Alarms blared from the bedside monitors inside the intensive care unit. Kneeling beside the hospital bed, Emilia Lloyd held her mother's hand in a tight grip. "Mom, please hang on a little longer. I'll call Dr. Sterling right away. He can save you." Five years earlier, a small truck had struck her mother while she was trying to save Emilia's life, leaving her in a deep coma ever since. It had taken an enormous amount of money to keep her mother alive. To secure Richard Sterling as the doctor overseeing her mother's treatment, Emilia had spent all her savings and used every connection she had. She wanted him available if an emergency arose. Yet when she reached the hospital just ten minutes ago, she learned that her husband, Andrew Murray, had sent Richard to attend to another patient. Her hands shook as she called Andrew. Only after several attempts did he finally answer the phone. "Andrew, my mother is dying. Please have Dr. Sterling come back to perform the operation. Please, I'm begging you." Irritation filled Andrew's voice. "Madisyn sprained her ankle, and Dr. Sterling is looking after her. Will your mother really die from waiting a little longer?" From the other end of the call came a woman's plaintive voice. "My ankle hurts terribly, Andrew. Please come and hold my hand..." Emilia pressed her nails so deeply into her palm that she drew blood. "There isn't another surgeon anywhere in this hospital who can perform the operation besides Dr. Sterling. Any further delay, and it'll be too late!" "Your mother has been in that hospital bed for five years. Why would something suddenly happen to her now?" Andrew's voice grew cold. "Quit bothering me," he said, "or you'll have to find a way to cover her medical bills yourself this month." Before Emilia had the chance to respond, he ended the call. She tried calling again, only to find that his phone was switched off. Beside the bed, she dropped to her knees and rested her forehead against the back of her mother's hand. Her tears kept falling onto the white sheets. "Mom... I'm so sorry..." Just then, the monitor let out a shrill, unbroken tone. The line on the EKG monitor went completely flat. Doctors hurried into the room and tried CPR and epinephrine, using every measure available to revive her mother. In the end, the doctor in charge stopped and gave a gentle shake of his head. "If Dr. Sterling had been here, she might still have had a small chance. But now... I'm sorry. You'll have to arrange for her funeral." Emilia flung herself around her mother, holding her close as the warmth gradually faded from her body. Now the one person who had mattered most to her was gone. Meanwhile, her own husband had deprived her mother of a chance to survive, all so he could accompany another woman receiving treatment for a sprained ankle. Emilia sobbed until her voice gave out. Even after her tears ran dry, she could do nothing but heave dryly. A nurse came to urge her to complete the release paperwork. Her mother's body needed to be taken to the funeral home for cremation. With the documents officially certifying her mother's death in hand, Emilia walked out of the hospital building. She felt utterly empty, hardly conscious of each step she took. Someone stepped directly into her path. There stood Madisyn Davies in extremely high heels, with immaculate makeup and a smile on her red lips. "I already told Andrew there was nothing seriously wrong with my ankle, but he insisted that the hospital's best doctor treat me." She made a point of raising her foot and moving her ankle around. "That's just how he is. He always favors me." Staring at Madisyn's high heels, Emilia bit her lip with all her strength. "There's nothing wrong with your ankle at all!" "Of course there's nothing wrong with it." Moving closer to Emilia, Madisyn lowered her voice. "I suggested to Andrew that Dr. Sterling should save your mother first. Guess what he told me? He said that my ankle was far more important than your mother's life." Emilia felt her blood turn to ice. She raised her hand and struck Madisyn hard across the face. As she went to slap her a second time, Madisyn grabbed her hand and sank her nails into its back. "Ah!" Madisyn suddenly shrieked before toppling backward. A strong, outstretched arm caught her firmly. Holding Madisyn against him, Andrew glared at Emilia. "What did you push her for?" "I never pushed her!" Madisyn immediately leaned into Andrew's chest and spoke in a feeble voice. "Andrew, please don't blame Emilia for pushing me. She's probably in a bad mood right now." Andrew's eyes flashed with anger. "Emilia, don't be so petty. I'll arrange for Dr. Sterling to give your mother a thorough examination. Are you satisfied now?" Emilia began to laugh. She kept laughing until tears streamed down her face. "A thorough examination? She's already dead. What could there possibly be left to examine?" Andrew stiffened. "What did you just say?" "My mother is dead." Emilia intoned each word slowly and clearly. "She died while you were accompanying that woman as she had her ankle treated. Because you sent Dr. Sterling away, no one at the hospital could perform the surgery. That's why she died." Emilia looked at the man she had loved for the past five years. Over those five years, she had learned to cook for him, sacrificed sleep for him, and put up with his coldness and indifference. Whenever his stomach troubled him, she would get up at three in the morning to prepare breakfast for him. On nights when he suffered from insomnia, she remained awake beside him until morning. If he was in a good mood, he would say a few affectionate things to her. Otherwise, he behaved as if she were invisible. All Madisyn had to do was call, and Andrew would leave Emilia behind without a second thought. Emilia had finally reached her limit with everything she had endured. "Andrew." After wiping away her tears, Emilia spoke in a voice that was frighteningly calm. "Let's get a divorce."

Andrew's face grew stern, and his eyes turned cold. "I only borrowed your mother's doctor. Why are you getting so upset over it? I'll cover the cost of her funeral." Contempt brimmed in his eyes as he looked at Emilia. Convinced she had no money left, he doubted she would ever dare challenge him. Although Emilia struggled to hold back her tears, she spoke with resolve. "The divorce papers will be sent to you." A grim look crossed Andrew's face. "You need to know when to back off. Stop provoking me." His warning brought Emilia back to their wedding night, when he had addressed her with the same condescending attitude. "My grandfather's insistence is the only reason I married you. Remember your place. Don't interfere in my life, and never imagine I'll have feelings for you." Throughout those five years, she had complied with everything he had demanded of her. Madisyn had called him just once on their wedding night, and he had hurried away. Without a single complaint, Emilia had remained alone in their bedroom, waiting until morning. When his stomach gave him trouble, she had risen at three in the morning to prepare oatmeal for him. Her hands had blistered from the burns, yet he had not even looked at them. On nights when he woke and could not fall asleep again, she had kept him company until morning. Despite being worn out and bleary-eyed, she had prepared his breakfast the next day. Not once had he thanked her. She had convinced herself that by expecting little and showing him enough care and patience, she could eventually earn his love. Only this day did she finally realize he would never come to love her. All Madisyn needed to do was call, and he would leave her behind. He had refused to give the doctor back even when her mother's life hung in the balance. "You don't need to worry," Emilia said in a low but clear voice. "I'll never stand between you and Madisyn again." Her phone suddenly began to ring. "Ms. Lloyd, you need to leave for the funeral home now." "I'll be there in a moment." Without once glancing behind her, Emilia turned around and left. Andrew called after her in an icy voice, "Emilia, leave me now, and you shouldn't expect me to welcome you back." Without slowing down, she kept on walking. Emilia took care of the cremation entirely by herself. There were no tears left for her to shed. Taking out the voice recorder her mother had left behind, she played the recording. Her mother spoke in a frail voice. "Getting hurt while protecting you is something I've never regretted. All these years, you've done so much for me. After I'm gone, there's only one thing I wish for: that you'll forgive your father and return to him." Emilia held the recorder tightly against her chest before dropping her face into her hands, overcome by grief. She was supposed to forgive her father? How was she meant to forgive someone who had deserted both her and her mother? Her sight grew dim until everything in front of her became a blur. Amid that blurred view, she could distinguish a tall figure coming toward her. The figure came to a stop before her, gently placing his fingertips on her forehead. In a low, comforting voice, he said, "Get some rest. You're safe here." Emilia struggled to raise her eyelids far enough to make out his face, but they felt far too heavy. As she was about to lose consciousness, she thought something brushed lightly across her cheek. A murmur followed. "It's been such a long time..." How much time she had spent asleep, she could not have said. When she finally awoke, she was in the lounge of the funeral home, covered by a heavy coat belonging to a man. Sitting next to her was Danica Evans, her closest friend. "Your fever got dangerously high. You might have died. With everything that happened, why didn't you give me a call?" Danica asked, her voice filled with concern. Emilia sat up, and her attention settled on the coat lying across her shoulders. She went completely still. "Who does this coat belong to?" Danica had spotted the coat as well. "It was already covering you when I arrived. A cleaner told me that a man had brought you inside." Holding the coat firmly, Emilia ran her fingertips back and forth over its thick material. There was something strangely familiar about the coat. "We can deal with that later." Emilia gave Danica a brief account of what had happened to her mother, then declared firmly, "I'm going to divorce Andrew." Danica agreed without hesitation, telling Emilia she ought to have left those two shameless scumbags behind a long time ago. "Five years ago, you established Crimson Law Group and handed its management over to me. Do you have any idea how many clients are still waiting for you to return? In court, you were an absolute force." Nearly all of Emilia's time over the years had gone toward looking after Andrew. She had managed his work paperwork and dealt with his legal troubles, even securing victories in three lawsuits Murray Group had appeared certain to lose. Because Emilia had taken care of that work, Andrew had enjoyed ample time to pursue Madisyn romantically. Emilia wore a determined look. "I'm making myself my first priority from this point on. After I get everything sorted out, I'll return to work." "Centrach Legal has continued its partnership with us throughout these years because they're still hoping you'll come back." From her briefcase, Danica produced a contract. "This contract was offered specifically to you. For three years, I've kept it with me, hoping you would sign." Emilia unfolded the contract and began reading it. Its conditions were perfectly straightforward: she could freely choose which cases to accept or refuse, had no requirement to take any assignments, and would keep seventy percent of the fees. Winning her over had obviously been something they had worked hard to accomplish. However, she stopped cold upon seeing the signature of the other party. Edmund Gordon. For a moment, Emilia felt her heart miss a beat. It was him, after all. Once, they had appeared ideally suited to each other, until his family pushed him toward an engagement meant to benefit their business interests. The two had agreed to escape together, but Edmund had failed to appear that night. By the following day, she had come across the announcement of his engagement. She had returned home eventually; not long afterward, her mother suffered an injury. By then, she had abandoned any hope of love, which was the reason she married Andrew. And now, Edmund had returned. For a long while, Emilia said nothing as she looked at the signature he had written. Whatever his intentions might be, she had no idea, and she wanted no further involvement with him. "Let him know I won't accept this."

By the time Emilia returned to Shalley Cove, where the home she had shared with Andrew since their wedding was, it was already two in the afternoon. Not once had Andrew called or texted her. That no longer surprised her. Whenever he wanted something, Emilia was expected to drop everything for him, even if she was caring for her mother in the hospital or barely able to function from illness herself. But whenever Emilia needed him, Andrew somehow always had time for Madisyn instead. She headed straight for his study. Throughout their five-year marriage, Andrew had forbidden her from entering that room. He had always called it his private space and made it clear that she wasn't welcome inside. Today, Emilia no longer cared what he allowed. The room was immaculate. His desk held only a computer, a pen holder, and a framed photograph of him with Madisyn. Both of them were dressed in graduation gowns, smiling brightly at the camera. Someone had pinned a white veil to Madisyn's graduation cap, making the picture look almost like a wedding portrait. The sight brought back an old ache Emilia thought she'd buried. After five years as husband and wife, she and Andrew had never taken wedding photos or even posed together for an ordinary picture. Their wedding announcement had used an edited image created from two separate photographs. Andrew hadn't bothered to attend their wedding reception either. Emilia had faced every guest by herself that night. Still wearing her wedding gown, she had moved from table to table with a glass in hand, thanking everyone and drinking to their good wishes while enduring looks filled with pity and ridicule. "No groom in sight—guess he'd rather be anywhere but at his own wedding reception." "If that were me, I'd walk out. Staying would only make the humiliation worse." Those comments had wounded her deeply, and even five years later, she could still remember every word. Emilia picked up the frame and looked closely at Andrew. Warm sunlight touched his features, while genuine happiness brightened his eyes. So this was how he looked when he truly smiled. He seemed younger, relaxed, and almost carefree, nothing like the man Emilia had known during their marriage. She placed the frame back on the desk, turned on his computer, and began drafting the divorce agreement. Their prenuptial agreement, arranged with Andrew's grandfather, stated that if Emilia ended the marriage after more than three years, she would receive ten percent of Murray Group's shares, eighty million dollars, and a house. She had no intention of giving up a single thing she was legally owed. Once the documents were printed and signed, Emilia slid them beneath the photograph and went upstairs to pack. There wasn't much to take. She had entered the marriage with one suitcase, and five years later, everything she wanted to keep still fit inside it. Emilia rolled the suitcase downstairs and had almost reached the front door when Martha Higgins, the housemaid, stopped her. "Ms. Lloyd, shouldn't you start preparing dinner? Mr. Murray will be angry if it's not ready on time." Martha spoke without a trace of respect, sounding as though she were ordering around another servant. Emilia turned back, her eyes turning cold. "I'm done cooking for him." Martha stared at her in disbelief. Emilia had always endured whatever people demanded of her, so seeing her push back was completely unexpected. "But he's used to your food. He refuses to eat anyone else's cooking." Martha's voice grew uneasy. She had prepared meals for Andrew before, only to watch him throw them away in disgust. "Then he can go hungry." Emilia gave a dismissive laugh and pulled her suitcase through the doorway. Martha remained rooted to the spot behind her, too stunned to say anything. Andrew returned home later that evening. The house felt unusually quiet. No sounds came from the kitchen, and there wasn't even the faint smell of dinner in the air, as though the room hadn't been touched all day. A vague irritation settled over him, though he couldn't immediately explain why. Most evenings, Emilia would meet him with coffee and a plate of something she'd just baked. She often made cookies in silly cartoon shapes, then held them up with a bright smile and asked what he thought. Andrew's response was always the same. "Why do you keep wasting time on pointless things like this?" No matter how dismissive he sounded, Emilia never seemed discouraged. By the following day, she would simply make something new. "Where is Emilia?" Andrew finally asked after waiting for quite a while without seeing her. "She... left earlier. I don't know where she went," Martha answered cautiously. Andrew's expression hardened. Emilia had become far too willing to ignore him. He pulled out his phone and sent her a message. "You have thirty minutes to get home. If you're not back by then, don't come back at all." Emilia didn't respond. Shortly after parking the car, Andrew's assistant, Laurence Wilson, entered the house. "Mr. Murray, the contract dispute has been going on for nearly three months. Our legal team still hasn't found a workable way to win. We may have to bring in Attorney E. Her courtroom record is exceptional, and from what I've heard, she's never lost a commercial case." "Then hire her," Andrew said impatiently. Losing the lawsuit could push his company to the brink of bankruptcy. Laurence hesitated. "I've reached out to her office several times, but her secretary keeps saying she isn't accepting cases." Andrew's face darkened. "I don't care what it takes. Pay whatever she wants and get her on this case." "But..." Laurence paused before continuing, "Attorney E apparently stopped practicing five years ago. She disappeared from the legal world without explanation, and no one seems to know why." Andrew let out a humorless laugh. "Five years ago? Then find her and convince her to come back. I don't care who she is or what she asks for. Money isn't the issue."