My heart lurched, and my blood ran cold.

I’d been an orphan since I was little. It was Selena, my adoptive mother, who took me in despite all the gossip.

She worked herself to the bone with odd jobs in Chinatown, scrimping and saving to raise me.

When I first got together with Vincent, I never let him drive me home.

I was terrified he’d look down on me and my family, just like everyone else did.

But when Vincent found out, his eyes had reddened with heartache.

He’d held me in his arms, stroking my hair, his voice choked with emotion.

"Elena, don't worry. No one will ever bully you again."

When he proposed, he hired the top planners in New York to transform the family vineyard into a lavish spectacle. It rocked the entire New York underworld, making me the envy of every woman.

He found the best cardiologist in New York for my mother and covered all the medical bills.

People who used to look down on me came forward to congratulate me, saying all sorts of flattering things.

I was so deep in it, I believed his love would last forever.

But then Mia tore that dream to shreds.

Yet, I never imagined he would use my mother's life to threaten me now.

Using my only weakness to win Mia’s favor.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, but the pain was nothing compared to the agony in my chest.

Despair choked me. I closed my eyes, tears falling silently, and whispered, "Fine. I'll apologize."

Vincent looked satisfied. He snapped his fingers, and Sonny handed me a piece of paper.

"Read exactly what it says. Not a word missing."

My hand trembled uncontrollably as I took the paper.

The entire page was a complete reversal of the truth.

It pinned all the blame on me, claiming I’d fabricated the story out of obsessive love and malice, even saying the reports of Vincent's fake death were just a delusion caused by my mental instability.

I had no way out. I could only swallow my rage and record the apology video according to his script.

When it was done, I was numb with cold.

Vincent glanced at the wound on my neck, pulled out his checkbook, and shoved a $5 million cashier's check into my hand.

He let out a deep sigh. "Here's five million as compensation. You should go now. Mia gets upset every time she sees you."

Then he turned and walked out of the ward without looking back.

I floated through the discharge process. The moment I stepped out of the hospital, my phone rang.

It was the executive director of the law firm I had founded.

"Ms. Elena, the board has decided to remove you from your position. Your severance has been transferred to your account."

I paused, finally managing to say, "I understand."

I hung up and scrolled through my phone. The apology video I had just recorded was already trending. All negative news about Mia had been scrubbed clean, not a trace left.

Immediately after, my phone pinged with several messages from Mia.

Photos of the VIP ward piled high with seasonal haute couture, jewelry, and limited-edition bags.

[Elena, look at this. This is just how he spoils me.]

[I'll tell you the truth. He comes to see me every single day.]

[He loves me, not you. Who's the real homewrecker here?]

[Oh, after you hang up this phone call, there's another surprise waiting for you. Stay tuned.]

Standing in the cold autumn wind, tears dripped onto my phone screen.

Just then, I got a call from my mother's cardiologist.

"Ms. Elena, your mother had a sudden cardiac arrest. It's critical. We need to operate immediately!"

Forgetting my grief, I turned and ran wildly back toward the hospital.

As soon as I reached my mother's hospital, a mob of people claiming to be tabloid reporters from New York's underworld swarmed me.

"Ms. Elena, is it true you had a mental breakdown and hallucinated Mr. Castellano's death because he rejected you?"

"Your former classmates say you were an orphan raised by a janitor in Chinatown. Is that true?"

"Knowing full well Mr. Castellano is married, why did you keep harassing and slandering his wife? Can you give us a response?"

Camera flashes blinded me, the noise making my head throb.

I was sweating with anxiety, shoving through the crowd, my voice cracking with desperation.

"Please, let me through! It's an emergency! My mother is dying! I need to get to surgery!"

But they kept blocking me, demanding answers and snapping photos.

In the chaos, my phone slipped from my hand and was trampled into pieces. As I bent down to grab it, a woman slapped me hard across the face.

"Using your dying mother to gain sympathy? Disgusting!"

The woman was seemingly a rabid fan of Mia's, her tone sharp and cruel, full of contempt.

Dizzy from the blow, my cheek burning, despair and rage consumed me.

Just then, hospital security rushed in, shouting, "This is a hospital! No loitering! Get out!"

Seizing the chance, I sprinted upstairs. But the moment I burst into the ward, all my strength drained away.

My adoptive mother lay still on the bed, her face as pale as paper, her lips colorless.

The attending physician stood by the bed, his face full of regret and sorrow.

Seeing me, he sighed heavily. "Ms. Elena, I'm sorry. We did everything we could."

My pupils constricted, darkness swimming before my eyes. I nearly collapsed.

A nurse beside me held me up, whispering, "She was fine an hour ago. A woman came in, argued with her, and the old lady went into cardiac arrest on the spot."

"We initiated the emergency protocol, but the heart donor suddenly backed out."

Grief crushed my chest, but no sound would come out.

I gently shook off the nurse's hand and stumbled to the bedside, taking my mother's cold hand.

The woman who had given me warmth and strength in my darkest times would never open her eyes again, never call my name with a smile.

After crying until I was empty, I received a message from Leo. He told me he had compiled all the evidence.

Dragging my numb body, I walked onto the Brooklyn Bridge.

I recorded a video there, scheduling it to post automatically, and attached all the evidence Leo had given me. Then, without a shred of hesitation, I jumped.

On the other side of town, Vincent was accompanying Mia to her prenatal checkup, discussing potential names for the baby.

That's when Sonny's call came through.

"Vincent! Elena just jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge!"