Kristina spoke in an even, measured tone. Her words were short and steady, yet the meaning behind them landed like a thunderclap.

The line fell silent for a few seconds. Then Mabel exploded in a furious stream of insults.

"Matthew is a shameless bastard. Doesn't he have even a shred of conscience? You gave up everything and spent three whole years looking after him, and the moment he's finally able to stand again, he runs straight back to some other woman? Honestly, if it hadn't been for you, there's no way he would've recovered that quickly."

The more Mabel talked, the angrier she became, her voice rising until it sharpened into a near screech.

"Alright, that's enough. Quit your ranting and get moving," Kristina urged.

Only then did Mabel finally stop talking, though the silence came with clear reluctance. A second later, warmth returned to her voice. "Okay, okay. I'll drive over and pick you up right now!" she said with a cheerful laugh.

Once the call ended, Kristina remained still for a moment.

The grief she had been pressing down kept creeping back up, and every so often, it threatened to drown her entirely.

After packing her belongings, she cast one last look around the room. Her eyes eventually settled on the photograph resting on the nightstand, the one she had cleaned so many times.

It showed Matthew from behind. He stood facing the light, his tall frame rigid and unbending.

That particular business deal had turned far more perilous than expected. She had been hurt, and when death was within reach, Matthew had pulled her back from the brink.

Later, once she had wrapped up her own affairs and decided to repay that life-saving debt, she discovered that he had been involved in a car crash that left him unable to walk.

Afterward, under the firm insistence of his grandmother, she agreed to marry him and remained by his side, tending to him day and night.

More than a thousand days had passed. What she felt by then was no longer simple gratitude; affection had quietly taken root as well. Otherwise, the pain wouldn't cut this deeply now.

Before long, the powerful rumble of a luxury SUV echoed from downstairs.

"Kristina, I'm here to get you."

Mabel had arrived with remarkable speed.

Kristina forced down the lingering sorrow in her eyes, lifted her suitcase, and hurried downstairs before climbing into the car.

With a clean turn of the wheel, Mabel swung the vehicle around and sped away smoothly, leaving the mansion far behind.

Yet the ache in Kristina's chest refused to settle.

"Oh, wait. Take me to the Cooper estate first," she said.

Back then, while Matthew had been in fragile health, his mother, Kacie Cooper, had taken Kristina's identification documents and handled the process of registering their marriage. The certificate had been locked inside the family safe ever since.

Now Kristina had to retrieve it so she could complete the divorce with Matthew and finally end this marriage that existed only on paper.

It was already deep into the night. Instead of entering through the front door, she climbed through a window and slipped quietly into Kacie's room.

The bedroom was dark. Kacie lay asleep on the bed, her breathing slow and steady.

Kristina silently opened the safe. Inside were property documents and share certificates, and at the very bottom rested the marriage certificate bearing her name and Matthew's.

Everything went smoothly. She took the document and slipped back out to the car without disturbing a single person.

Sitting in the vehicle, she lifted the certificate resting on her lap and glanced down at it. Suddenly, she went still.

The husband's name printed on the certificate wasn't Matthew at all. It was Braeden Cooper, Matthew's uncle.

Braeden was the illegitimate son of Matthew's grandfather, Frank Cooper, conceived when Frank had already reached the age of fifty-four. Actually, Braeden was merely three years older than Matthew.

His standing within the Cooper family had always been painfully uncomfortable, and the family regarded him as nothing short of a stain on their reputation.

Although Frank had formally recognized him and taken him back into the family, the rest of the family refused to welcome him.

After Frank died, Braeden and his mother were forced to relocate to the city's outer edges, forbidden from showing their faces in public.

Kristina had never imagined that her lawful husband would be Braeden.

She heard that Braeden had spent the past few years overseas, working on building his career.

That meant if she wanted to end the marriage, she would have to travel abroad to track him down.

Noticing the pensive expression settling on her face, Mabel lost her composure. "Kristina, you're not still hung up on that bastard, are you? He's just one pathetic excuse for a man. You don't need to ruin your entire life over someone like him. There are plenty of better guys out there. Dumping a jerk like that should be reason enough to celebrate. I'm booking eight male escorts for you tonight so you can properly enjoy the perks of being a rich single woman!"

Kristina abruptly came back to her senses.

Since Matthew wasn't her husband at all, she was in no hurry to divorce.

She tucked the marriage certificate away, then casually propped her chin against one hand and turned to look at Mabel. The warmth that had lingered in her gaze disappeared, replaced by something colder and far more rebellious.

"Make sure every single one of them has eight-pack abs," she said coolly. "Otherwise, I'm not interested."

Mabel finally let out a breath and spun the steering wheel with a sharp motion. "Now that's more like it," she replied with a grin.

At seven in the evening, Kristina walked into Club Prism dressed in a black, ultra-short bodycon skirt, a cropped white blouse trimmed with ruffles and pulled tight at the waist, and a pair of studded lambskin ankle boots.

The top three buttons of her blouse were deliberately left undone, tracing the graceful curve of her chest.

A black choker circled her neck, making her smooth skin stand out even more.

Mabel, on the other hand, wore a red spaghetti-strap dress that made her look fiery and alluring.

The instant the two women stepped inside, they attracted countless hungry gazes from the men nearby.

Mabel guided Kristina straight toward one of the best booths on the first floor and beckoned the manager over, a premium membership card held between her fingers. "Bring me eight of your best male escorts," she instructed.

The manager glanced at the exclusive card, nodded at once, and hurried away to make the arrangements.

Kristina uncorked a bottle of liquor and took a small sip. As the music pulsed around her, she let her body sway lightly with the rhythm, finally allowing herself to loosen up after three years of holding everything in.

The attention fixed on her never faded.

A burly man draped in a chunky gold chain sauntered over, lazily spinning his car keys, and plopped down beside Kristina.

"Hey there, beautiful. Why waste time calling for male escorts? I could keep you entertained just fine," he drawled, his hungry gaze sliding straight toward her chest.

Before he could take in the sight properly, an ashtray suddenly hurtled toward him.

"Get out of here!" Mabel snapped. She hadn't aimed for his skull. Instead, the ashtray sliced through the air between his legs, a clear warning rather than a strike.

The man, Alec Hall, was a familiar face in the criminal underworld, and he clearly didn't regard the two pretty women as any sort of threat.

With a casual flick of his hand, several bodyguards dressed in black closed in and surrounded the booth.

Grinning obscenely, he tugged his belt free and sneered, "Listen carefully, ladies. Be obedient, and I promise I'll be gentle. Otherwise, you'll be groveling beneath me."

He even gave his thick waist a cocky thrust and stretched out a grimy hand toward Kristina.

But before his fingers could brush her, Kristina slipped aside as lightly as air and deftly twisted his belt into a tight knot.

She jerked it so sharply that Alec's mouth flew open with a pained gasp.

With a faint smile still resting on her lips, she chopped her hand down in a swift strike, sending the car keys flying from his grip while splitting his lip at the same time. "Close that filthy mouth."

The bodyguards surged forward immediately.

Kristina snatched a bottle from the table and smashed it across one man's head.

At the same moment, Mabel pivoted and drove a kick into another guard's neck, sending him sprawling hard onto the floor.

Alec finally coughed up the car keys he had bitten down on. His face burned crimson as he began shouting angrily, "Call more men over here! I'm not letting these two bitches walk away tonight!"

Up on the third floor, inside a private booth, someone let out a quiet exclamation.

"Hey, Braeden, doesn't that woman look a lot like Matthew's wife? But the whole aura is different. There's no way that's Kristina, that stay-at-home wife. Just look at her figure and those moves. She's dropping those guys like it's nothing."

Seated across from him in an armchair, Braeden slowly turned his head. In the dim lighting, his gaze settled on Kristina.

At that moment, she moved with the lethal grace of a hunting predator, and as she shifted, a sliver of her slim waist flashed into view.

His friend, Cristian Watson, clicked his tongue. "Things are getting intense over there. Two women against that many men. Braeden, this is your territory. Aren't you going to step in like some hero and rescue them?"

Right then, Alec suddenly pulled a dagger from his pocket and, using the chaos as cover, lunged toward Kristina's back.

Braeden's half-lowered eyes snapped fully open, a dangerous glint flashing through them.

As he rose abruptly to his feet, he grabbed the knife on the table, its blade glimmering coldly between his fingers with a deadly sheen.

Before the knife could even be hurled, Kristina reacted as though she had already anticipated it.

Her leg lashed out in a sharp, fluid motion; Alec's wrist was knocked downward, and his hand was forced firmly against the couch. The blade slipped free and struck the floor with a hard clatter.

Without hesitation, she seized the bottle and brought it crashing down onto his skull. The shattered glass left a jagged, blood-smeared edge that she pressed straight against his thick neck.

Her stunning face held the chill of a death angel. "Are you looking to die?"

The instant the question left her lips, a furious voice erupted behind her. "Kristina? Stop it!"

Matthew emerged from the private room across the corridor, still reeling from the brutal scene he had just witnessed.

Was that really Kristina?

Once the shock settled, his gaze dropped to her smooth thigh, and an unexplainable irritation flared in his eyes. "Why did you come somewhere like this? What kind of trouble are you stirring up? Let him go."

Kristina turned toward him. During the struggle, her clothes had been slightly torn, exposing part of her shoulder. A smear of blood stained her skin, the stark contrast making it even more striking.

Not a trace remained of the gentle, virtuous housewife she once appeared to be.

Matthew was even more infuriated and wanted to scold Kristina further, but Mabel cut him off. "Matthew, you only showed up once everything was finished. How convenient."

Only then did Matthew notice that the woman fighting alongside Kristina was none other than Mabel Davies. The Davies family was one of the four powerful ones in Ouverpus.

Kristina, a woman whose life had once revolved around cooking and housework, actually knew someone from the Davies family?

And had Mabel just shown her those moves right there on the spot? Kristina had executed them almost flawlessly.

"Uncle Alec?" At that moment, Zoe rushed out from behind Matthew and hurried over, anxiously reaching for Alec, whose wrist had been held down by Kristina. "Kristina, what are you doing? Let go of my uncle."

Kristina was caught off guard, and in that brief lapse of focus, Alec managed to jerk himself free. "Zoe, this woman's completely insane."

Zoe helped him stand, and the moment her hands touched him, they were instantly smeared with blood. Even the pristine white of her dress quickly turned red, making the injury appear even more alarming.

Matthew's brows drew together tightly. "Kristina, why aren't you at home at this hour? All you ever do is create problems. Go back home now."

Mabel was about to explain what had actually happened when Zoe cut in, her voice trembling, "Matthew, my uncle is seriously injured. We have to take him to the hospital."

A thought crossed Alec's mind. He let out a dramatic groan and allowed his heavy body to slump toward the floor.

Matthew's expression turned serious. He stepped forward at once and personally helped Alec to his feet. "Hang on. I'll take you to the hospital right now."

Most of Alec's weight leaned against him. The proud young heir of the Cooper family now looked thoughtful and considerate, patiently supporting Alec.

He never once asked what had caused the fight, nor did he ask whether Kristina had been hurt.

Instead, he gently reminded Zoe to watch out for the broken glass scattered across the floor.

He treated Kristina as though she did not exist while showing Zoe obvious concern.

Mabel planted her hands on her waist in anger. "Just look at him. What kind of man behaves like that? You might as well put a bullet in that bastard and send him straight to hell."

Kristina merely watched the group as they walked away, her gaze steady and calm. "Let them go. People who don't matter anymore aren't worth ruining our mood."

The manager quickly arranged for the mess to be cleaned up, and before long, fresh drinks were brought out again.

The eight male escorts Mabel had ordered lined up neatly in a row.

The music started again, and the lively energy of the place returned almost immediately.

In the private lounge on the third floor, Cristian slapped his hands together and laughed. "So that was really Kristina. I've crossed paths with her a few times before. Always seemed dull as dirt. Never guessed she had that kind of temper when nobody's watching. And those strikes were clean and merciless. Nothing like the quiet woman I remembered. But Braeden, your nephew's really something else. His wife got harassed and he didn't even defend her; instead, he sided with the asshole and scolded her. No wonder she ran off to a bar to blow off some steam."

Braeden lounged back as his gaze drifted lazily toward the scene below, a faint trace of dark amusement flickering in his eyes.