Third Person's POV

After nine long months of pregnancy, Henrietta Ashbourne finally gave birth to her first child with Raphael Ravenscroft.

Raphael was ecstatic. His hands trembled as he took the baby from the nurse’s arms.

“Baby,” he said softly, voice unsteady with excitement, “how about I take you to see your mom?”

Before anyone could react, he carried the baby straight to his adopted sister, Annelise Ravenscroft. His tone was so gentle it barely sounded like him as he said, “Annelise, haven’t you always wanted a child? From now on, you’ll be this child’s mother.”

Annelise froze, then shyly waved her hands in refusal. “Raphael, I don't think that's right. This is your and your wife’s child.”

“So what?” Raphael cut her off with a doting chuckle. “If she wants to have a child, she can have one anytime. But you... You’re different. You have a luteal phase defect. I can’t bear to let you suffer just to have a child.”

Every word sounded perfectly reasonable.

Yet to Henrietta, they landed like thunder. Her already pale face drained of all color, shock flooding her eyes.

Ignoring the fact that her cesarean wound hadn’t even healed, she forced herself up and staggered toward Raphael. The moment she reached him, she raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face.

“Raphael, open your eyes and look!” she shouted, voice shaking with rage. “This is our child, not some tool you use to please her! No matter how biased you are, there should be a limit!”

Her chest heaved violently with fury.

She had lost count of how many times Raphael had trampled on her feelings and dignity like this—all for Annelise.

Ever since Annelise divorced and returned to the Ravenscrofts, Raphael had become a completely different person.

With Henrietta, he was always aloof, proud, distant—untouchable.

But with Annelise, he lowered himself entirely, showing a kind of tenderness Henrietta had never once received.

When Annelise had nightmares in the middle of the night, he abandoned Henrietta—who was burning with a high fever—and stayed up all night by Annelise’s side, reading her Andersen’s fairy tales like she was a child.

And when Annelise wanted cake from the north side of the city, he didn’t hesitate to leave Henrietta—who was already on the verge of labour—on the highway, turning back just to buy Annelise that cake.

Lastly, when Annelise took an interest in Henrietta’s research report, he handed over years of Henrietta’s hard work without a second thought and published it under Annelise’s name.

And now—now he was biased enough to give her child to Annelise!

A sharp, indescribable pain stabbed through Henrietta’s heart.

Enduring both physical agony and emotional torment, she reached out, desperate to take back her own flesh and blood.

But Raphael merely kicked her aside.

With a dull thud, Henrietta crashed to the floor.

Her abdominal wound tore open in that instant, and pain exploded through her body, spreading to every limb. Her eyes burned red with fury as she shouted, “Raphael! Give my child back to me!”

But he just coldly looked down at her and irritatingly spat, “Annelise likes children. Do you really have to fight her over this?”

“Fight?” Henrietta laughed bitterly, tears spilling uncontrollably. “Raphael, this is the child I carried for nine months! My own flesh and blood! Am I really fighting for it—or are you helping her steal it?”

As soon as she finished speaking, Annelise put on that familiar timid expression again, eyes brimming with tears she didn’t quite let fall—pitiful enough to break anyone’s heart.

“Henrietta,” she said softly, “Raphael only feels sorry for me because I can’t have children due to my condition. That’s why he kindly wants me to raise the baby. You don’t have to speak so harshly…" She paused, biting her lip. "If you really don’t want it, then… then I won’t take the child.”

Listen to that.

How generous she sounded.

As if she were the one suffering a grave injustice.

Suddenly, the baby’s cry pierced the long night.

But soon, that once-strong wail weakened, and the baby’s face turned from flushed red to a lifeless bluish purple.

Doctors rushed in at the sound. One glance was enough for their expressions to change drastically as they urgently ordered the medical staff to prepare for emergency surgery.

“The baby’s vital signs are disappearing. Suspected bacterial infection. Mr. Ravenscroft, please hand the baby over immediately for emergency treatment!” the doctor urged.

Hearing that, a loud ringing exploded in Henrietta’s ears. Her mind went completely blank, and her body stiffened as if frozen. She couldn’t care about anything else anymore.

Trembling from head to toe, she screamed at Raphael, “Raphael! This is a matter of life and death—give the baby to the doctors, now!”

Even Annelise pretended to give in, her voice choked with sobs as she chimed in, “She's right, Raphael… let them save the baby first. Don't mind me.”

But Raphael only wiped away her tears tenderly, his eyes full of affection as he comforted her.

“Annelise, your heart is too soft. But I won’t let you suffer any injustice.”

With a single glance from him, his assistant hurried over and handed Henrietta a document.

She stared blankly at the Custody Transfer Agreement in her hands, while Raphael’s icy voice rang in her ears.

“Sign it. Transfer the child to Annelise. Otherwise, you’ll be the murderer who killed your own child.”

Each word sliced into her heart, cold and merciless.

Henrietta completely broke down.

“Raphael, do you even know what you’re saying? This is your child, too!”

The air was freezing, but Raphael was colder still.

“Will you sign it or not?”

Second by second, time slipped away. The child’s life hung by a thread.

Left with no choice, Henrietta collapsed into compromise.

“Fine! I’ll sign.”

Her hands shook violently as she signed the agreement.

Raphael indeed kept his word.

But it was already too late.

The doctor emerged with regret written all over his face.

“I'm sorry, but we did everything we could. Please accept our condolences.”

With a deafening crash, Henrietta felt as if the sky itself had collapsed.

She stumbled toward the gurney covered in white cloth. Her fingers trembled uncontrollably, losing strength the moment they touched the edge of the fabric—until she suddenly ripped it away.

“My baby… my baby!” Henrietta sobbed hysterically. “Open your eyes and look at Mommy!”

But her child had only taken one hurried glance at this world—then left it.

Like a gust of wind—violent when it came, silent when it went—leaving her nothing but hollow joy and endless regret.

A heavy sorrow blanketed the hospital.

Yet Raphael acted as if nothing had happened. He simply covered Annelise’s eyes and lightly remarked, “It’s filthy. Don’t look.”

Then he wrapped an arm around her and walked away without once looking back.

Henrietta, on the other hand, stayed by her child until dawn.

At last, she picked up her phone and dialed the number of Raphael’s sworn enemy.

“You said before that you wanted to recruit me to the overseas headquarters with a high salary,” she said hoarsely. “I now accept it.”

Third Person's POV

After hanging up the phone, Henrietta buried her child.

She then spent another three days arranging a simple funeral.

Outside the window, the wind rustled softly, pulling her thoughts back to that rainy night five years ago.

Fresh out of graduate school, she had successfully landed the position of Raphael’s chief secretary.

Yet on her very first day, she was forced by a client to drink excessively.

When she was alone and helpless, Raphael suddenly stood up.

Under countless shocked gazes, he calmly removed his suit jacket and, without any warning, swung a hard punch straight into the client’s face.

Then, in the coldest tone imaginable, he said the warmest words she had ever heard.

“No matter how far our company has fallen, we will never rely on our secretaries drinking with clients just to secure cooperation.”

It was as if a savior had descended—walking straight into her heart.

Always someone who loved fiercely and hated just as boldly, she pursued Raphael with unrestrained passion. Her feelings were loud, intense, and unapologetic.

But to everyone else, it looked like a mouse dreaming of being a lion.

As for Raphael, he never responded even once.

After clinging on for two long years, just as she finally decided to give up and resign, Raphael suddenly chased her to the airport.

No flowers.

No ring.

Just one cold sentence.

“Weren’t you chasing me? Then marry me.”

She was so overwhelmed with happiness at that moment that she nearly fainted. She truly believed the hell finally froze over—and without a second thought, she went with him to get their marriage licence.

Until their wedding night.

The man who never touched alcohol was drunk and spoke the truth at last.

“Annelise… I miss you so much, I’m going crazy. If only you weren’t my adopted sister.”

Henrietta picked up the photo he had dropped onto the floor.

The girl in it looked gentle and delicate, her features bearing a faint resemblance to Henrietta’s own.

And yet, Henrietta knew very clearly.

Between her and Annelise, she was nothing more than a disposable substitute.

Three years.

Even a stone should have warmed by then.

Yet Henrietta couldn’t stop herself from hoping—year after year.

But in the end, what she got was her child’s corpse and a single message from Raphael.

[Do you know what you did wrong?]

Henrietta stared at the message, then instinctively tapped into his profile.

In his posts, she saw that for the three days of the funeral, Raphael and Annelise had enjoyed themselves for three days straight.

While her child’s ashes were laid to rest, they were partying all night on a yacht, declaring that when they died, their ashes would be scattered into the sea—chasing freedom together.

While prayers were offered for the child’s soul, they walked hand in hand into a church, asking for blessings of health and a carefree life.

While she kept vigil for her child, Raphael lit three thousand candles.

Every single prayer was for Annelise.

It felt as if something sharp stabbed straight into her heart, dense pain spreading from her limbs into her blood.

Eventually, Henrietta decisively blocked both of them from her feed and contacted a lawyer to prepare a divorce agreement.

When Raphael returned home, what he saw was Henrietta sitting cold-faced on the sofa with a divorce agreement laid neatly on the table.

“Raphael, let’s get a divorce,” she emotionlessly said and looked up at him with fury and disappointment tightly suppressed in her eyes.

He didn’t answer her right away. Instead, he gently comforted Annelise first.

“You go upstairs first, take a shower, and get some sleep.”

Only after making sure Annelise had returned to her room did he stroll over to Henrietta, lazily leaning against the sofa.

“What are you trying to stir up this time?”

“I want a divorce,” Henrietta straightforwardly answered and pushed the agreement toward him, her expression calm and unyielding.

Raphael laughed in anger.

“Henrietta, think it through. Where do you think you can go after leaving me?”

He was arrogant to the bone, utterly convinced of his own superiority.

Assuming she was playing hard to get, he signed the divorce papers without a second thought and said, “Once you’ve cooled off, go apologize. Don’t keep Annelise waiting too long.”

With that, he got up and went upstairs—just like always—to coax Annelise to sleep.

Listening to the intimate murmurs drifting down from above, Henrietta let out a self-mocking laugh and sent the signed agreement to her lawyer without the slightest hesitation.

As long as she made it through the one-month cooling-off period, she and Raphael would disappear from each other’s lives forever.

With that thought, Henrietta—who had been holding herself together for three years—finally relaxed. For the first time in ages, she slept until she woke naturally.

After waking up, she went to the company, intending to submit her resignation to HR.

Instead, she saw Annelise sitting at her desk, directing bodyguards as they packed up her belongings.

“What are you doing?” Henrietta demanded as she rushed forward to stop them.

Annelise smiled sweetly and answered, “Henrietta, I was so bored at home. Raphael said I could come to the company and be his secretary.”

The smile hid a blade, and it made Henrietta sick to her stomach.

But what disgusted her even more was how easily Raphael had replaced her. What would people in the industry think of her now?

Before she could speak, Annelise leaned close to her ear and laughed softly. “That little bastard is dead anyway. You must be heartbroken, right? Then just stay home and rest. I’ll take very good care of Raphael for you.”

Each word was like an ice blade dipped in poison.

Quickly, Henrietta felt her blood surge violently. In rage, she raised her hand to slap her, but her wrist was suddenly seized in a crushing grip.

“Henrietta! What the fuck are you trying to do now?!” Raphael roared.

Third Person's POV

Raphael’s grip was so strong it felt as if he were about to crush her bones.

Without a hitch, he flung Henrietta’s hand away and immediately rushed to Annelise.

“Annelise, are you okay? Did she hurt you?” he worriedly asked.

As always, Annelise put on a pitiful, fragile expression as she aggrievedly replied, “I’m fine. I just acted on my own and came to be your secretary… Maybe that’s why Henrieatta is upset with me.”

Hearing this, Henrietta’s eyes turned bloodshot as she stared at her.

“Annelise, stop pretending! If you’ve got the guts, repeat what you just whispered to me. Say it out loud!”

“That’s enough!” Raphael cut her off impatiently. The look he gave her was icy enough to pierce skin. “I’m the one who asked Annelise to be my secretary. This has nothing to do with her. If you have any resentment, take it out on me!”

“What’s more, I did this for your own good. Your emotions have been unstable lately. You’re no longer fit for the secretary position,” he added, as if he was doing her a favor.

That single phrase—no longer fit—completely erased all her abilities and achievements.

As if the woman who drank herself into a stomach hemorrhage just to secure his contracts, who risked her life intercepting clients on the highway, who stayed silent under kidnapping threats to protect company secrets, had never been her.

When it came to cruelty, Raphael really stood unrivaled.

Staring at his cold, ruthless face, Henrietta felt as if she had never truly known him.

After a long time forcing her voice out through the lump in her throat, she finally managed to remark, “Raphael, if it weren’t for her, my child wouldn’t have died. None of this would have happened today. And you’re telling me she’s not at fault?”

A chill flashed through Raphael’s eyes.

“You’re the one who refused to sign and kept delaying. That’s why the child died. It has nothing to do with Annelise.”

Just like that, in a few short sentences, every ounce of blame was dumped onto her.

At that instant, the atmosphere grew unbearably heavy.

Sensing it, Annelise stepped in to smooth things over.

“Raphael, why are you being so harsh on Henrietta?”

As she spoke, she hypocritically moved closer and tried to hook her arm around Henrietta’s, as if to apologize.

But Henrietta instinctively tried to shake her off.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Ah!” A piercing scream rang through the entire floor, and with a loud thud, Annelise fell hard to the ground.

Panic instantly replaced the frost on Raphael’s face. He crouched in front of Annelise, anxiously and tenderly checking her over.

“Does it hurt? Are you injured anywhere? I’ll take you to the hospital!”

But Annelise stopped him. Her eyes, misted with tears, turned toward Henrietta.

“Henrietta, no matter how much you dislike me, you can’t just push me like that!”

Even without knowing what actually happened, Raphael lashed out furiously.

“Henrietta, if you’re sick, go see a fucking doctor! Who gave you permission to lay a hand on Annelise?!”

Henrietta stared blankly at her own hand.

She clearly… hadn’t touched Annelise at all.

“Raphael, are you blind? I didn’t touch her—she fell on her own! If you don’t believe me, check the surveillance—” Henrietta tried to explain.

But before she could finish, Annelise burst into tears.

“Is pushing me not enough for you, Henrietta? So, now you want to frame me and say I staged it myself?”

She cried beautifully, pitiful as falling petals in the rain.

As expected, Raphael’s heart ached, and he clumsily tried to comfort her.

But when he turned back to Henrietta, his gaze was sharp as a blade.

“You dare hit Annelise right in front of me. Who knows how viciously you lay your hand on her behind my back!” he confidently assumed.

Then he spat, “If you do something wrong, you pay the price. Don’t you like pushing people? Then you should experience what that feels like yourself!”

With that, he ordered the bodyguards behind him.

“Do it.”

Henrietta’s pupils shrank violently as she tremblingly asked, “What are you trying to do?”

The next second, two bodyguards dragged her by force to the stairwell. Before she could even react, they shoved her down hard.

As a result, Henrietta tumbled down three full flights of stairs before finally stopping. Her entire back was shredded from the friction, skin torn open and soaked in blood. Her clothes were also ripped apart, exposing swaths of flesh.

Even worse, the back of her head slammed hard against the wall. So, blood poured out instantly, staining the white walls a shocking red.

Soon, the wail of an ambulance siren filled the air.

Barely conscious, Henrietta instinctively reached out and faintly said, “Help… me…”

But the words that reached her ears were colder than ice.

“Save Annelise first,” Raphael firmly instructed.

The medical staff looked at Henrietta, then at Annelise. Seeing the former covered in blood and gravely injured, and the latter hadn’t suffered so much as a scratch, their expressions turned conflicted.

After hesitation, one of the staff finally spoke, pointing to Henrietta. “Mr. Ravenscroft, if Madam isn’t treated immediately, her life could be in danger.”

But Raphael only coldly replied, “That’s her own fault.”

It was only four short words, but each carried the chill of a death sentence.

Henrietta’s heart shook violently, and tears blurred her vision. Yet she suddenly laughed—hollow, reckless, broken.

“Fine. Fine. What a perfect ‘she brought it on herself,’” she murmured.

Raphael, have you finally stopped pretending?