In the eighth month of Amelia Vance’s pregnancy, a horrific car crash shattered her world. Her uterus ruptured. Her baby, stillborn. The driver responsible, Serena Harding, stormed into the hospital. She’d converted tens of thousands of dollars in cash into loose change, then, bag after heavy bag, she hurled it at Amelia. “Your dead baby didn’t have the fate to be born. Take this money and get lost. Even if you sue, you won’t get more than this.” Amelia, like a rabid animal, lunged at Serena, ignoring her own torn body. Her voice raspy with rage, she screamed, “I’ll sue you! I’ll make you pay for my baby’s life!” But on the day of the trial, her husband, Julian Thorne, presented a psychiatric evaluation report in court. It claimed Amelia suffered from persecutory delusions and had intentionally thrown herself in front of Serena Harding’s car, causing the baby’s death. Amelia stared at her husband in the witness stand, utterly stunned, as if struck by lightning! *** Amelia Vance was labeled a high-risk psychiatric patient and confined to a special ward for five grueling years. Electroshock, needle jabs, lashings—they nearly claimed half her life. Her body and mind were severely traumatized, to the point where the mere sound of the ward’s iron door opening would trigger instant incontinence. Finally, the day came when her psychiatric evaluation showed her to be normal. She saw the sun and blue sky for the first time in years, but her skin, hypersensitive from the harsh treatments, was covered in a rash of red bumps. A car approached from a distance, stopping in front of her. The window slowly lowered. Julian Thorne’s face appeared in the car, his gaze cold and disgusted, as if he were looking at a beggar on the street. “Since you’re out, behave yourself. I bought a villa on the outskirts of the city; you’ll live there from now on.” Without waiting for her response, he simply instructed another car following behind to take her there, then rolled up the window and drove away. As Amelia arrived and stepped out of the car, she witnessed a scene that would haunt her for the rest of her life. Julian Thorne’s car drove past the entrance of her assigned villa, straight into the yard of the house next door. After getting out, he stood by the car door, opening his arms towards the house. A little girl, like a joyful lark, came running out of the villa and leaped into his embrace. Her sweet, childish voice pierced Amelia’s heart like a dagger. “Daddy, Daddy! You’re finally home! I missed you so much!” Julian affectionately scooped the girl up, kissing her plump, rosy cheeks. “Daddy missed you too. Did you have fun with Mommy at home today?” The little girl giggled as he tickled her, then turned and shouted, “Mommy, hurry! Daddy’s tickling Lily! Daddy’s naughty, come hit him!” The next second, Serena Harding’s graceful and alluring figure emerged from the house. She wrapped her arms around Julian Thorne’s neck, pressing her fiery red lips against his cheek, a fleeting touch that left a crimson stain. “See? Mommy hit Daddy. Happy now, little angel?” Amelia Vance’s heart shattered instantly. The pain made it almost impossible to stand upright. The sight of their happy family of three made her wish she could gouge out her own eyes right then and there. Even a single glance felt more agonizing than the five years of torture she’d endured in the psychiatric hospital. Why?! Her baby hadn’t even had the chance to see the world. Her best years had been destroyed by this woman. Yet now, even though she and Julian Thorne weren’t divorced, they were already eagerly living a happy family life with Serena and her child. Amelia couldn’t articulate her feelings at that moment, nor did she have the courage to rush over and confront them. Her mind buzzed, her heart ached as if being constantly squeezed, and she could no longer stand. She collapsed to the ground, her palm landing on sharp pebbles, slicing a deep wound that immediately gushed blood. So that’s it. Julian Thorne had painstakingly labeled her insane five years ago, sending her to a psychiatric hospital, all so he could openly be with Serena Harding and have a child with her. They had been childhood sweethearts, inseparable before high school. Their families had often joked about them getting married, wishing them to be together forever. Later, the Thorne family lost everything. Julian Thorne’s parents were both sentenced to death for severe financial crimes. Because he was underage, he was taken in by a distant uncle until they met again in high school. But Julian Thorne’s life with his uncle’s family was terrible. He was a constant punching bag, his relatives routinely beating and scolding him. He never had a proper meal, his clothes were always filthy, and his six-foot-one frame barely topped 130 pounds, his body frail and constantly on the verge of collapse. Amelia Vance would bring him home every day—to eat, shower, wash his clothes, and do his homework. He would sneak back to his uncle’s house only after everyone there was asleep, then leave before dawn the next day. Once, on their way home, they encountered his uncle, who was returning late and drunk. The man grabbed a shovel from behind the door and swung it at Julian Thorne. Amelia, without a second thought, threw herself in front of him, protecting him. She broke two ribs and was covered in blood, but didn’t utter a single sound. That day, Julian Thorne held her in his arms and swore to the heavens: “Amelia, I will treat you well my entire life. I will give you a good life. If I ever break this vow, may I die a terrible death!” From that day on, he worked tirelessly, clawing his way up, eventually becoming a dark horse among the city’s rising stars, rebuilding Thorne Enterprises. Amelia Vance stood by him through every twist and turn, from his lowest point to the pinnacle of success. She, too, became a highly sought-after research expert in environmental monitoring. They married, moved into a spacious penthouse apartment, and then she became pregnant. Everything was perfect, blissful. Until the eighth month of her pregnancy, when she was utterly cast into hell. Julian Thorne betrayed her, allowing his mistress to kill their child, and then turning her into a complete madwoman, locked away in a sunless place, subjected to inhumane torment. He broke his vow, but why did her child have to pay the ultimate price? The conversation from next door drifted over: “Julian, you brought that crazy woman back today. Shouldn’t you go check on her?” Serena Harding said, burying her face into Julian Thorne’s chest, clearly not wanting him to leave. Julian Thorne’s handsome face, sharply defined by the sunlight, showed a flicker of disdain. His voice was equally cold: “Bringing her back was an act of mercy, out of consideration for our past. Do you expect me to cater to her every need now?” The gravel in Amelia Vance’s palm was crushed tighter by her clenched fist. A small patch of ground beneath her hand darkened with seeping blood. She finally forced herself to scramble to her feet, stumbling into the villa. Her hands trembling, she fumbled through her five-year-old contact list for a long time before finding her best friend Chloe Miller’s number and dialing. “Chloe, I’m out. Can you help me contact that person you told me about when you visited me at the hospital?” “Really, Amelia? You’ve made up your mind?!” Tears finally streamed down, and Amelia Vance nodded heavily. “I’ve decided. I’m going to get justice for myself and for my unborn child!” “I’m going to make Julian Thorne and Serena Harding pay for my baby’s life!” After hanging up, Amelia Vance sat blankly on the sofa for a long time. Finally, she looked up, surveying the villa Julian Thorne had arranged for her. The decor was barely changed from their old apartment when they were first married. Even the delicate trinkets that used to adorn their home were here, spotless. The curtains, the sofa, the decorative paintings—every single item was exactly as she remembered it five years ago. On the windowsill, a few succulent potted plants were still the ones she had personally planted all those years ago. They had simply grown more robustly, clearly cared for meticulously over the years. Amelia Vance lowered her gaze, staring blankly out the window. She certainly wasn’t so narcissistic as to believe that the man who had destroyed her life would kindly care for her flowers. She was just suddenly lost in a haze. If her child were still alive, if that terrible incident had never happened, would she now be as radiant and beautiful as these potted plants? The sound of a door opening came from the entryway, followed by footsteps. Amelia Vance’s back stiffened. She didn’t turn around. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t staying next door, but had returned. It wasn’t until Julian Thorne had changed into his slippers and walked beside her that she slowly raised her eyes, meeting his cold gaze. “Why are you standing here? Didn’t you go upstairs to look? Your clothes and things are all still there. I moved everything from the old house here.” Amelia Vance numbly nodded, speaking in a flat tone: “Thank you.” Julian Thorne was visibly taken aback, clearly not expecting such a reaction from her. It took him a moment to recover, then he forced a smile. “Want some wine? You used to enjoy a glass or two in the evenings, didn’t you?” He turned and walked to the wine bar, took out a bottle, uncorked it, and poured it into two empty stemmed glasses, pushing one towards her. “A good vintage, the light chocolate notes you like.” Amelia Vance scoffed, her eyes, now bloodshot and red, lifting to meet his. Her hands, still uncleaned and undressed, reached out, the mixed blood on them a deeper crimson than the wine. She snatched the wine glass, splashing it directly into Julian Thorne’s face. Then, with a `smash`, the glass slipped from her hand, hitting him and then shattering on the floor. “Julian Thorne, isn’t there anything you want to tell me?!” Julian Thorne’s expression was calm; he didn’t seem angered. He simply downed the wine in his hand, then casually dropped the empty glass to the floor, watching it, too, splinter into fragments. “Amelia Vance, are you ever going to stop? Five years in a psychiatric hospital and you still haven’t cured your rabid dog temper? It’s been so long, what do you want me to tell you? That you killed your own flesh and blood to compete with Serena?!” Amelia Vance stared at him in disbelief, her heart twisting painfully. She never imagined that even now, he would utter such a twisted lie, distorting right from wrong. She gave a bitter laugh, stepping back, her bare foot landing on the broken glass from earlier. Blood immediately seeped out, staining all the fragments. Julian Thorne’s eyes widened in horror. He rushed over, pulling her into his arms with a pained look. “Amelia, how could you be so careless? Quick, to the sofa, I’ll help you clean the wound.” He scooped her up by the waist and quickly placed her on the sofa, then deftly went to find the first-aid kit. But just as he sat down beside her, his phone rang. He answered, and Serena Harding’s anxious voice came through: “Julian, Lily’s suddenly not feeling well. She’s throwing up and has diarrhea, it’s really scary. Please come see her.” Julian Thorne didn’t hesitate. He hung up and rushed out. Before closing the door, he threw out a final sentence: “Rest well tonight. I’m going out, probably won’t be back. Don’t wait up for me.” Wait for him? Amelia Vance reached down, fiercely pulled a piece of glass from the sole of her foot, and stared at it in her hand for a long time, until the blood on it dripped onto her palm. Then she scoffed: “I stopped waiting for you a long time ago.” After cleaning her wound, Amelia Vance took a shower in the guest bathroom. Then she pushed open the door to the master bedroom. The bedding was all new, and even the crib next to the sofa was the very one she had personally chosen all those years ago. Tears, no longer controllable, gushed from her eyes. She collapsed onto the bed, sobbing uncontrollably. Tiny clothes were neatly folded at the head of the bed, many toys still unopened. Several expired cans of formula and diapers filled the space beneath the crib. “My baby, my child. Mommy doesn’t even know if you were a boy or a girl. I hate myself so much, hate my powerlessness, hate that even now I can’t avenge you!” And Julian Thorne. His own flesh and blood had been squeezed out of her ruptured uterus during that car accident. The tiny body was bruised purple, without even a single cry, before it stopped breathing forever. Amelia Vance still remembered those tiny hands gently resting on her belly, mixed with bloody organs, a sight of horrifying cruelty. He was the baby’s biological father. Even if he no longer loved her, even if he wanted to spend his life with another woman, why did he have to kill her child?! Her wailing filled the entire bedroom, the hollow echoes chilling her to the bone. Unconsciously, she drifted off to sleep. When she next opened her eyes, Amelia Vance was lying on the cold floor. A momentary illusion made her think she was still in the psychiatric hospital. She instantly curled into a ball, eyes wide with defensive terror. Suddenly, the bedroom door was pushed open. A figure entered, holding a syringe, and walked towards her. She shrieked in terror, lunging forward and colliding with the person. But a child’s cry of pain rang out. By the time she realized it was a little girl who had come in, it was too late. The little girl was knocked hard to the floor, sobbing loudly. Julian Thorne and Serena Harding immediately rushed in, each picking up the girl from the floor, anxiously comforting her: “Lily, darling, don’t be scared. Daddy and Mommy are here. How did you get in here? Don’t cry, don’t be afraid, Lily.” Amelia Vance trembled, leaning against the door frame. Her bloodshot eyes, peering through her sweat-soaked bangs, fixated on the syringe lying on the floor. It was a child’s doctor toy, identical to the set she had once bought for her unborn baby. Julian Thorne looked up at her, his dark eyes spitting fire. He stepped forward, giving her no chance to react, and slapped her across the face twice. Blood splattered from her mouth, speckling the pristine white wall. He yanked her hair, pulling her head up, his heavy breaths fanning her face. “Are you actually insane, Amelia Vance? Locked up for so many years, have you gotten addicted to it?!” “Lily is just a child, she’s my biological daughter! What exactly do you want to do, take your anger out on a child?!” Amelia Vance stared at him, utterly disgusted by his words. Without thinking, she blurted out: “What’s wrong? When you two conspired to kill my baby all those years ago, did you ever consider that she didn’t even get a chance to see the world? Did you ever consider that the baby in my belly was your own flesh and blood too!” “Why did you arrange for me to live next door to her and your daughter? Why didn’t you just divorce me? Then you could flaunt your affair openly for the world to see, wouldn’t that be more comfortable?!” Julian Thorne’s face shifted through various expressions, the rage in his eyes flaring before being forcibly suppressed. He sighed, as if in concession, and released his grip. Then, as if with lingering affection, he cupped her face, as if he still loved her. “Amelia, I never thought about divorcing you. But you’ve had your uterus removed and can’t have children. My family business needs an heir. Lily is my first child, but she definitely won’t be my last. Can’t you try to understand me?” Amelia Vance scoffed, staring in disbelief at the sanctimonious man before her. She couldn’t fathom how he could be so shameless! “Oh really, Julian Thorne? What exactly is the reason you never considered divorcing me? Is it because the thrill of a secret affair is too exciting? Or is it because you’re inherently depraved, an illegitimate son who is addicted to this kind of dirty relationship, craving its disgusting taste!” “Shut up!” Julian Thorne’s roar shook the very floorboards. But Amelia Vance wouldn’t let him go. She knew everything about him, his most shameful secrets. Those secrets she once cherished and protected with her life now became her best weapons to attack him, just as he had sat in the witness stand in court and personally destroyed her. “Why should I shut up? I’ll say it! You, you illegitimate son, you caused your parents’ deaths because all the wealth and status you craved had to be built upon their lives!” “Shut up! Stop talking!” “I refuse! Why don’t you just die, Julian Thorne! You—” `Slap!` Julian Thorne was as furious as a mad lion. “Shut up, Amelia Vance! What did you say?! Do you dare say that again?!” The veins on the back of his hand bulged, trembling uncontrollably. His fierce eyes desperately suppressed an emotion Amelia Vance couldn’t understand at all. Finally, he simply shoved her hard onto the floor, looking down at her with cold disdain: “If you want a divorce so badly, it’s not impossible. But my subsidiary company is listing on Nasdaq next month, and I can’t have any negative news leaking out.” “For now, you just stay put and behave yourself. Don’t cause any trouble, or else, if I could put you in once, I can put you in a second time!” “If you ever dare to harm my child again, I’ll send you to hell to join that short-lived wretch from your belly!” With that, Julian Thorne turned and walked back to Serena Harding’s side, took the child from her arms, and led the way down the stairs. Amelia Vance stared at his retreating back, hatred almost devouring her heart. A short-lived wretch? He actually called her child… his own flesh and blood, a short-lived wretch?! Just then, Serena Harding walked over, bent down, and squatted beside her, leaning close to her ear, enunciating each word: “Amelia Vance, you were no match for me five years ago, and you’re even less of a match now. I was the one who begged Julian not to divorce you. You’re right, it’s more exciting this way…” Her voice paused, then she continued: “And it makes you suffer so much more!” Amelia Vance first saw Serena Harding at Julian Thorne’s parents’ funeral.
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