Louise gritted her teeth. "Shut up, just follow the instructions on this paper. Don’t worry about anything else. After it's done, I’ll pay you."

The conversation ended there, and I quickly stepped back into the elevator, waiting for a while before I felt it was safe to exit.

When I reached the door of the ward, I heard Vincent’s voice.

"Louise, what’s going on with your heart? How did this happen?"

Louise’s face was pale, and she weakly replied, "I’m not sure. Dr. Beckham said that since they can’t figure out the cause, maybe it’s because of what my sister did..."

She stopped mid-sentence, suddenly clutching her mouth in horror, her eyes wide open. "No... it’s impossible. My sister wouldn’t do this to me."

Vincent looked at her with a pained expression, frowning deeply. He quickly pulled her into his arms and comforted, "It’s okay, I’ll be here with you."

Watching the two of them so affectionate, I couldn’t help but sneer inwardly.

"Excuse me, ma'am, are you here to visit?" A nurse’s voice interrupted my thoughts, breaking the intimate moment between them in the ward.

"What are you doing here?" Vincent turned to me, his eyes full of gloom.

"I came to deliver a document to you," I replied flatly.

Upon hearing this, Vincent frowned. "What document would you need to bring in person? And at such an inappropriate time?"

I knew he’d say that, so I took out the document I had already prepared and handed it to him. "It'she project that Louise wanted. Your assistant couldn’t find you, so he sent it to the house."

"He said the contract needs to be finalized today, or it will cause more trouble later. So, he asked me to bring it."

"Since you don’t want to sign it, I’ll just tear it up for you."

I pretended to rip the contract, but Louise was even more anxious than Vincent. She almost jumped out of bed to snatch the document from my hands, but Vincent quickly held her back.

"Sister, please, don’t tear it up! This project is something I’ve been following for a long time, and I’ve worked hard for it to help Vince."

Louise’s eyes reddened, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. "As long as you don’t tear up the contract, I’ll do anything. Even if you send me abroad again..."

"Sierra!" Vincent’s face darkened with rage as he glared at me. "Give it to me. I’ll sign it."

I walked over and handed him the divorce agreement along with the contract. Vincent, too absorbed in coaxing Louise, didn’t even look at the contract carefully.

"Now, get out, and don’t dirty Louise’s eyes by staying here."

Finally, with the divorce agreement in my hands, I breathed a sigh of relief. "You should’ve signed it sooner."

After I left with the signed document, I had a runner deliver the contract to Vincent’s assistant.

Earlier, I had met his assistant at the villa’s door, and knowing Vincent might refuse to sign, I decided to use the contract as a cover.

With the divorce agreement in hand, I returned to the hotel and booked a flight for tomorrow.

Later that night, my phone buzzed with a message from Louise.

It was a video. The lighting was dim, and there was a suggestive sound of water flowing. I furrowed my brows, feeling disgusted.

I was about to close the video when I heard Louise’s voice.

"Vince, I want to have a baby with you. Is that okay?"

"Of course, Louise, any child you have will be as kind and cute as you."

"But, sister, she’s been trying to do IVF with you, hasn’t she?"

Vincent scoffed. "She’ll never be able to carry my child."

"Why?" Louise asked, sounding curious.

Without hesitation, Vincent replied, "Because her eggs either go down the drain or get fertilized by stray dogs on the street."

"So, Louise, you don't need to worry," he added.

The sound abruptly stopped, and the video ended.

A new message from Louise popped up.

[Did you see that? Vince doesn't love you at all. I suggest you give up while you still can.]

[Don’t keep holding onto something that isn’t yours. By the way, even though I’m not really pregnant, you will die tomorrow for sure.]

I turned off my phone, dismissing her messages as nothing more than an attempt to gloat.

After all, once tomorrow is over, nothing in Los Angeles will matter to me.

I used to love Vincent to the point of madness, giving him my heart, only to end up with this result.

Thinking about it now just seems ridiculous.

The next morning, at the crack of dawn, I was woken by the ringing of my phone. I had intended to turn it off, but accidentally answered.

Soon, Vincent’s voice, full of anger and restraint, came through. "Sierra, you must come to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center immediately. If you’re not here within ten minutes, there will be consequences."

The next second, the line went dead with a busy tone.

I glanced at the time—it was 5:06 AM.

I turned over and went back to sleep.

A few minutes later, the phone rang again.

I impatiently answered the call. "You—"

"Sierra, where are you? I came back to the villa but didn’t find you. Where did you go?" Vincent’s tone was a bit softer this time.

Rubbing my groggy head, I asked, "What do you need?"

Vincent hesitated for a moment before suppressing his anger, "Sierra, stop throwing a tantrum. Hurry and come back."

At that moment, I remembered the last message Louise had sent me.

On the other end of the line, Vincent sounded like he wouldn’t give up until he saw me.

"Sierra, if you show up within half an hour, I’ll agree to anything you want."

"Where are you now? I can come pick you up."

"I also bought the ring you love so much, and I’ve got a little cake for you. You know how much you like strawberry cake, right?"

"And I bought those spicy grilled shrimp you like—"

I couldn’t help but interrupt his little performance, speaking coldly, "Vincent, you’re trying to kill me."

"Sierra!" Vincent raised his voice suddenly, then seemed to relent, lowering it to a softer tone. "You’re my wife. How could I harm you?"

"Stop messing around and just come home. I’ve prepared—"

"Vincent, I’m allergic to seafood. Don’t you know that?" I scoffed. "We’ve known each other for five years, been together for three, and you still don’t remember I’m allergic to seafood? Is this what you call loving me?"

Vincent fell silent. He wanted to say otherwise, but an inexplicable sense of panic started rising within him.

It felt like something was about to slip away.

I couldn’t be bothered to continue this conversation and was about to hang up when I suddenly heard Vincent speak again. "Sierra, are you coming back or not? Your sister needs a blood transfusion urgently. You need to come and save her."

"Is it really just a blood transfusion?" I asked sharply.

There was a long silence on the other end. I couldn’t help but sneer inwardly.

If I hadn’t overheard Louise discussing with Dr. Beckham her plan to take my heart, I would have naively gone there by now.

Vincent had no compassion for me—his heart was entirely set on Louise.

I sneered, "Vincent, you really are… despicable."

Sierra hung up the phone and quickly packed her bags, preparing to leave the hotel. Knowing Vincent for years, she was certain that with Louise attempting to swap her heart—and Vincent’s deep attachment to her—he would not let this go easily.

Sure enough, just three minutes after she left, Vincent’s Maybach pulled up in front of the hotel. He strode inside, questioning the front desk, and upon learning that Sierra had already checked out, he began calling her furiously.

His messages came in rapid succession, each one more demanding than the last.

Meanwhile, Sierra sat in the back of a taxi, watching the endless stream of calls and texts flood her screen. A cold smile curled at the corner of her lips.

'Vincent, let’s see just how far you’ll go for Louise,' she thought.

The calls went unanswered, and the messages received no reply. Sitting in his car, Vincent slammed his fist against the steering wheel in frustration. He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with unsteady hands. Just as he took a couple of puffs, his phone rang.

A flicker of relief crossed his face—so fleeting it was almost imperceptible. Without checking the caller ID, he answered it.

"Sierra, I’m telling you now, come back immediately, or I might reconsider not divorcing you—"

"Vince, it’s me..."

"Louise?" Vincent frowned as he glanced at the screen. "Why are you calling me? Aren’t you in the ICU?"

Louise’s voice came through weakly. "Vince, is Sierra refusing to come back?"

"It’s fine, Vince. My only wish in this life is to marry you, but Sis... she..."

"Don’t say anything. I’m coming to the hospital now. As for Sierra, I’ll find her." Vincent soothed her gently.

"But... it seems like my sister is heading towards the airport." Louise slyly dropped the hint.

With that information, Vincent quickly ended the call, then rushed to his car, heading straight for the airport.

When he arrived, he frantically searched the terminal, phone in hand, dialing Sierra’s number over and over. But this time, instead of the endless ringing, an automated voice responded:

"Hello, the number you dialed is no longer in service..."

He froze. Unwilling to believe it, he redialed—only to hear the same cold message again.

Gritting his teeth, he turned and rushed to the airport’s broadcast station, instructing them to page her. After that, he called his assistant, ordering an immediate investigation.

But there was no trace of Sierra.

By the time Vincent arrived at the hospital, a dazed look shadowed his face. He spotted Louise, perfectly fine, walking around the hallway.

"Louise? You’re okay?!"

At the sound of his voice, she quickly turned and put on a bright smile. "Vince, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?"

Vincent lowered his gaze, masking the turmoil in his eyes. "Louise, your heart..."

At the mention of her condition, a flicker of panic crossed Louise’s face but she immediately tried to compose her face. She hesitated before responding. "Just now, my mom found a doll in the room where Sierra used to stay. It had a needle stuck in it. After she pulled it out, I suddenly felt much better."

Her voice was soft, almost hesitant.

"Vince, why hasn’t Sierra come back with you? Is she still angry with me?"

At that moment, the television in the hospital lobby switched to a breaking news segment.

"Reports confirm a plane crash involving Flight MX952."

The words sent a chill down Vincent’s spine.

A second later, his phone rang. It was his assistant.

"Mr. Milton, we’ve confirmed that Ms. Sierra boarded Flight MX952."