After losing my mother and breaking up with my ex, I cried with heart-wrenching sobs.

Dad introduced me to Alexander Hayes, his friend's son. But it was all a scheme.

One month before the wedding, I overheard their hushed conversation in Dad's study.

"I've arranged everything. Victoria Clarke will have a traffic accident right after you get the marriage certificate."

"Good. Then I'll sign the heart donation consent as her husband."

"Once Sophia Green gets the new heart and we secure Victoria's inheritance, everything will be transferred to her name. Since I couldn't spend my life with her mother, compensating our daughter is only fair."

"Right. I've prepared Victoria's funeral arrangements too. She'll have the grandest send-off - she deserves a proper farewell after being with me."

I clamped a trembling hand over my mouth, swallowing my scream.

They've been putting on an act for three years, just to rightfully take my heart and fortune for another woman.

At this moment, without any hesitation, I dialed the memorized number:

"I booked registry office time, but now I want a different husband. You coming?"

......

I sat dazed on the bedroom sofa when hands silently touched my shoulders in the dimness.

Then came the familiar voice: "What's on your mind? You've been distracted since leaving your place."

Alexander handed me a warm bowl. "Drink it while it's hot."

Light flooded the room as I stared into the bowl's dark concoction.

Thinking about his conversation with Dad today, I couldn't help feeling suspicious.

"Crack!" The bowl fell to the ground and shattered.

"Why so careless? Are you hurt anywhere?"

Alexander nervously knelt on one knee, checking my ankles and calves.

"Good thing it didn't scald you. The housekeeper's off duty already. I'll make another bowl for you."

I grabbed his hand and pleaded, "Can I skip it today? Missing one dose won't matter, right?"

He looked stern and snapped: "No."

Maybe realizing he'd raised his voice, he immediately softened his tone and coaxed gently:

"We agreed to have a baby right after marriage. Getting your health in shape is top priority—can't miss a single dose. Be good and wait a moment."

I leaned against the stairwell, watching Alexander's busy figure moving around the kitchen.

After three years together, he'd always been thoughtful, but he'd almost never cooked for me.

The only time was when I had an upset stomach and whined for him to make me something.

He busied himself in the kitchen for ages, finally bringing out a bowl of instant noodles.

"Eat up. I boiled the water myself and added the seasoning myself."

Afraid he'd tease me for being spoiled, I forced myself to pick up the undercooked noodles. Under his expectant gaze, I even drank every last drop of the broth.

Half an hour later, I was vomiting violently in the bathroom.

I never asked him for anything like that again.

But now, watching him simmer the herbs and strain the liquid with practiced ease—each movement smooth as if repeated thousands of times.

"Done. Drink it now."

Since he'd suggested I needed this tonic regimen, one more bowl wouldn't hurt. So I gulped it down in one go.

"Wonderful." Only then did he smile in relief, gave my forehead a light kiss, and went upstairs alone.

I took out the prepared box and carefully poured the herbal residue inside.

The next day after breakfast, I rushed to the hospital.

The silver-haired traditional Chinese medical science examined the contents through his glasses.

"Ginseng, musk... This is a heart-tonic formula using top-grade ingredients. Clearly cost a fortune."

I contained my emotions and confirmed, "It’s really not for prenatal preparation?"

"Certainly not. Some ingredients could cause miscarriages."

Seeing me pale, he offered to perform pulse diagnosis.

He pondered for a long while, watching me with concern: "Your heart meridian beats strong and steady, perfectly healthy. Why take such medicine? Don't tell me you've been deceived."

I shook my head.

"If you won't say, so be it. But I must warn you, all medicine carries some toxicity, and this prescription is particularly harsh on the spleen and stomach system. Continued use will lead to serious consequences."

I froze.

No wonder I'd lost my appetite lately. Alexander had comforted me, suggesting pre-wedding nerves might be the cause.

He knew. My mother had died of stomach cancer.

David Johnson, our family doctor, had repeatedly reminded me about possible hereditary factors. That's why every checkup included thorough gastrointestinal screenings.

How cruel they were. While plotting my demise, they wouldn't even let me find peace in my final days.

Dazed, I walked into the hospital lobby when Alexander came toward me.

"Where does it hurt? Why come alone without calling me?" His voice held an affectionate scolding.

"My heart feels tight."

I stared into his eyes, watching coldness quickly clouded with panic.

"Heart trouble? Every checkup's been fine! Where exactly? We're seeing a doctor now—your heart can't have issues." He pulled me urgently.

"The doctor said it's nothing serious," I freed my arm.

"Not good enough. I need confirmation myself."

Before he finished, his phone rang.

Seeing the number, he turned away silently: "Yeah, okay. Be right there. Keep it warm."

"Victoria, urgent matters at the office. Get all cardiac tests redone. I'll pick you up with results."

He jogged away without looking back.

I twisted my lips in a silent, bitter smile.

Just as I reached the hospital entrance, David called, his voice breathless:

"Your father said you weren't feeling well and asked me to arrange a thorough checkup. I didn't see you in the hospital lobby. Where are you?"

A few minutes later, I was taken by a group of medical staff for a full-body checkup.

The results came back expedited, and my heart was perfectly fine.

The doctor called my father to report, and only then was I freed.

In the parking lot, I searched for my car for a long time without success, so I called the driver.

"Miss, Alexander asked me to take him to the company first. I'll come back to pick you up soon."

I was speechless for a moment. "Who told you to listen to him?"

Alexander took the phone,

"I happened to run into Sophia at the hospital. She wasn't doing well. Your car is comfortable, so I sent her to the company first."

Alexander laughed bitterly after hanging up. "You spoiled rich girls don't punch timecards anyway. Show some sympathy for us wage slaves."

My car had been custom-designed during Mom's lifetime - an ergonomic masterpiece tailored to my proportions. It took two years and millions to perfect. Of course it was comfortable.

I wasn't even dead yet, and they'd already started enjoying my possessions.

Come to think of it, Sophia had been his assistant since the day I met Alexander. For three years, I'd never noticed anything improper between them, nor any connection between her and Dad.

Perhaps believing my days were numbered, they'd grown bold and reckless, abandoning all pretense of discretion.

After all, in Alexander's eyes, this love fool of mine was completely preoccupied with planning our wedding.

I didn't wait for the driver, hailing a taxi instead.

That evening, Alexander stormed home.

"You returned alone without telling me? Made me waste an hour going to the hospital for nothing."

I checked my watch. An hour? Had I actually waited for him, it'd have taken minimum three hours.

"You're spoiled rotten by your mother, throwing tantrums over trivial things. Sophia never acts this childish."

I finally looked up. "What position does an assistant hold to throw tantrums at her boss?"

Alexander choked on his words, glared at me, and marched straight to his study upstairs.

An hour later, he threw a piece of paper in front of me.

"Starting today, you follow this schedule. If you still care about me and want a child soon, then listen.

I'm doing this for your health and for our family."

I nodded.

He relaxed his expression and pulled me into his arms. "You know, I've worked hard all these years just so one day I could give our little family happiness.

I love you. Don't let me down, okay?"

I held up that schedule behind his back.

It was indeed a healthy routine, especially good for the heart.

The next day, the first thing I did at work was fire the driver.

At noon, the Clarke Group was holding a small shareholders' meeting.

The door was kicked open recklessly, Alexander froze for a moment, then shouted at me with gritted teeth:

"Victoria, come out."

Before I could react, my uncle, known for his iron-fisted rule as the head of the family, spoke up:

"Such bad manners! Who let anyone in here? Are the security guards just sitting around?"

Someone from the secretariat apologized repeatedly, "He's Miss Victoria's fiancé, we couldn't stop him."

My uncle snorted at me, "You have worse taste than your mother."

Alexander's face turned bright red, but he didn't dare to argue.

After the meeting ended, Alexander sat in my office with a dark expression.

"Your uncle humiliated me in front of so many people, and you didn't even try to defend me?"

Yes, when we announced our marriage plans, many people advised me to reconsider.

I held Alexander's hand and declared firmly:

"He's wonderful and loves me deeply. His warmth eased my grief over losing Mother, restoring my faith in human kindness."

How tragic that while I was most vulnerable, he and Father conspired to exploit my weakness.

"Fine, let's set that aside. Why fire the driver? He knelt sobbing at my office claiming I ruined his livelihood. Do you know how humiliating that was?" he roared.

"How is this any different from slapping me? Do you actually despise me deep down?"

In the past, those words would've made me tearfully yield instantly.

He knew what pained me most in our relationship was his insecurity over our social gap.

Alexander sat directly at the desk this time.

"Fool me once, shame on you. That's what my mom taught me."

"Your mom again? She's dead. You're living with me now." His anger flared. "I won't be home these days. We both need space."

I understood then—no more begging him back.

For three days, Alexander vanished. I traced his trail to Sophia's private account.

They reveled freely by the ocean.

Occasionally, a familiar middle-aged man's back appeared in photos.

They returned glowing after enough indulgence.

When I reached the villa, Alexander was laughing and chatting with Dad.

"Couples inevitably have friction in daily life. I've already seriously criticized Alexander. You should stop making a fuss too." Dad didn't even glance at me and left after saying this.

Alexander coaxingly hugged me and said, "Baby, I know I was wrong. I had the housekeeper make your favorite dishes. I'm a bit tired, I'll go rest for a while."

I casually walked into a guest room and opened my phone.

A few days ago, I installed surveillance at home.

In the video, Dad and Alexander's conversation came through clearly.

"Later, soften your attitude a bit. Don't let her find any clues. Look, Victoria's mother never knew how much I hated her until she died."

"Uncle, I don't have your amazing tolerance and endurance. But luckily, we'll be free in just a few more days."

"Don't be modest. You built a company with dozens of employees from nothing with your own ability. I trust you with Sophia."

Climbing the social ladder takes more than just hard work at your job.

Once we cash out Victoria's shares, your child with Sophia will be a legitimate trust fund baby.

Her mother will rest peacefully in the afterlife.

"Absolutely. We owe you for guiding us through this, sir."

Alexander fawned with flattery.

Father roared with laughter.

"Even I'm surprised it went so smoothly.

The toughest part was breaking up Victoria and Benjamin Carter. That man's too calculating for his own good—ruined by how deeply he loved her.

I told him Victoria's late mother wished for her to marry within their social circle.

He took it all upon himself to spare her the pain."

My phone slipped, landed on my foot, but I felt nothing.

So that's how it is. So that's how it is.

With trembling hands, I dialed the memorized phone number.

"Hello?" came the voice that once haunted me day and night.

I arranged to meet Benjamin at our old frequent café.

When I arrived, he was already seated with my favorite dessert before him.

Beyond the visible exhaustion, he remained strikingly handsome.

His downcast eyes instantly brightened when he saw me.

"Benjamin, I'm getting married," I said, staring unblinking into his eyes.

"I know," he replied, his bitter smile unmistakable.

"Then do you know what my mother's last words about you were?"

He nodded, the bitter smile deepening.

"She said, 'Your fortune is too tempting—you're surrounded by wolves and tigers.'"

"Benjamin is capable, has good character, and loves you deeply. You must hold on tight to him."

Benjamin, always composed, looked utterly stunned.

"Are you saying... all these years..."

"Yes. All these years, we missed out. When I learned the truth, you can't imagine how much I hated it."

Our eyes locked, silence stretching between us.

An unwelcome voice shattered our private world.

"Ms. Clarke, what are you doing here?"

Sophia stood beside Alexander, empty-handed while her boss carried her purse.

"Are you discussing business?"

"Let's pause here. We'll connect later." I didn't answer her, instead reaching out to Benjamin.

Our hands met, trembling slightly. Benjamin held on tight.

Watching his back, Alexander said to me discontentedly, "What kind of person requires a private meeting? And why didn't you bring your assistant?"

The jealousy in his tone made Sophia secretly grit her teeth.

I picked up my things and left, but Alexander chased after me.

"Why didn't you ask why I came to the café with Sophia?"

"People come to cafés for coffee. Sophia’s your assistant—it’s work hours. Shouldn’t she be with you?"

Alexander fell silent, his expression still sour.

"Don’t you care about me like before?"

I shook my head firmly. "I trust you completely."

Only then did he look satisfied.

Distraught, I wandered the streets aimlessly all day. When night fell, I realized every corner held memories of Benjamin and me.

“Forgot to say, happy pre-wedding.” He texted me.

“Wow, look how romantic.” Many passersby stopped around.

Following their gaze, I saw all the giant screens in the square flashing the same image.

“Baby Sophia, marry me!”

Meanwhile, countless drones rumbled overhead, soaring into the sky before forming words.

“My daughter Sophia, happy birthday!”

Envious murmurs filled the air.

“What an enviable princess – dad throwing a birthday bash while her boyfriend proposes to the whole world.”

“Absolutely! She must be drowning in love. So perfect.”

Yes, some schemed for her life, others plotted deaths because of her.

I slipped away silently.

Because I needed some documents, I decided to head home.

Unexpectedly, Dad blocked me at the entrance.

"What brings you here so late?" His voice carried a rare hint of panic.

I said I needed to grab something from my room. He impatiently told me not to disturb him and come back tomorrow.

Puzzled, I pretended to storm off but secretly crept to my bedroom window.

Faint yellow light spilled from the room, accompanied by unrestrained passionate sounds between a man and a woman.

"I've never felt this good. Just thinking it's Victoria's bed sends pure joy through every cell in my body. Best birthday gift ever."

"My love, you'll feel even better once we get her assets. But by then your condition will be cured. No more needing to take meds beforehand."

Early the next morning, Alexander returned without a trace of guilt.

"Sign it," I said, handing him a document—the prenuptial agreement.

He understood.

The Clarke Group had a rule: family shares could only pass to blood relatives. Without descendants, an outside inheritor could only cash out the shares.

Alexander used to scrutinize every word of documents I gave him.

Maybe yesterday drained him, or maybe he knew he couldn't alter the Clarke Group's agreement even with objections.

So he half-closed his eyes and quickly signed where marked.

"I pulled an all-nighter working. I'm heading up to sleep."

Soon, his voice carried from the bedroom: "She just had me sign the share agreement. Relax, it's settled."

I called Benjamin:

"I booked tomorrow at the registry office, but now I'm switching grooms. You in?"