Six years after donating my heart to my wife, she destroyed the last of my family.

Over those six years, she ended my mother’s treatment, letting her die slowly in agony.

She deliberately caused a car accident that shattered my father’s spine, forcing him to watch my mother die while trapped in a paralyzed body.

Even our daughter was not spared—locked away in a pitch-black basement, she starved to death alone.

She did all of this for one reason: to force me—the heartless, faithless man she believed I was—to reveal myself.

But during those six years, the love I once had for her turned into boundless hatred.

I refused to let my soul dissipate.

I stayed—waiting for the day she would learn the truth, and collapse under the weight of her regret.

My father stopped Winnie Sage in the middle of the road.

He dropped to his knees without hesitation, his entire body trembling as he bowed again and again.

"Winnie… Yvonne can't hold on much longer. I'm begging you… Please show mercy and let her go."

Inside the car, Winnie sat leisurely, slowly turning the ring on her ring finger.

"I can let her live. Just tell me where Andy Warren is," she said calmly.

My father's face drained of all color. His lips moved, but no words came out.

Winnie laughed mockingly.

"Your wife is on the brink of death, and you're still protecting your son. The Warren family really is just as disgusting as it was six years ago."

Flustered, my father stammered, "It's not like that. Andy, he…"

He must have wanted to tell her everything, but then, he remembered my final plea before I died, so he hesitated.

Winnie scoffed.

"Save your excuses. He's just a coward who doesn't dare to face me."

She added coolly, "That's fine. I'll force him out myself."

She glanced at the driver and said casually, "Drive."

The car roared forward.

My father was still kneeling on the ground. He had no time to dodge. His body was thrown into the air, then slammed violently onto the asphalt.

Blood splattered everywhere, staining the road red.

My vision went black.

"No!"

I rushed forward like a madman to lift my father, but it was useless.

From inside the car, Winnie looked down at his blood-soaked body with cold indifference.

"Even now, your son still won't show up. What a wuss.

"Don't worry. This is only the beginning. I'll make Andy understand the price of betraying me."

I collapsed beside my father, numb, kneeling there for a long time before whispering, "I didn't betray you…"

I did not disappear because I chose to. I disappeared because I was already dead.

Winnie and I had grown up together. We were childhood sweethearts.

Everyone said we were a perfect match, destined to be together, until six years ago.

The Sage family went bankrupt. Winnie's heart condition relapsed, and she lay unconscious in a hospital bed.

After she narrowly survived, what awaited her was news that I, her husband, had fallen in love with someone else and moved abroad.

My father stood by her hospital bed, looking down at her coldly.

"The Sage family is finished. You're no longer worthy of my son."

She could not accept it.

On a stormy night, rain pouring down, Winnie ran to my house, crying and begging to see me just once.

However, I never came.

None of us expected that in just five or six years, that battered girl would rise again, bringing the Sage family back from ruin.

She would then crush the Warren family beneath her feet.

After running my father down, Winnie went to the hospital.

In the ward lay my mother, Yvonne Warren. She had stopped treatment days ago and was barely clinging to life.

Winnie smiled, her expression filled with mockery.

"Isn't Andy supposed to be the most obedient son? Why hasn't he come to see you?"

My mother looked at Winnie with exhaustion and sorrow, then slowly closed her eyes.

That single gesture enraged Winnie.

She sneered and said, "Even if he hides forever, I'll still find him."

'You won't find me anymore, Winnie.'

Six years ago, I signed a heart donation agreement and closed my eyes forever.

'My heart now beats inside your chest.'

The very last thing I did before I died was kneel before my parents and beg them to keep that secret.

Winnie turned around and walked out of the hospital.

On the day the doctors issued the critical condition notice for my mother, she deliberately brought my father back to the ward one last time.

His spine had been shattered in a car accident long ago. Confined to a wheelchair, he could only stare helplessly through the glass at his wife struggling on the hospital bed.

They had grown up together, school uniforms to wedding gowns. They were lovers for an entire lifetime.

However, all my father could do was weep and beg.

"Please… Let me go in and see her one last time…"

Winnie crossed her arms and looked at him with thinly veiled amusement.

"Do you really think that's possible? Don't look at me with so much hatred. If you want to blame someone, blame Andy.

"If he had the guts to show himself, your wife wouldn't be dying, and you wouldn't be crippled. That precious son of yours… He's nothing but a selfish coward."

My father's eyes reddened, something inside them shattering completely.

Suddenly, the heart monitor let out a piercing alarm.

The red line that marked life flattened into a straight, merciless line.

My mother stopped struggling. Her bitter, absurd life finally came to an end.

"No!"

My father wailed, his grief breaking through at last.

He roared hoarsely, "Andy is already dead! How is a dead man supposed to come looking for you?!"

Winnie slapped him hard across the face as her eyes burned with vicious fury.

She sneered, "The Warren family really are a bunch of liars. You'd even make up something like that.

"Go tell Andy he has three days to kneel in front of me and apologize. Otherwise, I guarantee he'll never see his daughter again."

I thought my heart had long since gone numb, incapable of feeling anything.

However, hearing those words, my entire being trembled.

Six years as a wandering soul… I had almost forgotten.

My father stared at her in disbelief.

"Have you lost your mind? Winfrey is only six years old!"

When I first learned that Winnie was pregnant, I was so happy I could barely contain myself.

I flipped through dictionaries and poetry collections, searching for the perfect name. In the end, I told her that if it was a girl, we should call her Winfrey.

Winnie complained that daughters and mothers should not sound alike, but she could not hide the smile tugging at her lips.

However, after I betrayed her, every tender memory became evidence of my guilt.

The woman I fell in love with, the mistress, was named Fiona Lockhart.

I named the child I had with her Vinni Lockhart.

When Winnie realized that my love for her had long since rotted away, she came to hate Winfrey as well, especially since Winfrey began to resemble me more and more.

Just the thought of Winfrey's face made Winnie nauseous.

She abandoned my father and turned away without another glance.

Back at the Sage family villa, Desmond Doss greeted her with a smile.

He was her new boyfriend, the one who had beaten out countless others to enter her heart. He was the only comfort she had allowed herself over the past six years.

Guilt flickered across Desmond's face.

"Winfrey bullied Nix earlier, so I locked her in the basement. You won't blame me, will you?"

Nix was the puppy they had adopted together.

Winnie paused briefly, then waved it off.

"It's fine. She's so young and already that vicious, so she deserves to be taught a lesson.

"If she dies, so be it. Andy's wretched kid. I feel disgusted just looking at her."

Her eyes suddenly lit up.

"Perfect. I'll bring his old man over and make him watch the little witch die. Then he'll finally be willing to tell me where Andy is, right? That little wrench is Andy's biological daughter, after all."

My heart felt like it was being shredded to pieces.

I screamed soundlessly. 'Winnie, she's your child too!'

However, Winnie had already lost herself completely.

She left young Winfrey locked in the basement, starving for days, before finally dragging my father to the basement door.

She said coldly, "Your granddaughter is inside. Either your son comes crawling out, or you stand here and watch your granddaughter starve to death."

Soft, scraping sounds came from behind the door.

From where I stood, I could see through the small window a little girl, so thin she looked like nothing but skin and bones, collapsed beside the door.

With what little strength she had left, she clawed weakly at the wood, her movements slow and desperate.

Hunger had already stolen her voice. Even forcing her eyelids open took everything she had.

Starving to death was an unbearably cruel process, and yet, even then, her lips were still moving faintly.

It was clear that she was silently calling for her mother.

In her short six years of life, she had lived under Desmond's cruelty, under her own mother's hatred, and under a deep resentment toward a father she had never once met.

She was so small, and she had thought about it again and again, unable to understand.

Why did her mother not love her?

Outside the door, the father was still sobbing and begging, swearing and cursing, doing everything he could to convince Winnie that I was already dead.

Inside the basement, Winfrey had lost all signs of life.

Her eyes slowly closed.

A grief so violent it felt like a beast crashing into my skull overtook me. I screamed Winfrey's name at the top of my lungs, but nothing could bring her back.

It was as if my father sensed it.

His voice suddenly cut off.

Facing the tightly shut basement door, he let out a raw, meaningless howl that was painful, animalistic, utterly broken.

Winnie's expression finally shifted. Panic flickered in her eyes, and she ordered someone to open the door.

Winfrey's lifeless body came into view.

My father nearly lost his mind. He struggled to get out of his wheelchair, desperate to crawl over and hold her.

However, a crippled body could not complete such a movement.

He fell hard onto the ground.

Winnie's lips trembled, as if she were about to say something, but before she could, Desmond rushed in.

He let out an exaggerated cry.

"Winfrey is dead? I'm so sorry, Winnie. This is all my fault…"

Winnie instantly forgot the faint trace of grief she might have felt as a mother and moved to comfort him instead.

"It has nothing to do with you! That little witch should've died six years ago! Just thinking that I once had a child with Andy makes me sick!"

My father, sprawled on the floor, looked up at them with burning fury.

"Winnie, even tigers don't eat their own cubs! You're nothing but a monster!"

Winnie laughed in rage.

"I'm a monster? The real monster is Andy!

"I only wanted him to kneel before me and apologize, but he wouldn't show himself, no matter what!

"He's the one who killed your wife! He's the one who killed that little wretch!"

Every word she spoke carried bone-deep hatred toward me.

I collapsed to my knees, my entire body shaking.

Yes.

It was all my fault.

I was wrong to love Winnie. I was wrong to donate my heart to her.

If I had never given her my heart, if I had not staged that cruel performance just to make her forget me..,

None of that would have happened.

My father knew there was no turning back. Over and over, he whispered hoarsely, "Winnie… You will regret this…"

She grew irritated.

Her eyes shifted, and then she smiled.

"You think this is the end?

"I'm going to drag that little wrench's corpse out to feed the dogs. Let's see how long Andy, that coward, can endure it."

The father's face changed instantly.

Using both hands, he crawled toward Winfrey, clumsily trying to gather her emaciated body into his arms.

However, the security guards rushed forward, pulling him away without mercy.

Ignoring his desperate screams, they carried Winfrey's body off.