Mauricio gave me one last look before turning and rushing toward the master bedroom.

I watched him disappear into the smoke, carrying Deborah downstairs without looking back.

The heat seared my skin as I curled into a corner, waiting for my moment.

In my daze, I thought I saw my mother beckoning to me: "Jordyn, escape..."

It was Ellie and the gardener who saved me.

Realizing Mauricio had only rescued Deborah, they risked their lives to re-enter the inferno and found me unconscious.

When I woke again, I found myself wrapped in bandages.

The doctor told me I had suffered 30% burns, especially on my legs, and I might need a wheelchair for life.

"Surviving at all is a miracle." He sighed.

The hospital room door pushed open, and Mauricio walked in.

He looked exhausted, with severe dark circles under his eyes.

When he saw me awake, a complex emotion flickered in his eyes.

"Are you ... okay?" he asked stiffly.

I stared at the ceiling, refusing to look at him.

My vocal cords were scorched. Speaking caused me piercing agony, but I still struggled to say, "You should have let me die there."

Mauricio's hands tightened suddenly, his knuckles turning white. "Don't talk nonsense."

"Why did you save me?" I asked hoarsely. "Aren't you dying for me to disappear?"

He was silent for so long I thought he wouldn't answer.

Finally, he said, "The cooling-off period isn't over. You're still my wife."

I laughed in a broken voice, "Mauricio, you're pathetic."

He turned to leave, his face dark with anger, but paused at the door. "I'll get the best doctors. Don't worry about the cost."

I closed my eyes. "Save your false kindness. Sign the divorce papers, and we're done."

My words enraged him. He slammed the door so hard the IV stand shook.

The days that followed were a nightmare.

The agony of each bandage change was excruciating. Every time I saw my scars, I felt like a monster clinging to life.

Yet, the worst wasn't the pain, but that someone was tampering with my medication.

I first noticed something was wrong after a nurse gave me a painkiller injection.

Instead of easing, the pain intensified, accompanied by strange dizziness.

I forced myself to stay awake and saw the nurse talk to a familiar figure outside the door—Deborah.

That night, I pretended to be asleep and overheard the on-duty nurse's phone call.

"Yes, Ms. Merlin, I switched the medicine as you said... No one will find out... It'll look like organ failure from an infection..."

A cold dread washed over me. I finally understood Deborah's plan: she wanted me to "die a natural death".

The next day, I began playing along.

Whenever nurses brought medication, I pretended to take it but hid the pills under my tongue or pillow.

I reached out to Ellie, the only one still willing to help me. I asked her to secretly bring me what I needed.

"Ms. Simpson, what are you planning..." Ellie's eyes widened in fear when she saw my list.

"Ellie," I grasped her trembling hand, "do you want to see me die here?"

Ellie tearfully shook her head and agreed to help.

My plan went smoothly.

I collected enough sleeping pills and had Ellie bring an unidentified female body from the morgue, similar in size to me.

With so many burned in the fire, no one would notice one missing.

When the crucial day arrived, I was eerily calm.

I took just enough sleeping pills to induce a death-like state, while Ellie dressed the body in my hospital gown and simulated burn marks.

"Ms. Simpson, are you sure about this?" Ellie asked me one last time. "There's no turning back once we begin."

I looked at the scarred woman in the mirror and whispered, "Jordyn died in that fire."

When the hospital declared my "death", Mauricio was away on a business trip.