Everyone called Mia a shameless whore.

However, the one trailing behind her was the youngest don of the Yorick family, James.

He hand-washed her lace camisoles, broke three ribs for her, and even with his face covered in blood from a beating, he could still smile at her.

One night, after too much drinking, the underboss he trusted most leaned down beside him. His face was full of disdain.

“Boss, Mia is a disgrace to all of us! A woman like that, how could she ever be worthy of you?”

James suddenly laughed. His eyes went terrifyingly blank. The cigar between his fingers glowed faintly in the dark.

“Back then, before I secured my position, I was young, greedy for power. To get my sister-in-law that antique necklace she wanted, I took advantage of Mia being drunk and took pictures of her myself…

“Ten dollars a copy. I sold thirty thousand of them. Things blew way out of control… I owe her.”

James took a long drink of whiskey while his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Thankfully… she will never know. I will spend my whole life making it up to her, treating her twice as well.”

He did not see the private room door quietly close the moment he said those words.

Mia turned around with a blank expression on her face and walked into a small clinic on the corner. She laid down on the operating table.

He would never deserve to know that he had once been a father, if only for a moment.

That whole lifetime he planned to spend making it up to her, she did not want it anymore.

There was no anesthesia. Icy instruments plunged into Mia Sanders' body, ripping away the fragile life that had just begun to bloom.

Mia remembered how drunk and unconscious she was at a college party six years ago.

When she woke up, her world had turned upside down.

Her nude photos had spread to every corner of the internet.

Her father spat a mouthful of blood onto the table and never woke up again.

On the third day after the funeral, her mother dragged her to the rooftop.

“I wish I had never given birth to such a shameless thing! Why don't you just die?!”

Then, her mother jumped in front of her.

They were on the nineteenth floor. Her mother was shattered, broken into pieces.

Mia was dragged into the restroom. Urine and feces rained down on her.

Her hair was pulled, her face pressed onto the filthy tile, and something disgusting was shoved into her mouth, forcing her to bark like a dog.

James Yorick was the only one.

It was only James who stood between her and them, covering her in his coat. His eyes were red as he whispered, “Don’t be afraid.”

She clung to that sliver of light like a life raft, gasping for life.

In a cruel twist, the light she held onto had been sparked by the one who burned everything down.

She had even ridiculously fallen in love with him.

Mia forced herself upright and dialed a number.

“Mr. Thompson, this is Mia. I have carefully considered the overseas position you mentioned before, and I’ve decided to accept it.”

The voice on the other end sounded surprised, then hesitant for a moment.

“Mia, your abilities are beyond doubt, but will your husband, Don Yorick, allow you to leave…”

She cut him off. Her voice was flat and unshaken.

“We will get a divorce.”

When James returned home, Mia was curled in the corner of the sofa. Her face was as pale as paper.

He took off his coat, carrying the chill of the night with him, and approached her with furrowed brows.

When his hand touched her icy ankle, he immediately wrapped her entire body in his suit and lifted her into his arms.

He did not kneel. He just sat beside her, pressing her frozen feet against his chest and arms, warming them with his body heat.

“Why can’t you ever take care of yourself?”

His voice was low and unreadable, betraying no emotion, yet his fingertips traced the top of her foot slowly. It was a touch that carried undeniable control.

Mia, looking at his hollow tenderness, felt nothing but disgust, her stomach churning as though it might make her sick.

She instinctively swung a hand, almost gagging as she struck him.

The sharp smack left them both frozen for a moment.

James quickly came back to his senses, pressing her reddened palm to his lips, blowing softly. “Babe, what did I do?”

His heated fingertips traced up her calf, cupping the curve of her rounded hip.

His Adam’s apple rolled as lust darkened his gaze.

“Or… is it because we haven’t been intimate in so long that you want to do it this way…?”

Click.

The sound of a key turning in the door lock cut through the tension.

James jerked back as though he was burned, almost reflexively pushing Mia out of his arms.

Mia’s lower back slammed against the sofa arm, and a muffled groan escaped her lips from the pain.

However, James did not notice. His gaze was already on Zinnia Jones.

Zinnia held a thermal food box. She was dressed in designer clothes with flawless makeup on her face.

Mia had always known that her sister-in-law, Zinnia, was the most special person in James’s world.

After his parents died, Zinnia, who was seven years older, protected him during family chaos, guiding him to the don seat.

She held the highest-level access card, able to come and go at any time, like a true Donna of the house.

Zinnia criticized Mia’s cooking, scolded her for not taking care of James properly.

She dictated how often they could be intimate, claiming that James's work was exhausting. Zinnia told Mia she needed to be sensible and not indulge herself, as it would drain James's energy.

Sometimes, she would even knock late at night, giving instructions through the door on how Mia should position herself to please James most effectively, with every detail bluntly described.

Mia never imagined that it was all just because Zinnia wanted a necklace.

James could so effortlessly ruin her entire life.

Now, Zinnia’s eyes swept over Mia’s disheveled clothing. A hint of displeasure crossed her face, but her smile remained gentle.

“James’s home? Look at you. Why are you dressed like that? You’ll catch a cold.”

She turned to Mia. Her voice was soft yet demanding, “The family needs an heir. You’ve been married three years, and Mia hasn’t conceived.

“So, I hired the most renowned fortune-teller in Sicily. Mia had been unable to conceive all this time because her soul had been tainted by the mark of an ancient demon.”

She retrieved a sealed glass vial from the thermal box.

Inside, the dark red liquid shimmered strangely under the light. A pungent, iron-like stench filled the air.

“This was the heart-blood of a pure black male cat, captured at a crossroads on a full moon night, mixed with holy salt and wormwood. The fortune-teller said it must be drunk by the one who has been tainted in order to purge the demon’s mark.”

Zinnia handed the bottle to Mia. Her voice carried the weight of a merciful judgment. “Mia, drink it, for your future and James’s, and also for the sake of the family’s heir.”

Mia stared at the thick, dark-red liquid in the bottle. Her stomach churned violently as she stepped back.

“No… take it away! I do not want this cursed thing!”

Her voice was hoarse as she raised a hand to push it away.

“Be good. This is for your own good, for the good of the entire family.”

Zinnia’s expression darkened, carrying the authority of an elder.

In the struggle, the bottle slipped from her hand and shattered against the marble floor with a loud crash.

The dark blood splattered everywhere. The metallic stench filled the room.

Zinnia froze for a moment. She stared at the mess and her eyes instantly reddened.

She knelt slowly, using a silk handkerchief to painstakingly wipe the blood from her shoes and the floor. Her shoulders trembled as her voice broke with heart-wrenching sobs,

“I just… I only wanted what was best for you both… wanted the Yorick family to have a proper heir.

“Even if you don’t like it, there's no reason to trample on my feelings and disregard the family’s well-being.”

The more she spoke, the more aggrieved she became. Tears streamed down her carefully maintained face.

James’s eyes darkened as he watched the tears fall. The cold, ruthless aura of the don enveloped him.

“Mia, apologize to Zinnia!”

His voice was low, but sharp as ice.

He stepped forward in long strides, clamping a hand around Mia’s slender arm, dragging her from the sofa without giving her the chance to resist, while his other hand grabbed the bottle opening with only a little blood left.

“James! Let go of me! No!”

Mia struggled violently as her nails raked across his arm.

“Drink it. Only then will the demon leave.”

James’s voice was flat, unyielding. He gripped her jaw and, ignoring her gagging and kicking, pressed the bottle opening to her lips.

“Cough… gag…”

Mia choked violently as the dark-red liquid dripped from the corners of her mouth and down her neck. It was a shocking sight.

James released her jaw, watching her curl up on the carpet in agony. A flicker of emotion flashed across his eyes, but it was quickly swallowed by deep indifference.

He knelt beside her and patted her back. His tone shifted into a rehearsed, gentle calm. “All done. Purification complete. Zinnia did this for the family. You have to understand.”

Zinnia finally wiped her tears, rose to her feet, and spoke with calm authority,

“Not a drop of the sacred blood used for purification can be wasted, or the demon will return.”

She glanced at James; her eyes filled with encouragement and unwavering expectation.

James’ body stiffened for a moment.

Mia suddenly lifted her head. Her bloodshot eyes blazed as she shouted, “James! Are you crazy? What kind of dark magic is this? If you force me again today, we are done for!”

James avoided her gaze. His Adam’s apple rolled.

After a long pause, he reached out, pressing the back of her neck. His voice was low and hoarse, “Mia, don’t throw a childish tantrum. Listen to Zinnia and clean it up.”

Mia’s pupils constricted. A cold wave ran through her veins.

“No… James… you can’t do this… you said you owed me a lifetime… ugh…”

She shook her head desperately, trying to break free.

Finally, he pressed her neck down with absolute control. His voice came out hoarse and husky, as though he was heaving a long sigh.

“Mia, do not be difficult. Do as Zinnia say. It is for our future.”

He increased the pressure, holding her down over the half-congealed blood.

Humiliating tears mixed with the remaining liquid blurred her vision.

Mia trembled as her face pressed into the iron-scented blood, coughing violently as saliva and mucus smeared across her features.

“The ritual is complete. God will bless you.”

Zinnia walked over to James, gently adjusting his collar. "James, don't spoil her too much," she advised before leaving the room in chaos and the stench of blood.

James's eyes followed her, and only after a long moment did he remember Mia. On the cold floor, Mia's body was curled up, completely still.

A dull ache stabbed her lower abdomen again, and a warm liquid seemed to seep from beneath her, mixing with the urine on the floor.

She was bleeding heavily.

“It hurts!”

James’s pupils contracted sharply. His gaze locked on the bright red before him.

His face went pale in an instant, and he nearly fell to his knees.

“Why are you bleeding? Did you cut yourself on the glass? I-I didn’t mean to…”

His words tumbled out incoherently. His face etched with genuine panic and anguish. It was as though the man who had pinned her down moments ago was not him at all.

“I’m sorry, babe, I’m so sorry… I am a bastard, I deserve this! We’ll go to the hospital immediately. Now!”

He scooped Mia up in his arms.

Her body was cold and limp, utterly powerless, letting him do as he pleased.

James ran out of the house, pressing his lips repeatedly to her sweat-dampened forehead.

He opened the passenger door and carefully placed her inside.

As he bent over to buckle her seatbelt, a folded slip of paper slipped from Mia’s pocket, floating lightly to the floor.

“What’s this?” James instinctively bent to pick it up. The moment his fingers touched the paper, a sudden, unexplainable pang seized his heart.

Mia tried to snatch it back, but her fingers lacked any strength.

He glimpsed the hospital’s red stamp and the words [Medical Report] on it.

He frowned as he reached to unfold it.

Then his phone rang sharply. The screen flashed Zinnia’s name, instantly seizing all his attention.

He immediately answered, not even bothering to secure the paper, shoving it into his coat pocket instead.

“James…” Zinnia’s voice trembled with tears. There seemed to be a faint sound of wind behind her. “I… I twisted my ankle while walking… it hurts so much… I can’t move…”

“What?! Where are you? Don’t move, I will be right there!” James’s voice shot up, brimming with unmasked panic and urgency. He even turned instinctively as though he was about to run in the opposite direction of the car.

“No, no, James, don’t come. It’s too much trouble. I can handle it myself…”

Zinnia’s voice grew weaker and pitiful.

“What nonsense!” snapped James, leaving no room for argument. “Stand still and send me your location! If you move on your own, just wait and see how I… punish you.”

He hung up and gripped his phone. His panic over Mia’s bleeding was already replaced by concern for Zinnia.

It was not until the thick, metallic stench of blood reached him that he finally snapped back to reality, looking into the car.

Mia remained curled in the exact position he had placed her. Her face was ghostly pale, almost lifeless.

Dark-red blood had already soaked through the light fabric of her skirt, dripping onto the floor, one drop after another.

A flicker of hesitation crossed James’s face.

“Mia, Zinnia twisted her ankle. I’m her only support. I can’t ignore her.

“I’ll have Carl take you to the hospital. Just hang on a little longer.”

Hang on?

Had she not endured enough over these three years?

“And if I don’t agree?”

James did not pause in carrying her out of the car. “Don’t be stubborn.”

He placed Mia by the roadside, thoughtfully draping his suit jacket over her.

Then he sped off in the car.

The engine’s roar soon disappeared around the corner, leaving only the dead silence and the thick scent of blood.

Mia let out a low, bitter laugh. It was worse than any sob.

“James… you will burn in hell.”

She waited so long.

She waited until her consciousness faded and her entire body trembled uncontrollably.

A black sedan screeched to a stop at the roadside.

Carl slammed the door. His face showed no concern, only undisguised annoyance, and contempt.

He had long resented Mia.

The infamous woman who only brought chaos and scandal to the don and the family, now was lying there half-dead, holding everything up.

“Trouble, as always.”

Carl muttered under his breath. He grabbed Mia’s arm like she was a piece of trash and shoved her into the back seat.

The car lurched forward. Each jolt intensified her pain.

Mia curled up on the cold leather seat.

The faint scent of James lingering on his jacket wrapped around her.

It was sharp and crueler than any knife, slicing away the last shred of her miserable awareness.

‘James, I will never love you again.’