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."

Inside a private lounge at the Jackson Group, Kaylee scrolled through her phone with predatory glee, a smug smile widening as she read the wave of mean comments directed at Olivia.

However, buried deep within the torrent of hate, a few discordant voices of suspicion regarding Kaylee's own story began to surface.

"Kaylee looks far too healthy to be terminally ill."

"I've spent twenty years in medicine, and I can tell you for a fact she doesn't exhibit a single symptom of a dying patient!"

Kaylee's heart momentarily stalled, but she breathed a sigh of relief as the doubts were swiftly buried by a fresh surge of insults aimed at Olivia.

She hurled her phone aside and delivered a stinging slap to her assistant's face. "You useless idiot! Go to a hospice and study the dying. If your 'sickly' makeup fails again, I will stop paying for your mother's hospital care."

The assistant's cheek bloomed into a painful red welt, yet she remained silent, keeping her gaze fixed on the floor in submission.

To the assistant, Kaylee was a clinical sociopath, a terrifying departure from the fragile, angelic persona she wore for the cameras.

The tension was broken by a sudden, firm knock echoing through the room.

Kaylee shot her assistant a murderous glare, silently commanding her to answer the door.

The moment Callum stepped inside, Kaylee's features melted into a mask of softness. Her eyes welled with practiced adoration as she offered a fragile smile.

"Callum," she breathed.

Callum's resolve crumbled at her sight. "The temperature is dropping. You need to be more careful and dress in layers."

Kaylee seized the moment, tucking herself into his embrace and locking her arms tightly around his waist.

A glint of smug satisfaction flashed in her eyes. In her mind, it was only a matter of time before everyone recognized that she and Callum were the real love story—and that Olivia, with all her plotting, was nothing more than a conniving, home-wrecking opportunist who had it coming.

She was hell-bent on stripping Olivia of every last scrap of her dignity and life.

Her ultimate trump card was the anonymous drug formula she had mysteriously acquired weeks ago.

She was the sole keeper of the secret. After finding no trace of the sender, she assumed the original creator had died during the drug's dangerous development.

In her mind, it was the perfect crime; the brilliant fruits of that research now belonged entirely to her.

...

Meanwhile, after twenty-four hours of observation, Olivia was finally cleared for discharge following Michael's medical approval.

Upon leaving the hospital, she proceeded directly to the research institute.

Peter's efficiency had been remarkable; the Beacon Project had officially re-launched, and a significant portion of the original research team had been successfully reconvened.

As the archival seals were broken and the research logs were unsealed, Olivia encountered a video of her parents weeping with joy following a major breakthrough. Overwhelmed by the footage, she found herself unable to contain her grief, and tears began to fall.

Peter's own expression softened with emotion as he offered a comforting pat on her shoulder. "Olivia, perhaps you should delay your start. You're still young, and there is no need to rush into this."

"No, I am ready," Olivia insisted, her voice wavering but her pale features set with a newfound, iron-clad resolve.

Fueled by her unwavering determination, the final preparations for the project's commencement proceeded without delay.

Over the following days, she remained entirely sequestered within the laboratory.

Michael, concerned by her relentless work ethic, eventually insisted that she at least take a break for a proper meal.

He secured a reservation at a local restaurant, and Olivia, unable to find a reason to decline his kindness, accepted the invitation.

As Michael was delayed, the waiter escorted Olivia to their reserved table ahead of his arrival.

Almost immediately after sitting down, she recognized a familiar voice emanating from the adjacent booth. Olivia stiffened, her gaze drawn instinctively toward the sound.

Through the partially translucent pattern of a decorative screen, she observed Callum and Kaylee seated closely together.

Callum, who typically maintained a distant and noble air, was behaving with uncharacteristic tenderness. His tailored suit jacket was draped over Kaylee's shoulders, and with his sleeves rolled back, he was carefully peeling shrimp for her with practiced ease.

For a man of his background, who had never concerned himself with domestic tasks, such a gesture was a visceral confirmation of his deep affection for Kaylee.

Olivia felt a sharp, agonizing sensation in her chest, as if she were suffering a physical wound.

Amidst her shock, her gaze eventually locked with Kaylee's.

Kaylee hesitated for a split second before a look of unmistakable triumph flickered across her features.

With a coy, flirtatious gesture, she turned toward Callum, opening her mouth to allow him to feed her.

The scene served as a bitter reminder for Olivia of the brief, joyous period immediately following her own marriage to Callum.

She recalled a time she had pleaded with Callum to join her at a seaside restaurant for dinner and the view; she had waited alone for over two hours before he finally decided to appear after his shift.

Despite the wait, she had been overcome with joy. With the timid enthusiasm of a newlywed, she had prepared a piece of lobster to feed him, only to be met with a gaze that remained detached and frigid.

"Stop behaving so childishly, Olivia," he had remarked coldly, refusing the gesture.

Now, as if needing visual confirmation of her own displacement, she watched him in a daze.

Callum hesitated for only a fraction of a second before personally offering the shrimp to Kaylee.

The intimacy of the gesture felt like a physical blow to Olivia's pride.

Her eyes clouded with bitterness, and a self-deprecating smirk touched her lips.

At that moment, Callum took note of Kaylee's distracted gaze and turned to see what had caught her attention.

Upon recognizing Olivia's silhouette, his brow furrowed in immediate irritation.

Given that she seldom ventured out, he had not anticipated encountering her at such a late hour.

The immediate suspicion that she had been tracking his movements crossed his mind.