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."

The department's doctors and nurses surrounded Deanna, unwilling to see her leave.

Still, everyone was aware that the hospital had promised her freedom—whenever she wished to leave, no one would stand in her way.

Nobody dared to hold her back.

Her reputation made that impossible.

At the age of twenty-three, Deanna had already outshone her peers who were still scrambling for spots at top hospitals, becoming a rising star everyone wanted to claim.

No matter where she went, her talent guaranteed a warm welcome.

In the past, Connor had held Deanna under his spell for three long years. Now that she'd shaken off his influence, stepping away felt like the most natural choice.

This decision was a blessing for her.

Yet, inside the department, resentment brewed against Gillian. The staff could not help but blame her for Deanna's departure.

Directors with Deanna's level of skill and willingness to mentor others were hard to come by.

Walking along the corridor, Deanna noticed Theresa in the distance.

Theresa, exuding authority, led a small group pushing rows of clothes forward.

"Where are you headed, Deanna?" Theresa called over.

When Deanna saw the fancy dresses hanging up and the makeup artist following behind, she replied without hesitation, "I'm going to see Gillian."

"What?" Theresa froze in disbelief. The dress slipped from her hand and landed at her feet. "You're really going to see Gillian?"

She assumed Deanna meant to apologize to Gillian again.

Catching on to the misunderstanding, Deanna picked up the dress and returned it to her. "That's not my intention. She won't get off easy."

A playful grin flickered on her face as she gently nudged Theresa's chin upward. "Wait for me in my hospital room. I'll only be gone thirty minutes."

Deanna's punctuality was never in doubt.

Exactly thirty minutes later, she stepped out of Gillian's room.

Inside, Gillian rested against the headboard, her eyes meeting Judie's in shared bewilderment. "Mom, don't you think Deanna was acting strange today?"

With a self-satisfied grin, Judie answered, "What's strange about her behavior? You lost the baby, and the Dixon family tossed all the blame onto her. Anyone in her shoes would look defeated right now."

Gillian's unease only deepened. "What if she connects the dots and figures out that I miscarried because I took some medication?"

Judie waved off her worry without missing a beat. "Don't be paranoid. The medication came straight from your cousin's lab, and that place has tighter security than anywhere else in the country. Your cousin even tapped into the company's highest clearance. No one can trace it back."

Gillian bit her lip, still anxious. "Just talk to my cousin one more time. Deanna's the type who never misses a detail, and if she uncovers the truth, I could lose my shot with Connor. We can't afford to slip up."

Judie gave a tired sigh and replied, "Fine, I'll give him a reminder. If your husband had any backbone, we wouldn't be pulling strings like this."

Judie reached for her phone, but Gillian quickly stopped her. "Don't call out there, Mom. With so many ears around, it's too risky. Just talk from here."

Judie huffed under her breath. "You worry too much." Even so, she made the call right there and whispered instructions to ensure every loose end stayed buried.

The person on the other end reassured her with a little flattery, making Judie laugh aloud.

"Gillian has everyone in the Dixon family wrapped around her finger. They never questioned a thing, just blamed Deanna for the miscarriage without digging for answers. With Gillian's charm, she can handle them easily. Relax. Once she ditches that fool Andrew and marries Connor, your company will be set. We're all in this together. You'll get your share when we win."

Her laughter rang out loud and proud.

Meanwhile, a tiny red recording light blinked in a shadowy corner above them, unnoticed.

Back in Deanna's room, she returned to a scene overflowing with clothes.

The nurse at the door couldn't help but exclaim, "Does Deanna really need so many outfits?"

Theresa looked quite pleased with herself, standing with her hands on her hips. "She deserves better than just a handful. The room's small, so I only brought what I could grab."

The nurse found herself wishing she had a friend like Theresa.

Inside, Deanna asked everyone not involved to wait outside the room.

Afterward, she placed a call to Connor.

Technically, the call went to his secretary.

In three years of marriage, Deanna had never once been able to reach Connor directly. Every conversation went through the secretary, and all her requests for his personal number were brushed off. The whole thing was laughable.

At Theresa's insistence, Deanna put the call on speaker. The secretary answered, already sounding annoyed. "Hello. If you need something, make it quick. My boss has important business to handle."

Theresa's temper flared at the arrogance in his voice.

Anyone could tell the secretary had adopted Connor's exact attitude.

With the way the secretary behaved, Theresa had no doubt Connor's arrogance was even more unbearable in person.

As Theresa bristled with anger, Deanna reached out to steady her and said coldly, "Let Connor know Gillian's situation has changed. Whether he cares to listen is up to him."

The secretary's demeanor shifted in an instant, though he still sounded impatient. "Alright, one moment."

Theresa's patience snapped, and she slapped her thigh. "I'm sure this is all because of that jerk's instructions. If it concerns Gillian, they must tell him immediately. What trash!"

Before Theresa could say another word, Connor's chilly voice rang out from the speaker. "What's going on with Gillian?"

Deanna replied, "Gillian's doing fine. Actually, I'm calling to discuss our divorce."

The line went quiet for a moment, then Connor let out a scoff that barely masked his irritation. "Have you changed your mind?"

Theresa looked like she wanted to explode, but she held back for Deanna's sake, biting down her frustration until her face turned red.

Deanna kept her composure. Years of neglect had taught her to keep her emotions tightly reined in, and Connor's contempt hardly made a dent.

"No, I haven't changed my mind. I'm available this afternoon. Let's meet at the courthouse and get this over with," she said.

There was another long silence before Connor answered, "So you're really ending this? Deanna, I don't have the time to play these games. Make sure this is what you want."

Deanna replied without hesitation, "I've already made up my mind. I'll see you at the courthouse at two."

Glancing at the clock, she continued, "You'll get the signed divorce agreement at your office in five minutes. That's all I needed to say. I won't take up any more of your time."

As soon as Deanna finished, the call ended with a click.

The harsh beep echoed in Connor's office.

Moments later, the secretary peeked in, immediately stopping in his tracks as he caught sight of Connor's cold expression.

The tension was enough to make anyone hesitate before stepping inside.

"What is it now?" Connor's tone made it clear he had little patience for interruptions.

Without delay, the secretary walked forward and placed a folder on the desk. "This just arrived for you, sir. It's legal and bears your name."

Connor flipped it open and found himself staring at the divorce agreement. Deanna's signature was already in place, leaving a single line blank for his.

The terms were simple, and Deanna wanted to leave the marriage with nothing.

With a scoff, Connor tossed the agreement back onto his desk.

He couldn't help but find her latest move creative. Pretending not to care must be her new strategy.

Connor convinced himself that Deanna's actions were nothing more than another attempt to draw his focus, and he found the whole charade beneath contempt.

The secretary eyed the document and gave a dry, mocking laugh. "What's she aiming for this time? Does she really believe this will wipe away her part in Gillian's miscarriage? She must think she's smarter than everyone else."

Every word dripped with sarcasm, the mockery barely disguised.

Connor's glare didn't soften. "If she's so determined to end things, let's make it happen. I want to see what kind of move she'll make at the courthouse."

Without delay, Connor cleared his afternoon of all other obligations.

His grandmother, Susan, had always warned that spoiling a woman's whims would only lead to trouble.

In Connor's mind, Deanna had crossed a line. Not only did she refuse to take the blame for what happened, but she also dared to pull such a weak stunt to challenge his authority.

Smirking at the thought, Connor looked forward to watching Deanna beg to stay married.

He saw this as his chance to break her stubborn streak, hoping she'd learn to behave and focus on Gillian from now on.

It never occurred to him that Deanna meant every word about wanting to end things for good.