But I never made a sound.

If it meant saving Bill, I'd give whatever they needed.

The moment I walked out of the operating room, I went straight to the hallway outside his ward and didn't leave for sixteen hours.

When Bill finally came out of the sterile unit, I was so dizzy I couldn't stay on my feet.

He pulled me into his arms and broke down—sobbing so hard it sounded like something inside him was tearing apart.

He said I'd given him his life. He said if he ever betrayed me, he deserved to die screaming, in this life and every life after.

But three months ago, Vivien came back from overseas.

And everything changed.

Bone marrow, eight hours on that table, my body wrecked for him—and none of it could compete with a childhood spent growing up next door.

"Melinda, are you deaf?!"

Bill had finally lost his patience.

He bent down, grabbed my wrist, and hauled me off the floor to where Vivien stood.

"Apologize to Viv—now!!"

The pain in my lower back tore through me like a live wire, so bad I wanted to die right there on the spot.

"Billy, if she really doesn't want to apologize, just let it go…"

Vivien curled against Bill's chest, her voice dripping with wounded softness.

Rage slammed straight up into my chest.

I raised my hand and slapped Vivien hard across the face.

Then I grabbed a full bottle of champagne from the table beside me and poured it over her head.

"Ahh—!"

Vivien shrieked and burrowed into Bill's arms.

He tore off his jacket and threw it around Vivien's shoulders.

"Melinda, have you lost your mind?!"

Bill came at me red-eyed, full force, and shoved me straight back into the champagne tower that stood taller than either of us.

My lower back was already screaming.

He hadn't held back at all.

My legs buckled and I crashed into the tower.

The whole structure came down at once.

Ice-cold wine and shattered glass rained over me.

A tearing agony ripped across my back.

Glass sliced me open everywhere—arms, neck, wrists, legs—too many cuts to feel separately, just a spreading fire across my skin.

Blood beaded and ran down my body, mixing with champagne.

Crimson soaked through the white gown again.

Over the stains already there, it bloomed outward like dark red flowers.

The crowd of onlookers went silent all at once.

Something shifted behind Bill's eyes—there and gone before it had a name.

He took two slow steps forward, stared at me for several seconds, and opened his mouth.

"Melinda, you—"

"Billy, I'm so cold…"

Vivien's thin whimper cut him off mid-step.

"Billy, the doctor said my body's too weak, I can't get chilled. The champagne is so cold on my skin…"

Bill's gaze went cold.

He turned and walked quickly to Vivien, pulling her into his arms.

Over and over, he murmured to her, soft and low.

"It's okay, it's okay. I'm here. Don't be scared. I'll hold you, you'll warm up soon…"

I watched him look at Vivien—all that softness, all that worry—and felt everything inside me go hollow.

He must have forgotten.

Three years ago, after the bone marrow donation, he'd dragged me back to the doctor's office over and over, asking what I needed, what to watch for, what could go wrong.

The doctor told him I was already fragile, and after this I absolutely could not get hurt or catch cold—it would do too much damage.

Bill had pulled out a little notebook and written every word down, line by line.

For three years, he hadn't let a single drop of rain touch me.

But now, as I stood there soaked in ice-cold champagne and covered in blood, all he could see was her.

Under Bill's steady stream of gentle reassurance,

Vivien's sobbing gradually quieted.

Bill seemed to finally let out a breath of relief.

He took Vivien by the hand, walked her over to where I lay, bent down to look at me covered in blood, and his face twisted with cold disgust.

"Why are you still standing here? Go clean yourself up!"

"Get out. You're embarrassing me."

I dragged myself upright, clinging to the voice I'd heard on that phone call, and hugged my own shoulders as I staggered toward the door.

But the moment I turned, Vivien's petulant whine rose behind me.

"Billy, she hasn't even apologized to me yet. You're just letting her leave…?"

"Everyone in Crestmont is going to think I'm a joke anyone can push around…"

"No rush."

Bill's voice went soft for her.

"Once she's your sister-in-law, she'll have the rest of her life to apologize."

"No!"

Vivien pulled free of his arms, her tone climbing higher with injury.

"Billy, are you feeling sorry for her? Do I even matter to you anymore?!"

"You promised you'd keep me safe—that's the only reason I gave up everything over there and came back…"

"That's not it!"

Bill rushed to explain,

then strode forward and planted himself in front of me.

"You're not leaving. Apologize to Vivien first."

"Actually, I don't need her apology anymore."

Vivien sauntered over, putting on that wispy little performance of hers, and pressed herself against Bill's chest. One finger pointed at the chain around my neck, her voice going syrup-sweet.

"I want that necklace. Call it her way of making it up to me…"

Bill didn't hesitate. His eyes locked on mine.

"Take it off."

I clamped my hand around the necklace and ground the words through my teeth.

"My mother left this to me. It's not hers to touch."

The chain looked plain enough,

but it was the only thing I had left of my mother.

And last night, the heir verification chip had been sealed inside it. With that chip, every door in every circle on earth opened for the Sanchez family. It was worth more than everything else the family owned.

I would never hand it over.

"Not hers to touch?"

Contempt and cruelty twisted together in Bill's eyes.

"Listen to me, Melinda. Nothing in all of Crestmont is off-limits to me. And nothing is off-limits to Vivien."

"Take it off. Now."

"Never."

I closed my fist around the necklace and turned to leave, done with both of them.

I made it two steps.

A fist knotted in my hair from behind and wrenched me back. Pain ripped across my scalp and a choked sound tore out of me before I could swallow it.

Bill's bloodshot eyes were right there. He grabbed my shoulder and hauled me in front of him.

The distance between us collapsed in an instant.

His breath, that familiar smell on his skin—it all hit me at once. I'd wasted my whole youth on those things.

Now they turned my stomach.

"Don't make me do this."

He stared me down, biting out each word.

"Take it off yourself, Melinda. While I'm still asking."

"In your dreams."

I wrenched myself free of his grip,

but in that same instant his hand closed around the chain at my throat.

He watched me the way a predator watches something it's already caught, and then he pulled.

The metal links bit into my neck,

cutting a raw red line into the skin.

He kept pulling.

The chain dragged against my skin, each link grinding in, and the pain was so sharp my whole body shook.

"You animal! Let go of me!"

A warped smile tugged at the corner of Bill's mouth. Then he yanked down—hard.

The chain snapped.

The necklace broke apart in his fist.

I reached for my neck. My hand came back covered in blood.

"Bill…"

I lunged for the necklace, but he shoved me back hard.

He placed it in Vivien's hands.

"Anything you want, Viv—I'll get it for you. Doesn't matter what it is. Doesn't matter whose it is."

"Thank you, Billy…"

Vivien nestled against him and turned the necklace over, examining it, then wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Ugh, what a piece of trash. Billy, I don't even want it…"

Before the words had fully left her mouth, she tossed the necklace to the floor and raised her heel high.

"No…!"

I stumbled toward it,

but I was already too late.

Vivien's stiletto came down on the necklace and ground into it without mercy.

My mother's photo inside it, and the Sanchez heir verification chip—Vivien crushed them both to pieces under her heel.

I staggered forward and dropped to my knees, gathering the shattered pieces off the floor one by one, then fixed my eyes on Vivien's smug face.

"You animal!"

"You're dead for breaking that necklace!"

"Dead?"

Bill's mocking laugh came from above me.

He stepped closer and seized my chin.

"Melinda, you really don't know your place anymore, do you? Don't think you can talk like that just because this is the Sanchez family's house."

"Let me remind you—if it weren't for me, you wouldn't have even made it through the door tonight."

"Exactly…"

Vivien walked up, hand on her waist, looking down at me with open contempt.

"Sis, I've been overseas for years, but even I know—ever since that stupid mother of yours died, you don't have an ounce of standing left in the Sanchez family…"

Crack!!

Before she could finish, my palm had already landed hard across her face.

"You don't get to say a word about my mother!"

I raised my hand again,

but this time, before it could reach Vivien's cheek,

a scorching grip clamped around my wrist.

Then the hand wrenched me sideways, and I was flung to the ground.

Bill's eyes were black with fury.

He crouched down and locked his hand around my throat.

"Melinda, look at yourself! Do you even see what you look like right now?"

"You look like a trashy street bitch! You're not even embarrassed? Because you make me sick!"

I stared at the face I'd loved for over ten years, and it was like I'd never seen him before.

"Bill, she started—"

"Enough!"

He pinned both my hands down, then turned to Vivien, his expression soft again.

"Viv, however she hit you just now—come here and pay her back."

"Bill!"

Before the word had even died in my throat, Vivien was already standing over me.

She looked down at me with a thin, satisfied smile, raised her palm, and slapped me hard across the face.

The crack echoed through the vast hall.

Once. Twice.

Her hand didn't stop, and then her stiletto heel drove straight down into my palm.

Blood seeped from my hand and ran slowly across the floor to Bill's feet.

The pain forced a muffled groan out of me before I could hold it back.

Bill noticed the blood too.

Disgust flickered through his eyes. He shoved me away.

Then he turned and barked at the security guards behind him,

"Drag her out! The gala's about to start. I don't want her in here being an eyesore!"

Two guards in black suits stepped forward at once, gripping my arms, hauling me toward the exit.

In that single moment—the pain in my palm, the pain in my spine, the pain in my heart—all of it nearly swallowed me whole.

I threw everything I had into breaking free of the security guards, spun around, and pinned my eyes on Bill.

"Touch me again. I dare you."

He stared at me for two seconds, then let out a derisive scoff.

"Still running your mouth when you're already done?"

The words had barely left his mouth before a wave of shrill laughter erupted behind me—Vivien's cutting above the rest, loud and shameless.

I ignored the noise.

I raised my hand, slowly, and pointed at the flower-draped succession stage that had been prepared at the front of the hall.

I spoke word by word, each one dropping like frost.

"Bill. Do you know who's standing up there tonight to take over Sanchez Group?"