Rose laughed happily while pointing to Ronda's plastered right hand. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, that hand was once called the 'Hand of God,' but now? I bet you even struggle to hold a spoon. Ronda, what's the point of your fighting? The only reason Greg married you was that your hands could bring profit to the hospital. Now that you're useless, do you think he'll keep you? You are a washed-up woman now."

"Rose, you'll pay for what you have done," Ronda said, each word with anguish.

"Really? Fine," Rose snorted coldly. She suddenly changed her expression. She grabbed the fruit knife from the table, shoved it into Ronda's hand, forcefully held her hand, and aimed the knife at her own arm.

"What are you doing?" Ronda was shocked and tried to pull her hand back, but Rose's grip was astonishingly strong.

"What am I doing? Of course... I'm helping you out." Rose gave a sinister smile as she applied force. "Hiss—"

Blood gushed out instantly and stained the white sleeve red.

Rose immediately let out a piercing scream. She fell backward and knocked over the chair. Then she lay trembling on the floor. "Help! Help! Ronda, no... I'm sorry. Please don't kill me..."

The door was flung open.

Greg rushed in. His pupils constricted sharply at the scene.

Rose was sprawled on the floor, her arm covered in blood. Her face was streaked with tears, and she pointed fearfully at the bed.

Meanwhile, Ronda stood frozen, holding the bloodstained fruit knife in mid-air.

"Ronda, have you lost your mind?" Greg roared.

He kicked the knife out of Ronda's hand and then got down on his knee to cradle Rose in his arms. He said with concern, "Rose, are you okay? Don't be afraid. I'm here."

"Greg... it hurts... I just came to apologize to Ronda... I didn't expect her to suddenly grab the knife..."

Rose curled up in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably. She was trembling like a leaf in the wind. "Am I going to die..."

"Don't say that. With me here, no one can hurt you." Greg lifted his head sharply and looked at Ronda as if she were a heinous criminal. His gaze was filled with rage and murderous intent. "Ronda, have you lost your humanity? Rose came with good intentions, and you attacked her with a knife?"

Ronda looked at the undisguised hatred in his eyes and suddenly laughed out loud.

Tears streamed down her face.

"Greg, if you're not blind, you'd see who the knife handle is pointing at. You can see the direction of the force."

"You are still denying it."

Greg stood up with Rose in his arms. He towered over Ronda like a judge. "I saw it with my own eyes. Is that not enough? Rose wouldn't even dare kill a chicken. How could she possibly harm herself? But you are jealous and heartless. Ronda, it seems losing your right hand wasn't enough to teach you a lesson. Do you want to end up in jail?"

"I want to end up in jail?" Ronda propped herself up on the bed. Her face was ghostly pale, but her voice was clear. "Greg, do you even know what I've just been through? My baby is gone. You killed your baby. I don't even have the strength to hold a knife. How could I hurt her?"

"My baby?" Greg sneered. His eyes were full of disdain. "The obstetrics department did send a report saying you had a curettage. But Ronda, who was the father? I haven't touched you for months. How could you get pregnant?"

Ronda's mind went blank at that moment.

She couldn't believe her ears. "What did you say?"

"I said, don't try to pin that unknown illegitimate baby on me." Greg's words were like daggers. "In an attempt to win me back, you pretended to be injured. Now, you're faking pregnancy and resorting to finding another guy? Ronda, you disgust me."

"Last month on the third..." Ronda tried to explain. He was drunk that day.

"I was drunk that day. I don't remember anything. You may take advantage of me, or you just made it all up."

Greg interrupted her impatiently. He turned to gently console Rose in his arms. "Rose, let's go. I get you bandaged. Such a vicious woman isn't worth your tears."

At the door, he paused. With his back to Ronda, he said, "Given your deliberate harm to Rose, I'll have the legal department involved. Also, you're relieved of your duties as head of neurosurgery. Stay here and reflect for the next few days. Once Rose forgives you, you can get out of the hospital."

Ronda was confined to the hospital room, cut off from all contact with the outside world.

The meals brought by the caregivers were cold. The nurses changing her bandages were unfamiliar. They were all rough, and each time they ripped off the gauze, it felt like tearing at her skin.

But none of this was the worst pain.

The deepest pain came from the television in her room. It was forcibly locked onto the hospital's internal channel. It repeatedly played the video where Greg attended a press conference.

On screen, Greg was dressed in a sharp suit, looking confident and triumphant.

Beside him stood Rose. Her arm was wrapped in exaggerated bandages, but she was smiling weakly yet resolutely.

"Here, on behalf of the hospital, I announce that the former Neurology Chief, Ronda Lambert, is unable to continue her duties due to physical and psychological reasons. Plus, she is suspected of serious allegations of academic fraud and violations of medical ethics. The administration has decided to terminate her employment. Now, we will appoint the returning elite, Ms. Rose Lloyd, as the acting chief of neurology. She will take over Ronda's team and work on the unfinished project about 'Brain Nerve Regeneration'..."

Ronda stared at the screen intensely. Her nails were digging into her palm.

Academic fraud? Violations of medical ethics?

For ten years, she had dedicated countless sleepless nights pouring her heart and soul into that project. Every set of data was painstakingly gathered over hundreds of hours under the microscope.

The project was her hope to contend for the Nobel Prize and to cure countless paralyzed patients.

It was her life.

Greg, in an effort to please Rose, not only stripped her of her position but also handed over her life's work on a silver platter and even sought to slander her with an irremovable stain.

"Greg... how could you be so utterly merciless..." Ronda trembled all over. She grabbed the water cup from her bedside and hurled it at the television screen.

"Bang!"

Water splashed everywhere, and Greg's deceitful face shattered into fragments. Yet the nauseating sound continued to play.

Just then, the door was pushed open.

Several men in black suits entered, led by Greg's assistant, Richard Norris, who was holding a document in his hand.

"Ms. Lambert, Greg asks you to sign these documents." Richard handed them to her expressionlessly.

Ronda glanced at them. They were a patent transfer agreement and a divorce agreement."

The patent transfer agreement stated that she was willing to transfer all naming and patent rights of the "Brain Nerve Regeneration" project to Rose for free.

And on the divorce agreement, the clause on asset division glared up at her: she was to leave with nothing.

The reasons were that she cheated on him and had an illegitimate child and that she had criminal behavior of intentional harm.

"I want to see Greg." Ronda threw the documents onto the floor and said with a hoarse voice, "Tell him to speak to me himself. I'll sign only over my dead body."

Richard bent down to pick up the documents. He patted off dust and said in a tone carrying a hint of pity but mostly disdain, "He is very busy and has no time to see you. He says if you don't sign them, he wouldn't mind handing the evidence of you cheating on him over to the media. Then, your reputation will be ruined, and you will face massive breach penalties and imprisonment."

"The evidence of my cheating on him? I never do that," Ronda shouted.

"Greg says you did, so you did," Richard said coldly. "Besides, Rose's injury assessment results are out. It is a medically classified severe injury. With just one word from Greg, you could be arrested by the police right now."

Ronda collapsed onto the bed and felt utterly cold.

In this city, Greg held absolute power.

It was as easy as squashing an ant for him to crush her.

"Tell him I'll sign them."

Ronda closed her eyes. Tears fell down her cheeks. "But I have one condition. I want to see him one last time, as I have something to return to him in person."

Richard hesitated for a moment before dialing Greg's number.

Half an hour later, Greg arrived.

He seemed to have just come from a celebration banquet, carrying a faint scent of alcohol and perfume, which Rose often used.

"So? Have you thought it through?" Greg loosened his tie as he sat on the sofa. He cast a disdainful glance at Ronda. "It would have been better if you had done this earlier, instead of making things ugly for everyone."

Ronda propped herself up with her left hand with difficultly and took a small black velvet box from under the pillow.

She had planned to give him the gift for their tenth wedding anniversary.

It was a cufflink she bought with her first surgery bonus. Though it was not expensive, it bore his initials.

She had originally planned to tell him about her pregnancy that day.

Now, everything felt like a cruel joke.

"Greg, how many years have we known each other?" Ronda asked softly.

"Fifteen years." Greg glanced impatiently at his watch. "If you're trying to play the emotional card, save it. I have a strict sense of purity. I won't take back a woman touched by another guy."

A knife seemed to have been plunged into her heart, leaving her numb with pain.

"Fifteen years... So you think I am so dirty?"

She opened the box, took out the cufflink, and rubbed it in her palm. "In these fifteen years, I've protected you from disputes with difficult patients, stayed up late organizing data for you, and given up my dream of advancing my career at the best university for you... Greg, did you ever love me, even for a second?"

Greg looked at her pale face and felt a sudden flash of irritation.

He stood up and looked down at her. "Did I love you? Ronda, don't think too highly of yourself. I married you because my grandpa liked you and because you were obedient and useful. But that doesn't mean you can hurt Rose recklessly or betray me."

"Betray you..." Ronda let out a sad laugh. It grew louder until it turned into a violent cough.

She suddenly raised her hand and hurled the cufflink at Greg's face.

The cufflink hit his forehead, leaving a red mark.

Then it fell to the floor and rolled into a corner.

"Greg, you're the real idiot for not seeing the truth." Ronda's eyes reddened as she pointed at the door. "Take your agreements and get out. Even if I end up in hell, I don't want any ties with you anymore."

Greg touched his forehead. There was blood on his finger. His expression turned utterly dark.

"Fine." He laughed out of anger. Then he took out a pen from his pocket and slammed it on the table. "Ronda, this is the path you chose. From now on, in Cyburris and in the medical world, you don't expect to find opportunities."

Ronda's left hand trembled as she picked up the pen.

Writing with her left hand was difficult. The words were crooked, as if she were drawing symbols.

But she pressed hard. The pen tore the paper and sliced through the fifteen years of time and absurdity.

With the final stroke, she seemed to have exhausted all her strength.

"Take them." She turned her head away and refused to look at him.

Greg stared at the glaring signatures. But he didn't feel as pleased as he had anticipated. Instead, panic and emptiness rose within him.

Something important seemed to be stripped away from his life.

He frowned and suppressed the odd feeling.

"You brought this on yourself." He coldly tossed the words, picked up the agreements, and left.

At the door, he suddenly stopped and looked back.

On the hospital bed, the woman who once followed him everywhere, whose eyes were always filled with him, now looked like a broken doll, lifeless.

"When your hand... Forget it." Greg hesitated and ultimately steeled himself and walked away.

He had intended to say that once her hand healed, he might arrange a back-office job for her if she admitted her mistakes.

But he hadn't thought that once her heart died, she would never come back again.