In the very next second, Nicolas clamped a hand around her wrist and said in a voice cold enough to cut, "You're coming to the operating room. Right now."

The force of his grip was vicious, crushing down so hard it felt like the bones in her wrist might splinter.

Pain shot through Ashley, and she jerked her hand free on instinct.

"Why the hell would I go with you?"

For a brief instant, shock flashed across Nicolas's face.

Over three years of marriage, he had grown far too used to her quiet patience, her obedient softness, and the way she always gave in to him.

Never once had she challenged him this openly.

At once, his expression darkened, and his voice came out even harsher with anger. "You've still got the nerve to ask? If you hadn't poisoned Caroline, she wouldn't be lying in kidney failure right now, barely hanging on. This was your fault, so you were going to pay for it."

A frigid laugh slipped from Ashley's lips. "Oh, really? And how was I supposed to pay? By marching into the operating room and letting you carve one of my kidneys out for her?"

Nicolas hadn't expected her to see straight through his plan so quickly, but he didn't feel the slightest bit ashamed of it.

"What if that's exactly what I meant? It's only one kidney. You owed her at least that much. You were coming with me."

She owed Caroline?

The sheer insanity of that thought made Ashley feel like the whole world had turned into a joke.

In her previous life, Nicolas had taken Caroline's side every single time that woman set her up.

Back then, Ashley had foolishly believed she wasn't good enough, that she had somehow made Nicolas misunderstand her, so she kept giving more, swallowing more pain, and clinging to the desperate hope that one day she could change his mind about her.

Not until the day they drove her to her death did she finally see how horribly wrong she had been.

This time, she would never hand them another chance to destroy her.

"No," she said, her voice sharp and icy. "Absolutely not."

A cruel sneer tugged at Nicolas's lips. "You don't get to decide that. Take her to the operating room and run the compatibility tests now."

The instant the order left his mouth, several broad-shouldered bodyguards closed in on her.

Seeing those painfully familiar faces, Ashley was dragged straight back to the last life—to the moment they had hauled her into the operating room like she was less than human.

Before their hands could close on her, Ashley whirled around and bolted.

Relying on the grim memories of her previous life, she raced straight to Caroline's room and drove the door open with a hard kick.

Inside, Caroline was reclining against the pillows, holding up a compact mirror while she carefully painted on her lipstick.

The door burst inward with a savage crash, and Caroline shrieked as the lipstick dragged a vivid red streak across her cheek.

At once, she lashed out, "Didn't I make myself clear? I'm busy. No one comes in here. Which brainless little..."

Mid-sentence, her eyes landed on Ashley, and her face stiffened with sudden shock.

"Ashley?" Her voice caught for a beat before turning sharp with alarm. "What... what are you doing here?"

By now, Ashley was supposed to have already been hauled into the operating room, prepped and cut open for her kidney.

Before Caroline could steady herself, Nicolas burst in with several bodyguards close behind, chasing after Ashley.

At the sight of Caroline sitting upright, perfectly fine, Nicolas halted mid-step, shock flashing across his face. "Caroline? You're awake?"

A jolt ran through Caroline's body, her posture going rigid. Only then did it hit her—she was supposed to still be unconscious.

In a flurry of panic, she shoved the compact mirror beneath the blanket, fingers trembling as she forced her expression into something pale and pitiful. Clutching at her chest, she bent forward and broke into a fit of harsh, exaggerated coughing. "Nicolas… it hurts…"

But the act came a second too late.

A mocking smile curved across Ashley's lips. "Miss Wheeler, I heard you were practically dying. They were this close to dragging me into operation to carve out a kidney for you. And now you're sitting here looking just fine. So what was this, huh? Another one of your little traps? Were you faking the whole thing just to pin it on me?"

For the briefest instant, Caroline's expression locked up. Then her eyes turned red on command, and tears spilled down her cheeks as neatly as if she had rehearsed it.

"Ashley, what are you even saying? I don't understand any of this. I just woke up. I only wanted to fix myself up a little because I didn't want Nicolas to see me looking awful. Why are you making it sound like I'm trying to harm you?"

Just as Ashley had expected, the second Nicolas saw Caroline's fragile, tearful face, he moved to shield her.

"That's enough, Ashley," he snapped, his expression hard with anger. "Do you really think everyone is as scheming as you are? Caroline is naturally kind. Why would she ever do something to harm you?"

"Kind? You're calling her kind?"

A short, sharp laugh escaped Ashley, full of disbelief.

She stepped forward without hesitation and ripped the blanket off Caroline in one swift motion.

What lay underneath wasn't just a whole makeup kit, but also an open box of pastries, half of it already eaten.

"Nicolas, take a good look for once."

Her hand shot out, pointing straight at the pastries as her voice rose. "This is the person you said was on the verge of dying? The same one you were ready to take my kidney for? Her life is worth everything, but mine doesn't even matter? You can just throw mine away whenever it suits you?"

Nicolas's gaze landed on the pastries, and his expression shifted again and again, embarrassment and irritation flickering across his face.

Sensing the situation slipping out of control, Caroline grabbed his sleeve and started crying. "Nicolas, I didn't know... I really didn't understand why the doctor made it sound so serious. Maybe the test results were wrong. Or maybe someone paid the doctor to set me up, just to make you think I was lying..."

Anyone with a bit of sense could tell how forced her act was.

Even so, Nicolas only paused briefly before deciding to believe her.

He looked at Ashley, his brows drawn together. "If it was just a misunderstanding, then the surgery won't happen. Let's leave it at that."

"Leave it at that?" Ashley let out a disbelieving laugh. "Nicolas, if I hadn't gotten away in time, they would've taken my kidney already. And you think that's something we can just forget?"

"But nothing actually happened to you, right? It was just a misunderstanding. Why are you still making such a big deal out of it?"

His expression tightened further, and the irritation in his eyes became more obvious.

"You're dragging this out because you want compensation, aren't you? Fine. I'll transfer the villa on the outskirts to your name and give you fifty million on top of that. That should be enough."

A faint, cold laugh slipped from Ashley. "You think that settles everything?"

The moment she said that, Nicolas felt a surge of annoyance. In his mind, she was clearly asking for more.

"Then say it. What do you actually want?"

Her voice cut through the room without hesitation. "What I want is simple. I want a divorce. Right now."

"A divorce?"

Nicolas stared at her as if she had said something absurd.

Throughout their three years of marriage, everyone around him knew one thing. Ashley had always been deeply attached to him.

That was why he believed her hostility toward Caroline came from jealousy after she returned.

So how could she suddenly want to leave him?

Then a thought crossed his mind, and his gaze turned mocking.

"Ashley, some pathetic way to draw my attention, huh? Aren't you tired of this? Ever since Caroline came back, you've been stirring up trouble. Now you're bringing up divorce too? It's ridiculous. I'll give you one last chance. Take those words back, and I'll let everything slide."

Ashley looked at him, at the confidence in his eyes that she would never walk away, and felt a wave of disgust.

"Nicolas, do you really not understand what I'm saying?"

She straightened her posture and met his gaze directly.

Each word came out sharp and clear. "I want a divorce."

Her response only made his expression darken. "And what's your reason for this?"

"Reason?" Ashley's tone dropped even further. "Because you refuse to see the truth. Because you'd rather sacrifice your own wife just to protect a woman who has no shame. A man like you has no right to be my husband. I can't stand you."

The smug curl on Nicolas's lips slowly faded, and a raw, simmering anger surfaced—the look of a man who realized he'd been read too easily.

"Perfect. Just perfect," he muttered, jaw tight, each word forced out between clenched teeth. "If you're that desperate for a divorce, fine—I'll give it to you. But listen carefully, Ashley… don't come crawling back later. The moment you lose the title of Mrs. Reed, you'll be nothing at all."

With a sharp turn, he strode toward the doorway and snapped at his assistant, "Get the divorce papers. Immediately."

Startled by the sudden command, the assistant flinched, then rushed off without a single word.

In less than ten minutes, the door swung open again, and two freshly printed copies were brought into the room.

Nicolas snatched the documents and slapped them onto the bedside table with a sharp, echoing thud.

Fixing his gaze on Ashley, he spoke with the cold restraint of a man extending his final scrap of mercy. "Ashley, for the sake of the three years of marriage we shared, I'll give you one last chance. Admit you were wrong, and I'll rip these papers up right now."

Admit she was wrong? A hollow scoff slipped from Ashley's lips. Of all the wrongs she had made, marrying him stood at the very top.

Without bothering to look his way, she strode forward, seized the pen, and bent over the papers. Her signature flowed across the page in one smooth, decisive stroke, bold and unyielding.

Not a flicker of doubt slowed her hand.

"There. It's done."

With a crisp snap, she flung the pen onto the table.

Lifting her eyes to him, she spoke with undisguised impatience. "Your turn, Mr. Reed."

The icy expression on her face threw Nicolas completely off balance.

Around the pen, his fingers clamped down so hard his knuckles blanched.

This wasn't right.

Something had gone terribly, unmistakably wrong.

The Ashley he remembered would be uneasy whenever he so much as frowned.

Each time her gaze landed on him, it had always brimmed with meek, desperate devotion.

The woman standing in front of him now met his gaze as if he were nothing but a stranger.

No—something lower than that.

She looked at him like he was garbage she couldn't wait to throw away.

That icy detachment pouring off her, sharp and final, sparked an odd irritation in his chest, along with a thread of unease he couldn't quite name.

For the first time, Nicolas faltered.

From beneath the blanket, Caroline had been silently watching it all unfold, and a cruel glint slipped through her eyes.

She couldn't let Nicolas waver now.

"Nicolas..." she whispered weakly, her voice quivering as tears clung to it. "This is all because of me. If I hadn't been here, Ashley wouldn't be arguing with you like this."

Turning toward Ashley, she put on a fragile, wounded look. "Ashley, please don't blame Nicolas for this. I'll leave. I'll go right now. I won't ever appear in front of you again..."

While she spoke, Caroline forced herself upright, her movements shaky, only to sway dangerously as if her strength had finally given out.

Seeing that fragile display erased the last trace of hesitation in Nicolas. Concern surged through him, swallowing everything else without a trace.

He reached out immediately, steadying her trembling body, then turned his gaze back to Ashley—cold, sharp, and brimming with undisguised contempt.

"Take a good look at Caroline, then take a look at yourself. A cruel woman like you has no place standing beside me as my wife."

Without the slightest pause this time, he grabbed the pen and scrawled his name across the agreement in one swift, decisive stroke.

Afterward, he tore one copy free and tossed it at her, his tone steady—unyielding, final, and merciless.

"Ashley, I'll be watching for the day you regret this choice. When it finally hits you, don't expect mercy—even if you come back begging on your knees, I won't give you a second glance."

Ever since Ashley had married him, Nicolas had been certain he understood exactly what kind of woman she was.

An orphan with no family, no backing, and no one in the world to lean on. In his mind, once she left, she would be utterly alone. Soon enough, he was sure, she would come crawling back and beg him to take her in again.

"Regret it? Then I'm afraid you're the one who'll be disappointed, Mr. Reed." Slipping the divorce papers out of sight, Ashley lifted her eyes and cast Caroline one final, measured glance.

And her lips curved into a faint, dismissive smile. "Caroline, I don't want this man anymore. You're welcome to take him. I sincerely hope the two of you stay together for a very long time—and spare everyone else from having to suffer either of you."

Without sparing so much as a backward glance, Ashley strode out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

Her spine remained perfectly straight, each step light and unhurried, as if the suffocating burden she had carried for years had finally been lifted from her shoulders.

Left standing in silence, Nicolas kept his gaze fixed on the empty doorway where she had vanished, an unfamiliar hollowness spreading through his chest and tightening with every second.

Brushing it off with a faint scoff, he convinced himself it meant nothing, that the unease was merely the result of growing accustomed to her constant, clingy presence.

Given a few days, he thought coldly, once she tasted the harshness of life outside, she would come back to him on her own, humbled and desperate.

Stepping out of the hospital doors, Ashley felt the pale winter sunlight spill over her skin, its gentle warmth seeping into her bones in a way she had not experienced in years.

Pulling her phone from her bag, she keyed in a number she hadn't dared to touch in years.

The line connected almost at once, and a man's usually composed voice broke through, thick with sudden emotion.

"Ms. Dunn? Is… is that really you?"

Tilting her head back, Ashley stared into the clear, sunlit sky above her. Moisture clung to her lashes, yet her tone remained calm, almost resolute.

"It's me. I'm divorced. Come pick me up… take me home."