Time passed slowly; every second was torture. It wasn't until that rainy night that Alexander returned.

He was carrying a blood-soaked Elena. She wasn't actually hurt that badly—just a knife wound on her leg.

It looked gory and shocking, but I could tell at a glance that it missed any major arteries.

Alexander radiated a violent aura. After handing Elena over to the doctor, he turned to me.

"Take her to the torture chamber," he ordered the bodyguards coldly.

I was forced to my knees on the cold stone floor by two burly enforcers.

A short while later, Elena, her wound dressed, limped out, leaning weakly against Alexander’s chest.

"Don... don't blame Ivy. Maybe I accidentally offended her..." She wept beautifully, like a pear blossom bathed in rain.

Alexander looked at her with heartache, then turned his gaze to me. His eyes held only cold judgment.

"According to Omertà and family rules: those who harm a comrade or collude with enemies face the whip."

He took a leather whip soaked in saltwater from the wall and threw it at Elena’s feet.

"Since you were the one who suffered, you take the revenge yourself."

I looked up at him in shock. "Alexander, you’re going to use the whip on me for this lying woman?"

That was an instrument used to punish traitors. A single lash could tear skin and flesh.

Alexander avoided my gaze, his voice stiff but cruel. "This is to teach you a lesson. You did something wrong, and you have to pay the price."

"Ivy, just bear it. Let her vent her anger, and we can put this behind us."

Elena shakily picked up the whip, looking at me with feigned fear. "I... I don't dare... I've never hit anyone..."

Alexander held her hand, encouraging her softly. "Don't be afraid. I'm here. She owes you this."

A vicious glint flashed in Elena’s eyes.

The next second, she raised the whip and brought it down on my back with all her strength.

Crack!

Agonizing pain exploded instantly. My clothes tore, and my flesh split open. I gritted my teeth and didn't make a sound.

"Oh no, my hand slipped... sorry, Ivy..." Elena apologized with her mouth, but her strikes got harder and harder.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Every lash carried the thrill of revenge.

Alexander stood to the side, watching my pale face and the blood seeping through my back. His hands, hanging by his sides, were clenched into tight fists.

A look of struggle and reluctance flashed in his eyes; he seemed to want to call a stop.

But seeing the gauze on Elena’s leg, he forced himself to hold back.

"It’s a lesson, Ivy. Don't touch my people again," he said coldly, as if trying to convince himself.

Cold sweat poured down my face from the pain, and my vision blurred, but I kept my back straight and stared dead at Alexander.

In that moment, all the love I had for this man was whipped into dust, lash by lash.

When Elena finally got tired, she stopped, panting.

Alexander immediately stepped forward to hold her, asking gently, "Do you feel better now?"

Elena nodded weakly and buried her face in his chest. "The Don is so good to me."

Lying on the ground, watching their embracing silhouettes, I suddenly let out a low laugh.

"Alexander, you’re going to regret this."

Alexander glanced at me lying in a pool of blood, a flicker of heartache in his eyes, and ordered someone to bring the medical kit.

He picked me up and gently placed me on the bed, trying to apply medicine to my wounds, his brow furrowed in frustration. "Have you had enough? Do you realize you were wrong?"

The sheer arrogance of his charitable concern made my stomach churn.

"Don't touch me."

I yanked my hand back and looked at him with dead eyes.

Alexander lost his patience and slammed the medical kit onto the table. "Ivy! How long are you going to be this willful? I already told you, Elena will never threaten your position. What more do you want? Do I have to rip my heart out for you to see?"

"Heart?" I asked, as if I’d heard a joke. "Do you even have one?"

Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the Glock 17 tucked into his waistband.

In that instant, the hatred I had suppressed for so long erupted like a volcano.

Since he called me vicious, since he said I couldn't tolerate that woman, I decided to make the accusation stick!

I lunged without warning, moving as fast as a cheetah, and snatched the service pistol from his waist.

Alexander’s face changed drastically. "Ivy! Put the gun down!"

I ignored him completely. I flipped the gun around, gripping the barrel, and smashed the heavy pistol butt ruthlessly onto the head of Elena, who was still feigning weakness beside him!

"Ah—!"

Elena screamed as I tackled her to the ground.

I straddled her, acting like a maniac, and smashed the pistol butt into her forehead and cheeks again and again.

"Didn't you say I wanted to hurt you? Since you want me to be the villain so badly, I'll grant your wish!"

Blood instantly splattered onto my face. Elena didn't even have time to call for help; she could only whimper in pain.

"Stop it! You crazy bitch!"

Just as I had vented my anger and was aiming the gun at Elena to shoot, Alexander roared in terror. He rushed over and grabbed my wrist, his immense strength flipping me off Elena.

Bang!

My back slammed hard against the solid marble wall. It felt like my internal organs had shifted, and the taste of iron rose in my throat.

"Pfft—"

I couldn't hold it back and spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, staining the white carpet red.

But Alexander didn't even glance at me.

He panic-strickenly scooped up the unconscious, blood-covered Elena, his voice trembling. "Elena! Wake up! Prepare the car! Get the car to the hospital, now!"

He rushed out the door with that woman in his arms. As he passed me, he paused for a second, leaving behind a bone-chilling sentence:

"If she doesn't wake up, Ivy, I will bury you with her."

I slumped on the floor, wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth, stared at the empty doorway, and laughed until tears streamed down my face.

It didn't matter. Only three days left.

I didn't know why, but a sharp pain flared in my lower abdomen again, and I fainted in a daze.

At 3:00 AM, the villa’s front door was kicked open again.

Alexander rushed in, bringing with him the chill of the night and the smell of blood, followed by two family doctors in white coats.

His eyes were bloodshot, like a cornered beast. He stormed over and yanked me out of bed.

"Come with me."

My whole body ached, and I barely processed what was happening. "Where? Let me go!"

"Elena lost too much blood and went into shock. The blood bank is out of Rh-negative blood. You have the same blood type. Only you can save her."

His voice was cold, issuing the command as if it were his right.

I looked at him in disbelief, struggling desperately, my nails digging deep into his arm.

"I won't go! Why should I save my enemy? Alexander, are you a devil?"

"Besides, I don't feel well... my stomach hurts, I can't give blood..."

I cried and screamed, trying to awaken the last shred of his humanity. My lower abdomen had been aching for days, and my intuition told me something was wrong with my body. I couldn't take any more trauma.

Alexander turned a deaf ear to my pleas. He coldly gripped my chin.

"Elena only hit your back a few times; how could your stomach hurt? Ivy, you’d make up such an excuse just to avoid saving a life?"

"Taking a little blood won't kill you! Elena has old injuries because she saved me. If she dies tonight, you are a murderer!"

He forcibly pinned me down on the single sofa in the bedroom and signaled the doctors behind him.

"Do it. Draw until you have enough."

"No! Don't! Alexander, please... you'll regret this..."

I screamed in despair, watching the doctor approach with a thick needle.

Two bodyguards held my shoulders down, making it impossible to move.

The cold needle pierced my vein.

Alexander stood to the side, lit a cigarette, and watched impatiently as the blood bag filled up bit by bit. His eyes were glued to the vital signs monitor on his phone; he didn't even spare me a glance.

I watched the crimson liquid flow away through the tube. The dragging pain in my lower abdomen grew more intense, gradually turning into a tearing agony.

When I woke up again, I was lying in a VIP ward at the hospital.

The pungent smell of disinfectant made me feel a bit dazed.

Alexander was sitting by the bed. Seeing me open my eyes, a complex emotion flashed across his face—perhaps guilt, perhaps relief.

"You're awake? The nurse said you're just a bit anemic. You'll be fine after a few days of rest."

He reached out to tuck in the corner of my blanket, his movements stiff. "Last night... it was an emergency. My attitude was poor. I owe you one. I'll make it up to you."

Make it up to me?

I was about to sneer when his phone rang.

It was Elena’s custom ringtone.

His expression changed instantly. He answered the call, his tone gentle, like a completely different person. "Don't be scared, I'm right next door... Okay, I'm coming right now."

He hung up and didn't even look at me, hastily leaving a "I have urgent business" before turning to leave.

The moment the door closed, my attending physician walked in.

He took off his mask and looked at me solemnly. "Miss Ivy, I regret to inform you."

"You were pregnant, about five weeks along."

"But due to the excessive blood loss last night, combined with the previous physical trauma and severe emotional distress... the baby couldn't be saved."

"This is the consent form for the D&C procedure. It requires a family member's signature."

Boom—

My mind went blank.

Although I had a premonition, hearing the definitive news felt like a piece of my heart had been gouged out.

I subconsciously touched my flat stomach.

A little life had once grown there. It was Alexander’s child.

But that man had killed him with his own hands.

Tears rolled down silently, yet I laughed out loud—a shrill, desperate laugh.

"It’s okay, Doctor." I took the consent form, signed my name with a trembling hand, my voice strangely calm. "No family signature needed."

"This child... it's good he didn't come. He shouldn't have a father like that."

I took a black centurion card from my bag and slid it to the doctor.

"Do me a favor. Seal this information."

"Tell everyone I was hospitalized for stress-induced gastric bleeding. I don't want anyone to know about this child's existence, especially that man."

I stayed in the hospital for three days.

During those three days, Alexander didn't visit me once. I heard he was with Elena the entire time.

Rumor had it that because of this "injury" and her previous "meritorious service," Alexander even promised Elena shares in the family business to comfort her.

How ironic.

My phone vibrated. It was an encrypted message:

[ Princess, everything you asked for is here. The private flight route has been approved. The Rainier Family’s jet is waiting for you on the tarmac. ]

Immediately after, an encrypted file was transferred.

It was the irrefutable evidence uncovered by the Rainier family’s intelligence network—details on how Elena colluded with rival families, as well as all the planning recordings and bank transfer records for the shooting six months ago that made her a "savior."

Expressionless, I clicked forward. The recipient was Alexander’s mother, the true donna who tolerated absolutely no betrayal.

Elena wanted to be the Don’s wife, didn't she? I wanted to see if she could survive tomorrow once faced with ironclad proof of her treachery.

After doing all this, I didn't hesitate to pull the IV needle from the back of my hand. Blood gushed out, but I felt no pain.

I changed into a black trench coat and returned one last time to the study in the place I once called "home."

I placed the signed "Declaration of Secession from the Family" and the divorce papers squarely in the center of Alexander’s desk.

Then, with trembling hands, I took out the crumpled ultrasound slip from my pocket.

The doctor had given it to me before the surgery; it showed only a blurry little black dot.

I tore it in half and placed the pieces under the divorce papers.

Alexander, the game is over.

I pulled up my hood to cover my pale face, turned around, and boarded the private jet.