My husband and son? They were both deeply, toxically possessive. They loved to test the limits of my affection, pushing me away, acting cold. They even hired Seraphina, showering her with fake adoration, just to watch me crumble with jealousy and pain. Each time they saw the hurt in my eyes, they’d secretly tremble with perverse delight, a sick thrill running through their fingertips. I knew their game, but I never called them out. I just silently played along in their absurd charade. Until that day, when Seraphina and I were both caught in an accident and rushed to the emergency room. The doctor’s face was grim. “Both patients have severe, comminuted fractures in their arms. We only have one surgeon capable of the intricate repair work. Who goes first? The second patient risks permanent disability.” In my hazy consciousness, I heard Caleb’s voice, my son’s, childish yet disturbingly calm: “Dad, let’s save Aunt Seraphina first.” “If Mom’s hand is permanently damaged, she won’t be able to give piano concerts anymore.” “That way, she’ll have more time to spend with us.” “Don’t you want to see her all the time, for her world to only revolve around us?” Donovan, my husband, was silent for a long moment. Then, he spoke: “Save Seraphina first.” In that instant, I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I never imagined that all my patience and endurance would only make them worse, escalating their twisted games. I slowly closed my eyes. My last thought before darkness consumed me was: When I wake up, I don’t want either of these two anymore. When I came to, the doctor told me the surgery had been too late. My hand would never fully recover, my piano career irrevocably over. And Donovan and Caleb, to maintain their charade, had been doting on Seraphina, never once coming to see me. I didn’t argue, didn’t cause a scene. I just quietly stayed in the hospital for a few days. The first thing I did after being discharged and returning home was contact a lawyer to draft divorce papers. Then, I started packing my belongings. I typed in my birthday as the password and opened the study door, a room Donovan and Caleb had always forbidden me from entering. What greeted me was a room filled with my photographs. On the walls, on the desk, even locked away in the cabinets – every single one was of me. Everyone said the Donovan and Caleb never loved me, but I knew the truth. Their love for me was terrifyingly, pathologically sick. My Grandpa Arthur and Donovan’s Grandpa Wallace had been close family friends. After my parents passed away, I was taken in by the Donovan’s family. When I first met Donovan, he was a teenager standing on the staircase, looking down at me, his eyes as cold as ice. I fell for him at first sight, chasing after him for years, but he never gave me a second glance. Even after Grandpa Wallace insisted he marry me, he remained distant and indifferent. It wasn’t until one day, when I accidentally stumbled into this study, that I discovered his deepest secret. This man, who was always so cold towards me, had fallen in love with me long ago. Distant during the day, he would secretly gaze at me at night, obsessively kissing my lips. And Caleb, our son, at just five years old, was already a spitting image of his father. He’d ignore me on the surface, but secretly collect every single strand of my hair. They loved me, but they pathologically craved my complete attention. For that, they deliberately acted cold, even hiring Seraphina, just to see me jealous, to see me hurt, and then to revel in their dark pleasure. I knew the truth, but I never exposed them. I thought if I was patient enough, one day I could cure their sickness. It wasn’t until that chilling “Save Seraphina first” in the hospital that I truly woke up. Some loves are just twisted, golden cages. I threw all my luggage into the trash, including the wedding ring I’d worn for five years. Just as I finished, a Bugatti slowly drove into the driveway. Donovan and Caleb were bringing Seraphina home. After they got out of the car, they ignored me as usual. Caleb’s little face was stern as he instructed the staff: “Aunt Seraphina just got out of the hospital; she hasn’t fully recovered. She’ll be staying here for a while.” “Go prepare the best guest room and decorate it to the standards of the lady of the house.” As they spoke, both father and son kept sneaking glances at me, hoping to see a jealous, heartbroken expression on my face. In the past, my heart would have twisted in agony. But now, I wouldn’t shed another tear for them. They didn’t get the reaction they expected, their faces slightly falling. But they simply assumed they weren’t acting convincingly enough, then quickly ushered Seraphina into the mansion, resuming their charade. Seraphina truly acted like she owned the place. One moment, she was critiquing the white roses outside the window: “These flowers are nice, but they don’t match the mansion. Red roses would be better.” Donovan immediately had my beloved white roses, which I had planted myself, dug up and replaced with glaring red ones. The next, she complained the curtains were too dark. Without a word, the father and son proceeded to completely redecorate the house I had so lovingly furnished, making it unrecognizable. I remained completely indifferent. Seraphina seemed a little uneasy: “I’m only staying a few days, and I’ve changed so much. Won’t Elara be angry?” Donovan said coolly, “Don’t concern yourself with her feelings.” At dinner, the staff served the meal. Donovan and Caleb doted on Seraphina, Donovan peeling shrimp for her, Caleb ladling soup, as if I were invisible. I was distracted, and after a mouthful of fish soup, I suddenly felt a large fish bone lodged in my throat! “Cough!” My face instantly changed, my breathing labored, my fingers desperately clutching my neck. Seeing my distress, Donovan and Caleb’s expressions instantly panicked, and they instinctively started to rush over. “Cough, cough, cough!” Seraphina suddenly clutched her throat too, her face contorted in pain: “I… I got a bone stuck too…” The father and son froze, their eyes conflicted. In the end, they chose to continue their act. Donovan helped Seraphina, patting her back and giving her water, while Caleb frantically called for the family doctor. My vision blurred. I tried everything to swallow the fish bone, but the sharp barb just lacerated my throat. “Pfft!” A mouthful of fresh blood spurted out, and I completely blacked out. When I next awoke, I heard Donovan and Caleb, their backs to me, coldly reprimanding the staff: “Who made this fish soup?! You almost killed my wife! All of you, get out!” I struggled to sit up, my voice hoarse: “There’s no need to fire them.” The father and son spun around. I looked at them, my eyes devoid of any emotion: “The ones who hurt me the most are those who stood by and watched me die. What responsibility can the staff bear?” Donovan’s face darkened instantly: “You have no say here! We’re not doing this for you, we’re doing it for Seraphina!” I closed my eyes, exhausted: “How long are you going to keep up this act?!” “What did you say?” They frowned, as if they hadn’t heard me clearly. I opened my mouth, about to speak, when the butler suddenly rushed in: “Sir, Ms. Seraphina is awake and asking for you.” Donovan and Caleb exchanged glances, then turned without hesitation: “You rest well. We’re going to take care of Seraphina.” With that, they left without another glance, heading straight for Seraphina’s room. Over the next few days, the father and son intensified their doting on Seraphina. Donovan personally fed her medicine, and Caleb stayed by her side, chatting incessantly. I knew they were putting on a show for me, but I no longer cared. Until Seraphina’s birthday party. The Donovan mansion was lavishly decorated, crystal chandeliers reflecting brilliant light, champagne towers stacked high. Guests murmured praise for the family’s lavish attention to Seraphina. “Mr. Donovan really dotes on Ms. Seraphina.” “Indeed. Mrs. Donovan has been married for so many years, and Mr. Donovan has never thrown her a birthday party.” “Even his own son only revolves around Seraphina. Mrs. Donovan is truly a failure…” The whispers of the crowd reached my ears, and I let out a self-deprecating laugh. Yes, I was a failure. Who would have thought this father and son, who supposedly loved me so fiercely, would choose to express it in such a way? In the center of the ballroom, Seraphina wore a haute couture gown, protected on either side by Donovan and Caleb, like a true lady of the house. They presented her with expensive gifts, accompanied her as she blew out candles and made a wish, yet their eyes kept darting towards me, hoping to catch a hint of jealousy or sadness on my face. But I simply sat quietly in a corner, my expression indifferent, as if none of it concerned me. Their faces grew increasingly grim. “Ms. Elara,” Seraphina suddenly chirped, her voice sweet, “What gift did you prepare for me?” I looked up: “Nothing.” Seraphina wasn’t offended. She pouted playfully: “How can my birthday be without a gift?” She feigned hurt: “Is it that you don’t welcome me here?” As she spoke, her gaze fell on the heirloom pendant around my neck, and her eyes lit up: “That pendant is so beautiful. Why don’t you give it to me as a birthday gift?” I frowned, instinctively covering the pendant: “No!” Seraphina’s eyes immediately welled up, and she looked to the father and son for help. “Take it off,” Donovan’s voice was as cold as ice. Caleb chimed in with a sneer: “It’s just a cheap pendant. If Aunt Seraphina likes it, just give it to her. Why be so stingy?” “This isn’t an ordinary pendant,” my voice began to tremble. Donovan stepped forward, pulling the chain with a harsh yank. The thin chain left a burning red mark on my neck. “Mrs. Donovan can’t even spare a simple pendant? We’ll just buy you a similar one later.” “No amount of similar ones will do!” My voice shook. “This is Grandpa Arthur’s last gift to me!” Donovan froze for a moment but quickly regained his cold composure: “The dead can’t be brought back to life. You need to let go of these old things to move on.” As he handed the pendant to Seraphina, I clearly saw his fingertips tremble slightly. Caleb chimed in: “Exactly, Mom is too fixated.” I completely broke down. Their acting, could it really go this far? Was their love truly just watching me suffer? I was about to step forward and snatch it back when Seraphina “accidentally” let her hand slip. “Smash!” The pendant fell heavily to the ground, shattering into several pieces. My pupils contracted, and I frantically knelt to pick them up: “What did you do?!” Seraphina feigned panic: “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I, I’ll help you fix it…” “Get lost!” I shoved her away, trembling as I gathered the fragments in my palm. The sharp edges of the broken jade dug deep into my skin, but it couldn’t compare to the pain in my heart. I turned to go back to my room, but Donovan blocked my way: “What kind of attitude is that? It’s just a pendant. If it’s broken, it’s broken. How can you push Seraphina?” I no longer wanted to say another word to them. I walked around them and headed straight upstairs. In my room, I tried to mend the pendant, but no matter how I pieced it together, the cracks were still clearly visible, just like my relationship with Donovan and Caleb – it could never be fully repaired. I took a deep breath, deciding to go out and find a professional artisan to restore it. Just as I opened the door, Seraphina stood outside, a triumphant smile on her lips: “Now you know how important I am, don’t you?” “Even your cherished heirloom, all it took was one word from me, and they snatched it for me, didn’t they?” She leaned closer, lowering her voice: “If you’re smart, you’ll step aside quickly.” I looked at her, so smug and overjoyed, and suddenly found it laughable. Did Donovan and Caleb know? The person they hired to act was growing this greedy. I looked at her coldly: “I think you’re the one who can’t see her place.” Seraphina’s face changed instantly: “What do you mean? Do you know something?” I was too tired to argue, pushing her aside to leave. But Seraphina suddenly grabbed my wrist: “Stop! Explain yourself!” “Let go!” I shook her off. I hadn’t used much force, yet Seraphina acted as if she’d been violently shoved, stumbling backward. “Ah!” With a scream, Seraphina tumbled down the stairs! The loud crash drew Donovan and Caleb. They rushed over, and Donovan immediately scooped up the collapsed Seraphina: “What happened?” Seraphina’s eyes were red, her voice choked: “I, I just wanted to apologize for the pendant… but she not only refused to accept it, she also cursed at me and told me to get out…” She sobbed, “She said she didn’t want to see me, and didn’t want you two near me…” Hearing this, a flicker of delight flashed in their eyes, their mouths unconsciously turning up, then quickly suppressed as they feigned seriousness. Donovan had the staff help Seraphina for a check-up, then turned to me, his voice cold: “These past few days, you’ve been quiet. I thought you’d finally learned to be magnanimous, but it was all an act.” “Since you dared to push Seraphina, you will pay the price.” He raised his hand and summoned the security guards: “Drag her to the third floor. Throw her down.” The words struck my heart like a heavy hammer. My eyes widened, my voice trembling, “Donovan! Are you insane? I didn’t push her! She fell herself!” “The third floor isn’t high,” he said indifferently. “It’s just to let you experience Seraphina’s pain, so you won’t make the same mistake again.” The security guards grabbed my arms. I struggled desperately, but it was useless. As I was dragged to the third floor, I screamed, “Donovan! Caleb! You’ll regret this!” “Thud!” When my body hit the marble ground of the courtyard, I heard the crisp snap of my bones. Excruciating pain instantly swept through me. Blood seeped from the corner of my mouth, and my vision began to blur. Through the haze, I saw Donovan and Caleb standing not far away. Under the light, a suppressed smile played on both their lips. “Dad,” Caleb whispered, “Mom is getting jealous for us again.” His eyes sparkled: “Mom really loves us so much, I’m so happy!” Donovan stroked his head, his voice soft: “Dad is happy too.” Listening to their conversation, my heart felt like it was being torn in two. My pain, their cruelty, was just a game to prove my love in their eyes. Darkness enveloped me like a tide, and I finally couldn’t hold on, completely losing consciousness. When I woke up again, the hospital’s harsh fluorescent lights stung my eyes. My whole body ached as if I’d been crushed, pain seeping from every bone. The nurse was changing my dressing. Seeing my eyes open, she quickly came closer: “You’re awake? How do you feel?” I struggled to move my lips, my throat as parched as if burned: “Who… brought me here?” “It was a father and son,” the nurse answered, adjusting my IV, her eyes filled with admiration. “Your husband and son, I presume? They’re so handsome.” She continued to chatter: “They were so frantic when they brought you in, they mobilized blood from all over the city, booked an entire floor, and stayed by your bedside all night.” My fingertips trembled. My heart felt gripped by an invisible hand. It was always like this. They clearly worried about me fiercely in secret, but on the surface, they insisted on acting indifferent. How ridiculous! “But what’s strange,” the nurse continued, “is that as soon as the doctor said you were about to wake up, they left in a hurry, heading to another patient’s room. Should I call them for you?” I closed my eyes, weary, and shook my head: “No, thank you.” I knew their games too well. They must have gone to Seraphina’s room to continue their act. Over the next few days, I took care of myself, quietly recovering from my injuries. On the day of my discharge, Mr. Sterling, the lawyer, brought the drafted divorce papers. I carefully read them over, confirmed everything was in order, and signed my name. Just as I finished the discharge procedures, I ran into Donovan and Caleb in the hospital corridor. They were helping Seraphina with her discharge. Father and son flanked her, Donovan even personally carrying her bag, and Caleb thoughtfully holding her jacket. I stood there, my fingers clutching the divorce papers. I took a deep breath, walked up to them, and handed the papers to Donovan: “Sign this.” Donovan frowned: “What is this?” Seraphina, beside him, immediately chirped: “It’s probably family signature required for discharge papers, right?” She tugged on Donovan’s sleeve, pouting playfully, “Donovan, just sign it. I feel a bit dizzy and want to go home and rest early.” Caleb also looked up, feigning concern: “Dad, please sign it quickly. Aunt Seraphina isn’t feeling well.” Donovan then took the pen, signed his name without even glancing at the contents. Then, he turned and left with Caleb and Seraphina, not giving me a single extra glance. I stood there, my heart feeling hollowed out, yet strangely, it no longer ached. I pulled out my phone and asked Mr. Sterling: “Both parties have signed. When can I get the divorce certificate?” The lawyer replied: “After the one-month cooling-off period is over.” I nodded, put the agreement in my bag, and turned to leave. Just as I walked out of the hospital, a stretched Rolls-Royce slowly pulled up in front of me. The window rolled down, and Seraphina poked her head out: “Ms. Elara, since we ran into each other, why don’t we go back together?” I said coldly: “No need.” Two almost inaudible coughs came from the back seat. Donovan and Caleb simultaneously frowned, their gazes involuntarily drifting towards me. Seraphina immediately got out of the car and grabbed my hand: “Don’t dwell on what happened last time. Although you pushed me, you also suffered punishment, so let’s put it behind us.” She said, then forcefully pulled me into the car. I knew this must be the father and son’s doing. They wanted to be with me but couldn’t say it directly, so they made Seraphina do it. How ironic and pathetic. The car started, and suffocating silence filled the cabin. Donovan personally poured Seraphina a glass of warm water, and Caleb attentively draped a jacket over her shoulders. Their actions were smooth and natural, yet their eyes kept glancing at me, as if hoping to catch a hint of jealousy or sadness on my face. But I just silently stared out the window, my eyes dead. The window glass reflected my pale face and their restless eyes. Suddenly… “Bang!” A loud crash, and the car violently shook! My head slammed hard against the front seatback. My vision instantly went black. In the split second before losing consciousness, I distinctly saw Donovan and Caleb both lunging towards me, their arms already halfway extended… But in the moment our eyes met, they sharply changed direction, firmly shielding Seraphina in their arms. My heart turned completely cold. The chauffeur quickly apologized. Donovan and Caleb anxiously checked Seraphina for injuries. Seraphina chirped: “I’m fine, thanks to you two protecting me.” Then, she suddenly gasped: “Oh no, Ms. Elara is badly hurt!” The father and son finally turned to look at me. Blood seeped from my forehead, and my arm had several cuts from shattered glass. I was a complete mess. The chauffeur quickly asked: “Should we go back to the hospital?” Donovan’s throat bobbed. His eyes struggled, but eventually he said coldly: “No need. Seraphina still needs to rest.” He looked at me, his tone indifferent: “Just go back and put some antiseptic on yourself.” Caleb echoed: “Yes, Mom… just take care of it yourself.” I didn’t speak, just slowly closed my eyes. I was too tired, so tired I couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. Back at the mansion, I endured the pain and disinfected my wounds. The moment the alcohol seeped into the cuts, my fingertips trembled, but I didn’t shed a single tear. For the next few days, I quietly recovered in my room. Until this day, I went out to throw away the trash. As soon as I tossed it in, a sharp pain shot through the back of my neck. In the last second before I passed out, I recognized the attacker’s face. It was one of Donovan’s enemies! When I opened my eyes again, I found myself in an abandoned factory. My entire body was tightly bound with thick ropes, rendering me immobile. What sent shivers down my spine was the bomb strapped to my waist. The countdown read: 3:00. Seraphina was also tied to a pillar opposite me, her exquisitely made-up face terrified and pale: “Wh-what’s going on?” I didn’t answer, lowering my head to try and struggle free from the ropes. But they were tied too tightly. After a few futile attempts, my wrists only hurt more. The countdown ticked away, second by second. 2:45. Just then, the factory door was violently kicked open! “Bang!” Blinding sunlight streamed in. I squinted, seeing two familiar figures rush inside. It was Donovan and Caleb! Their expressions were tense, their gazes quickly scanning the factory, finally locking onto me. Donovan’s pupils constricted abruptly, and he instinctively lunged towards me. “Donovan! Caleb!” Seraphina suddenly shrieked, her voice trembling, “I’m so scared…” The father and son’s steps abruptly halted. Donovan’s throat bobbed. His eyes struggled. Caleb also clenched his small fists, staring intently at me, seemingly trying hard to restrain something. Finally, Donovan closed his eyes for a moment, then turned and walked towards Seraphina. “We’ll save Seraphina first,” his voice was low, as if trying to convince himself. “Elara… you wait a little longer.” My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, hurting so much I could barely breathe. 0:30. I watched Donovan and Caleb quickly untie Seraphina, helping her to walk out. Seraphina leaned against Donovan, turning back to glance at me, a triumphant smile curving her lips. A shiver ran through me. 0:20. They really left. At this life-or-death moment, they still chose to keep up their act! I gritted my teeth, struggling desperately. The ropes finally loosened a bit. Enduring the excruciating pain, I slowly pulled my wrists out of the bindings. My skin was raw and bloody, but I couldn’t care less about the pain. 0:03. I finally broke free, stumbling out. But after only a few steps… “Boom!!!” A deafening explosion erupted behind me, and the massive shockwave sent me flying! I landed heavily on the ground, my back burning with pain, my ears ringing, my vision blurry. In a daze, I saw Donovan and Caleb rushing back, running towards me like madmen. Donovan’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse: “Elara!!” Caleb also cried out: “Mom!” I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t even have the strength to twitch my lips. I slowly closed my eyes, sinking into darkness. … When I next awoke, I was lying in a hospital bed, my entire body aching as if I’d been crushed. The nurse, seeing I was awake, quickly held me down: “Don’t move! You just had a kidney transplant; you can’t move around!” “Kidney transplant…?” My voice was hoarse. “Yes, you were injured by the bomb, and your kidney ruptured. Luckily, your husband didn’t hesitate to donate a kidney to you, and your son even gave you 800cc of blood.” My fingertips trembled. The nurse continued: “You truly have a good husband and a good son. They not only booked the entire floor for your recovery but also took turns watching over you for three days and three nights.” I closed my eyes, a sharp pain in my heart. They would rather donate a kidney, give blood, and watch over me, than say “I love you.” But thankfully, that kind of love, I no longer needed. … During my stay in the hospital, Donovan and Caleb never once came to see me. But strangely, I always felt someone secretly entering my room in the middle of the night. Sometimes, it was cool fingertips gently caressing my face. Sometimes, warm lips pressed against mine. And once, I even heard someone whispering softly in my ear… “Baby… get well soon.” That night, I once again felt someone approach. Warm breath caressed my neck, soft lips gently pressed against my earlobe. I suddenly opened my eyes! Donovan’s face was inches away. Our eyes met, and a flicker of panic crossed his face. “What are you doing?” I asked coldly. Donovan’s expression stiffened. The next second, he raised his hand. “Smack!” A chop to the side of my neck, and my vision went black. I passed out again. … A few days later, Donovan finally brought Caleb to “officially” visit me. “How are your injuries?” Donovan stood at the foot of the bed, his voice as cold as if he were asking a stranger. My gaze fell on his subtly trembling fingertips, and I suddenly laughed: “Have you been here these past few days?” Donovan’s pupils constricted abruptly, and his throat bobbed. He quickly turned his face away, his voice stiff: “No. We’ve been taking care of Seraphina. We just stopped by to pick up some medicine today and happened to check on you.” He finished speaking and turned to leave, his back rigid as if nailed to a board. Caleb, however, remained rooted, his small hand clutching his father’s coat, his eyes as red as a rabbit’s. “Donovan, Caleb.” I suddenly called out to them. Father and son turned around simultaneously, their movements so synchronized it was as if they had rehearsed it a thousand times. I looked at their similar faces, Donovan’s tense jawline, Caleb’s reddened eyes. I suddenly felt utterly exhausted, like I had traversed mountains and rivers, only to find the destination had vanished. I opened my mouth, wanting to say I knew they would sneak into my room every night and stay until dawn; wanting to say I could smell Donovan’s unique sandalwood scent; wanting to say I could hear Caleb’s muffled sobs hiding at the end of the hallway. But in the end, I just wearily closed my eyes. Forget it. I was tired. Too tired to even expose their ridiculous charade anymore. Since they loved proving their affection through pain, let them play their fill. Anyway, I was about to make my final exit. On the day of my discharge, it happened to be Grandpa Arthur’s memorial day. As I stepped out of the hospital, I saw Donovan’s car parked by the curb. The window rolled down, and Caleb poked his head out: “It’s Great-Grandpa’s memorial today. Dad and I will go with you.” I opened the car door, and coincidentally saw Seraphina’s smug smile in the back seat. My fingers dug into the flower wrapper as I silently got into the car. At the cemetery, the cold wind was bleak. A staff member walked over, respectfully saying: “Ms. Elara, your grandfather’s plot needs to be renewed.” Donovan immediately pulled out his card: “I’ll take care of it.” After he and Caleb left, Seraphina’s expression immediately changed. “Your grandfather’s been dead for so many years, and you still come to pay respects. What a waste of time,” she sneered. “An old geezer like that, does he deserve such a good plot?” I abruptly looked up, blood rising in my eyes: “Say that again!” “Did I say something wrong?” Seraphina smiled maliciously. “Thanks to the old man dying early, otherwise, seeing his granddaughter so lowly, shamelessly clinging to a man who doesn’t love her, he’d probably be brought back to life by anger!” “Slap!” A crisp slap echoed through the cemetery. Seraphina staggered backward, her head hitting the tombstone hard. Blood immediately trickled down her perfectly styled curly hair. “Elara!” Donovan and Caleb rushed over at the sound, just in time to see this scene. Seraphina immediately clutched her head, crying tragically: “Donovan… Ms. Elara is angry that you two have been taking care of me these past few days, even bringing me to pay respects to her grandfather. She got jealous and hit me. It’s my fault for not knowing my place; her anger is understandable…” The father and son exchanged glances, a subtle hint of pleasure flashing in their eyes. But quickly, Donovan’s face darkened. He looked at me, his eyes as cold as tempered ice: “Elara, what are you making a fuss about now!” Caleb also stiffened his small face, a mirror image of his father’s, but his voice carried a maturity unsuited for his age: “Mom, you hurt Aunt Seraphina. You must be punished.” With that, Donovan raised his hand and commanded the security guards: “Dig up the urn.” My pupils constricted sharply. All the blood in my body seemed to freeze instantly: “Donovan! How dare you!!” The security guards’ movements were incredibly fast. The sound of the shovel digging into the earth was particularly harsh in the silent cemetery. I rushed forward like a madwoman, but Donovan grabbed my wrist. “Whoosh!” The moment the urn was opened, a cold wind howled through, sweeping up the gray-white dust, scattering it everywhere. “What are you doing!” Donovan’s face changed instantly, his voice filled with unprecedented panic: “Who told you to scatter it?!” The security guard froze, his shovel clanging to the ground: “Sir… didn’t you mean to scatter it to ashes?” Time seemed to stand still. Donovan and Caleb both froze, identical looks of shock and regret appearing on their similar faces. I watched the ashes dance in the air, and in a daze, I seemed to see Grandpa Arthur’s kind smile dissipating in the wind. The grandpa who would carry me on his shoulders to pick peaches, the grandpa who was the first to stand up for me when I was wronged, the grandpa who still worried about my happiness on his deathbed… he had turned into a wisp of dust between heaven and earth. My heart felt squeezed by an invisible hand, hurting so much I could barely breathe. A sweet, metallic taste rose in my throat, and I suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood. My vision went black, and I collapsed in front of the cold tombstone. … In a daze, I felt myself floating in boundless darkness. I heard the deliberately hushed voices of the father and son, as if from far away. “Dad, did we go too far?” Caleb’s voice was clearly choked with tears. “Mom was so sad she even coughed up blood…” Immediately after, a pair of warm hands carefully held mine. Donovan’s voice was trembling uncontrollably: “Elara, I’m sorry… Wake up, I didn’t mean it… I never intended to scatter the ashes…” “Mom…” Caleb sobbed, his small hand gently caressing my cheek. “We just wanted to make you jealous… We love you…” Tears seeped from the corners of my eyes, silently soaking the pillowcase. They needed my pain to prove my concern, my tears to confirm my love. Behind every hurt, there was their twisted satisfaction. So, this was their love. To make me hurt, to make me cry, to make me wish I were dead, only then could it prove I cared. But that kind of love… I didn’t want it! I woke up at home to an empty mansion, only the staff busy downstairs. I opened my phone to check the time, but the screen was filled with news reports of Donovan and Caleb taking Seraphina to high-end restaurants and luxury stores. In every photo, Donovan had his arm around Seraphina’s waist, Caleb held her hand, the three of them smiling like a happy family. I expressionlessly scrolled past the news, my gaze falling on the date circled in red on the calendar. Three days left of the divorce cooling-off period. I was finally going to be free. … On the day of Donovan Corp’s anniversary celebration, I, as the nominal lady of the house, had no choice but to attend. The ballroom was magnificent, filled with clinking glasses and chatter. Seraphina wore a haute couture gown, clinging to Donovan’s arm, accepting compliments like a true hostess. “Mr. Donovan really dotes on Ms. Seraphina!” “Indeed, I heard the young master likes her too!” I stood in the corner, quietly drinking, as if none of it concerned me. Halfway through the banquet, the host announced the lottery drawing. The grand prize was: a wish granted by Mr. Donovan and young master Caleb, no matter what, they would fulfill it. The entire hall erupted in gasps, everyone excitedly waiting for the draw. “Congratulations, Ms. Seraphina wins the grand prize!” Seraphina covered her mouth in surprise, ascending the stage amidst applause. She took the microphone, shyly glancing at Donovan: “My wish is… I’d like to hear Caleb call me ‘Mom.’” The air instantly froze. Everyone’s gaze shifted back and forth between Seraphina and me. Caleb stood on stage, his small face tightly composed. He looked in my direction, a hint of anticipation and nervousness in his eyes, but when he saw my expressionless face, the corners of his mouth drooped slightly. “Mom!” He suddenly brightened, his voice clear and loud. Then he stood on tiptoes and kissed Seraphina’s cheek. The banquet hall erupted in enthusiastic applause and cheers. My fingers, clutching the wine glass, turned slightly white. In a daze, I remembered the first time Caleb called me “Mom.” He had just learned to speak then, a soft, sweet “Mom” that made me cry all night. The music for the opening dance began. Donovan walked directly to Seraphina, taking her hand. Whispers broke out around me: “Mr. Donovan didn’t invite Mrs. Donovan to the opening dance this year?” “It seems Ms. Seraphina is really going to take over!” “Definitely. Look, even the young master calls her ‘Mom’ now…” I sat in the corner, downing one glass after another. The alcohol burned my stomach, but it couldn’t warm my frozen heart. I don’t know how much I drank, but my vision started to blur. In a daze, a server came to assist me: “Madam, you’ve had too much to drink. I’ll escort you upstairs to rest.” I was helped into the top-floor suite and collapsed onto the bed. The server thoughtfully took off my shoes, closed the door, and left. When the door opened again, I was already drifting in and out of consciousness. Seraphina walked in on high heels, looking down at me: “Your son called me ‘Mom.’ How does that make you feel?” I kept my eyes closed, my voice hoarse: “…No feeling.” Seraphina sneered: “You really can endure, can’t you? Your heart must be bleeding, I imagine?” She bent down, whispering in my ear: “But you don’t have to worry. I’ve taken your son. Next, I’ll give you a child too.” A bad premonition seized me. I used all my strength to shake off the drunkenness and open my eyes! The next second, I saw a strange man push open the door. Seraphina quickly retreated, locking the door from the outside. “You… get lost!” I struggled to retreat, but the alcohol made my body weak. The man grinned menacingly and lunged forward, tearing at my clothes: “Don’t pretend, Mrs. Donovan. Your husband doesn’t even care about you. Why play the virtuous woman?” I fought back desperately, my nails savagely tearing at the man’s face. Seizing the moment he cried out in pain, I fumbled for my phone and shakily dialed Donovan’s number. Calling the police would be too late. I could only call Donovan; he was in this very hotel. Once, twice, thrice… The call remained unanswered. Ten times, twenty times… Even after the twenty-eighth call, there was only the cold busy signal. I was utterly desperate. Seeing my dress about to be torn, I frantically grabbed the vase from the table and smashed it hard on the man’s head! While he groaned on the floor in pain, I staggered towards the window and, without hesitation, jumped! “Ah!” I landed in the bushes below, my knees and arms covered in countless scratches from branches. But I ignored the pain, scrambling up and running forward. Until, at a corner, a familiar voice made me freeze. Caleb’s voice came: “Dad, Mom called so many times. Aren’t you going to answer? What if something happened to her?” Donovan stared at his phone screen, his eyes conflicted, finally saying coldly: “If I answered, she’d know we care a lot about her.” Caleb nodded: “Dad is right. Mom’s love for us isn’t deep enough yet; she only called 28 times.” He counted on his fingers: “She needs to call at least 99 times to prove she truly loves us.” I hid around the corner, listening to their conversation, my heart feeling like it was being torn apart. So… they were still testing my love. But for them, I had, long since, run out of love! I limped out of the hotel, hailed a cab, and went home. I rummaged through the first-aid kit, hastily treated my wounds, and then began packing my luggage. Tomorrow, the divorce cooling-off period would end. I could finally leave this hell for good. I finished packing my last suitcase and was about to pour a glass of water when breaking news on the TV hit me like a lightning bolt. “Piano virtuoso Seraphina wins International Piano Competition Gold Medal with original composition ‘Dirge’…” The glass in my hand shattered to pieces. On the screen, Seraphina stood on the podium, smiling sweetly as she gave an interview: “This piece took me three years to create. The inspiration came from my insights into life and love…” My entire body trembled. That was *my* composition! My personally composed, original score, which I hadn’t even had time to publish! How did it become Seraphina’s?! The sound of my room door opening interrupted my thoughts. Donovan walked in with Caleb and Seraphina, the three of them chatting and laughing, like a happy family of three. “What is this?” I pointed at the TV, my voice trembling uncontrollably, “Give me an explanation.” Donovan didn’t even glance at it, saying dismissively: “No need for an explanation. Seraphina liked it, so I gave it to her.” “That’s my original work!” I almost ground the words out through clenched teeth. “It’s given, it’s given,” Donovan frowned impatiently. “Anyway, your hand is ruined. From now on, just stay home and be a wife and mother.” Those words were like a sharp knife, piercing deeply into my heart. Yes, my hand was ruined… That day in the hospital, they chose to save Seraphina without hesitation, making me lose my ability to play the piano forever. Simply because they said: only if my hand was ruined, would I love them wholeheartedly. So… this was their love? To strip away my career, steal my creations, break my wings, just to imprison me forever in this gilded cage? I bit my lip fiercely until I tasted blood: “Donovan, Caleb, you will regret this!” “Those who trample on genuine feelings will face a reckoning!” Donovan’s face changed instantly: “What do you mean?” I didn’t answer, turning to my room and slamming the door shut. Outside the door, Seraphina’s sickly sweet voice came: “Donovan, Caleb, we’re going to the award ceremony tomorrow…” “Get lost!” Donovan threw her away, his eyes dark and menacing. “She’s not even here, why are you still pretending? The act is over, don’t be an eyesore here.” “I’m warning you,” Caleb’s voice was cold, unlike a child’s, “If Mom is unhappy, everything we’ve given you, we can take back.” Seraphina’s face turned pale. She meekly agreed, but a hint of malice flashed in her eyes. … The next morning, when I came downstairs, Donovan and Caleb immediately sat next to Seraphina. “Today we’re accompanying Seraphina to the award ceremony. You stay at home and don’t cause any trouble.” I calmly nodded: “Don’t worry. I won’t cause any trouble anymore.” The words were spoken so lightly, yet they sent an inexplicable tremor through Donovan’s heart. He instinctively wanted to say something, but Seraphina hooked his arm: “Donovan, we should leave.” After they left, I stood in the empty living room, taking a deep breath. I took out the documents I had prepared long ago and headed straight to the civic office. At the civic office, when the clerk handed me the divorce certificate, I didn’t even glance at it. Returning to what was once my home, I placed the divorce certificate on the living room coffee table. Before leaving, I took one last look around the mansion, my gaze sweeping over the dust-covered piano, the family photo hanging on the wall, and Caleb’s crooked drawings from when he was little by the entrance. Then, I turned and left, never looking back. At the backstage of the awards ceremony, Seraphina was adjusting her necklace in front of the mirror. The diamond pendant sparkled dazzlingly under the lights. Donovan stood by, his eyes cold and distant, yet his gaze involuntarily drifted towards the door, filled with anticipation. “Dad, do you think Mom will come?” Caleb suddenly asked, voicing Donovan’s unspoken question. Seraphina’s movement with the necklace froze. She walked over on her high heels. “Ms. Elara seemed very upset this morning. She should still come. Mr. Donovan, young master, that way you can see her jealous again.” Despite saying this, Donovan felt an inexplicable unease growing in his heart. He couldn’t help but pull out his phone and dial my number, only to hear a cold automated message. [Sorry, the number you dialed is currently unavailable…] My phone was off? Why? He was about to call again when a staff member approached, respectfully saying the awards ceremony was about to begin and asked them to take their seats. Donovan frowned slightly, finally putting away his phone. While Seraphina delivered her emotional acceptance speech on stage, Donovan was distracted. My unusual behavior this morning made him feel inexplicably irritated, as if something important was slipping through his fingers. “Dad, Mom didn’t come to make a scene out of jealousy. It’s boring. I want to go home,” Caleb suddenly whispered. Donovan looked down at his son, noticing a rare anxiety on the usually calm little face. He nodded, and without waiting for Seraphina to finish, he stood up and pulled Caleb out of the hall. “Donovan? Caleb? Where are you going?” Seraphina exclaimed from the stage, drawing everyone’s attention. Donovan strode away without looking back, Caleb trotting to keep up with his father. The black Rolls-Royce sped through the night. Donovan’s fingertips unconsciously tapped on his knee, Caleb’s lips were tightly pressed together. When the car lights illuminated the gates of the Donovan mansion, Donovan’s heart sank. The entire house was pitch black, not a single light on, something that had never happened before. I always left a light on, waiting for them to come home. Donovan practically rushed into the house. In the empty living room, a dark green little booklet on the coffee table was particularly glaring. This was… Divorce papers? What did this mean? I had divorced him?! He froze, his fingers trembling as he picked up the divorce certificate. “Dad…” Caleb’s voice was tearful, “Come quick, all of Mom’s things are gone…” Donovan spun around and dashed upstairs. The master bedroom door was wide open, the entire room so clean it was as if I had never been there. A sharp pain suddenly shot through Donovan’s chest. He leaned against the wall to steady himself. He was in so much pain, it felt like someone had literally ripped a piece of flesh from his body. “How could this be…” he murmured, “How could she divorce me and leave…” “Dad, it’s all your fault!” Caleb suddenly rushed in, his small fists fiercely pounding his father’s leg. “It was all your idea to test Mom! Now she doesn’t want us! What are we going to do? I want Mom, I want Mom!” Donovan looked down at his son’s tear-streaked face, unsure how to respond for the first time. “Donovan…” Seraphina’s voice came from the doorway. She was dragging her long dress, out of breath. “Why did you suddenly leave? What happened?” Donovan slowly turned, his eyes terrifyingly dark. Seraphina was startled by his gaze and stumbled back, forcing a smile: “Is Ms. Elara throwing another tantrum? She’s always like this, always…” “Shut up.” Donovan’s voice was low. “Who gave you permission to talk about her?” Seraphina’s face turned pale: “I, I just…” “Dad, make her leave!” Caleb suddenly shrieked. “It’s because we hired her that Mom left!” Donovan’s eyes completely turned cold. He pressed the intercom: “Someone, escort Ms. Seraphina out.” “What?” Seraphina’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Donovan, you can’t do this! We agreed…” Two security guards quickly appeared at the door, grabbing her arms. “Pack her things and throw them out too.” Donovan didn’t even look at her. “From now on, she’s not allowed within a foot of this house.” “Mr. Donovan! What did I do wrong…” Seraphina struggled and shrieked. “All this time, I’ve been cooperating with your act…” “Drag her out.” The security guards quickly covered Seraphina’s mouth and dragged her downstairs. Caleb rushed to the window, watching Seraphina being roughly shoved into a car and driven away, a twisted hint of glee on his small face. “Dad, let’s go find Mom,” he turned and grabbed his father’s coat, big tears streaming down his face. “We’ll apologize, tell her we love her. Mom will forgive us…” He mechanically pulled out his phone and dialed his assistant: “Immediately, right now, find Elara’s whereabouts. Use all connections, all resources, no matter the cost.” Hanging up the phone, Donovan slowly crouched down and hugged his sobbing son. His voice was hoarse beyond recognition: “We’ll find her… We will…” Outside the window, the evicted Seraphina stood outside the Donovan mansion gates, the tears in her eyes long since evaporated by hatred. She stared intensely at the brightly lit mansion, her fingernails digging deep into her palms. The curtains in the hotel suite were drawn. I sat cross-legged on the bed, the glow of my laptop reflecting on my pale face. On the screen was the folder I had just organized. My fingertips lightly glided across the touchpad, opening a photograph. It was the original manuscript of “Dirge,” the paper edges already yellowed, the date clearly visible in the bottom right corner. It was three years ago. In the photo, my hands were still perfectly intact, resting on the piano keys. “Enough,” I murmured softly, dragging the photo into the email attachment field. I also added a few audio recordings – conversations Seraphina had accidentally recorded on the home monitoring system while rummaging through my sheet music in the Donovan mansion. [Anyway, her hand is ruined, these pieces are just going to waste…] Seraphina’s shrill voice came from the speaker, laced with barely concealed greed. I expressionlessly clicked the send button. The email went simultaneously to five mainstream media outlets and to Mr. Sterling, my lawyer. Done with that, I closed my laptop and walked to the window, sharply pulling open the curtains. Sunlight poured in like a flood, making me squint. My phone vibrated. It was Mr. Sterling’s reply: [Sufficient evidence. Lawsuit submitted to court. Media will release news in three hours.] I put down my phone and started packing. I had booked a flight south for tonight. There was a small city there known for piano craftsmanship; perhaps I could find someone to repair my fingers. In my suitcase, besides essential clothes, I only packed two things: a small cloth pouch containing the shattered pieces of my heirloom pendant, and a stack of yellowed sheet music. Those were Grandpa Arthur’s last gifts to me. In Donovan Corp’s CEO office, Donovan stared at his computer screen, his face as grim as iron. The CFO stood before the desk, fine beads of sweat on his forehead. “All joint accounts unlinked?” Donovan’s voice was as cold as tempered ice. “Y-yes, Mr. Donovan.” The CFO handed over a document. “Mrs. Elara… no, Ms. Elara already processed all asset division procedures yesterday.” Donovan snatched the document, his gaze sweeping over the cold numbers and clauses. On the signature line of the last page, my handwriting was neatly precise, without a trace of hesitation. “And this…” The CFO carefully placed another notarized document. “Ms. Elara transferred all Donovan Corp shares under her name to the young master. The notarization is complete.” Donovan’s knuckles turned white. The paper crackled in his hand, protesting the pressure. He suddenly remembered something, abruptly standing up: “Get the car ready, I’m going home!” When Donovan rushed into the mansion garden, the gardener was squatting by the white rose bushes, lost in thought. The formerly blooming flowers had been dug up by the roots, leaving only ugly earthen pits. “Who did this?” Donovan’s voice startled the gardener. “It, it was Ms. Elara…” The gardener stammered. “Not long ago, she personally dug up all the white roses you planted for her…” Donovan’s chest felt like it had been punched hard. He mechanically pulled out his phone and dialed the private investigator: “Have you found her?” “Not yet…” The other person hesitated. “Ms. Elara is very cautious. She’s only using cash, and her hotel registrations are under fake names… But we found she contacted a few media outlets…” Donovan frowned deeply: “What media?” The sound of rustling paper came from the other end of the line: “Mainly entertainment and music magazines, seems to be related to Ms. Seraphina’s award-winning piece…” Before he could finish, a push notification popped up on Donovan’s computer. [Breaking News! Rising Pianist Seraphina’s Award-Winning Work Accused of Plagiarism, Original Composer Revealed to Be Donovan Corp’s Young Mistress!] The accompanying image was a photo of my “Dirge” manuscript, provided by me, side-by-side with Seraphina’s award-winning score. The similarity was over 90%. Donovan’s temples throbbed. Just then, the butler rushed in frantically: “Sir, young master Caleb is missing! Surveillance shows he took a taxi by himself from the mansion! He had previously installed a tracker on Ms. Elara’s phone; he seems to know where she is.” As raindrops began to pelt the windowpane, I had just finished packing. The weather forecast said heavy rain tonight. I hoped my flight wouldn’t be delayed. The doorbell suddenly rang, and my body stiffened. Only Mr. Sterling, the lawyer, knew my room number at this hotel, and our scheduled meeting was in two hours. Through the peephole, I saw an unexpected figure. Caleb stood outside, completely soaked, his small face indistinguishable between rain and tears. He was tightly clutching a teddy bear. It was the birthday gift I had given him last year. My fingers hovered over the doorknob, trembling slightly. Outside the door, Caleb started ringing the doorbell again, crying: “Mom… I know you’re in there… Please open the door…” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly stepped back. The doorbell and cries continued for nearly ten minutes, finally turning into desperate pounding. “Mom… I was wrong… I truly know I was wrong…” Caleb’s voice was already hoarse. “Dad and I shouldn’t have been mean to you… Please, give me another chance…” I leaned against the wall beside the door, my fingernails digging deep into my palms. I couldn’t be soft, couldn’t repeat the same mistakes. After what felt like an eternity, silence finally fell outside the door. I looked through the peephole again. Caleb was curled up outside my door, like an abandoned puppy. His school uniform was completely soaked, and the teddy bear lay dirty beside him. My tears finally fell, but I still didn’t open the door. Another half hour passed. The elevator chimed, followed by Donovan’s anxious shouts: “Caleb!” Through the peephole, I saw Donovan scoop up his semi-conscious son, his face showing a panic I had never witnessed before. His gaze suddenly fixed on my door, as if he could see through the thick wood directly into my eyes. “Elara…” His voice was hoarse beyond recognition. “I know you can hear me… I’m sorry, we were wrong. It was because we felt insecure that we kept testing your love. Seraphina was someone we hired; we don’t love her at all. We just used her to put on a show for you. We were wrong. We love you. Please open the door, okay?” I bit my lip fiercely until I tasted blood. Donovan stood outside the door for a long time. Finally, he left with a “You calm down first. I’ll take Caleb to the hospital, and then I’ll come back for you.” In the medical room of the Donovan mansion, the family doctor hooked Caleb up to an IV. “It’s just a cold and fever. He’ll be fine in a few days.” The doctor told Donovan, “However, the child’s emotions are very unstable. It’s best not to provoke him.” Donovan nodded. After the doctor left, he sat by his son’s bed, looking at the small face, so similar to his own, burning crimson. “Dad…” Caleb suddenly opened his eyes, his voice weak but exceptionally clear. “You lied to me.” Donovan started: “What?” “You said Mom would never leave us…” Caleb’s tears flowed down his temples into his hairline. “You said as long as we kept testing her, she’d love us more and more…” Donovan’s throat tightened. He couldn’t utter a word. “Now she doesn’t want us anymore…” Caleb’s voice suddenly rose, sharp with the typical intensity of a child. “It’s all your fault!” The medical room door was abruptly pushed open, and the old butler poked his head in, flustered: “Sir, bad news! Something’s happened at the company.” Donovan’s eyes instantly turned cold. He took one last look at his son, then turned and strode out. He had no choice but to deal with company matters first, but he didn’t expect that in just that short time, I would discard the tracker Caleb had installed on my phone, leave the city, and vanish without a trace! Three days had passed. Donovan had mobilized all his contacts, even reaching out to several old friends who preferred to stay out of the public eye, yet he still couldn’t find a single trace of me. I was like a drop of water, evaporated from the city where I had lived for ten years. The phone rang abruptly. Donovan practically lunged for his desk. “Did you find her?” he asked immediately. “Mr. Donovan, it’s the preschool…” The assistant’s voice was hesitant. “Young master Caleb had a bit of a situation at preschool…” When Donovan arrived at the preschool, he could hear Caleb’s heart-wrenching sobs from afar. The sound was like a dull knife, scraping at his eardrums. In the classroom, five-year-old Caleb was curled up in a corner, his small face streaked with tears, his expensive custom school uniform crumpled around him. Several teachers stood by helplessly, while at the other end of the classroom, a few children were pointing at Caleb and whispering. “What’s going on?” Donovan strode into the classroom, the coldness in his voice making the room temperature feel as if it had dropped several degrees. “Mr. Donovan…” The homeroom teacher nervously came forward. “Today in music class, they taught ‘My Good Mom,’ and Caleb suddenly…” “They said my mom doesn’t want me anymore!” Caleb abruptly looked up, his bloodshot eyes flashing with anger. “Dad, tell them it’s not true! Mom is just… just temporarily angry…” Donovan’s throat bobbed. He crouched down, wanting to hug his son, but Caleb forcefully pushed him away. “Say something!” Caleb’s voice was shrill and distorted. “You said Mom would never leave us!” The classroom was utterly silent. The whispering children were quickly pulled away by their parents, and the teachers discreetly withdrew. Donovan knelt on one knee, his expensive suit pants stained with dust, but he didn’t notice. “We will find Mom,” he tried to make his voice sound convincing, but even he couldn’t convince himself. Caleb suddenly lunged at him, his small fists raining blows on his chest: “It’s all your fault! It’s all because you kept testing Mom! Now she doesn’t want us! She hates us!” Donovan let his son vent, until the small hands ran out of strength and fell limply. He pulled Caleb into his embrace. The boy sobbed on his shoulder, warm tears soaking his shirt. “Let’s go home,” Donovan said softly, picking up his son and walking out. In the hallway, he vaguely heard parents whispering: “I heard Mrs. Donovan got a divorce… now she doesn’t even want her child…” Donovan’s eyes instantly darkened, scaring the person into immediate silence. He strode away, holding Caleb, his back as rigid as an iron slab. Half an hour later, at the Donovan mansion, Seraphina stood at the door, holding an umbrella. After her plagiarism was exposed, her reputation plummeted. With no other options, she had to seek Donovan’s help again. She shakily rang the doorbell. When the staff opened the door, she immediately put on a smile. “Mr. Donovan, I heard Caleb wasn’t feeling well at school?” She handed a meticulously prepared toy and snacks to the butler, her voice full of concern. “I specifically came to see him…” Donovan stood on the stairs, coldly looking down at her: “Get out.” Seraphina’s smile froze: “I just wanted to help…” “I don’t care how you got in, just get out now.” Donovan’s voice was terrifyingly calm. “I don’t need you anymore, do you understand?” Seraphina’s face turned pale, and she instinctively took a step back. She had never seen such a look in Donovan’s eyes. It was as if he was looking at a corpse. “I… I was just thinking that Ms. Elara left, so…” Her voice began to tremble. “Shut up.” Donovan’s voice was very soft, yet it sent a chilling cold through Seraphina. “From now on, if you dare to mention her name again, I will make sure you don’t see tomorrow’s sun. Do you understand?” Seraphina nodded frantically, her high heels catching on the threshold, almost making her fall. She stumbled towards her car, her heart pounding almost out of her chest. As night deepened, in the Donovan mansion, Donovan stood at the door of Caleb’s room, watching his son, who had finally fallen asleep. Even in his sleep, the boy was restless, tears still on his small face, clutching the dirty teddy bear tightly. Donovan quietly closed the door and walked to the study. On the desk, the child custody lawyer’s letter was still spread open, next to all the reports he had gathered about my whereabouts. All useless information. He pulled open a drawer and took out a photo album. It was full of my pictures, from when I first arrived at the Donovan house at eighteen, to a family gathering last year. His fingertips gently traced those smiling faces. He suddenly realized that in most of the photos, I was smiling alone, while he always stood far away, expressionless. A drop of water fell onto the album. Donovan paused, then realized they were his own tears. Outside the window, a bolt of lightning flashed across the night sky, illuminating his pale face. Thunder roared. Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away in another city, piano music flowed from a recording studio. I wore headphones, my fingers precisely adjusting parameters on the mixing console. After this period of treatment, my wrist, once wrapped in bandages, was now moving freely. Only upon close inspection could one see the small scars. “Third measure again, violin part a little softer,” I said into the microphone, my voice carrying through the glass to the band. The sound engineer handed me a cup of hot tea, unable to help but praise: “Ms. Elara, your ear is truly remarkable. I couldn’t even detect an issue in that segment.” I smiled and took the cup. The ring mark on my ring finger had faded to almost invisible. The studio’s logo sparkled on the cup’s surface—[Dirge Music]. This was the studio I had founded with funds from a secret investment five years ago. This money had always been kept in an unregistered account. Not even Donovan knew about it. During a break, my assistant hurried in: “Ms. Elara, the interview with ‘The Musician’ magazine is scheduled for 3 PM this afternoon. They want to focus on your new composition process…” “Tell them they can discuss composition, but not my personal life,” I interrupted, my fingertips unconsciously rubbing the scar on my inner wrist. The assistant hesitated: “But the editor-in-chief said… readers are very concerned about you and Donovan Corp…” My eyes suddenly turned cold: “Then cancel the interview.” “No, no, they promised to only talk about music!” The assistant quickly corrected himself, secretly regretting his slip. Everyone in the studio knew that this seemingly gentle boss never budged on matters of principle, and certain topics were strictly off-limits. The afternoon interview went unexpectedly smoothly, until, at the very end, the female reporter with round-rimmed glasses suddenly asked: “Ms. Elara, I heard you were once a concert pianist. Why did you switch to behind-the-scenes composition?” The recording studio instantly fell silent. I gazed at the pen swinging on the reporter’s chest, a limited-edition Montblanc. Donovan had once given me a similar one. “Because of an accident,” I answered calmly, slowly rolling up my shirt sleeve to reveal the hideous scar on my wrist. “My wrist was injured, and I missed the optimal time for treatment.” The reporter gasped, and the camera immediately zoomed in on the scar. I didn’t shy away; instead, I turned my wrist towards the camera: “Comminuted fracture. The doctor said that if I had had surgery two hours earlier, I could have recovered 80% of its function.” My voice was soft, yet it resounded clearly in the recording studio: “But at the time, someone decided to save another patient with minor injuries first.” The interview video was released at 8 PM that night. By 9 PM, it had already soared to the top of the trending topics. The title was shocking: [Breaking! Genius Pianist Elara Exposes Wrist Injury Inside Story: Donovan Corp CEO Delayed Treatment to Save Mistress.] Donovan Corp’s PR department was in chaos. The CEO’s office phone rang incessantly. Donovan stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, my close-up from the interview on his phone screen. The image of me calmly displaying my scar, my expression serene, made his heart grow cold. It wasn’t the Elara he remembered. The Elara who would be overjoyed by his single word, who would cry heartbrokenly over Caleb’s mere glance, was now like an ice sculpture in front of the camera, even her anger was controlled. “Mr. Donovan, the stock price has fallen seven points…” The CFO’s voice came over the phone. “The board of directors is demanding an emergency statement…” Donovan hung up and clicked on another furiously flashing message group. The group was wildly circulating a recording of Seraphina bragging at a party about how she “handled the Donovan father and son” with foul language. At the end of the recording, she boasted: [What’s “Dirge”? Mrs. Donovan’s entire life is just my stepping stone…] His eyes instantly turned cold. He made a call. “Give Seraphina a lesson.” Late at night, Seraphina left her apartment, still anxious about how to mitigate the negative impact of her plagiarism. She didn’t notice a black van silently trailing behind her. A screech of brakes ripped through the night, followed by a loud “bang.” Bystanders rushed over in a panic, only to see a car skewed against a barrier, all airbags deployed, Seraphina lying face down on the steering wheel, covered in blood. The next morning, Donovan was chairing a crisis management meeting when his secretary rushed in and whispered a few words. He announced a recess without changing his expression, only to smirk when he returned to his office: “It’s handled cleanly?” “Yes, Mr. Donovan,” the man in black said in a low voice. “The car was tampered with, but it won’t be fatal, just a lesson. The hospital has also been taken care of; she won’t remember the details.” Donovan nodded, his gaze falling on the latest issue of “Financial Weekly” on his desk. The cover featured a report on my studio. The accompanying photo showed me guiding young musicians, my profile appearing particularly soft yet resolute under the light. He had found me. But I, it seemed, no longer belonged to him. Rainwater streamed down the studio’s glass window. I stood at the mixing console, my fingertips gently tapping the desk in time with the melody in my headphones. Suddenly, a rapid knocking interrupted my work. “Ms. Elara, there’s a child at the front desk…” My assistant pushed open the door, her expression complex. “He says he’s your son.” My fingers paused in mid-air. I slowly took off my headphones. Through the half-open door, I saw Caleb, soaked through, standing at the front desk. His school uniform pants were muddied, and he was tightly clutching a rain-dampened homework notebook. “Let him in.” My voice was calm, devoid of discernible emotion. Caleb practically burst into the recording studio, his small frame looking particularly frail amidst the expensive equipment. He looked up, rain and tears mingling as they streamed down his face: “Mom… I finally found you. I got a perfect score on my test… Look…” He shakily opened his homework notebook. The handwriting inside was blurred by the rain, but the bright red “100” was still clearly visible. I remembered, I had once promised that if Caleb got a perfect score, I would take him to Disneyland. I took the homework notebook, my expression cold, “Why aren’t you at school?” “I… I snuck out…” Caleb suddenly knelt, his small hands desperately clutching my clothes. “Mom, please come back, okay? I promise I won’t ever bully you with Dad again! I’ll only listen to you from now on!” The recording studio was terrifyingly silent, save for the sound of rain hitting the window. I crouched down, meeting my son’s gaze, but I didn’t help him up. “Caleb, do you know why I had to leave?” Caleb frantically shook his head, big tears streaming down his face: “Because Dad and I were mean to you, even though we loved you, we still bullied you… But we really know we were wrong…” “No,” my voice was soft. “You still haven’t realized your mistake.” I took out a stack of photographs from a drawer and spread them on the floor— They were all the secretly taken images from the Donovan family study, and the photos of Caleb’s glass jars filled with my hair. “Healthy children don’t collect their mother’s hair. Normal husbands don’t monitor their wives’ every move,” I said, pointing towards the school roof dimly visible through the rainy curtain outside the window. “There’s a parent-child activity there today. I’ll take you to see what true love is.” The school activity room was filled with laughter and joy. I stood in the corner with Caleb, watching parents lift their children high, listening to their unreserved praise and encouragement. “Mom, that little girl fell down…” Caleb suddenly whispered. I looked at the little girl, about four years old, who had tumbled to the ground not far away. Her mother immediately crouched down, but didn’t rush to help her up: “Sweetheart, can you stand up by yourself? Mommy’s here waiting for you.” The little girl stopped crying and smiled, picking herself up and throwing herself into her mother’s outstretched arms. Caleb’s eyes were wide, and his small hand unconsciously tightened its grip on my fingers: “Her mom… isn’t worried she’ll run away?” “True love isn’t about restraint, it’s about trust. Like a kite, if the string is held too tightly, it will break.” Caleb nodded, seeming to understand, but his eyes gradually grew confused. Just then, the activity room door was violently pushed open. Donovan burst in, bringing with him a chilling aura. “Caleb!” His roar instantly silenced the entire room. Several children were startled and hid in their parents’ arms. Donovan strode over and grabbed Caleb’s wrist: “Who gave you permission to skip school?” Caleb stumbled from the yank, but then suddenly struggled: “I’m not going back! I want to be with Mom!” I let go of his hand. I chose to ignore Donovan and Caleb’s intense stares, turning to leave. In the car ride back, Caleb was huddled in the corner, softly sobbing. Donovan, recalling my indifferent gaze earlier, irritably loosened his tie. “What is it?” On the other end of the line, Mr. Sterling’s voice was filled with anxiety: “Mr. Donovan, bad news! Linwood Group just released information saying they have evidence of our illegal surveillance! The board of directors is demanding an emergency meeting!” Donovan’s knuckles turned white. Three days later, the entertainment world exploded. [Elara Posts Accusation: Former Husband Mentally Abused Her.] The article detailed Donovan’s years of pathological control over me, sending shockwaves across the internet! Late that night, I was working late at the studio. As I turned off the lights and prepared to leave, a strong smell of alcohol hit me. “Elara…” Donovan leaned against the doorframe, his tie loose, his eyes bloodshot. “…Are you satisfied now?” I said: “Please leave.” “I asked if you’re satisfied now!” Donovan suddenly erupted, punching the wall. My expression remained unchanged: “I merely brought the truth to light.” Donovan suddenly laughed, a sound more awful than crying: “What will it take for you to come back?” He staggered forward, trying to grab my hand: “What do you want? My life?” I took a step back, avoiding his touch: “Only on the day I die.” My voice was as light as a sigh, “After all, only dead things will belong to you forever, won’t they?” Donovan seemed stunned by my words. As he left, he turned back one last time to look at me, standing in the light. Rain lashed against the windows of the black car. I slowly awoke in the back seat. A dull ache throbbed at the back of my head, and my wrists were chafed raw by coarse ropes. I squinted, discerning the fleeting scenery outside through the rain. They were driving towards the winding mountain roads on the outskirts of the city. “Awake?” Donovan’s voice came from the front seat, laced with a pathological tenderness. “Go back to sleep for a bit; we’ll be there soon.” I didn’t make a sound, quietly wiggling my bound ankles. The car rounded a sharp bend, and familiar scenery flashed past— This was the road to the old Donovan estate. The mansion had been vacant for years, nestled deep within the dense woods halfway up the mountain. Three hours later, I was locked in an upstairs bedroom. Thick curtains blocked all light, only a sliver of light seeped in under the door. The lock turned, and Donovan walked in carrying a tray of food. He had changed clothes, his hair neatly combed, as if this weren’t an abduction, but some formal date. “Eat something.” He placed the tray by the bedside and reached out to touch my face, but I turned my head away. Donovan’s hand froze in mid-air, his eyes gradually darkening: “Do you have to be like this? We can clearly start over…” “Unlawful confinement is a criminal offense.” My voice was hoarse from dehydration. “If you let me go now, I can pretend nothing happened.” “Let you go?” Donovan suddenly burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the empty bedroom. “Let you live freely abroad?” He abruptly gripped my chin: “Listen closely. You belong only to me. For this entire life!” I looked directly into his frantic eyes, calmly saying: “Then you’ll only get a corpse.” Donovan’s eyes turned cold. He staggered back two steps: “Then we’ll die together.” I counted the minutes until silence completely fell outside the door. I struggled to move to the window, tearing open a corner of the curtain with my teeth—outside was a steep cliff, rainwater snaking across the glass like rivers. After an unknown amount of time, I was too weak to even get up. I refused all food and water, my lips cracked and bleeding. Sounds of an argument came from outside the door, and a childish voice was especially clear. “Dad! Are you crazy? Mom will die!” “Shut up! She doesn’t want you, and you’re still defending her?” “You were the one who tested her! You were the one who hurt her! I hate you!” After a struggle, the muffled thud of a heavy object falling. I struggled to crawl towards the door, hearing Caleb’s muffled sobs: “I’m calling the police… I’m going to save Mom…” “How dare you!” Donovan’s enraged roar rang out. My heart almost stopped. I used all my strength to crash into the bedside table. The shattering sound of a vase hitting the floor finally drew attention. The door was violently pushed open, and Caleb’s small figure rushed in. The boy’s left cheek was swollen and red, but his eyes widened the moment he saw me: “Mom!” Caleb shakily pulled out his phone: “I… I secretly called the police… they’ll be here any minute…” Donovan stood at the doorway, his face ashen, like a zombie. Police sirens grew louder, but he showed no intention of escaping. He just stared intently at me: “Why… why can’t you just love me…” I didn’t answer. Donovan offered no resistance, calmly extending his hands for the handcuffs. When the officer asked if I wanted to press charges, Donovan looked back at me, his gaze so unsettling that even the officer took a half-step back.
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