"Connor, what are you talking about?" Deanna murmured, stunned by his words.

For a long time, she had known he would never stand on her side. Even so, she always believed he would at least try to be fair. She never thought he would rely on Gillian's version of the story without taking a moment to understand what had actually happened.

Now that belief crumbled before her.

Deanna dropped her gaze, and a faint, self-mocking smile tugged at her lips.

This was the man she had chased after with her whole heart. He was the one she had insisted on marrying even when her father warned her not to.

During the past three years, she had seen clearly that Connor's heart had always rested with Gillian—they had grown up together, and their history was long and tangled. But since Gillian was already married to Andrew, Deanna convinced herself that Connor would eventually warm up to her.

So when Connor offered marriage in exchange for her caring for Gillian's illness, she paused only briefly before agreeing.

She never imagined that three years later, he would suggest a divorce with such ease.

Deanna lifted her eyes toward Connor, who once again chose Gillian without hesitation.

His cold stare met hers. His handsome features were unreadable, and when his gaze landed on her, it felt like she was nothing more than a stranger he happened to pass in a hallway. It was just as it had been when they first married.

At that moment, she understood how deeply she had fooled herself. He didn't care for her, and he never would, no matter how much she tried.

"Deanna! Did you not hear Connor? Quit your job or accept the divorce!" said Susan loudly. Her voice rang with mockery as she looked straight at Deanna.

Deanna pulled herself upright. "I've already told you—I've done everything I can. If you're convinced there's a problem with the medication, then ask the hospital's inspection team to check. I'm not about to give up the career I worked so hard for."

Slamming her palm down on the table, Susan jabbed her finger toward Deanna and let out a sharp laugh. "You really think you've done enough? You have the nerve to drag the inspection team into this? Do you believe I don't know what you and your hospital friends are up to? Gillian has told me everything about how you mistreated her, and she still tried to cover for you."

She paused for a moment before she instructed sharply, "Alright then! If she refuses to admit fault, take her down to the basement and lock her up. She can come out when she's ready to confess. Since she's so stubborn, don't bother feeding her. Just make sure she has enough water to stay alive!"

Deanna stared in disbelief. Was this really happening in the present day? How could they talk about locking her in a basement and starving her like it was nothing?

Instead of arguing back, she turned her eyes to Connor.

She couldn't help herself. Some part of her still longed to know what he really thought.

When Connor finally looked at her, his eyes were cold. "Take your time and think it over. Gillian lost her child, and you have to answer for it."

"Why bother arguing with her, Connor? Just toss her into the basement. Let her go without food for three days. Maybe then she'll stop acting so tough." Kristina never tried to hide her dislike for Deanna. She always thought Connor had been forced into this marriage. Ever since Deanna joined their family, Kristina went out of her way to make her life difficult.

Ignoring Kristina completely, Deanna kept her eyes fixed on Connor. Kristina's opinions meant nothing to her. Only Connor's ever mattered.

With hope flickering in her gaze, she faced him and said, "Connor, I would never hurt Gillian. I'm a doctor. I care for every patient. You always talk about being reasonable. Can't you show me the same fairness you claim to believe in?"

Hope flickered in Deanna's eyes as she searched his face.

Nothing about her plea was about wanting special treatment. All she wished for was simple fairness. She wanted someone to look at the facts and tell her the truth behind it all.

That was the only thing she ever asked from him.

Still, she found herself let down in the end.

Dragged back home by the family's butler, Deanna was led straight into the basement.

The door swung shut, separating her from Connor and sealing her away from the world.

Her pulse raced, panic creeping in. Through the narrow gap, she caught a final glimpse of Connor's distant gaze. There was nothing in his eyes, no warmth or regret.

The cold look he gave her made Deanna freeze in place. Her heart pounded as she watched him vanish behind the door.

Time lost all meaning as she sat in the pitch-black room.

All she could tell was the floor felt clammy under her hands, and the air pressed down with an oppressive weight.

Every now and then, something small scurried past, making the silence even harder to bear.

She went from feeling heartbroken to feeling nothing at all. At some point, she simply settled onto the cold floor, her heart slowly giving up on the man she once loved.

She couldn't guess how many hours or days had passed in the darkness.

At last, the basement door creaked open and sunlight spilled across the floor, forcing her to shield her eyes.

Standing in the glare, Connor asked flatly, "Have you admitted what you did wrong?"

If she answered yes, he'd send her right back to the hospital to care for Gillian.

But after Deanna heard him say that, whatever love she still had left was finally gone.

Still, she refused to let go, clinging to something she could not quite name. Maybe it was the weight of three years together. Maybe it was the hope that Connor might finally see her.

"I have never mistreated Gillian. I've done everything I could to help her. If you let me, I'll go to the hospital and uncover the truth. All I'm asking for is one last chance, Connor. Isn't that fair?" Deanna pleaded with hopeful eyes.

"One last chance?" Connor's eyes glinted with cold amusement. "You mean more time to hide what you've done?"

Heartbreak still washed over Deanna, even though she had tried to brace herself for this moment.

Rising unsteadily from the floor, she faced her husband and asked, "After everything we've been through, did you ever feel anything for me at all?"

For a brief second, Connor hesitated. Then a low, humorless laugh slipped out of him.

That sound struck her harder than any blow. It told her she had clung to a hope that never existed.

"So that means never," she murmured, her complexion turning ghostly. "I really was fooling myself."

A bitter chuckle escaped her. "In that case, let's end this. Let's get a divorce."

Connor froze, staring at her as if she had spoken something impossible. His brows tightened while his gaze turned colder.

He had expected her to confess guilt after a night in the basement. He assumed she would fold, step aside from her position at the hospital, and fall in line the way she always had.

He never imagined she would be the one to bring up divorce.

To him, her refusal to bend looked ridiculous, even defiant in all the wrong ways.

Watching his expression shift, Deanna felt a hollow laugh rise in her chest as she lowered her head.

His surprise made sense. She had spent three years following every word he spoke.

Taking a steadying breath, she looked him in the eye and said again, "Connor, I want a divorce."

With those words, she turned and walked out of the basement.

Her steps were slow. The fever from yesterday clung to her, and every bruise throbbed under her skin. The memory of those small creatures brushing past her fingers made her shiver all over again.

But she kept moving.

She chose to leave this house behind, to walk away from the Dixon family, and to end the marriage she once believed she would treasure for the rest of her life.

Deanna left the Dixon residence with nothing but the clothes on her.

Behind her, the servants wasted no time gossiping.

"She talks big about wanting a divorce, but she left with empty hands. If she's trying to act aloof, she's doing a lousy job."

"Right? She walks around like she's above it all, but everybody knows she only married into this family for the money. They say she's never even shared a bed with her husband."

"That's probably for the best. A woman like her doesn't deserve him anyway. I doubt she'll really go through with the divorce."

"Please. What could she possibly make as a doctor? She's all talk. Just wait—she'll cave and quit her job so she can stay here and nurse Gillian full-time."

"If she's really so tough, why not just go through with the divorce already?"

As Deanna put distance between herself and the house, their ridicule faded into the background.

The fever had wrung her dry, leaving her body weak and trembling.

Her years of medical training told her she was close to collapse.

She steadied herself, willing herself to stay upright while she waited for a taxi.

A sudden gust whipped past, followed by a sleek black car that barely missed her as it sped by.

A jolt of panic shot through Deanna as she stumbled backward, barely dodging the oncoming car. In that brief second, she caught sight of Connor's profile through the glass, his face as unreadable as stone.

The tinted window slid up, cutting her off from his world once and for all.

She stayed rooted to the spot, a sad, broken smile twisting her lips.

Three years of loyalty had ended with her standing alone in the street, cast out like a stranger.

As the car rounded the corner, the driver risked a glance at the rearview mirror, his eyes lingering on Deanna's pale figure. "Sir, she looks like she's about to collapse. If she faints out front, it'll get people talking. We might have a mess on our hands."

Connor opened his eyes, cold and resolute. "She's the reason Gillian lost the baby. Even if she gave up everything, it wouldn't be enough to make up for it."

Unseen, the driver's lips curled into a faint smirk before he answered, "Understood."

The vehicle blended into the traffic, leaving Deanna exposed beneath the merciless sun.

Heat shimmered around her, drawing all the moisture from her lips and making her vision swim. She tried to blink away the darkness, but her balance faltered, and she fought to stay upright.

Her heart thundered painfully as she clutched her chest, struggling for air.

The world tilted around her, the edges blurring.

For one suspended moment, she felt herself drift—light as a leaf, cut loose from its branch and tumbling helplessly to the ground.

Through a haze of tears and dizziness, Deanna glimpsed a familiar face—sharp lines and steady eyes flickering in and out of focus.

She tried to force her eyelids open, but exhaustion pinned her down. As her senses faded, a distant, urgent voice called her name, panic lacing each syllable.

Theresa Lloyd, her closest friend, burst into the hospital after a frantic phone call, only to find Deanna already unconscious, her skin pale and cold.

Even in sleep, Deanna's body shook uncontrollably, clammy sweat collecting on her brow. She hovered on the edge of life, looking one breath away from slipping under for good.

The staff from obstetrics and gynecology rushed to her side, their voices rising in a chorus of concern.

Nikolas Green, the hospital director, arrived to see Deanna limp and lifeless on the gurney. Grief twisted his expression. "She lost so much blood and still finished that surgery. Yet when she fell ill herself, she took a taxi alone and collapsed right at the entrance. The Dixon family has no heart."

The head nurse, Rebecca Oliver, face flushed with outrage, jabbed a finger toward Gillian's room. "Are they really so shameless? Deanna nearly died, and all they care about is another woman."

Nurses and doctors, bristling with anger, rushed Deanna into a private room.

Her fever raged well into the night. When morning finally broke and her eyes fluttered open, she felt fragile and spent, slumping against the pillows.

Her gaze drifted, empty, while the chaos of yesterday replayed in cruel detail.

Pain welled up in her chest, hot and raw. Three years spent loving a man who had once held her close, a man who now left only scars.

She pulled her knees to her chest, hiding her face in her arms as silent tears slipped down.

All this time, she had believed that genuine love would be returned. Instead, her devotion had only left her shattered.

She'd clung to the hope that effort and obedience could thaw even the iciest heart.

How foolish that dream seemed now.

No wonder people called her naive—looking back, even that felt like too gentle a word.

When Deanna awoke again, sunlight filtered in through the hospital window.

Her body was sticky with cold sweat. She changed into fresh clothes just as her coworkers arrived, with Theresa leading the way, balancing a steaming cup of coffee and a bag of breakfast in her arms.

"Deanna, finally, you're up," Theresa said, grabbing her hand in relief. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. For a second, I thought I might never see you again."

Deanna found a tiny smile. Theresa always had a flair for the dramatic. "I'm all right now. It's nothing."

"Deanna, please just focus on getting better. We'll handle the rounds and checkups. The whole team's agreed to cover your shifts, so you don't have to think about anything except recovering," another colleague, Ian Dale, remarked, his voice full of warmth.

Since Deanna's arrival at Benignity Hospital, she had raised the bar in cardiac surgery. When Gillian's pregnancy required close monitoring, Deanna transferred to lead obstetrics and gynecology.

Some of the old guard had doubted her at first, but after watching her in the operating room, even the most stubborn skeptics came around.

Under her leadership, the department changed a lot—surgical success rates shot up, and the hospital's reputation soared across the country.

Her team's loyalty and respect had been hard-earned, and right now, their support felt like a lifeline.

Ian's reassurance was echoed by the rest of the team, all nodding their agreement.

Deanna allowed herself to relax, genuinely moved by their support.

Once her colleagues had returned to work, she looked over at Theresa, who lingered by her bed. "Do you know where my phone is?"

Theresa was immediately on guard. "Please don't tell me you're thinking about calling Connor again. Haven't you had enough of him ignoring you? If you're still hoping to patch things up, at least wait until you're stronger. You can't keep pouring yourself out for someone who only takes."

Deanna managed a tired, lopsided smile. The heartbreak was gone—she had already chosen to let go.

"It's not about him," she said, shaking her head. "I just want to check the news."

She knew Gillian's patterns too well. After losing the baby, Gillian would make sure to appear blameless—crying for sympathy, painting herself as the victim, and placing all responsibility for the tragedy on her.

This time, Gillian's accusations wouldn't be limited to whispers within the Dixon family. Gillian would play to the crowd, spinning stories to ruin her name far and wide.

Deanna thought back to the years Gillian had spent acting like a friend, only to lay the groundwork for this betrayal.

Three years of kindness, only to end up holding a knife in her back.

Every headline and article Deanna scrolled through proved her right.

Theresa, watching her, couldn't hide her frustration. "Why even bother looking? I told you Gillian wasn't as sweet as she pretended. She's a snake, and you keep getting bitten because you refuse to see it. You used to call her your friend with a 'good heart.' Well, now the whole internet is convinced you're the villain. And Connor? That man's hopeless! It makes you wonder how he even got to be CEO—he's clueless!"

Deanna stayed silent, her attention glued to the phone in her hand.

All the coverage was aimed at her and Benignity Hospital—Connor and the Dixon family were never mentioned.

For doctors, reputation was everything. For a hospital, it was survival.

Deanna could take whatever the world threw at her, but she couldn't let the place she'd worked so hard to build fall into ruin.

Gillian's attack was ruthless and perfectly timed, but she didn't realize that the same expertise Deanna had used to save her life could be used just as effectively to destroy her.

After all, congenital heart disease never really disappeared—it needed constant care, and ignoring that was a recipe for disaster.

Deanna found it almost amusing—how much she'd cared, and how little Gillian understood what was truly at stake.

From the corner of her eye, Theresa noticed Deanna's faint, almost dangerous smile and shivered. "Deanna, um, what's going on? I know you've been through hell, but you're scaring me. All right, I won't call Connor an idiot or Gillian a snake ever again, I promise."

Deanna looked up and saw Theresa's worried face, realizing her old habit of defending Connor had clouded things for her friend.

Her throat burned with every word, but she spoke with quiet determination. "Honestly, you're right, Theresa. I finally see it now."

She finished her coffee and settled back against her pillow, closing her eyes, leaving Theresa wide-eyed and completely stunned.

What just happened?

Had Deanna really changed?

She had spent years getting scolded every time she complained about Connor. Now, Deanna was actually agreeing with her?

In disbelief, Theresa pinched her arm hard enough to leave a mark. The sting proved it—she wasn't imagining things.

Deanna let her eyes fall shut, a gentle sorrow weighing on her mind.

Three years had rolled by, and she'd been worn thin more often than she could count, but even during her hardest days, she clung to any bright spot she could find.

Each time Connor smiled, she took it as if it meant something more.

Right now, it struck Deanna how love could turn into a comfortable lie. Connor didn't even have to lift a finger. He simply existed, and she tumbled right into longing for him.

After three long years, she realized she couldn't keep lying to herself and needed to let go.

For once, she slept deeply, free from the shadows of Gillian's illness or the exhausting need to win Connor's favor. The peace she found in her dreams was pure and untroubled.

When she opened her eyes, Theresa sat nearby, peeling an orange. Faint chatter from other patients drifted through the open door.

"Deanna Carter? The doctor who works here?"

"It must be. They say she's the head of the obstetrics and gynecology department at Benignity Hospital. Who else fits that description?"

"Oh wow, it really is her! Should we look for a different doctor? I fought tooth and nail to have this baby. I can't let anything risk it."

"I'm thinking of asking for someone else too. Did you catch the news? There's a rumor going around that this doctor makes her patients buy pricey herbal medicine from just one pharmacy, and the treatment fees could buy a whole house."

"Seriously? That's ridiculous! She's doing all this for cash? Has she lost her mind?"

"Exactly. There's no decency left in her anymore. She'd do anything for money. I even heard past scandals were covered up by the hospital, but this time, everything blew up because someone in the Dixon family got hurt by her."

"This is terrible! I should get a different doctor. I get this baby through IVF. If something happened, I'd never forgive myself."

"What's the point in changing doctors? I'd just go to another hospital. They're all the same, corrupt as ever!"

Hearing those harsh words, Deanna's brow creased.

Theresa looked ready to leap up and confront them, anger flashing in her eyes, but Deanna reached out to stop her.

"Deanna! Let me handle those women. They don't know a thing and just toss around nasty gossip. You're far more talented than they'll ever understand. What gives them the right to talk like that?" Theresa said, unable to hide her outrage.

Unbothered by the gossip, Deanna answered, "Let them talk. Honestly, their worries make sense. Any woman carrying a child turns into a lioness, ready to protect every heartbeat and flutter. They know nothing about what I can do; all they hear are rumors, and they trust whatever name seems safest. All these mothers want is to deliver a healthy baby. It's hard to hold that against them."

She believed the real fault belonged to those who had damaged her name and stained the hospital's reputation.

"What now?" asked Theresa, who had always looked up to Deanna with admiration. It stung to see her so unfairly judged. "This can't go on. People need to know a doctor's skill is only half the story—integrity and trust matter just as much."

The weight of the situation left Theresa looking crushed.

Whenever Gillian or Connor were involved, Deanna's decisions could sometimes become tangled up in feelings.

Worry gnawed at Theresa, afraid Deanna's heart might steer her off course and cost her everything she'd worked for.

Seeing the anxiety etched across Theresa's face, Deanna offered a calm reassurance. "There's no need to worry. I have a plan, and I'll see it through."

The answer brought little comfort to Theresa.

A plan?

What sort of plan?

Would Deanna swallow the blame again and let others walk all over her?

Those thoughts sent Theresa into a frustrated spiral, and she buried her head in her hands, itching to lash out at something.

Meanwhile, Deanna kept her thoughts to herself.

While Theresa's anger brewed, Deanna said in an easy tone, "I didn't bring any clothes with me. Can you buy me something new to wear? I need to get a divorce."

Mentioning the divorce, Deanna's face remained composed, like she was following through on a decision long in the making.

Impulsiveness had never been part of her character.

With everything else in life, she weighed each move with care—except when it came to Connor, where she had given up so much of herself again and again.

Theresa froze at those words. "Deanna, did I hear you right?" She stared, wide-eyed, unable to process what she'd just been told.

"I need to get divorced. Trouble is, I've got nothing to wear for the occasion. Could you help me with that?" Deanna repeated, steady as ever.

"Ah!" The sound burst from Theresa as she threw her arms around Deanna, squeezing so hard it felt like Deanna might suffocate until Theresa finally pulled away.

Tears rimmed Theresa's eyes as she stepped back, her words tangled with emotion. She managed a shaky laugh as she said, "Deanna, for a second, I thought you'd go back to that miserable life. I was certain you'd end up shackled to Connor forever. To hell with the Dixon family! Let's get a divorce and leave all this behind. We'll start fresh, just you and me."

Theresa dug through her purse for her phone, glancing nervously at Deanna as if worried she might back out. When she got through to her secretary, her tone was brisk and insistent. "This can't wait! Move fast! I need a divorce agreement written up right now!"

When Deanna said she didn't want any of Connor's assets, Theresa hesitated for a heartbeat, then agreed reluctantly. She said into the phone, "Forget the assets. Deanna has no use for that junk. Let Connor have them all. Make sure that divorce agreement reaches Benignity Hospital in the next hour!"

Theresa ended the call and hurried for the exit, calling over her shoulder, "Deanna! Hold on! I'll have everything sorted in no time!"

Deanna's lips curled into a faint smile as she watched her friend rushing off.

Theresa seemed terrified she might change her mind.

When the door closed behind Theresa, Deanna dialed a number.

Recently, more people had been crowding near the hospital's entrance, clutching cameras, and although Nikolas hadn't mentioned it, Deanna sensed trouble brewing. The hospital's good name was on the line, and losing the trust of patients could stir up no end of conflict.

That meant she had to resolve Gillian's situation without delay.

Back when she'd been tied to Connor, Deanna had to factor in the Dixon family's opinions.

Now, set free by her impending divorce, she found herself able to make bold choices.

She wasted no time and headed to Nikolas' office to hand in her resignation.

Nikolas' jaw dropped as he ripped up the letter right before her eyes. "Deanna, you can't be serious! Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Is it because I asked you to rest? Please, understand, with all the gossip and your recent illness, I just wanted to give you some time off. Why on earth are you quitting?"

Pressing a hand to his chest, Nikolas continued, "You've given me quite a scare. Take your break. Your salary will continue, and if there's anything we need to discuss, just come to me. But promise me—no more resignation letters!"

The seriousness in Nikolas' voice matched the stern look on his face.

Losing Deanna was out of the question. She was the kind of talent rarely seen—a natural surgeon whose skill set her apart.

He'd witnessed many doctors freeze up before operations, hands trembling and nerves frayed, sweat soaking their collars.

Yet, when Deanna stepped into the operating room, her excitement was matched by composure. She wielded the scalpel the way an artist handled a brush, turning every movement into an act of creation rather than mere procedure.

Medicine was more than just a job to her. She worked without the recklessness of youth, and she always treated every life she touched with profound respect.

Qualities like these were sorely lacking in most others he'd mentored.

Letting Deanna slip away would mean losing someone who seemed destined to shine.

Driven by that thought, Nikolas blurted out, "Is this about Gillian? Or does it have to do with Connor? Just tell me how you want things handled. If I can help, I'll make calls myself, set up consultations, anything you need."

His words tumbled out in a rush, desperation leaving his throat dry, but Deanna's answer came with a knowing smile. "Mr. Green, my family only gave me a year's freedom, and I've already stayed longer than promised. It's time for me to return home."

Hearing this, Nikolas felt his hopes collapse, as if someone had splashed him with cold water.

With a family fortune in the hundreds of billions and countless employees counting on her leadership, there was nothing he could say to keep her.

Defeated, Nikolas picked up the shreds of her resignation letter from the trash and looked back at her with sorrow. "Alright, I'll let you leave, but you have to promise me something. If you ever decide to come back, you're always welcome."

Before she could answer, Nikolas added, "And if you ever develop a new treatment, you need to share it with us first. This is always your home."

Deanna's smile softened. "I promise."

Word spread quickly, and when the department learned she was leaving, a collective groan swept through her colleagues.

Deanna bowed with gratitude. "Thank you all for the kindness and support you've shown me over the last three years. I truly appreciate everything. I hope we see each other again soon. Before I go, I'll make sure to settle the situation with Gillian, so no one needs to worry."