That night, Jake returned to the apartment, his arm wrapped in bandages.

“Morg? Why are you back? Shouldn’t you get more rest at the hospital?” His tone was casual, as if what he said earlier that day never happened.

Morgan forced back a wave of agony and nausea, forcing herself to speak quietly. “I stayed with you all night… I was too tired. I came back to get some rest.”

Jake stepped closer, attempting to pull her into an embrace. His voice was tinged with self-pity, as if expecting her gratitude. “Look at how hurt I am for you. Don’t be mad at me anymore, okay?”

As he spoke, his hand wandered, trying to kiss her. However, Morgan pushed him away violently again.

For the first time, Jake’s expression darkened. “Morgan, I’ve coddled you over and over again. Isn’t that enough? Haven’t I made it up to you?”

“Is sleeping with me all you ever think about?” She choked, voice trembled with desperation.

“Of course not!” Jake replied instantly, his performance flawless. “It’s you I like! I like you as a person!”

Morgan looked at him and then laughed a bitter, tearful laugh. She said nothing after that, only meeting his gaze with a chilling, sorrowful stare. Jake felt a strange mix of guilt and anger under her eyes. Finally, with a cold snort, he grabbed his coat and slammed the door shut on his way out.

Knowing he would not return tonight, Morgan finally allowed herself a moment to breathe.

The next day at school, the president of the student union approached her. “Morgan, we’re having a barbecue this weekend. You have to come!”

Morgan hesitated. “I…”

“Don’t refuse!” The president grabbed her arm and lowered her voice. “And… why don’t you bring your boyfriend, Dean? His company is huge. A lot of us, seniors, are about to intern there, and we want to get on good terms with him. We wouldn’t even be able to approach him normally… You’re our only chance.”

Morgan knew that messaging Dean would probably get ignored, but those in the student union had always treated her well, so she steeled herself and sent a message anyway. To her surprise, Dean actually showed up at the weekend barbecue. Only… he was with Hazel, smiling gracefully beside him.

When he saw Morgan, Dean only gave her a brief, indifferent glance. His voice was calm and even. “I happened to be with Hazel when you messaged, so I brought her along.”

Morgan felt a sting in her chest, but she nodded silently.

Throughout the barbecue, Dean’s attention never left Hazel. The first pieces of grilled meat always went to her; he carefully trimmed the fatty parts, made sure her drinks had straws, and when a bit of sauce got on her lips, he casually wiped it away. It was meticulous, attentive care—the kind Morgan had never received.

She could not help but remember the past two years. As Dean was a pampered rich kid, she had always been careful, attending to his every mood, memorizing every preference, and accommodating every habit. She had even assumed he was naturally cold and distant.

Only now did she realize that he was not incapable of care or attention. She had just never been the person who could make him lower his guard willingly. She even saw Hazel subtly placing ingredients she did not like into Dean’s plate. He frowned slightly and then, astonishingly, ate them.

If Morgan recalled correctly, Dean had a serious aversion to eating food touched by others. Once, she accidentally served him something with her own utensils, and he had gone cold immediately, leaving the dish untouched. However, as it seemed, all his rules and habits could be broken with someone he truly liked.

Later, the group started playing a game of dares. The first loser was Hazel, and her punishment was to drink three shots of strong liquor. She hesitated, but Dean reached over and grabbed the glass before she could protest.

His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. “She can’t handle it. I’ll do it for her.”

Then, without flinching, he downed all three shots.

Later, Morgan lost as well. Her punishment was to eat a skewer of meat smothered in insanely spicy sauce. The heat burned her mouth so badly that tears streamed down her face, and she coughed uncontrollably. Instinctively, she looked at Dean, but he was so focused on talking to Hazel that his eyes never even flickered in her direction. Her heart went numb at that cold disregard.

Afterwards, everyone crowded around Dean to ask about internships, leaving only Morgan and Hazel sitting across from each other.

Hazel’s expression was smug. “Morgan, aren’t you Dean’s girlfriend? Yet during the whole party, he stayed by my side, not once looking at you.”

Morgan silently sipped her water.

“Honestly, I don’t know why he ever ended up with you,” Hazel continued, her tone sharp. “But as his girlfriend, you’re failing spectacularly. If it were me, I’d have taken a hint and left long ago. Look at you. Your intimate photos are all out in the open, and your family background… Well, it doesn’t even measure up in our circles. You think being perfect makes you great? What in the world makes you worthy of him?”

Morgan remained silent, as if she had not heard a word.

Seeing no response from Mogan, Hazel was about to say something when a waiter came over to replace the charcoal for the grill. Perhaps due to a slip, the tray tipped, and glowing coals spilled directly toward Hazel and Morgan.

“Ah!” Hazel screamed in terror.

In a flash, Dean lunged forward, pulling Hazel tightly into his chest and using his own back to shield them from the flying embers.

“Dean!” Hazel’s hands were trembling as she felt along his back, her voice breaking with panic. “Are you okay? Does it hurt? We have to get you to the hospital!”

Dean’s brow was furrowed from the pain, and cold sweat formed at his temple. Yet, he forced a reassuring smile. “It’s nothing. It’s just a minor injury. You finally wanted to come out and have fun. I’m not going to ruin that for you.”

“No! We have to go to the hospital!” Hazel insisted.

Morgan watched the scene, a couple bound together by shared hardship, and felt a bitter mix of irony and suffocating frustration. She could not stand being there any longer and stood up to leave.

Dean grabbed her wrist, his grip firm, his tone sharp with accusation. “Where are you going?”

“Home.” Morgan struggled and pulled back, mocking him. “What, are you coming with me?”

Dean fell silent, loosening his grip slightly. After a long pause, he spoke stiffly, “Go ahead.”

With that, Morgan sneered and walked away without looking back.

The rest of the people there tried to smooth things over. “Dean, Morgan’s just jealous. Go comfort her!”

Dean’s gaze lingered on the doorway, his brow tightly knit. In the end, he replied coldly, “Don’t worry about her. She’ll figure it out on her own.”

Alone back at her apartment, Morgan noticed something unusual: neither Dean nor Jake had appeared all night. For once, she had an undisturbed evening, yet sleep eluded her.

Late that night, her phone suddenly rang sharply. It was Dean.

“Morgan, get to Central City Hospital immediately!” His voice was urgent and icy. Before she could answer, he hung up.

Confused and hesitant, Morgan quickly made her way to the hospital. As soon as she arrived at the emergency room, Dean grabbed her arm with such force that it felt like he might crush her bones.

“Hazel was in a car accident! She’s losing a lot of blood! She’s RH-negative, and the blood bank is running low! You have the same blood type. Give her yours now!”

Morgan stared at him in shock. “You called me here to give her blood?”

“Or what? Watch her die? Move!” Dean’s tone brooked no argument as he practically dragged her toward the blood donation room.

“I’m not going! Let go, Dean!” Morgan struggled, fear and anger fighting for dominance.

However, against Dean’s absolute strength, her resistance was meaningless. She was forced into the chair, the needle piercing her vein.

Looking at the blood flowing into the bag, the nurse frowned. “Mr. Lyon, you’ve taken 1000cc. Any more could be dangerous for her.”

Dean’s gaze remained fixed on the operating room, his expression cold and unyielding. “No. Hazel has a blood-clotting disorder. Draw extra for her. Now!”

As the needle continued to drain her blood, dizziness and chills washed over Morgan until her vision went black and she lost consciousness. When she awoke, she was lying in a hospital bed with an IV drip attached to the back of her hand. Dean was sitting beside her.

The first words she heard were not concern but a sharp reprimand. “Morgan, I never thought you’d be so cruel to tamper with Hazel’s car brakes? Do you want her dead?”

Morgan froze, incredulous. “I didn’t! When did I ever touch her car?”

“Hazel said so herself! Only you had an excuse to get close to her car!” Dean did not even bother to consider her denial, his gaze sharp. “The evidence is clear. What’s your excuse?”

In that moment, everything clicked. This was just another trap orchestrated entirely by Hazel, and Dean chose to believe it.

Morgan opened her mouth to explain, but she realized that all her words were powerless. He had long since made up his mind.

In the end, Dean reported the incident to the police on grounds of intentional assault. Morgan was too weak to resist, her body still drained from giving blood, and was dragged straight to the detention station.

Those three days were the darkest in her life. In the holding cell, the other inmates took every opportunity to bully her, a pretty university girl, with fists, slaps, hair-pulling… Everything was routine. They snatched the barely edible prison meals from her, shoved her onto the filthy floor, and humiliated her at every breath.

Each breath she breathed carried the taste of blood and despair; every second stretched out like a century. However, the physical pain was nothing compared to the devastation crushing her spirit. All her pride, dignity, and dreams for the future were destroyed. She would rather be dead than alive.

Finally, after enduring the worst, she dragged her battered body back to her apartment. She was just about to unlock the door when a sudden, sharp pain shot through the back of her neck. Darkness swarmed her vision, and a bag was forced over her head. Then came the heavy blows of iron rods raining down like relentless hail.

The pain was so unbearable that she coughed up a mouthful of blood, every bone in her body screaming as though it would shatter at any moment. In the haze, she heard a familiar voice. It was Jake!

Someone asked, “Jake, hasn’t Dean dealt with her for breaking Hazel’s car brake? Why are you still–”

Jake’s voice was cold, merciless. “That is my brother, and I am me. Touch a hair on Hazel’s head, and she will pay ten times the price. This is just the beginning.”

The bag was yanked open just enough for her to glimpse, and then slimy, writhing shapes were thrown inside, coiling around her neck and arms. Hissing filled her ears. Snakes were her greatest fear.

Terror gripped her heart, suffocating her, and no matter how desperately she struggled, she could not make a sound. The bag was tightened again, and the next second, she was lifted into the air and violently thrown into the icy river.

Water filled her lungs, and panic drowned her completely.

“Help… someone… Help me…”

Time blurred. When she thought death was inevitable, someone finally dragged her out, tossing her like garbage onto a deserted road. The moment the bag was removed, Morgan coughed violently, spitting out mud and water, her vision blurry. Her soaked body throbbed with pain, each injury stinging from the cold.

Teeth chattering uncontrollably, she used every ounce of strength to crawl out. Rainwater and tears streamed down her face as she struggled to stand, but darkness swept over her again, and she lost consciousness. When she woke again, she was lying in a hospital bed.

A nurse, speaking as if reading from a script, said, “You’re awake? Your medical fees are unpaid.”

Morgan struggled to her feet, leaning on the wall as she made her way to the payment counter.

At the corner of the hallway, she collided with Dean and Jake, who had just come out of a VIP ward. Both looked startled to see her.

Dean spoke first, frowning. “Why are you in the hospital?”

His eyes scanned the hospital gown and the bruises visible beneath it.

Morgan said nothing. Instead, she fixed her gaze on the man standing beside Dean—Jake, the man who looked identical to Dean but radiated a completely different presence.

Dean’s expression shifted slightly, and he introduced naturally. “This is my younger brother, Jake. He just returned to the country and came to visit Hazel.”

Then, speaking to Jake, he said, “Jake, this is Morgan. I… She’s my girlfriend.”

Jake smiled flawlessly, as if meeting her for the first time, and said politely, “Hello, Morgan.”

Watching the two of them perform this absurd act right in front of her, Morgan could not help but laugh, with tears streaming down her face. At her uncharacteristic smile, the two brothers felt an inexplicable pang of unease and strangeness sweep through them.

Dean frowned, his tone sharp. “Now that your detention is over, remember this lesson. Stay in line and don’t hurt Hazel again.”

A nurse walked out of Hazel’s ward with some words, and both brothers immediately turned and entered, leaving Morgan ignored. Through the glass on the ward door, she watched them fuss over Hazel with care and tenderness. Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably, but she wiped them away fiercely.

Just then, her phone rang. It was the school.

“Morgan, your withdrawal papers have been processed.”

“Thank you,” she replied, voice calm and even.

She hung up, returned to her apartment, and silently packed her meager belongings. Then, without a word, she headed straight to the airport and boarded a flight to another country.

It wasn't until that evening that Dean finally remembered Morgan. He took out his phone, found Morgan's number, and dialed.