His face went white, and he pulled Sylvia tight against him.

"Don't!"

Sylvia screamed, knocking the phone out of her mother's hand before she could dial.

Then she lifted her head and looked at me through the crowd.

Her eyes were dark, steady. Not a flicker of panic. Not a trace of guilt.

"Honey, let's talk."

The Fox parents cleared everyone out of the room.

That left just the three of us.

I didn't think there was anything left to talk about.

All I could think was: in this life, I hadn't sent Morris to prison. I hadn't let him rot behind bars. And yet she could still look me in the face without an ounce of shame.

For a moment, I couldn't tell if what filled my chest was bitterness or hatred.

I pulled off my wedding ring and tossed it into the trash.

My voice came out flat. "You swore an oath. If you ever lied to me, we'd divorce."

"Sylvia, I'll have the papers drawn up as soon as possible."

"Simon!"

She called after me from behind.

"I'm not divorcing you."

I spun around, and for the first time, I looked at her with real hatred.

"Then I'll file in court!"

"Go ahead and try!"

Sylvia's face was half-lost in the dim light of the room.

"You file for divorce, and I pull the plug on your mother's treatment. Immediately."

"I will make sure that no hospital in this city—no, in this entire country—will take her in."

"Sylvia!"

My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. My whole body was shaking, and I couldn't make it stop.

I imagined how I must have looked—pathetic, powerless, completely broken.

Because I saw Morris flash that gleeful smile again.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"If you love him, just divorce me! You two can be together out in the open! Why do you have to drag me into this?"

I looked at Sylvia through the tears burning in my eyes.

"I've already stepped aside for you. I have never done a single thing to wrong you! Why won't you just let me go?"

Sylvia's voice was perfectly calm.

"You haven't wronged me. But you've wronged Morris."

My eyes went wide.

"When did I ever—"

Sylvia let out a cold laugh.

"Every single girlfriend Morris ever had—you stole them, didn't you?"

"You, hiding behind that 'love tester' act, seduced every one of Morris's girlfriends. You slept with them. You pushed him into depression. He nearly killed himself!"

"You took that many people from him. It's only fair you find out what it feels like to have your own wife taken away."

"And your mother! Do you dare tell me what really caused her stroke?"

"Your mother went to Morris's wedding to cause a scene—all to help you steal yet another woman. She got screamed at until she collapsed. Your mother lying there half-dead? That's what she deserved."

My head exploded. A roar of white noise drowned out everything, and before I knew it, I was standing right in front of them.

My hand cracked across Sylvia's face.

But when I raised it again, swinging toward Morris—

Sylvia shoved me back.

"Enough! Even now, you're still bullying him!"

I wiped the tears from my face. Every word came out through gritted teeth.

"I never did any of that. None of it. Sylvia! Morris is the one who stole my girlfriends. He's the one who eloped with my ex at the wedding. He's the one who sent my mother into a stroke!"

"There are witnesses. There are text messages, all saved on my phone. You can check for yourself—"

"Enough!"

Sylvia's palm struck my face, cutting me off mid-sentence.

Her expression was ugly with contempt.

"Even now, after everything, you still won't admit it. You still won't repent."

"Simon, I had no idea you were this shameless and heartless!"

"Won't admit it, huh? Still lying through your teeth? Then let's see just how stubborn you really are!"

She stood up and called in her bodyguards. They grabbed me and dragged me toward the stairs.

"Let go of me!"

They threw me straight into the basement freezer and locked the door behind them.

"Let me out!"

I pounded on the freezer door like a madman.

The only answer I got was her voice, cold and merciless from the other side:

"You won't confess? Fine. Let's see which gives out first—your life or your stubbornness."

"The second you admit what you did and get on your knees to apologize to Morris, I'll let you out!"

I slammed my fists against the door until my knuckles split, but no one came.

The temperature plummeted.

I slid to the ground, helpless, my body going numb as the cold seeped into my bones.

I didn't know how long I'd been in there when the freezer door finally opened.

I looked up and saw Morris rushing toward me, face full of concern, reaching down to help me to my feet.

"Hey, you okay? Come on, let's get you out of here! We need to get you to a hospital!"

I stared at the earnest worry on his face and felt something inside me crack apart.

"Morris, why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you? Why do you keep destroying my life?"

My voice broke.

If I had to choose who I hated more—between Sylvia and Morris—it was Morris. Every time.

We'd grown up together. We were supposed to be brothers. Best friends since childhood.

I'd stepped in front of him when a senior tried to slap him around, took the hit meant for his face.

He'd slung his arm around my shoulders afterward and told me we'd be brothers for life.

And yet this was the same person who, time after time, had driven a knife straight into my heart.

Morris put on a wounded, wronged expression.

"I was just worried you were being deceived by that woman. All I wanted was to help you find a wife who actually loves you and trusts you!"

I shoved his hand away, tears streaming down my face.

"You're not looking out for me! Every single time, all you do is hurt me!"

Morris blinked at me with those guileless eyes.

"Okay, okay. You're right. I was wrong. But let's get you to a hospital first."

He hauled me up by force—my legs could barely hold me—and pushed me into a car.

The car didn't go to the hospital. It pulled up to a hotel. I stared at him, every nerve on edge.

"What are you doing? Where are you taking me?"

He just smiled, something secretive flickering across his face, and dragged my weakened body into a room.

The door swung open. Inside stood a group of burly men with leering, repulsive faces.

Morris let out a sudden shriek, ripped his own shirt, smashed his own forehead against the doorframe until blood ran down his face, and bolted out of the room.

"I'm sorry! Please, Mr. Sawyer, I won't fight you for her! I won't compete with you for anything! Please stop hitting me!"

Every instinct screamed danger. I forced my body upright, trying to grab him.

Before I could even steady myself, the door was kicked open from the outside.

Sylvia took one look at me, then at the thugs standing behind me.

Her eyes went red instantly.

Her palm cracked across my face.

"Simon! Do you have a death wish?!"

"Not only won't you repent for what you've done, now you're trying to get revenge on Morris?! You were actually going to ruin him! How can you be this vicious?!"

"I didn't do anything!"

I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood.

"Morris is the one who opened the freezer! He brought me here!"

"Enough! You and I are the only ones who know the passcode to that freezer! There's no way Morris could have opened it! You obviously snuck out and dragged Morris here yourself!"

Sylvia's jaw clenched, her teeth grinding together.

"So that's how it is. Threatening your own life won't make you bend. Then let's see if your mother's life will."

My eyes went wide.

"What are you going to do?!"

Sylvia gave the order without hesitation.

"Throw Simon's mother out of the hospital. No one touches her case."

"No!"

I collapsed at her feet, sobbing.

"I'll apologize! You want me to apologize to Morris? I'll do it! Just don't touch my mother!"

"Too late."

Sylvia's voice was ice.

"When Morris wakes up and forgives you, that's when I'll let someone deal with your mother. Not a second before."

I looked toward Morris, still cradled in her arms, and caught him snapping his eyes shut. Pretending to be unconscious.

Desperation drove my forehead to the floor. Again. And again.

"I'm begging you, Sylvia. Do whatever you want to me. Anything. Just leave my mother alone."

"Morris, I've given you everything you ever asked for! Can't you just let us go?!"

The only answer was Sylvia's back as she walked away, her voice trailing behind her like a verdict.

"Watch him. Keep him on his knees. If he tries to stand, break his legs."

One hour. Two hours.

I knelt there, crying, praying that Morris would have a shred of mercy left in him, that he'd wake up and stop Sylvia.

What I got instead was a phone call from Sylvia's assistant. Cold. Clinical.

"I'm sorry, sir. Your mother has passed away. Since you weren't present to sign for the body, we've already sent her remains to the processing facility."

"No!"

The scream tore out of me. Blood followed, pouring from my mouth in thick, dark waves.

The bodyguards received a message from Sylvia. They hauled me off the ground.

"Miss Fox is hosting a birthday party for Mr. Harding tonight. She wants you cleaned up and on your knees at the venue to apologize. You're his birthday present."

I followed them like a dead man walking. Into the car. Back to the house. Into the bedroom to get ready.

They waited outside.

Minutes passed. Then more minutes. I never came out.

They kicked the bedroom door open.

I was gone.

All that remained was a beautifully wrapped gift box sitting on the bed.

Sylvia wore a smile as she watched the man in front of her blow out his candles.

But irritation gnawed at her beneath the surface.

Simon still hadn't shown up.

She'd scared him enough, hadn't she? All she wanted was for him to apologize to Morris, to put a period at the end of all the wrongs he'd committed. Was that really so much to ask?

Her agitation was reaching its peak when a bodyguard rushed into the room.

Sylvia's eyes lit up. Then dimmed the moment she scanned the space behind him and found no trace of Simon.

"Where is he?!"

The bodyguards were drenched in cold sweat. One of them held out the gift box with trembling hands.

"This is his gift, ma'am. He said to open it."