Callum brushed the concern aside without a second thought.

He convinced himself that Olivia was just exhausted and moody from a bad night's sleep.

In his mind, Olivia was the picture of health, while Kaylee was the one who actually needed his protection and medical care.

Callum looked down, his jaw tightening in the silence before he stepped out of the vehicle.

"It's time," he said shortly.

He figured Olivia's resentment was only temporary. Once they remarried in a year, he planned to settle the score and give her whatever she wanted to make things right.

They walked into the courthouse in single file. Using his influence, Callum had arranged for them to skip the lines and receive immediate attention.

The moment they were seated, Olivia pulled a prepared divorce agreement from her bag and passed it across to the official.

Callum's face clouded with irritation, his palm slamming down on the documents to stop them. "What do you think you're doing?"

Olivia turned her head, meeting his gaze directly.

He looked every bit the aristocrat, carrying himself with a polished, distant grace that always made him stand out.

Even now, his looks were a weapon. She couldn't stop the involuntary skip of her heart; he was still the most handsome man she had ever seen.

She had walked down the aisle with a heart full of hope, believing they were building a life together. Now, she realized it had all been a shimmering, heartless lie.

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face. "This is how it works, Callum. We sign the papers, and the marriage ends. I'm just following the legal steps."

She acted as if a sudden thought had struck her. "Oh, that's right. You haven't added your signature yet."

She nudged his hand off the paper, flipped to the final page, and held out a pen. "I'm not asking for a settlement. I'm leaving with exactly what I brought in."

The atmosphere turned suffocating as Callum's temper began to flare, his eyes burning with a dark intensity.

Nothing infuriated him more than losing his grip on a situation. He ignored the pen, his voice dropping to a frigid tone. "If this is a play for more money or assets, stop hiding behind fine print and just name your price."

Her eyes were hollow, reflecting the quiet desperation of someone who had been pushed past their breaking point.

The constant agony had finally burned itself out, leaving behind a flat, manageable numbness where her heart used to be.

After a lifetime of devotion and giving him every part of herself, she was staggered to realize he still viewed her as nothing more than a gold-digger chasing the Jackson family's fortune.

The irony was bitter.

She pulled her hand away, her face a mask of calm. "There's no rush. Please, read every word so there are no misunderstandings."

The division of assets remained unchanged—she was walking away with zero. She had even inserted a new clause. "Every gift, every luxury, and even the wedding ring was to be returned to Callum Jackson's possession immediately."

A sudden, inexplicable jolt of panic hit Callum's chest. For a split second, he had the terrifying realization that she wasn't bluffing; she actually wanted out.

The mention of the ring was the hardest blow.

He knew she cherished it above everything else, and seeing her discard it so easily felt wrong.

But the feeling vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced by a familiar wave of annoyance.

He rationalized it all. The moodiness, the ready-made contract, the pressure to sign—he saw it as a desperate, calculated move of hers to see if he would cave.

He was convinced she was incapable of leaving him. In his eyes, this was just an elaborate performance designed to make him stay.

But he refused to play her game.

The memory of Kaylee's fragile, pleading face flashed in his mind, fueling his resolve. With a sharp ache of sympathy for Kaylee, he gripped the pen and scrawled his signature across the line.

His handwriting was bold and authoritative, a reflection of his need to dominate every situation.

Callum shoved the papers back toward her, his eyes burning with a dark, suppressed fury. "You played your hand too aggressively this time. Just make sure you can live with the consequences."

The bureaucracy moved with chilling efficiency. The clock began ticking on the mandatory waiting period before the marriage officially dissolved.

Without a word, Olivia rose and made her way toward the exit.

The absurdity of it hit her. She was literally dying, yet she was spending her remaining hours checking off legal boxes for a divorce.

She let out a dry, hollow laugh. The harsh midday sun sent a wave of vertigo through her, draining the last of the color from her skin as she raised a hand to block out the light.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over her. Callum stepped into her line of sight, his broad frame shielding her from the sun and providing a fleeting, accidental moment of relief.

Olivia felt a crushing weight in her chest, like a hammer blow to the heart, while a sharp sting of unshed tears burned behind her eyelids.

However, the painful reality remained... The man standing in front of her was no longer the sanctuary he once was.

She moved out of his way, her lips curving into a ghost of a smile. "Goodbye, Callum," she said softly.

A sudden memory flashed through Callum's mind. He could clearly see the day they got married, and Olivia's beaming face as she teased, "Hello, Callum! I'm your wife, Olivia!"

At that moment, their shared happiness had been absolute.

He felt a strange tug in his chest, a fleeting sensation that perhaps their bond was still intact.

Callum convinced himself that they would be remarried within the year anyway, so this separation was nothing more than a temporary shift.

"Since the paperwork is finished, you should go home," he said, turning his back to walk away.

Olivia gave a slow shake of her head. "I'm not going back there."

Callum's brow furrowed as he turned to look at her in confusion.

Olivia faced him with a level of composure he had never witnessed before. "I've already packed my essentials, so there's no reason to return. You can just toss the rest of my things. Now that the divorce is filed, we need to live separate lives. I'm not going to hang around and be an obstacle for you."

Callum dismissed her words, assuming this was just another one of her dramatic moods, so he didn't bother arguing.

He simply gave her a long, intense look. "Have it your way," he said.

In his mind, he and Olivia had decades of time ahead, whereas Kaylee was facing a terminal illness with only a year left; he believed Kaylee simply had the more urgent need for his presence.

They both turned away simultaneously, their paths finally diverging as they walked in completely different directions.

Olivia barely managed to flag down a taxi and haul herself into the back seat; the agony was so sharp and relentless that she instinctively curled into a ball, her breathing coming in ragged, desperate gasps.

At that same moment, Callum's black Cayenne surged past, its engine letting out a low roar as it disappeared into the thick of the traffic.

Settled behind the wheel, Callum was already focused on his call with Kaylee.

"It's over now. Don't carry any guilt—she and I made this decision together. I'm heading your way now, and I'll make sure to pick up your favorite bouquet."

Fighting a losing battle against the pain, Olivia used her fading strength to dial a familiar number, but the darkness claimed her before she could utter a single word.

Olivia felt as though she had been wandering through an endless, suffocating void for an eternity.

It was as if she had traversed jagged peaks and struggled through rising currents; the metallic, haunting scent of her own life force ebbed away.

Though her spirit was flagging and every muscle screamed for rest, a flicker of raw survival instinct kept pushing her forward, refusing to let her give in.

Centuries seemed to pass before the low murmur of voices reached her, accompanied by the sterile, clinical sting of disinfectant. Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open.

A blurred, towering silhouette began to take shape in her field of vision.

Driven by a deep-seated instinct, she breathed a single name into the quiet. "Callum..."

"Olivia!" The figure moved closer, and a soothingly cool palm settled against her brow.

As the fog finally cleared, the features of the man standing over her came into sharp focus.

The man wasn't Callum; instead, it was Michael Scott, her friend since childhood.

He had once been the undisputed star of their medical school, a brilliant mind who had half the female student body trailing in his wake.

Now, he stood as the head of hematology in an exclusive hospital, his handsome features framed by rimless glasses that lent him a sophisticated, scholarly charm.

The memories of the taxi ride flooded back, and a trace of bitter irony touched her lips. "So you saved me again."

The sound of her whispering Callum's name still echoed in Michael's mind, sending a sharp, familiar pang of hurt through his chest.

For over ten years, he had carried a silent crush on her, well aware that Callum held a permanent, untouchable lease on her heart. Letting out a weary sigh, he retrieved her phone and handed it back to Olivia.

"I've reviewed your complete lab results. It's grimmer than we anticipated—you're at risk of burning it out at any second. Do you want me to call Callum?"

Olivia pushed herself up against the headboard, her movements slow but determined. She gave a faint shake of her head, her voice eerily steady. "We're going through a divorce."

Michael went completely still.

"He's marrying Kaylee," she added flatly.

The device tumbled from Michael's hand onto the mattress. The revelation hit him like a physical blow, leaving him reeling.

Olivia met his eyes with a faint, ironic smile.

"Kaylee's claim is that she's terminal with only a year left. Her final request was to have Callum by her side, and he didn't hesitate to say yes."

"That absolute bastard!" Michael hissed, his hands curling into tight fists. "You're on the same clock! How can he just walk away from his wife for someone else?"

He pivoted, intent on tracking Callum down for a reckoning.

Olivia caught his arm. "Michael, honestly, I feel a sense of relief. At least I won't die under the delusion that he ever actually loved me. Imagine how pathetic it would be to meet my parents in the afterlife still holding onto a lie."

She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with a momentary warmth that reminded him of the woman she used to be—vibrant, happy, and untouched by tragedy.

If only that one moment in time hadn't shattered everything.

Michael fought back tears, forcing a professional mask into place. "I'm starting your admission paperwork."

"Don't bother," she countered. "We both know this is incurable. I'm not spending my final year in a sterile room. I have work to do. Just keep this between us—no one else can know. My time is too valuable to waste on drama."

Recognizing her stubborn resolve, Michael gave a pained nod. He insisted on a twenty-four-hour observation period and ordered a nurse to start her on fresh IV nutritional fluids.

As the fluids slowly entered her system, Olivia reached out to Peter Ford, the director at the Oasis Research Institute, to initiate the revival of the Beacon project.

The Beacon project was her parents' legacy, a mission they had poured everything into before their lives were cut short in a tragic accident halfway through its development.

Without their leadership, the remaining team couldn't sustain the initiative, and the project was shelved indefinitely.

Olivia had been paralyzed by grief for years, unable to face the work her parents left behind or the crushing realization that finishing the Beacon project was their ultimate final wish.

The weight of her inaction felt like a betrayal.

"Olivia, I'm thrilled you're ready to bring the Beacon project back to life—it's a ray of hope for so many blood disease patients," Peter said, his voice thick with worry. "You have my full backing, but that drug trial you just finished was brutal on your system. You need at least six months of rest and regular monitoring. The project isn't going anywhere; we can wait until you're healthy."

A hollow smile touched her lips. Time was the one luxury she no longer possessed.

The physical toll was irreversible; even the most brilliant medical minds couldn't pull her back from the edge now.

"I appreciate the concern, Peter, but there's no time for that. Let's get things going as soon as possible. I'll be there tomorrow morning."

Following a long beat of hesitation, Peter finally gave in.

Olivia let out a shaky breath as she ended the call, only for a sharp irritation to seize her throat. She yanked the IV from her vein and stumbled to the bathroom, barely making it to the sink before coughing up a spray of crimson.

She frantically scrubbed the basin, her heart hammering with the fear that Michael would find the evidence and force her to stay bedridden in the hospital.

Once the sink was spotless, she headed for the door to summon a nurse for the IV. Her footsteps stopped cold when a live news broadcast caught her eye on the hallway monitor.

The screen showed a swarm of reporters outside the Jackson Group's R&D facility, all clamoring around Kaylee.

Callum stood tall at her side, his powerful silhouette commanding the attention of everyone in the frame.

A swarm of reporters jostled for position, shouting over one another to get a comment.

"Miss Taylor!" one reporter called out. "Rumor has it you played a major role in a new Jackson Group drug. Can you tell us what it is?"

The claim that Kaylee had developed a breakthrough for the Jackson Group caught Olivia completely off guard.

Stunned by the news, Olivia froze and turned her attention toward the broadcast.

On the screen, Kaylee beamed a perfect, sugary smile directly into the lens.

"I'm afraid that's a corporate secret," Kaylee replied. "I can't share any details at this stage."

Out of nowhere, a reporter raised their voice and asked, "Miss Taylor, there are claims that the research behind this new drug was highly dangerous. It's being said that you've sustained permanent damage to your body and are now facing a terminal illness, with just one year left to live. Can you confirm if that's true?"

Kaylee's expression shifted instantly at the mention of her health.

After a brief pause, she lifted her gaze toward the camera. The smile remained, though now it carried a trace of bitterness.

"That's correct. But I refuse to let it defeat me. With the time I have left, I'll commit myself to one final research endeavor and give everything I have to see it through before I'm gone. Whatever remains of my life will be devoted entirely to the pursuit of science."

Her staged performance of selfless sacrifice immediately won over the entire crowd.

The reporters was suddenly buzzing with intense sympathy and admiration for her.

"And what about Mr. Jackson?" a reporter pressed. "People saw him carrying you home and buying you roses. Is there a romance blooming?"

Kaylee let a visible blush creep across her face. "Mr. Jackson and I are just colleagues. He's only looking after me because of my work for the company."

Despite her denial, her coy act and blushing face made everyone in the room certain that there was something more between them.

The crowd of journalists immediately devolved into frantic, low-voiced gossiping.

"What a tragedy! It's so obvious that Miss Taylor is head-over-heels for Mr. Jackson."

"And Mr. Jackson clearly feels the same way. Honestly, they look like a perfect match."

As the whispers intensified, Kaylee looked down, a spark of triumph dancing in her eyes. When she looked back up, her face was once again a mask of wide-eyed innocence as she rushed to explain. "Please, don't spread rumors. Mr. Jackson is married to my mentor, Olivia. She funded my entire college education and even secured my position at Jackson Group. It is only because of her kindness that I could join this new drug research team."

While speaking, she shot an apologetic glance at Callum, acting as though she had accidentally let a devastating secret slip.

"I would never be a home wrecker," she continued. "Knowing Mr. Jackson is a blessing. Whatever I have sacrificed for this project, I did so out of my own free will."

Her defense to the rumors was a calculated strike, dragging Olivia directly into the center of a public firestorm.

A reporter quickly picked up on the crucial detail and pressed, "So, it was Olivia who arranged for you to join Jackson Group for this research? If I may ask, before sending you to work on the new drug project, did she make you aware of the risks involved?"

The question set the crowd on fire as everyone suddenly connected the dots.

"Wait, didn't Olivia retire to be a housewife? She set this whole thing up before she left?"

"Isn't Olivia's behavior downright ruthless? She put on a facade of kindness, using minor acts of generosity to lure Kaylee into working for her, all while she stepped away to enjoy an easy life. As a professor, how could she possibly have been unaware of the risks involved in that research?"

Before the cameras, Kaylee's eyes turned red, as though the weight of the truth had only just hit her. She wavered, nearly losing her footing, and then managed to steady herself long enough to speak one last time. "Creating this new drug has always been Mr. Jackson's greatest ambition. Even though I've only now come to understand that the risks in its development led to my terminal condition, I have no regrets."

The live comment section became a toxic storm of hatred and vitriol.

"So Olivia kept her in the dark!"

"Olivia is a monster!"

"She needs to pay for what she did!"

Kaylee made a theatrical exit, claiming she was too weak to continue.

Throughout the entire character assassination, Callum remained perfectly, hauntingly silent, never once defending his wife.

Olivia stared at the screen, a suffocating tightness crushing her chest as the reality of the betrayal hit home.

She was stunned by the staggering coincidence. Kaylee, mirroring Olivia's own tragic history, had developed a terminal condition while working on pharmaceutical research for the Jackson Group.

Despite the lack of specific details regarding the project Kaylee had been assigned to, Olivia's thoughts immediately drifted toward the proprietary formula she herself had submitted to the company.

A dark, unsettling suspicion began to take root in her mind.

Driven by a need for clarity, she drafted a message and hit send. "Investigate the specific drug Kaylee was developing. I need the exact details."