The moment my day of servitude ended, I stood in Jeffrey's study.

"The day is over. Where's the ship?"

Jeffrey looked at my subdued, obedient posture, seeming pleased with the results of his training.

Right in front of me, he made a call.

"Activate Route B. Go extract Jaxon. Coordinates are sent."

He put it on speaker.

A respectful voice answered, "Understood, Mr. Tucker. Departing immediately."

The tension that had coiled inside me for a full day finally began to unwind.

I endured the humiliation, the torture. If it saved my brother, it was worth it.

"Thank you."

I choked out the words, then stumbled out of the room.

I had to get to the docks. I had to see Jaxon safe with my own eyes.

However, what I didn't know was that as soon as I rushed out of the villa's gate, the last trace of false warmth vanished from Jeffrey's face.

A cold, calculating look settled in his eyes. He picked up his phone again and dialed a different number.

A number that belonged to the Black Sharks, the Smith family's deadliest rivals.

"I've sent you Jaxon's location. Make it clean. No traces."

Jeffrey watched my retreating figure from the window, a cruel smile touching his lips.

"Once Jaxon is gone, she'll have no one left in this world but me. A tiger with its claws pulled out... will have no choice but to be my pretty little bird in a cage."

When I reached the docks, the Tucker ship wasn't there.

A cold dread began to seep into my gut.

Then, the TV screen in the waiting area blared with breaking news.

"Breaking News: Major explosion in Border Zone B. An abandoned warehouse, site of an apparent gang shootout. No survivors reported. Police indicate one of the deceased is suspected to be a Smith, alleged head of a local syndicate."

In that instant, my blood turned to ice in my veins.

My phone vibrated.

It was a delayed voice message.

My fingers trembled so badly I could barely tap it open.

The background was filled with the sounds of gunfire and explosions. Jaxon's voice was faint, ragged, each word a struggle.

"Jeffrey… it was Jeffrey… he sold me out… He gave my location to Black Shark... Don't trust him... Live... you have to live..."

Boom!

The voice abruptly ended with a massive explosion.

The phone slipped from my hand.

Like a ghost, I drifted back to the Tucker villa.

Jeffrey was still on the sofa, sipping coffee. He looked surprised to see me.

"Back so soon? Didn't the ship pick him up?"

I walked towards him, step by step.

"Jeffrey, my brother is dead."

His hand paused mid-sip. Then, calmly, he set the cup down.

"Is that so? What a pity. I guess it was his fate. Your brother lived a violent life. Maybe the universe just collected its debt. In a way, Cynthia, this is for the best. Now you can start fresh. Be my secret lover, properly."

I stared at the man I once loved, the man I thought I'd spend my life with.

He was a stranger.

I grabbed the fruit knife from the coffee table.

Jeffrey's face paled. He stepped back. "Cynthia! Have you lost your mind? Murder is illegal!"

I desperately lunged at him, but was pinned to the ground by the arriving bodyguards.

"Jeffrey, you killed the only family I had in this world. You'd better kill me, or you'll regret it."

He ordered the bodyguards to hold me down.

"Lock her in the room on the second floor. Board up the windows. No one lets her out without my say-so!"

Jeffrey imprisoned me. He took my phone, cut the internet.

After my brother died, a part of me died too.

I sat in the dim room for days, refusing food, refusing water.

Jeffrey would occasionally visit me.

"Cynthia, be good. Your enemies are everywhere out there. Only here are you safe. I have to give Maisie the title. For the child's sake. But my heart is only ever been yours. From now on, just stay obediently in the villa. I'll take care of you for the rest of your life."

Looking at his devoted face, I felt nothing but nausea.

I wanted to live. I wanted to live carrying my brother's last wishes.

I stopped resisting and became compliant.

Jeffrey was pleased. He thought I'd finally accepted my fate.

To boost the Tucker Group's stock, Jeffrey announced a high-profile, lavish wedding to Maisie.

On the eve of the wedding, I clutched Jeffrey's coat, humbly begging him.

"I agree to be your lover, but I want my phone back. It has photos of my brother, and I want to keep them as a memento."

Jeffrey, softened by my meekness, tossed the phone to me.

Late at night, I found a blind spot in the security cameras and picked up a weak, unsecured Wi-Fi signal from a neighboring estate.

I input a string of long-buried codes.

It was my brother's last trump card left for me.

"Queen is awake. Coordinates: Boland, Tucker wedding venue. Cover my extraction. All units, assemble."

Three seconds later, the screen lit up.

"Received, Queen."

I wiped all traces, then looked out the window at the cold moon, a frosty smile curling my lips.

On the day of the wedding, the scene was set on a cliffside lawn, with dignitaries gathered and flowers scattered on the ground.

Maisie, in a custom gown that cost more than a house, swept into the dressing room.

She shooed everyone else out. Leaning close, her breath hot and hateful in my ear, she whispered, "I heard they couldn't even find a whole piece of your brother's body after the explosion. Today is the day your beloved man marries me. We'll use all this happy energy to mourn that deadbeat."

I turned to look at Maisie.

"Yes, indeed, he deserves a proper tribute."

The wedding began.

The priest recited the vows.

Maisie and Jeffrey were about to exchange rings when a loud explosion echoed from afar!

Boom!

The luxury yachts docked nearby erupted in a chain reaction of fireballs.

Following this, the manor's power system suddenly went offline, and the alarm sounded loudly.

"What's happening?"

"There's a fire! Run!"

Guests screamed, scrambling in panic.

Bodyguards frantically shielded Jeffrey and Maisie, retreating backward.

During the chaos, I ran toward the cliff edge.

"Cynthia! What are you doing! Come back!"

Jeffrey noticed me first, shouting in terror as he shoved Maisie aside and rushed toward me.

I stood outside the railing at the cliff's edge.

The turbulent deep sea stretched out behind me.

I watched Jeffrey run toward me, a smile of final liberation on my face.

"Jeffrey, if there's a next life, I never want to meet you again."

As Jeffrey let out a soul-shattering scream, I dove into the abyss without a second thought.

Jeffrey fell to the cliff's edge, shouting helplessly into the void.

But below, hidden in the cliff's shadow, a small, sleek submersible was waiting. It caught me seamlessly.

I took the black trench coat offered by a crew member, shrugging it on, wiping the saltwater from my face.

I turned to the man beside me. He was Caleb Jackson, Jeffrey's biggest business rival, and an old acquaintance of Jaxon's.

I gave the order coldly. "Set sail. From now on, call me Queen."

Jeffrey had lost his mind.

He searched at the foot of the cliff for seven whole days and nights.

He used all of the Tucker family's connections and even hired over a dozen professional search teams.

He was determined to find me, dead or alive.

But the vast ocean yielded nothing except the shoes by the shore.

The police ultimately concluded: Cynthia Smith was most likely dead, her body lost to the sea.

That grand, century-wedding became the laughingstock of all Boland.

Maisie stood disheveled in the wind in her wedding gown.

Jeffrey did not even glance at her and directly canceled all subsequent ceremonies.

He shut himself in the villa all day, drowning his sorrows with alcohol while clutching my shoes.

"Cynthia… come back… I won't force you anymore…"

"As long as you're alive, I'll listen to everything you say…"

He cried like a baby.

Meanwhile, on a private island in Southland, the sun was blinding.

I lay on the hospital bed, receiving the best possible treatment.

The impact of the fall had broken two of my ribs, but that pain was nothing compared to the ache in my heart.

I cut my hair short and dyed it a sleek silver-gray.

The woman in the mirror had the last trace of softness in her eyes completely gone, replaced by a chilling coldness.

The door opened.

Caleb walked in.

He wore a dark gray suit, held a document in his hand, and looked at me with amused eyes.

"Ms. Smith, or should I say… Queen? Jeffrey nearly drained the waters off Boland searching for you. You see, he still loves you."

I gave a cold laugh and took the water glass he offered.

"Love? This kind of love makes me sick."

I looked straight at Caleb and got to the point.

"Mr. Jackson, let's speak plainly. I'll help you take down the Tucker family. You provide me with a new identity and seed funding."

Caleb raised an eyebrow. "Jeffrey is your old flame. Can you bear to do it?"

"Precisely because he was my old lover, I know exactly where his weaknesses lie."

A flicker of killing intent passed through my eyes.

"I want him to watch helplessly as the business empire he's so proud of crumbles bit by bit before his eyes."

Caleb looked at this wild and dangerous woman before him.

He extended his hand, a trace of admiration curling at the corner of his mouth.

"Deal."

"Pleasure doing business, Queen."

Meanwhile, at the Tucker residence in Boland.

Maisie tried to win Jeffrey back using their child.

She entered the study carrying chicken soup, her voice soft and seductive. "Jeffrey, the dead cannot come back to life. You still have me, and our child…"

Slap!

Jeffrey suddenly swung his arm, sending the soup splattering across the floor.

His eyes were bloodshot as he stared at Maisie with disgust.

"If it weren't for this child, I never would have let her suffer those grievances! If it weren't for your relentless pressure, she would never have jumped! Get out! All of you, get out!"

Maisie fell to the floor in fright, her face pale.

She finally realized that Cynthia was dead, but that dead woman had become the indelible mark forever etched on Jeffrey's heart.

She had become a ghost Maisie could never defeat.

Late at night, while sorting through my belongings, Jeffrey found a small box under the bed.

He opened it.

Inside were the fragments of the pocket watch that had been smashed back then.

And an old cell phone.

It was the old phone he had personally given me.

Jeffrey's hands trembled as he plugged it in to charge and turned it on.

An unread voice message popped up.

It was the one my brother had sent before his death, which I had set to deliver at a scheduled time.

The time was today.

Jeffrey clicked on it.

My brother's weak, despairing voice echoed in the empty room.

"Cynthia… Jeffrey was the one who leaked the coordinates… He wanted to destroy you…"

Jeffrey's face instantly turned deathly pale.

The phone slipped from his hand.

He covered his face and let out a cry of anguish, choked with utter despair.

So that was it…

Cynthia had known everything before she died.

She had jumped into that cold ocean carrying her hatred for him, carrying her despair.

"Cynthia… I'm sorry…"