After six years with Joel, Lyra landed in the hospital—sick and drained.

The day she got discharged, she caught something in the hallway she wasn't supposed to hear.

"Joel Fenwick, are you out of your mind? You gave Lyra's bone marrow to Renee without telling her? You knew her health was trash and lied about it being a stomach issue just to make her do it?"

Renee. Joel's childhood flame. The girl he never got over.

Lyra didn't cry. Didn't freak out. She just picked up the phone, called her parents overseas, and said yes to an arranged marriage with the Windsors.

Silvercrest Hospital, Lindale, Khelmark.

Evelyn Fenwick burst into the hospital room, glaring at her younger brother slouched on the couch.

"Joel Fenwick, are you out of your mind? You gave Lyra's bone marrow to Renee without telling her?"

Joel Fenwick didn't flinch, just clenched his jaw. "Lyra was the only match. I didn't have a choice."

She snatched Lyra's medical report off the table, eyes blazing. "NO CHOICE? You knew her health was trash and lied about it being a stomach issue just to make her do it? What's WRONG with you? Renee's got you whipped again?

"Years ago, you nearly killed yourself racing just to make her smile and ended up paralyzed for five years. Who stuck by you the whole time? LYRA.

"Now you're back on your feet, Renee shows up sick, and you sneak around to steal Lyra's bone marrow. Then as soon as Renee's better, you're off making TEST TUBE BABIES with her!"

Lyra froze at the doorway, gripping the wall like it was the only thing keeping her upright. Her smile went stiff, a chill washing over her.

Just half an hour ago, the doctor cleared her "stomach condition" and said she could finally go home. Joel had proposed right there—she'd cried happy tears and even posted online about it being the best day of her life.

Inside the room, Joel hung his head, messy hair shadowing his eyes.

"Evelyn, keep this to yourself. Don't let Lyra find out. Renee's grandma doesn't have much time left—she just wants to hold Renee's child before she dies. I don't want her leaving with regrets."

Evelyn's eyes widened, face flushed with fury. "And what about Lyra? Everyone knows she's been in love with you for SIX YEARS!

"Remember? Renee confessed to Stanley Pryce and got shot down. You used Lyra to humiliate him. Now Renee's pregnant, and after everything Lyra's done for you, what's your plan for her?"

Joel stared at the floor. After a long pause, his voice came out rough. "I've got it all planned. Lyra will never know Renee's pregnant. As for the future... I'm used to having her around. I'll marry her..."

Lyra didn't hear the rest.

A nurse walked up, and Lyra quickly lowered her head, pretending she'd just come back from handling discharge papers. Inside, Joel and Evelyn shared uneasy glances before Evelyn dragged him out.

On the way home, Joel rambled about wedding plans, but Lyra didn't hear a word. She just stared out the window, feeling cold all over.

She'd met Joel at fifteen—some fancy party her parents threw. One look at that aloof, noble-looking teenager, and he was burned into her mind.

At sixteen, she joined a racing competition under the alias 'Vesper' and ended up saving his life. That was the start of her long, silent crush.

At twenty, Stanley Pryce was chasing her, and Joel hit her up on a chat app after a party. She'd been on cloud nine—until she learned about Renee Slutz, Joel's childhood sweetheart. Renee was wild, bouncing from guy to guy, never giving Joel the time of day.

At twenty-one, Joel finally confessed, and she said yes. A year later, he got into that racing accident and wound up paralyzed. Everything changed. He turned moody and bitter, but Lyra stayed—out of love. She could've moved to Emmerica with her parents, but she didn't.

At twenty-seven, Joel got back on his feet. His grandfather, Dominic Fenwick, announced he'd take over Fenwick Corp. He was on top of the world—while she collapsed at home and woke up in the hospital with a supposed "stomach condition." Surgery. Recovery. Lies.

Now it all made sense—those endless blood tests at the hospital. Joel said it was for medical checks, but he'd tricked her into donating bone marrow to Renee.

The Bentley pulled into the villa complex.

Around midnight, Joel's phone rang—'Cutie ReeRee.' He swiped to decline and left in a hurry.

Lyra moved to the window, watching the Bentley disappear into the night.

She pulled out her phone and dialed her mom. "Mom, I've made up my mind. I'm agreeing to the arranged marriage with the Windsor family. Seven days from now, as soon as I land, I'll get the marriage certificate."

Deborah seemed to sense what Lyra was going through. She offered a few comforting words before gently pointing out the reality. "Are you sure? Honey, our family isn't as influential as it used to be.

"This marriage isn't something to take lightly. The Windsor and Fenwick families might be miles apart, but they are like fire and water.

"If you marry into the Windsors, they might make you cut all ties with the Fenwicks."

Lyra lowered her gaze. Six years ago, the Lebeau family moved their business to Emmerica. After a financial crisis, the Windsor family—also based in Emmerica—pushed for a marriage alliance, but her parents never forced her—because they knew she loved Joel.

Now she just wanted him out of her life for good. Marrying into the Windsor family was the only way to make a clean break.

"Mom, I've made up my mind. I never want to see Joel again!"

Deborah went quiet for a few seconds before saying, "Alright. Tomorrow, your dad and I will discuss the marriage with the Windsors."

Lyra didn't sleep all night.

The next morning, Joel still hadn't come back. Just one message:

[Lyra, there's an issue at the company. I'm going on a business trip for three days.]

She didn't bother replying. Instead, she booked a flight to Emmerica for a week later.

Packing up felt like ripping out roots. Years of living with Joel had piled up way too much stuff. Since the Lebeaus were strapped for cash, she listed anything valuable online.

By evening, a notification popped up—a message from an unfamiliar account:

[Hi, Lyra.]

She tapped it open. The profile pic was a positive pregnancy test, and the username read 'ReeRee Bliss.'

Of course. Renee made a new, private account just to mess with her. Not brave enough to go public yet.

A minute later, a social media post from Renee appeared—a photo of Joel at a prenatal checkup, captioned:

[Hehe, gentle, caring, and filthy rich—the perfect dad 😘]

Lyra saw through the petty scheme instantly. She liked the post and fired off a comment:

[Got my bone marrow, got better, and now you're here to provoke me? Tell me, Renee Slutz—how does stolen life taste?]

The next day, Lyra met up with her friends to say goodbye and sold off some luxury stuff to willing buyers.

On the way home, her phone buzzed—another post from Renee. More photos, this time of Joel helping her pick out maternity clothes. Pink and white dresses, all fancy and cute.

Curious, Lyra scrolled back to the last post and spotted Renee's smug reply to her comment:

[It's not like I begged you to donate your bone marrow. Joel was just worried about me and forced me to accept it.]

Lyra snorted and shot back a single question mark.

By the third day, she'd sold all the gifts she'd given Joel over the years—shirts, shoes, watches. Every trace of him, gone.

Then, another post from Renee popped up. This time it was about some luxury postpartum care center Joel had booked for her. The caption read:

[Can't help it. People like me are just born lucky.]

That afternoon, Joel finally showed up. He froze when he saw the half-empty bedroom, frowning at the pink suitcase by the door.

"Why does the place look so empty? Those shirts you gave me are gone too. And why'd you suddenly buy a suitcase?"

Lyra dropped her gaze, keeping it casual. "Those shirts were outdated, so I tossed them. Was planning a trip but changed my mind."

Thinking she was just sulking because he'd been gone for three days, Joel pulled out a purchase contract and handed it over. "I've been busy with work, so I ordered you a new supercar. We'll go pick it up later."

Lyra glanced at the contract. An exclusive Lamborghini—black and pink, just how she liked it. Even the seats were customized with her favorite animated character.

Cars were her thing, way more than designer bags, and this model had definitely caught her eye recently. Six years together, and Joel still knew her tastes to a T.

If she hadn't overheard his little chat with Evelyn at the hospital, she might've actually felt touched.

"Thanks."

She set the contract aside.

Joel frowned and leaned in, gently pinching her cheek. "Still mad? There's a party tonight. I'll take you out to unwind."

Lyra was about to say no, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her downstairs.

They hadn't been on the road long when Joel's phone rang. The caller ID flashed 'Cutie ReeRee.'

Lyra couldn't catch much—just a shaky, sobbing voice saying, "Joel... sob... hurry, save me..."

Joel's jaw clenched. He tapped the screen, pulling up Renee's real-time location from some app, then whipped the car around.

"Forget the party. Renee's been kidnapped. I have to get to her."

He drove like a maniac, blasting through over a dozen red lights.

Twenty minutes later, he spotted a black sedan up ahead and slammed the gas.

Bang!

The back of the sedan crumpled instantly.

At the same moment, another car slammed into the Bentley's passenger side, sending it skidding. Lyra couldn't move fast enough—her head smacked against the window, and blood started streaming down her face.

A sharp, stabbing pain shot through her skull like needles digging straight into her brain. She couldn't even make a sound.

Joel didn't spare her a glance—his eyes stayed glued to Renee in the black sedan, completely oblivious to Lyra's injury.

After three more collisions, the black car finally screeched to a stop. The attackers bailed, jumping into the accomplice's vehicle and speeding off.

Joel shoved his door open and rushed to the back seat, scooping Renee into his arms. For the first time, pure panic flashed in his eyes.

"You okay? Did they hurt you?"

Renee curled into his arms, her face tilted up to show a red slap mark, eyes shimmering with tears.

"It was my dad's business rivals... They just slapped me once. It's nothing serious."

Seeing her like that made Joel's heart clench. He growled in frustration.

"Nothing serious? Even when you were abroad, I spoiled you and kept you safe from stuff like this. What if something happened to the baby?"

Renee sobbed harder. "It's your fault for taking so long... I was so scared..."

"Don't be afraid. It's my fault. I'll get you checked out right now."

He placed her carefully in the back seat, floored it to the hospital in five minutes flat, and carried her straight into the ER.

Not once did he notice Lyra still sitting in the passenger seat—eyes red and swollen, blood soaking through her hair and streaking down her pale face.

Lyra watched them vanish into the hospital. She tipped her head back, fighting tears, and forced herself to move. Hands shaking, she pushed open the car door and headed for the entrance.

By evening, rain was coming down in torrents, soaking straight through her wound. She didn't bother covering it up.

A nurse at the triage desk went pale, rushing over to help and guiding her to get checked out.

An hour later, Lyra was done with the exams—exhausted and barely hanging on. She grabbed her phone, spotting over a dozen missed calls—all from Joel. Without hesitating, she powered it off.

Since the IV drip would take hours, she asked the nurse to set up a room for the night.

In the quiet, memories swarmed her mind.

After Joel's paralysis, she used to go to social events for him. One time at a business dinner, two CEOs got into it, and one flipped the table—plates shattered everywhere, and a shard cut her wrist.

Joel showed up, livid, and immediately ordered his assistant to cut ties with both companies. Then he accompanied her to the hospital himself to get the wound cleaned up.

She'd thought he was overreacting, but he'd just smiled and said, "Lyra, you're the most important woman in my life. I don't want any scars on you—except maybe from having our kids. Smooth skin looks best with beautiful clothes and jewelry."

And now, with her face covered in blood, he'd brushed her off to take care of someone else.

He once swore she'd never have to bear a scar, but he made her risk her life to donate bone marrow for another woman. Even marriage and kids—he'd planned all that with someone else behind her back.

Before sleep claimed her, she saw a new post from ReeRee Bliss. It was a video of Joel, half-kneeling and gently washing Renee's feet to get her to sleep. Lyra played it on loop, heart aching more each time. Sleep never came.

***

The next morning, Lyra dragged herself home. As soon as she stepped inside, Colin, the butler, appeared, looking uneasy.

"Ms. Lebeau, Mr. Fenwick's waiting by the pool. He's... not in a good mood."

She headed to the pool and spotted Joel comforting Renee, who was sniffling and playing the victim with fake tears streaming down her face.

The second Joel saw Lyra, his anger snapped. Cold fury radiated off him.

"Did you deliberately leak Renee's whereabouts to her dad's enemies?"

Lyra froze, eyes shifting to Renee, who lounged on the couch with a smug, triumphant smirk. It clicked instantly—another setup. She rubbed her temples, exhausted.

"I don't even know who her dad's enemies are," she shot back. "How would I leak anything?"

Joel didn't budge. He yanked out a stack of photos and slammed them onto the table.

"Then explain these—pictures of you meeting with them. What's going on?"

Lyra glanced at the photos, her expression going ice-cold. They were from a few days ago when she'd been selling her secondhand luxury stuff at a coffee shop. No wonder the buyer didn't haggle—he'd insisted on meeting at that exact spot.

When she didn't speak, Joel took it as guilt. His face got even darker.

"Haven't I made it clear enough?" he snapped. "No matter what rumors are out there about me and Renee, we're innocent—there's nothing between us. I've always treated her like a sister. She's genuinely kind.

"And you—six years. We've been together for six years. You know how I've treated you all this time. Didn't I just propose a few days ago? Yet you still insist on hurting her like this. Can you even justify it?"

His words hit like a slap, but Lyra just stood there, holding it together while her heart cracked wide open.

Six years. That's what he kept throwing at her—like it meant something. Funny how he forgot the first year was him chasing her just to piss someone off for Renee's sake. And the next five? Her taking care of the paralyzed, miserable man.

She'd watched him fall apart—angry, broken, crying his eyes out night after night—all because he almost killed himself racing to boost Renee's ego. Real convenient how he forgot that part.

She'd been there every single day, secretly learning rehab techniques, massaging his legs, and even meeting with top psychologists just to figure out how to keep him from spiraling. However, he acted like none of it ever happened.

Honestly, it was pathetic.

Lyra almost wanted to laugh and straight-up ask—if Renee was just his "sister," then why the hell was he making test tube babies with her?

She took a slow breath. "Yeah, I finally get it now—how you've treated me and her these past six years."

Joel's jaw clenched. "What are you trying to say now?"

She didn't even bother arguing. Just pointed at the bandage wrapped around her head, giving him a bitter smile.

"She got kidnapped yesterday, and I ended up with a head injury. Five stitches. You really think I'm dumb enough to hurt myself just to get back at her?"

Even with the bandage right in his face, Joel didn't budge—still locked on protecting Renee. Typical.

Seeing his cold, tense expression, something inside Lyra just... let go. Three more days, and she'd be out of here for good.

"Fine," she said quietly. "Since you've already decided I'm guilty, just tell me how you wanna deal with it."