Dylan probably thought my father's moves were just a small warning.

When his company's stock price started fluctuating abnormally, he was still fuming, convinced that I would soon calm down, come crawling back to him in tears, begging him not to abandon me and our child.

He was too arrogant.

And he had no idea just how much hatred a woman who had been completely shattered could unleash.

Dylan didn't get my surrender. Instead, he got a death knell.

Nora's doctor called, voice urgent. "Mr. Larson, Ms. Barton's condition has suddenly worsened! Conventional treatments aren't working anymore! We've urgently contacted an overseas institution. They have an experimental drug that might help, but we need to transfer 50 million immediately to airlift it here! Otherwise, Ms. Barton might not make it through the month."

50 million.

Dylan immediately called his CFO, ordering him to pull the funds from the company account.

The CFO's voice trembled on the other end. "Mr. Larson, we can't! Our major investors just withdrew their capital. All our accounts are under bank supervision now!"

Dylan's heart sank. A terrible premonition settled over him.

He tried tapping into his personal assets, only to find every bank account and line of credit frozen.

Before he could process it, his office door slammed open.

His PR director, face pale, rushed in and shoved a phone in his face.

"Mr. Larson, we have a major crisis!"

On the screen was the real-time trending topics.

"Dylan, CEO of Larson Group, accused of deceit and harming his wife."

A glaring red "breaking news" tag followed.

The top video showed a disheveled man sobbing into the camera, exposing how Dylan had paid him to mimic his mannerisms and sleep with his wife.

Below, crystal-clear bank transfer records and a detailed, dozens-page-long imitation manual were attached.

The evidence was irrefutable.

Dylan stared at the screen, mind blank.

The image he had maintained for eight years as the affectionate and genteel CEO was shattered in that instant.

He finally understood that Claudia wasn't throwing a tantrum.

She was executing a long-planned public execution.

The phone rang again.

The hospital's payment reminder call came through again, sounding like a death knell.

On his computer screen, an email popped up from the board of directors, demanding his immediate resignation.

Despair swallowed Dylan whole.

He frantically dialed my number, but the receiver only offered the cold, automated message. "The number you have dialed is powered off."

At the same time, I was lounging comfortably in the VIP bed of a private hospital room. The doctor had just finished a detailed prenatal checkup.

"Ms. Wallace, don't worry. Both you and the baby are perfectly healthy."

I thanked him with a smile and picked up my phone.

The screen showed dozens of missed calls and messages from Dylan.

The latest one, dripping with his trademark condescending command. "Claudia, I order you to pick up the phone!"

I looked at the words, a light chuckle escaping my lips. I didn't reply.

I waited until evening began to fall, then leisurely removed Dylan's number from the blocklist.

The phone rang almost instantly.

On the other end, Dylan's breathless voice came through.

I settled back against the soft hospital bed, gently stroking my stomach, and spoke softly into the phone. "Mr. Larson, you were looking for me?"

On the other end of the line, Dylan's voice held a panic I'd never heard before.

He didn't call me Claudia this time, instead pleading, "Claudia, please, let me explain. Nothing happened the way you think it did."

I let out a soft laugh, shifting to a more comfortable position.

"Oh? Then how do you think it should be, Mr. Larson?"

He rushed on, desperate. "Nora, she's truly pitiful. She was orphaned young. And her health has always been poor. I just wanted to help her. As for that beggar, I swear, I never intended to truly hurt you. I just... I cared too much. I was afraid you'd leave me."

What a pathetic excuse.

Caring too much about me meant sacrificing my career?

Pushing me into the arms of another man?

I wasn't going to waste any more time listening to his lies.

I cut him off, my voice calm. "Dylan, do you remember my treatment plan after the injury?"

He paused, clearly not expecting me to bring that up.

"Of course I do, Claudia. I chose the best for you. How could I bear to let you suffer?"

When I heard that, my smile turned colder.

"Is that so? Your so-called best was conservative treatment?"

I paused, then said slowly, "That experimental treatment abroad had a 70% success rate. You told me it was less than 10%. That the risks were far too high."

There was silence on the other end of the line.

I could imagine the look on his face now.

He thought no one would ever uncover this secret.

"How could you..."

He muttered in disbelief.

I didn't answer. I kept going.

"You said you didn't want me to take any more risks. That you couldn't bear to see me suffer even a little. So, you chose the safest conservative treatment for me. The cost was that I might never escape the wheelchair for the rest of my life."

With every word I said, I could hear his breathing getting heavier.

He tried to speak, but I stopped him cold.

"Are you afraid? Afraid that if I recovered, I would leave you and return to my world? So you need a quiet, disabled wife. A golden caged bird who can never escape your control. That way, you can feel safe while you're out there protecting your true love."

Finally, Dylan couldn't hold it in anymore. His voice cracked.

"Claudia, I'm sorry. I truly was wrong. I was blinded by my own foolishness. Please, forgive me just this once! I'll do anything! I'll go to Nora right now, cut all ties with her! I can give you all the company assets. Just come back to me."

I closed my eyes. The memories from eight years ago flooded back.

The night before the surgery, Dylan held my hand, his eyes full of love.

He said, "Claudia, trust me. Everything I did was for your own good."

And I believed him.

I gave up the only chance to stand on stage again.

And in return, I got eight years of being caged and a lie.

Now, could a single apology erase it all?

I slowly opened my eyes and spoke my final words into the receiver, my voice eerily calm. "Dylan, you destroyed my life. Now, it's my turn to destroy everything you have."

With that, I gave him no chance to speak further.

I hung up the phone and blocked his number again.

Outside the window, the night was deep and dark.

But in my world, the dawn had finally broken.

Dylan was driven to despair.

His company was falling apart, and all his assets were frozen.

He tried everything, but every path was blocked.

In the end, he put his last hope on my father.

On a dark rainy night, he fell to his knees outside the Wallace family villa.

He hadn't brought an umbrella, letting the icy rain drench him completely.

He probably thought this melodramatic display would soften my father's heart.

Dylan never understood my father.

My father was decisive and ruthless in business, not known for mercy.

Especially not when Dylan had hurt his most beloved daughter.

Elora stood under an umbrella, watching Dylan kneel on the ground coldly.

"Mr. Larson, Mr. Wallace said he doesn't want to see you."