When Hazel woke again, it was already the next morning.

She slowly opened her eyes. A faint beeping sound from a nearby machine filled the silence, and the sharp, sterile scent of disinfectant told her she was in a hospital.

She tried to sit up, but pain exploded through her body--sharp, tearing pain, as if every bone had been shattered and stitched back together wrong. She let out a low groan and sank weakly against the pillow. Just then, a nurse came in.

"Mrs. Knight, you're awake?" The nurse's voice softened, relief flickering across her face.

"Why...why am I in a hospital?" Hazel's throat felt like sandpaper.

While carefully removing the needle from Hazel's hand, the nurse nodded. "The beach rescue team found you last night. They said you were floating about two hundred meters offshore. You were lucky--they got to you just in time." She hesitated, sighed, then added, "We identified you through your blood type and ID.

Mr. Knight--your husband--has already covered all the expenses. He told us to make sure you received the best care."

The nurse left.

Hazel stared blankly for a moment, her fingers curling tight around the blanket. So Rayan did know she'd been hurt. But he hadn't come. Not even once. Just a phone call, some money, and that was it. Did he even know what kind of terror she'd lived through?

Her phone suddenly buzzed on the bedside table. Hazel reached for it, unlocked the screen--and froze.

Olivia had posted a new photo on Instagram.

In the picture, Rayan was carrying her upstairs in his arms--like a scene from some romantic movie. You couldn't see his face, only his back, but Hazel knew that silhouette anywhere. After three years of marriage, she could recognize him by the way his shoulders moved. That was her husband. The man she'd once believed was hers.

The caption read:

"Twisted my ankle, and someone insisted on carrying me."

Below, the comments flooded in:

"So sweet!"

"Couple goals!"

"Perfect together!"

Hazel's hands trembled. Tears stung her eyes. While she'd been fighting for her life, her husband had been playing lover to another woman.

She wiped her tears away quickly. He wasn't worth it. Not a single drop.

Without hesitation, she called her friend. She didn't explain much--just asked her to prepare divorce papers. Her friend sounded shocked, but Hazel told her she'd explain everything tomorrow and hung up the phone.

****

At evening, Hazel was lying on the hospital bed when the door of the ward opened.

Rayan's assistant, Simon, walked in carrying a fruit basket. "Madam, how are you feeling."

He set it on the table, his tone polite, professional. "The doctor says your injuries are serious. You'll need a few days of rest before you're discharged."

Hazel turned her gaze away from him, her voice weak but steady. "Where's Rayan?"

Simon's smile faltered for a second, then he recovered. "The president knows you're awake." A brief pause. "But he said your decision to swim in a restricted area was highly irresponsible. He...said he doesn't have the patience for your games anymore."

The air in the room froze. Hazel's chest tightened; the pain flared up again.

Simon quickly added, "Please don't take it to heart, madam. The president has been very busy, but he still cares about your condition. He asked me to check that you were safe."

Hazel nodded lightly, her tone almost detached. "I understand. Thank you."

Simon hesitated, wanting to say more--but her expression stopped him. Then Hazel spoke again, her voice calm and faint. She handed him a sealed envelope.

"Give this to Rayan."

Simon blinked. "What is it?"

"He'll know when he opens it." Hazel closed her eyes, ending the conversation.

Simon looked uneasy, but he nodded and quietly left the room.

***

RK Empire Headquarters -- President's Office

Rayan glared at the divorce papers on his desk, his knuckles white. A second later, he slammed them onto the floor.

"How dare she?" His voice was low and dangerous, vibrating like thunder trapped in his chest.

He had just spent a fortune cleaning up that so-called "accident." The police report had stated: 'Mrs. Knight illegally entered a restricted area, violating safety regulations.' The prosecutor's office had even considered filing charges.

He'd paid, negotiated, and canceled a billion-dollar overseas contract to bury the scandal--

And now she'd sent him divorce papers?

His chest tightened, fury and humiliation burning together.

He reached for his phone--then saw it. Her number had been blocked.

Something inside him snapped.

"Fine, Hazel," he muttered, voice like a growl. He kicked his chair over and hurled the phone against the wall, shattering it.

The papers still lay on the floor--crisp, white, official. All it would take was his signature, and three years of marriage would be over.

Rayan Knight.

A man powerful enough to silence entire boards, to make corporate giants kneel--was now standing here, slapped in the face by his own wife. The woman he'd pulled from obscurity into the Knight family's world had been the first to say "enough."

The door opened. Simon stepped in carefully, carrying a cup of coffee. "Sir, your coffee."

Rayan didn't look at him. "She wants a divorce," he said, his tone glacial.

Simon froze. "Madam...she--?"

"I've read the police report," Rayan cut in. "That beach is restricted. She went there on her own. I cleaned up the mess for her, and now she blames me?"

"Sir, maybe Mrs. Foster was--"

"What? Kidnapped by a wave?" Rayan's laugh was sharp, cruel. "Olivia said she drove there alone. With sunscreen and a swimsuit. That's her 'kidnapping story'?"

Simon fell silent.

"She wants to play victim," Rayan said coldly, "then let her. I'll play along."

He took a long sip of coffee, his eyes darkening. "She thinks divorce will scare me. That I'll come running after her."

"Will you, sir?" Simon asked carefully.

"In her dreams." His voice dropped to a lethal calm. "She needs to learn where she stands."

Did Hazel really think she could survive without him? She had no skills, no experience--she'd be lost within a week. The thought only fueled his anger.

"Freeze all her credit cards," he ordered. "Let's see how long she can keep pretending."

Simon's throat tightened, but he nodded and left.

***

That night, when Hazel walked out from the bathroom, a message popped up on her phone.

Notification: Your credit card ending in **** has been frozen.

She stared at the screen and let out a bitter laugh. Of course. Rayan always moved fast. But if he thought she couldn't survive without him, he was wrong.

He never really knew her at all.

Fine. If he was so eager to cut her off, she'd make it easy for him.

She blocked his number, put her phone aside on the table, and lay on the bed, ready to have a goodnight sleep. Tomorrow is a big day and she need a lot of energy.

The next morning.

Hazel slipped into a bright red dress, she asked her friend to deliver before. The kind she hadn't worn in years. Rayan had never liked red. He'd been so controlling that if she didn't wear his preferred colors, he'd refuse to go out with her.

She couldn't believe she'd ever tolerated that.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Hazel saw something unfamiliar--a woman standing tall and elegant, wrapped in bold, blazing color. The fabric hugged her curves, the shade commanded attention. This--this was who she truly was. Daring.

Fierce. A woman unafraid to speak her mind.

She called a taxi and headed to RK Mansion.

This would be the last she would go to RK Mansion one last time--

--to end it all, on her own terms.

****

When the butler opened the door, the silver tray in his hands almost slipped. "Madam? You--"

"Not for much longer," Hazel interrupted calmly and walked past him.

The old man stared at her, stunned. The shy, compliant woman he once knew was gone. In her place stood someone composed, poised, and radiant with quiet confidence.

"Where's Rayan?" she asked softly.

"H-he's having breakfast," he stammered.

Hazel nodded and went upstairs to pack. When she came back down with her suitcase, Rayan was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine.

He didn't even look up. "Have you learned your lesson?" His voice was cool, indifferent. "I can forgive your recklessness this time, but don't repeat it. Go make me a cup of coffee. Once you've done that, I'll have your cards unfrozen."

Hazel's lips curved into a faint, mocking smile. So this was how little he thought of her. He truly believed she'd come crawling back to please him.

"Mr. Knight," she said evenly, "you've misunderstood. I'm not here to ask for forgiveness. I'm here to collect my things."

That got his attention. He looked up sharply, disbelief flashing across his face. Hazel met his gaze, her expression steady. "By the way, have you signed the papers? If you have, let's go to the civil court and get this over with properly."

For a long moment, the room was silent. Rayan simply stared at her, struggling to comprehend that the woman who once revolved around him was now walking away without hesitation.

When he finally lifted his head again, his expression hardened.

The woman standing before him was not the timid wife he remembered.

Her face was cold, her posture regal. The scarlet dress made her look like a rose in

full bloom--beautiful, proud, and armed with thorns.

Rayan's breath caught. For a fleeting instant, another image flashed in his mind--her.

The resemblance was uncanny.

But no. This wasn't Evelyn. Evelyn had only ever worn white.

He forced himself to regain composure, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Hazel Foster, that's enough nonsense! What makes you think you have the right to demand a divorce?"

Hazel's expression didn't change. "Mr. Knight, I'm not speaking nonsense. Marriage is built on mutual will. Love is a matter of choice. The law grants me the right to file for divorce--I don't need your permission."

Her tone was calm, but each word carried a quiet finality that made his stomach twist.

"And more importantly," she continued, voice steady, almost detached, "I'm tired. I'm tired of pretending to enjoy every restaurant you take me to, knowing they were her favorites, not mine. I'm tired of smiling at every piece of jewelry or dress you buy me, knowing they reflect her taste--not mine."

She drew in a deep breath, pain flickering in her eyes before she steadied herself again.

"But most of all," she said softly, "I'm tired of pretending not to notice how you close your eyes when you touch me--because you're thinking of someone else."

"Shut up!" Rayan roared, his authority flooding the room like a violent wave.

Hazel realized something in that moment--once she'd stopped loving him, she no longer feared him. The strength that had always been buried deep inside her finally surfaced. She looked at him, waiting.

"You think I didn't know?" he hissed, his blue eyes burning with rage and humiliation. "You knew from the start you were a replacement, didn't you? You knew who I loved, and still you married me. You chose to live in her shadow, to play her part--and now you have the nerve to talk about love? About divorce?"

"Yes," Hazel said simply. Then her voice turned cold. "Because I finally realized something--you'll never be worthy of love."

For a second, the air itself seemed to crackle. Hazel saw the red flare in his eyes--feral, violent--but then his fist loosened.

He let out a cold laugh. "You want to leave? Fine. You're not even worth being a replacement anymore."

Hazel's fingers tightened at her side, but she didn't look away. "Good," she said quietly. "Because I'm done being the ghost of your fantasy. Your love, Rayan, is a disease. No sane woman would want it. Except Olivia--she's just as sick as you are."

Rayan froze, fury surging through him like fire. "Shut your mouth! You don't deserve my love!" he shouted, lunging forward.

He grabbed her wrist and threw her down on the sofa. "You think I can't live without you? You really think I'd miss you?"

Hazel didn't flinch. Her eyes were sharp, defiant.

"Perfect," she said icily. "The courthouse is on your route to work. Let's go--it won't take long."

He clenched his jaw, the tension between them so thick it was suffocating.

Neither of them noticed the maid in the corner, watching quietly before slipping away to make a phone call.

After a long silence, Rayan sneered. "You think divorce is that simple? What about assets? Alimony?"

"I don't want anything," Hazel said firmly. "You don't have to worry about how I'll survive."

"You don't want anything?" His voice dripped with contempt. "Hazel Foster, do you even know yourself? You have no talent, no skill. Without me, you're nothing. Do you really think you can survive out there?"

So that's what he truly thought of her.

Hazel smiled faintly--a humorless, tired smile. "Mr. Knight, once we're divorced, we're strangers. My life or death has nothing to do with you. And honestly, I'd rather beg on the streets than live as someone's substitute."

Something flickered in his eyes--anger, maybe disbelief--but it struck right at his pride.

At that moment, the sharp click of heels echoed through the hallway.

Olivia appeared in the doorway, carrying a breakfast tray and wearing that practiced mask of innocence. Her voice was light and pleasant, but her eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

"Rayan, Hazel, what are you two talking about? I hope I'm not interrupting."

Hazel's lips twitched in disdain. "If I said you were, would you leave?"

Olivia froze for a split second. She hadn't expected Hazel to strike back--so bold, so unapologetically sharp.

Putting on her most pitiful expression, Olivia moved closer to Rayan and whispered tearfully, "Rayan, I swear I didn't mean to interrupt. It's just...I've been dreaming about Evelyn lately. She was crying so hard, saying you've stopped loving her. I couldn't sleep, so I came to check on you."

At the mention of Evelyn, Rayan's expression softened involuntarily. "You dreamed about her? What else did she say?"

Olivia bit her lip delicately. "She said you haven't changed--that you still love her.

Maybe...maybe it's just because it was her death anniversary a few days ago. She must really miss us."

Rayan's eyes dimmed. "Of course not. I'd never stop loving her. If you dream of Evelyn again, tell her yourself--I never changed."

Olivia let out a small, fake laugh through her tears. "Rayan, you're such a good man."

Hazel's stomach twisted with disgust as she looked at them. "Cut the act. You two seem to enjoy each other's company plenty. Who knows how many times you've used Evelyn's name as an excuse to sleep together?"

"Hazel!" Rayan's voice boomed like thunder. "Watch your mouth!"

"Fine," she said coldly, glancing at her watch. "Believe whatever you want. Can we finalize the divorce now? I don't have time to waste."

Olivia's smile faltered. If they got divorced, she could finally take Hazel's place--but Rayan still hadn't agreed. Panic flickered in her eyes.

"Rayan," she said softly, slipping into her peacemaker tone, "before she died, my sister's only wish was for you to be happy. Maybe...maybe you should forgive Hazel--for her sake?"

Hazel's temper flared. "Shut up, Olivia. My divorce has nothing to do with the dead. I don't need your pity."

Olivia's eyes glistened. "Rayan, why is she talking to me like that? Did I say something wrong?"

Rayan instinctively pulled her into his arms. "Don't be afraid. She's lost her mind--just ignore her."

That last sentence broke what little restraint Hazel had left.

Sensing victory, Olivia gave a small, smug smile. "Hazel, being like my sister was the best thing that ever happened to you. Otherwise, you'd never have become the lady of this house. You should be grateful."

Hazel let out a cold laugh. "Grateful? Olivia, do you want to take my place that badly? You've been coveting your brother-in-law for years."

"Enough!" Rayan roared, slamming his hand on the table. "You want a divorce so badly? Fine! Take whatever you want!"

Hazel's smile turned calm, almost triumphant. "You should've said that sooner."

Dragging her suitcase behind her, she walked straight out the door.

Rayan stormed after her, fury in his stride, while Olivia hurried to follow, feigning concern.

The Courthouse

Their number was called in the echoing hall of the civil court. Hazel turned to a young couple beside her and smiled politely. "Would you mind keeping an eye on my luggage for a minute? Thank you. I hope you two have a wonderful life together."

Dressed in a striking red dress, she looked so radiant that the clerk at the counter briefly mistook them for a couple coming to get married.

"May I see your IDs, please?" the clerk asked kindly. "We'll process your paperwork right away."

Hazel smiled faintly and handed over a folder--the divorce papers and her once-treasured marriage certificate.

"Thank you for your help."

The clerk blinked, momentarily confused. "You're...filing for divorce?"

"Yes," Hazel replied calmly. "I've already signed."

The clerk reviewed the documents, then looked at Rayan. "Mr. Knight, we just need your signature here."

Rayan's gaze lingered on Hazel's name for a long moment. Finally, he picked up the pen and signed with a firm hand.

"Miss Foster has chosen to leave without any financial claim," the clerk remarked, glancing between them. "Any objections?"

Rayan let out a bitter laugh. "No objections. Playing the saint again, Hazel? Pretending money means nothing--trying to be more like Evelyn? Let me tell you something--you'll never replace her."

Hazel's eyes stayed calm, but her tone turned razor-sharp. "Rayan Knight, wake up. I've repaid your so-called kindness a hundred times over these past three years. Your money means nothing to me--I make my own."

Then she turned to the stunned clerk. "Please finalize the paperwork. I'm in a hurry."

The woman blinked, then quickly stamped and sealed the documents.

When it was done, Hazel accepted the divorce decree with steady hands, her expression unreadable.

"Congratulations," the clerk murmured, handing it over.

Hazel said nothing. She turned and walked toward the exit.

Olivia's eyes gleamed with undisguised joy, but Hazel paused at the door, glancing back just once. A faint, knowing smile curved her lips.

"Don't get too excited, Miss Olivia," she said coldly. "Be careful--joy has a way of turning into sorrow when you least expect it."

Then she walked out of the courthouse, each click of her heels growing softer until it faded into silence.

Outside, she hailed a taxi, placed her suitcase in the trunk, and exhaled deeply.

Three years--finally over.

The woman who had once lived to please Rayan Knight was gone.

In her place stood a new Hazel Foster--one who no longer needed his love, his pity, or his name.

As the taxi drove away, the city stretched before her like a blank canvas waiting to be painted anew.

For the first time in years, Hazel smiled.

It wasn't a smile of love or hope--

It was the smile of freedom.

****

The Studio

Half an hour later, Hazel's taxi stopped in front of a studio--the one owned by her best friend, Elaina Williams.

At that moment, with nowhere else to go, Elaina was the only person Hazel could think of.

Dragging her suitcase, she walked inside.

As soon as she entered, Elaina spotted her. "Oh my God! Hazel!" she exclaimed, rushing forward to hug her tightly. "What a pleasant surprise!"

Hazel returned the embrace, a faint warmth touching her face for the first time that day.

Then Elaina's eyes fell on the suitcase. "Wait--did you run away from home?"

Hazel paused, then said quietly, "No. But I divorced Rayan and moved out of the RK mansion."

Elaina's face froze in shock. "You really got divorced?"

Hazel nodded. "Yes. I'm coming straight from the civil court."

She pulled the divorce certificate from her bag and placed it in Elaina's hands.

"The real deal," Hazel said with a faint smile. "So, Aina, can I stay with you for a few days? Just until I find a new place."

Seeing Elaina still processing the news, Hazel added gently, "If it's inconvenient, I can always check into a hotel."

"No, no, no--it's not inconvenient at all! You're most welcome!" Elaina said, grabbing the suitcase and dragging it inside. "Honestly, darling, I've been wanting to tell you to divorce him for ages. I never understood what you saw in that man! Besides looking decent, he's utterly useless!"

When it came to listing Rayan's flaws, Elaina's mouth turned into a machine gun.

Hazel sighed helplessly. "Aina, it's all in the past. Let's not bring it up again."

Elaina finally hit the brakes. "You're right. Once you've ditched a jerk, you've ditched him. I'll find you someone better!"

Hazel chuckled softly--she didn't even know what to say to that.

As they sat down, Elaina's expression turned more serious. "Hazel, now that you're free, you don't have to revolve around men anymore. How about a comeback? Let's team up again and build something big together."

Hazel raised a brow. "A comeback?"

Elaina sighed. "To be honest, I'm in a bit of a bind. Kathy--my most promising designer--got into serious trouble. If I can't find someone to take over her projects, I'll be sleeping on the streets!"

Hazel froze.

Before meeting Rayan, she had suffered an accident that caused memory loss. Elaina, who was leading a design team at the time, had found her barely conscious and arranged for her to recover while working as a design assistant.

Hazel's natural talent soon shone through--her designs caught attention across the industry. Later, when the company began exploiting its designers, she left and co-founded a studio with Elaina.

When she married Rayan, Hazel had transferred all her shares to Elaina. Over the years, her friend had built that small studio into a thriving business.

So why did Elaina suddenly sound so desperate?

Hazel frowned slightly. "What kind of trouble are we talking about?"

Elaina clenched her jaw. "Kathy offended that witch, Oliver Howard. Now RK Enterprises has blacklisted her--and by extension, me. They've canceled every contract. If I can't pay the penalties, I'm finished. Even selling the company won't cover the tens of millions owed!"

Hazel's eyes narrowed as Elaina continued, seething.

"Oliver's just a spoiled bully! Kathy got the design rights for a project she wanted, so she spread rumors that Kathy slept her way into it. Kathy snapped and slapped her, and of course, Oliver played the victim--crying her way straight to Rayan!"

"What a bitch!" Elaina slammed her fist against the table. "So what if she's got Rayan backing her? Acting like some rich-family designer--green-tea bitch!"

At the mention of Oliver's name, Hazel's pupils sharpened to ice.

Divorcing Rayan didn't mean she had to swallow this humiliation.

The score would be settled.

Everything Oliver had done to her would be repaid in full.

Watching Elaina's angry expression, Hazel gently patted her friend's hand.

"It's fine. Leave it to me. I'll handle it--today."

Elaina blinked. "Huh? Today? Baby, you're serious? You just got divorced--you should rest!"

Hazel smiled faintly. "I've actually designed quite a few new pieces over the years--different styles, all unreleased."

She pulled out her phone and sent several sketches to Elaina. "Take a look. See if any match the theme. If not, I'll conceptualize something new right away."

Elaina's jaw dropped as she scrolled through the sketches.

Even after all these years, Hazel Foster hadn't lost her touch--she had only gotten sharper.