"Stay right there. About your father—sign Rick's letter of forgiveness first. Only then can you leave."

I was so furious I laughed. She had personally smashed my hands, yet she wanted me to sign a letter of forgiveness for her lover?

"I'm not qualified to sign that."

Clearly, Clara took my words as an excuse—a form of bargaining. She shot me a contemptuous glance, pulled out a card from her bag, and tossed it at my feet.

"Not enough money? Is three thousand enough? Your country bumpkin father wouldn't earn that in a year, right? Tommy, you should be grateful."

I looked at her beautiful face and, for the first time, found it utterly repulsive.

"Clara, you and Rick really are a perfect match. One ruthless, one venomous—a pair of filth."

Enraged, she slapped me across the face. The sting burned, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my right hand.

"Tommy, have I been too lenient with you?" She glared at me. "You want a divorce? Fine! Once this is settled, we'll divorce immediately!"

Spencer, who had been listening, finally understood and shouted at her, "Ms. Stevens! You've lost your mind! The one who died on that operating table—that was your own father!"

This time, Clara didn't spare him either. She backhanded him, sending him staggering.

"Throw him out!"

She pointed at Spencer, roaring at the bodyguards, "Such a foul mouth! How dare he curse my father! I'll call my dad right now and have him fire you!"

As the bodyguards dragged him away, Spencer struggled in vain.

"Ms. Stevens! You can't do this! Mr. Stevens has—"

Rick clutched Clara's sleeve, his face pale with fear. "Clara, what do I do? I don't want to be arrested…"

"Don't be afraid."

Clara patted his hand soothingly. Just then, her assistant hurried in and placed two documents in her hands.

A divorce agreement—and a letter of forgiveness from the victim's family.

Clara threw the papers in front of me, along with a pen.

"Sign it, and you can get lost."

"I'll sign the divorce papers later. But the forgiveness letter—I can't sign it."

Her patience snapped. Her eyes turned sharp as she barked at the bodyguards beside her, "Hold him down! Use his handprint!"

They seized my mangled fingers and, using my own blood as ink, pressed them hard onto the signature line of the letter.

The pain was so intense I nearly blacked out again. I could only grit my teeth, forcing myself not to make a sound.

"There, Rick. Everything's taken care of now."

Holding the bloodstained document, Clara turned to Rick with a look of triumph, as if claiming credit.

I watched her, that utterly foolish expression on her face, and felt nothing but ridicule.

Did she even realize that the man she was so desperate to protect… was the true killer of her own father?

I wrenched myself free from the bodyguards and staggered out of the room.

The moment I reached the hallway, I saw Spencer rushing toward us with two police officers.

Pointing at Rick, he shouted, "Officers! That's him! He's the driver who hit someone and fled!"

Rick turned deathly pale and immediately hid behind Clara.

She stepped in front of him, raising her chin arrogantly at the police. "You can't take him! We have a forgiveness letter from the victim's family!"

She handed over the bloodstained paper.

The officer took it, glanced at it, and frowned.

"This letter of forgiveness is invalid. The victim's name is Roger Stevens. Not Ellis Connolly."

Clara froze completely.

"What? Roger Stevens? My dad?"