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.

Kristina lounged on the velvet couch, relaxed and unbothered, a circle of male escorts around her as she drank without restraint.

During the past three years, she had already settled every obligation she once owed Matthew. If he ever tried to order her around again, she would make certain he paid dearly for it.

A male escort wearing a translucent black shirt knelt between her thighs and held up a glass of wine for her.

Kristina only tilted the rim with a playful flick, letting the wine spill straight into his mouth instead.

The liquor splashed across the front of his shirt, soaking the thin fabric until it clung to his chest and traced the firm lines of his well-built muscles.

Mabel burst into laughter, her whole body shaking with it. "What do you think of this one, Kristina? Big enough to suit your taste?"

Kristina lifted a finger and tapped the man's quivering chest, nudging him aside. "I'd rather have someone a little more innocent."

That remark only made Mabel laugh harder, as though the two of them had slipped right back into their old carefree days.

She caught hold of a young man who looked barely out of college and pushed him toward Kristina. "This one has to be a virgin."

The man staggered forward and brushed against Kristina's leg by accident, then hurriedly straightened up with his face burning red.

His looks were fresh and striking, carrying the softness of youth.

His wide, moist eyes held a gentle warmth, paired with a shy and hesitant expression.

Kristina had already knocked back several glasses of strong liquor. Her gaze turned hazy as she cupped the guy's chin and studied his face more closely.

Through the blur clouding her sight, his face seemed somewhat like Matthew's, yet there was a depth of feeling in his eyes that Matthew had never once shown her.

Memories flooded back, and the ache she believed had faded suddenly surfaced again.

Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, he asked softly, "Miss, would you like to spend the night with me?"

For a moment, it sounded exactly like Matthew speaking to her.

Kristina abruptly seized the back of his head, her beautiful face moving close in an instant until their noses nearly touched.

A strange heat rushed through her body, and an uncontrollable desire surged upward.

Realizing something was wrong, she quickly let him go and headed straight for the restroom.

She splashed cold water over her face, yet the restless heat inside her only intensified, almost swallowing her whole.

With irritation, she tugged at the collar of her shirt until the buttons nearly sprang loose.

A black camisole hugged tightly against the full curve of her breasts beneath the fabric.

When she turned around, she collided with a solid chest.

A faint woody fragrance mixed with a cool, crisp scent drifted toward her. It seemed to calm the restless desire in her body, yet at the same time, it stirred an even stronger one.

Her control nearly shattered in a single instant.

She eagerly slipped her arms around the man's neck. Her drunken, half-closed eyes could not see his face clearly; she only sensed that his features reminded her faintly of Matthew's.

She assumed he was the male escort who had been asking her to book him for the night. He really was stubborn.

Her red lips curved faintly. Her cool fingertips traced along the man's jaw before settling at his Adam's apple, brushing over it lightly. "I'll book you for the whole night. Show me what you can do."

As she spoke, her hand grew increasingly bold. No longer content to toy with his throat, it slid down across his chest and drifted lower toward his waist.

But a large hand, its palm rough with faint calluses, caught hold of her wrist.

"Are you certain you want to book me?"

The man's voice was deep and husky, nothing like the clear tone she had heard earlier at the booth.

Kristina gave a faint shake of her head, though her vision remained blurred. As she tried to pull her hand away, it accidentally brushed between the man's legs.

She broke into laughter.

"So a man's voice changes when he's excited," she murmured. "It actually sounds pretty good."

Before the last word left her lips, she lifted onto her toes and pressed a kiss against his Adam's apple, licking it recklessly.

A muffled groan escaped the man as desire stirred within him.

In the next second, he simply scooped her up and walked away.

From the elevator ride to the top-floor suite, they kissed as if they were both drunk on each other. By the time they staggered into the bedroom, most of their clothes had already been torn away.

Kristina's desire burned fiercely. She shoved him hard against the door, ripped open the belt that stood in her way, and wrapped one long leg around his waist.

The following morning, Kristina woke with a dry throat. She pushed herself upright with effort, intent on getting a glass of water.

A dull soreness lingered through her back and limbs, and fragments of the night before surged back into her thoughts.

She faintly remembered climbing onto a man and tugging off his clothes, only for him to lift her up and drop her straight into the bathtub.

Water had splashed across her body, cool and invigorating.

Pressing her fingers to her temple, Kristina hesitated to acknowledge the truth that she had spent the night with a male escort.

In her mind, the man's face gradually came into focus, stirring an odd sense of recognition.

Still, she had no luxury to dwell on it. The smartest move now was to leave at once.

The outfit she had worn the previous night was no longer suitable, so she pulled the blanket around herself, planning to locate a robe.

The moment her feet touched the floor, the door swung open.

A man stepped inside, a paper bag held in his hand.

Clad in an impeccably tailored suit, he carried himself with effortless poise and command, entirely unlike the sort of male escort who lingered in nightclubs and survived by sleeping with clients.

"You're awake." His gaze rested on her for a brief moment, and his voice emerged low, calm, and faintly alluring. "I brought fresh clothes. They've already been washed and dried. Change into them."

He placed the paper bag beside the bed and, without pausing, turned and walked out of the room.

Those few seconds were enough for Kristina to recognize the familiar face. Braeden.

In the family photograph taken at the Cooper estate, he had stood at the outermost edge, yet he remained the most striking and unforgettable figure in the entire portrait.

So the man she had slept with the previous night had not been a male escort but Braeden instead?

The realization only made the situation more difficult for her to accept.

She wanted no further connection with anyone from the Cooper family.

Inside the paper bag lay a simple dress along with a set of underwear.

To her surprise, the size suited her perfectly.

She dressed quickly. When she opened the door and stepped outside, she saw Braeden seated in the living room, casually scrolling through something on his tablet.

Soft morning light settled over his sharply defined features, outlining the hard angle of his jaw. His appearance was strikingly attractive and undeniably sensual, yet a faint aura of danger lingered around him.

On the gentle rise of his Adam's apple, the bite marks remained clearly visible, tinted red, their contrast oddly vivid.

"Braeden..." she greeted in a low voice.

His eyes darkened slightly, and a faint, unreadable smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "So you recognized me?"

Kristina nodded, then hurriedly shook her head. "Last night, I didn't know it was you."

She quickly added, "I was drunk. It was only an accident. We're both adults, after all. There's no need to make a big deal out of it."

Braeden leaned back against the couch. Although his posture appeared loose and unrestrained, an indefinable presence around him made others feel uneasy.

"You're surprisingly broad-minded," he teased. "You slept with your husband's uncle, yet you behaved as though nothing occurred."

For the first time, Kristina found herself unable to decipher someone's thoughts or intentions. A trace of coldness settled over her expression.

"I'm already preparing to divorce Matthew..."

Kristina stopped there. The lingering fog from her hangover finally lifted from her mind.

Only then did she realize the man she had truly married was Braeden.

A trace of warmth returned to her gaze; the purpose behind it was perfectly clear.

"What happened last night will stay between us. No one else will hear a word," she said quickly. "But there's something I need you to agree to."

Her abrupt shift in tone made his brows knit faintly together. "Go ahead," he replied.

"Please come to the courthouse at three this afternoon. I'll be waiting there."

Once the words left her mouth, she gave him no opportunity to refuse. Lifting the edge of her dress, she rushed out of the room.

The moment she stepped out of the hotel, her phone rang. Mabel was calling.

"Kristina, where did you disappear to last night? I kept calling you, but you never answered. All I got was a message saying you were leaving. Didn't any of those eight escorts catch your interest?"

Kristina glanced at her phone and confirmed that she had indeed sent a reply, though the details escaped her memory. She dismissed the matter with a vague response.

Mabel had her own concerns and did not pursue the subject. "Can you come to Wellness Hospital? There's a complicated patient here, and the specialists we brought in can't manage it. The family is already causing a commotion."

Wellness Hospital belonged to Kristina, though Mabel had been in charge of running it for the past three years. If it were not something she truly could not resolve, she would never have disturbed Kristina.

"Alright. I'll be there in fifteen minutes," Kristina answered.

After three years, Kristina finally slipped back into surgical scrubs, and an unfamiliar ease settled over her, as though she had finally stepped back into her true self.

The operation lasted two hours, and everything went flawlessly.

Once it ended, Kristina quietly left through the side exit.

Mabel, who had observed the entire procedure through the video feed, lifted her thumb in praise. "Looks like you haven't lost your edge at all, Mr. Kirk. You're still a brilliant physician."

Kristina shot her a glance. "Cut the Kristina cast her a sideways look. "Enough with the compliments. When did I ever lose my edge?"

"Never!" Mabel laughed, looping her arm through Kristina's and blinking at her with playful mischief. "There's another thing. Someone posted an offer on the internal network—fifty million for Mr. Kirk to perform a heart surgery. Want to guess who it is?"

For three years of marriage, Kristina had poured all her effort into being the perfect wife.

During that time, the identity she used as the doctor known as "Mr. Kirk" had long been inactive.

Now that she had returned, the dealings on the internal network would naturally resume as well.

"Who?" Kristina asked.

"Matthew!"