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.

After Greg left, the hospital room fell silent.

It felt like a grave.

Ronda pulled the needle out of the back of her hand. Blood gushed out, yet she felt no pain.

She got out of bed and touched the cold floor with her bare feet. She walked towards the window step by step.

It was the 16th floor.

The bustling traffic and flickering neon lights below displayed the most vibrant night view of Cyburris.

Just days ago, she was at the pinnacle of the bustling city, admired by all as Greg's wife.

But she had nothing now.

Her hand was ruined, her baby was gone, and her reputation was destroyed.

She even lost her home.

Suddenly, the phone, abandoned in the corner, started vibrating.

Ronda ignored it.

The vibration persisted for a long time. Then it stopped and started again, like an unrelenting pestering.

Ronda hesitated. But she eventually walked over and picked it up.

An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen.

She answered it, and an elderly yet authoritative voice came through. "Is that Ronda?"

Ronda froze.

It sounded like... her mentor, the country's neurosurgery expert, Professor Kenneth Rogers, who had strongly opposed her marriage to Greg back then.

"Professor..." Ronda's tears flowed freely, like a river unleashed.

"Ronda, I've noticed the news." Kenneth's voice was filled with suppressed anger and concern. "That brat, Greg, has gone too far. Don't be afraid. As long as I breathe, I won't let them mistreat you this way."

"Professor, I... I've let you down..." Ronda sobbed and collapsed to the floor. "My hand is ruined... I can't perform surgery anymore..."

"Nonsense!" Kenneth's voice thundered. "I knew you when you were a little girl. You are more resilient than anyone else. As long as there's some nerve function remaining, there's hope. Even if it can't be treated here, we'll go abroad. Remember, your hands are meant to save others, not to serve guys. Greg is not worthy."

"But... I've signed..."

"What did you sign? A patent transfer agreement?" Kenneth sneered, "That agreement is legally void. Your core data from back then is backed up with me. It's a highly classified project. It's not something Greg can transfer. If he dares to act, I'll ensure he ends up behind bars."

Ronda's lifeless heart started beating after she heard those words.

Kenneth was right.

She still had Kenneth and unfinished dreams.

Why should she die for a scoundrel like Greg?

He and Rose deserved that.

"Professor... I want to leave here." Ronda dried her tears. A fire of revenge ignited in her eyes. "I want to heal my hand and take back what belonged to me."

"Good. That's my good mentee." Kenneth said excitedly, "I've already arranged everything for you. There's a private plane to Anceburg at one o'clock in the early morning. Wait at the hospital's back door. Someone will pick you up. Remember, leave everything behind and keep moving forward."

"Okay." Hanging up the phone, Ronda looked out of the window, and her gaze turned extremely cold.

At one the next morning, a discreet black car was parked at the hospital's back entrance.

Ronda was dressed as a cleaner with a mask and a hat. She successfully avoided all surveillance cameras and quietly slipped out.

Before getting into the car, she glanced back at the brightly lit hospital building.

The director's office on the top floor was still aglow.

Greg was celebrating Rose's "promotion," partying through the night.

"Greg, Rose." Ronda silently repeated their names in her mind. "I will repay a hundredfold the humiliation I received today. Just wait."