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?

Third Person's POV

When Henrietta woke up again, she found herself lying on a hospital bed. Then the sharp smell of disinfectant stung her eyes, making them ache.

From outside the door, she heard nurses whispering.

“I heard Mr. Ravenscroft booked the entire top floor of the hospital just for his sister to rest. He really is a sister-obsessed man.”

“That’s nothing. Didn’t Mr. Ravenscroft win a ruby necklace worth over ten million at an auction not long ago? When I went to change Miss Ravenscroft’s dressing today, she was already wearing it.”

“Poor Mrs. Ravenscroft… She’s so badly injured, yet her husband is staying by his adopted sister’s bed, taking care of nothing more than a few scratches.”

Henrietta felt numb. But after a long while, she forced herself out of bed and went to handle the discharge procedures on her own.

As she passed Annelise’s hospital room, she couldn’t help glancing inside.

She saw all those so-called friends who used to flatter and fawn over her now crowding around Annelise, fussing over her with concern.

And the husband she once tried so desperately to please was smiling as he fed Annelise spoon by spoon.

Annelise’s happiness was blinding—so bright it stabbed straight into Henrietta’s heart.

She pulled her thoughts back and was about to leave when a group of men in black suddenly surged up from the stairwell.

They moved fast. In an instant, they seized Henrietta, pressing a sharp blade against her neck as they dragged her into the ward.

“Raphael! Your wife is in my hands! If you want her alive, give up the dock business!” the man in black threatened.

Panicked screams erupted, and Annelise burst into tears in terror.

“Raphael, I’m scared!”

Despite that, Raphael ignored everything else and gently comforted her first. Then he turned coldly toward the kidnappers and coldly corrected, “You’ve got the wrong person. She’s not my wife. We divorced a long time ago.”

“Even if you kill her, it has nothing to do with me,” he even added.

And when he said those words, his eyes were colder than a glacier.

Hearing his response, Henrietta’s heart shook violently. She couldn’t stop herself from shouting, “Raphael, are you even human?!”

Yet Raphael only looked at her with a faint, mocking smile. “Didn’t you say it yourself? You wanted a divorce. Henrietta, I told you long ago. Without me, you are nothing!”

With that, he turned back to the kidnappers. “This woman can’t threaten me. Kill her if you want. Just don’t disturb my sister. Otherwise, I’ll make sure you die horribly.”

Henrietta never imagined that in a moment where lives were on the line, Raphael could say something so heartless.

And yet, he protected Annelise with absolute devotion.

Love or indifference—wasn’t the difference already painfully clear?

The kidnappers clearly hadn’t expected Raphael to be this ruthless, to treat even his wife’s life as worthless. Enraged and humiliated, they turned the blade toward him instead.

“Raphael!”

At the critical moment, Annelise stepped in front of Raphael. As a result, the knife plunged straight through her back, blood spilling everywhere.

“Annelise!” Raphael’s pupils shrank, fury and panic exploding in his eyes.

He kicked the attacker away with savage force. With only minimal effort, he knocked the entire group of kidnappers to the ground. The sound of ribs snapping echoed one after another, enough to make one’s scalp tingle.

Immediately after, Raphael made a phone call and summoned his bodyguards.

“Get rid of them. For every injury Annelise suffered, make them pay a thousandfold!” he gravely instructed.

Henrietta stood frozen, her heart already dead.

So, he could deal with the kidnappers easily.

Yet he had allowed them to press a blade against her carotid artery without hesitation.

He could also tremble in fear, his eyes red with tears, but only for another woman.

In a daze, Henrietta followed Raphael to the operating room, watching him pace anxiously, watching him clasp his hands together in prayer.

She didn’t know how much time passed before the operating room lights finally went out and the doctor announced that Annelise was out of danger.

The heart Raphael had been holding in his throat finally dropped back into place. He rushed forward, clutching Annelise’s hand as he cried uncontrollably.

“Thank God… thank God you’re okay!”

Annelise’s face was pale, yet filled with bliss. “As long as I can protect you, even if I die, it would be worth it.”

But Raphael shook his head, rejecting her words outright. “No, Annelise. If you die, I won’t live either.”

At that moment, Henrietta heard the sound of her heart shattering into pieces.

She swallowed all her grievances and turned, ready to leave.

But Annelise suddenly called out to her. “Henrietta, your neck is injured, too. Don’t you want a doctor to check the wound?”

Before Henrietta could answer, Raphael spoke coldly, “If she hadn’t brought those kidnappers here, how would you have been hurt this badly? What right does she have to treat her injuries?”

Only then did he finally lift his gaze to Henrietta.

“Hurry up and apologize to Annelise,” he commanded.

Humiliation, rage, and despair surged together in her chest. Yet Henrietta’s eyes remained sharp.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said coldly. “I’m not apologizing to her.”

With that, she turned around and walked away without looking back.

That night, when Henrietta returned home, she began packing her things.

She took all the gifts Raphael had casually given her over the years, along with every couple item she had impulsively bought, and burned them one by one into ashes.

Just like the little love she had left for Raphael, all of it turned to dust.