I couldn’t tell how long I had been trapped in that icy void. My skin felt colorless and stiff, my lips split and dry, my breathing uneven and weak. My hands were curled tightly against my chest, clinging to whatever faint warmth my body could still produce. But right before the cold completely claimed me… the memories surged back.

“Put her in there,” Isabel snarled, every word sharp with cruelty. “If she enjoys stirring chaos in my house, then let the cold teach her a lesson.”

The two maids holding me hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances.

“She’s ill, Señora… this doesn’t feel right—”

“I said put her in!” Isabel barked. “She touched me with those cursed hands and nearly killed me and my grandchild! Layla was hurt too! Can’t you see it? She is the curse hanging over this family. Let the freezing air drain the poison out of her.”

“I didn’t mean to—please,” I begged, clutching my blanket weakly, my throat raw. “Please don’t do this. Call Mateo—he wouldn’t allow this… he wouldn’t…”

But even as I pleaded, the world began to blur.

Because then I heard hurried footsteps charging down the hallway.

Mateo.

I screamed his name with everything left in me.

“Mateo! Please! Mateo, I need you!”

He rushed past the corridor—Layla in his arms, shouting orders, his jacket barely clinging to his shoulders, panic blazing across his face.

“She’s bleeding again. Prepare the car for the hospital. Nothing can happen to this baby!”

He never once looked my way.

I reached out from the floor with shaking fingers.

“Mateo…!”

But his back was already disappearing around the corner.

Already gone.

“Wait… please…” My knees buckled beneath me.

“Do it now,” Isabel said coldly. “Before she causes more trouble.”

I jolted back to awareness when someone suddenly entered.

It was Mateo.

He wrapped a blanket around me hurriedly. “Isla—God, Isla! I didn’t know she truly went through with it. I thought she was bluffing. You know how my mother is when she’s angry—she says horrible things she doesn’t mean.”

My teeth rattled uncontrollably. I couldn’t even form words.

He rubbed warmth back into my arms, frantic with guilt. “I’m sorry… about the necklace too. I understand now—it was your mother’s. The last piece you had of them. I was an idiot. I should’ve stopped her.”

I stayed silent. The slight curl of my lips wasn’t relief—it was bitterness.

“You’ll feel better soon, okay?” he said quickly. “Tomorrow we’ll finalize the merger contract. I really need you present, so you have to recover. Afterward, I’ll buy you dozens of necklaces just like that one.”

He laughed faintly and kissed my forehead, as if survival had earned me a prize.

Ah. Of course.

The merger.

That was why I was rescued.

Because I was still useful.

He lifted me carefully into his arms and started toward the bedroom. “You’re burning up,” he said suddenly, alarm creeping into his voice. “You’ve got a fever. We need to get you to the hospital.”

“No.” My voice rasped weakly, barely sound—but I forced it out.

He stopped. “No?”

I pressed against his chest. “I want a divorce.”

He went completely still. “What?” His voice came out fragile, disbelieving.

“I want to end this, Mateo. I’m done.”

“No, wait—Isla. You’re sick. You’re emotional. I apologized, didn’t I? Please, don’t do this.” His eyes widened in panic. “I should’ve stopped my mother. I shouldn’t have believed Layla. But I was scared for the baby, okay? She said she was bleeding, and I panicked. I didn’t realize—didn’t know it was all an accident.”

A dry, painful laugh escaped me, followed by a cough.

“Of course. The baby.”

His gaze flickered, as if he could hear every accusation in my silence.

“It’s not mine.”

“Isn’t it?”

He swallowed. “No. Of course not. I just… she had no one. I felt sorry for her.”

Pity.

The same pity that let him erase me piece by piece.

Mateo stepped closer, brushing my hair back gently. “If you want me to cut her off, I will. I’ll focus only on us. No divorce. Please, let me take care of you now, okay?”

He lifted me again carefully, murmuring apologies under his breath.

Then the door creaked open.

Layla stood there.

Her eyes were red. Her voice trembled.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to be a burden,” she whispered. “Maybe I should leave again. Maybe that’s what you want—to get rid of me, right?”

Mateo turned toward her. “Layla—”

“But I’m bleeding again,” she said quietly.

Everything froze.

She clutched her stomach. “Maybe this baby deserves it… maybe I do too.”

Then she turned and ran down the hallway, sobbing.

“No! Layla!” Mateo shouted in panic. He set me down so abruptly my knees nearly gave out.

“Mateo,” I croaked. “You promised—”

But he was already rushing after her.

“I’m sorry!” he yelled back. “I’ll send someone to help you—Layla needs me right now!”

“What about me?!” I cried out.

He glanced back once, hesitation flickering across his face.

“You’re strong, Isla. You always have been. The butler will take care of you.”

Then he was gone.

The door slammed shut.

I waited.

Minutes passed.

Then nearly an hour.

No one came.

The cold from the freezer still lived inside my bones. My head spun, skin burning, vision trembling. I dragged myself upright using the wall for support, every step feeling like iron shackles dragging across my soul.

Somehow, I reached the car.

Somehow, I drove.

My hands shook on the steering wheel, sweat soaked through my clothes, my vision fading in and out—but I made it to the nearest hospital.

When I finally woke again, my phone rang.

Luigi’s voice came through the line, tight with urgency.

“I heard what happened,” he said. “I’m coming for you. Right now.”

I sat silently against the far wall of the hospital room, the thin blanket still draped over my shoulders even though I no longer felt the cold. The pain had reached a point where it simply stopped hurting. There was nothing left inside me that could ache.

The gentle chime of a message pulled me back. It was from my attorney.

Divorce documents are complete. Ready for service.

I took a deep breath, ignoring the dull tension pulling at the bandages around my arm. My hands didn’t shake as I typed my response.

Serve them tomorrow. At the merger event. Make the announcement humiliating. I want the entire board to witness him fall.

A few seconds later, the reply came.

Understood.

I let my phone rest in my palm, staring at the screen. Then another notification appeared. This time, it was from Isabel.

You shameless witch. I heard what happened. Don’t pretend to be on your deathbed tomorrow. The merger is set and we need your signature. Don’t sabotage it. You no longer have a family. All you have left is us, so cooperate and hand over control of the company.

My lips parted in disbelief, but no sound came out. I felt nothing—no anger, no sadness—only a strange, hollow calm.

I was about to toss my phone aside when another alert flashed on the screen.

It was from Luigi.

I found out the truth about the accident. I’m close. Don’t go anywhere.

Before I could reply, another message followed—this time with a video attached.

My heartbeat stalled.

I tapped it.

The footage was grainy, clearly pulled from an old security camera. Flickering. Silent at first. A timestamp glowed in the corner. The image sharpened—and there she was.

Isabel.

She stood in a poorly lit parking structure, her figure half-shadowed. At first, her voice was indistinct. Then the audio sharpened, and every word struck like shards of ice.

“Make it look accidental. Something with the brakes. Nothing too obvious.”

My stomach plunged.

“I don’t care how you manage it. Just do it before the auction. End it quickly. Her parents had far too much influence. It’s time she remembers who really controls this family.”

My lungs seized.

I replayed it.

Once.

Twice.

Then a third time.

My fingers trembled so badly I almost dropped the phone. My vision smeared at the edges, but I couldn’t look away.

And as if fate hadn’t finished twisting the blade, another message arrived.

This time—from Mateo.

Stay away from Layla. Don’t show up near her. She’s fragile right now and terrified you’ll hurt the baby. Just be present at the merger tomorrow. Afterward, I’ll take you on a nice vacation to settle things.

A broken laugh forced its way out of my chest and tangled with quiet sobs. I didn’t respond.

I blocked him.

Then I stood.

There was one final thing I needed to do before disappearing for good.

I moved through the sterile white corridors of the hospital until I found the room I was looking for. Mateo wasn’t there.

Good.

Layla lifted her head as I entered. A slow smirk curved her lips.

“Well, well. Look who decided to rise from the grave—the dead bride herself.”

I stepped inside without answering.

“What?” she scoffed. “Here to lash out at me? Don’t humiliate yourself, Isla. Mateo never loved you. Even his own mother despised you. Honestly? If you’d just die already, things would finally be perfect for us.”

My hands balled into fists at my sides. But when I looked at her, fragments of the past surfaced—cutting class together, childish secrets, pinky promises under moonlight. Two girls dreaming of futures that never imagined betrayal would be part of the story.

“I used to love you,” I said quietly. “You were my closest friend. You were my sister before everything else destroyed that.”

Layla rolled her eyes.

“Don’t turn this into a tragedy monologue. You stole him from me.”

“No,” I replied, voice firm. “You abandoned him. You ran when things got hard. I stayed. I married him. I built his world from the ground up.”

Her laughter was sharp and bitter.

“And that was your weakness.”

“And this”—I said, reaching into my pocket—“belongs to you now.”

I slid my wedding ring from my finger and flung it toward her. It bounced once against the bed before landing in her lap with a hollow clink.

“There,” I said coldly. “Put it on. Be the perfect Mrs. Madrigal. Play the role. Pretend it stands for something real.”

For the first time, her smile faltered.

“And don’t ever let him crawl back to me,” I added. “Because I won’t be here when he does.”

She snorted.

“Trust me. He won’t even look for you.”

“I truly hope that’s the case.”

I turned away.

The moment I stepped back into the hallway, I saw him.

Luigi.

Dressed in black. Sunglasses tucked into the collar of his shirt. His gaze scanned the corridor until it landed on me.

“There you are,” he said softly, his arms closing around me. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

“It’s fine,” I murmured against his chest. “You still came.”

He nodded, brushing my hair back gently.

“Are you ready?”

“More than I ever have been.”

We left the hospital side by side.

At the airport, I walked straight to the trash bin near the gate. I pulled out my phone, snapped the SIM card clean in half, and dropped both pieces inside without hesitation.

Then I boarded the plane.

And for the first time in a long while, as the cabin doors sealed shut behind me, I could finally breathe—because soon enough, every one of them would regret what they had done to me.