My small two-bedroom apartment had been turned upside down by his men.

Yet he still found nothing.

"Didn't you say Lianna was unclogging a sewer? Where is she?"

His face flushed red as he stormed up to me, voice booming with rage.

Seeing him like this, a wicked satisfaction curled in my chest.

Revenge tasted sweet.

I raised my brows, speaking slowly, almost lazily, "I only said she was unclogging a sewer. I never said it was in my house. Maybe she's unclogging one at your driver's place. Why don't you check there?"

Hubert's eyes went cold. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked hard.

"Drop the sarcasm," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll ask you one last time—where are you hiding Lianna?"

Lianna's whereabouts had always been a secret. I was nothing but her scapegoat—how could I possibly know?

Through gritted teeth, I answered, "She's a grown woman with hands and feet of her own. Why would I know where she goes? I'm not her mother!"

Not getting the answer he wanted, Hubert's eyes turned vicious. He released my hair only to strike me hard across the face, the blow leaving my head ringing. Rage flared through me—yet beneath it, an even greater anticipation stirred.

'You're angry already? You've seen nothing yet, Hubert. The worst is still waiting for you,' I muttered internally.

He loomed over me, striking my face again and again with his palm, as he sneered, "You think keeping your mouth shut means I can't deal with you?"

He reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and powered it on.

Holding it up to my face, he unlocked it with the facial scan, then scrolled straight into my contacts.

When he spotted my emergency contact, a cruel smile spread across his lips.

He dialed.

"Hello? What's wrong?"

On the other end, my husband, Blake, answered with his usual gentle voice.

I opened my mouth, desperate to speak—but one of the bodyguards clamped a hand over it, suffocating my words.

"You're Celestine's husband, right?"

Hubert's voice was cold, dripping with disdain.

"And who the hell are you?"

Hearing an unfamiliar man, Blake's tone sharpened, his calm was instantly replaced by unease.

Hubert met my eyes, mocking me as he replied, "I'm Celestine's ex. But don't worry—I'm married now. I've got no interest in her anymore."

There was a short silence, then Blake demanded, "Then why are you calling me with her phone?"

"No real reason. I just thought you should hear the truth about your lovely wife."

Hubert began his assault, every word a dagger meant to bury me alive.

"Do you know how she got those burn scars? She tried to set herself on fire when I dumped her and wanted to die with me. If my wife hadn't tried to save her, she'd already be ashes."

"When that failed, she threw herself at man after man, desperate for company."

"She's lived off my wife for years—sold her wedding jewelry to buy gifts for boytoys, gambled away her money, maxed out my credit cards, made my wife pay her debts."

"She even got caught playing mistress and was beaten by the man's real wife."

"Oh, and she was at the hospital recently, getting treatment for a dirty disease. If I were you, I'd go get tested."

"Tell me, doesn't it shame you to be married to a filthy woman like her? Don't you feel pathetic being cuckolded? If I were you, I'd be dead already."

Each word was venom, each sentence a blade, hacking at my dignity until nothing remained.

On the other end of the line, Blake fell into a long, chilling silence.

My heart twisted.

Since the day we married, our relationship had always been good...

Blake was always upright and kind, gentle and attentive to me.

He never once despised the burn scars on my body. Instead, he told me I was an angel who had survived the flames, and that for the rest of my life, he would shield me from the wind and rain.

With him, no matter how badly we argued, he never gave me the cold shoulder or lost his temper. He would always coax me patiently, again and again.

But this time... after hearing Hubert's lies, he said nothing. Not a word.

When Hubert hung up the call, triumph lit his face.

"Well? Still not going to tell me where Lianna is?"

The guard finally released his hand from my mouth.

I glared at Hubert, fury burning in my chest. "You've broken into my home, restrained me, assaulted me, and spouted lies. Every one of those things is against the law."

I wanted nothing more than to tear this fool apart.

At my defiance, his rage deepened. "Against the law?" He sneered. "Then let me show you what real breaking the law looks like!"

He barked an order at his men. "Smash her place to the ground!"

Obeying instantly, the bodyguards began to wreck everything in sight.

In minutes, my once neat little apartment became a wasteland of broken furniture and shattered glass. Nothing was left intact.

Grinding my teeth, I spat, "Hubert, with such blatant lawlessness, aren't you afraid of the law catching up with you?"

He laughed coldly, full of scorn. "The law? The law punishes leeches like you. You've bled Lianna dry for years—don't you know how much you've stolen from her? Everything in this place was bought with her money. I'm smashing my own things. What crime is that?"

His words rang with righteous fury, as if he weren't a criminal but a judge passing sentence on the guilty.

I checked the time. Less than thirty minutes until Lianna's miscarriage.

The real show was about to begin.

Forcing down my rage, I smiled faintly and drawled, "Why don't you wait a little longer? Your dear wife will be contacting you very soon."

My calmness only made him more frantic. His eyes burned with rage.

"Still stubborn? Fine! Today, I'll utterly destroy your reputation!"

"Take her out!"

The guards dragged me to the gate of the apartment complex.

The commotion quickly drew a crowd. Dozens of eyes turned on me, whispers swelling into a storm.

Hubert seized the opportunity, loudly broadcasting my so-called sins for everyone to hear.

And the crowd believed every word.

"This is disgusting. She's already at this age and still leeching off her pregnant best friend? That's basically murder!"

"Exactly! Her friend is just too kind. If it were me, I'd have kicked her out ages ago."

"Classic fake friend—pretending to care while scheming behind the scenes. My wife had one just like her, and drove her into debt and depression. Even now, she's still on antidepressants!"

"She's a vampire, that's what she is. First her family, then her friends, then her husband. Whoever meets her is cursed!"

"And she's filthy too—already married but still chasing after male models, playing mistress. Sharing a community with a tramp like her was just bad luck!"

Spittle and curses rained down, painting me as some vile, irredeemable villain.

Hubert looked down on me, his smirk full of provocation.

"Well? Still want to keep that hard mouth of yours?"

He thought he had me cornered. That I would crumble under the weight of shame.

Instead, I laughed coldly, lifting my chin in defiance.

"A dignified tycoon—and this is the best you can do?"

"What's a few neighbors cursing me out? Even if they spit until their throats dry, all I need to do is move somewhere else, and it's over."

"If you really want me ruined, Hubert, you should've called some internet influencers. Let them livestream it all. That way, maybe—just maybe—you could make me infamous across the entire country."

Hubert's expression darkened. He gritted his teeth and said, "Fine. You want it big? I'll make it big for you!"

Without another word, he pulled out his phone and made another call.

My heart surged with anticipation.

Yes. Stir it up. The bigger, the better. Let the whole world witness the scandal of your perfect, wealthy family.

With his influence, it didn't take long before a swarm of online streamers rushed to the scene, all raising their phones, livestreaming with eager faces.

"Everyone, we've just caught a huge piece of gossip! See this woman right here? Don't be fooled by her innocent looks—she's rotten to the core!"

"She once tried to drag her best friend into a suicide pact after a breakup. Her friend risked her life to save her, and she lived. But instead of gratitude, she became jealous of her friend's better life, and has done nothing but cause trouble since!"

"For years, she's been leeching off her friend. Whenever she had no money, she runs to her. Pregnant and heavily burdened, her friend still runs errands for her, cleans up her messes, even drags herself out in the middle of the night to fetch her when she's drunk out of her mind."

"And what does she do in return? Nothing! She spends money like water, treats her friend's generosity as her due, even pawns her friend's wedding jewelry to buy gifts for boytoys! She maxed out her friend's credit cards to pay off her massive gambling debts!"

"Her private life is a disaster. Already married, yet constantly fooling around, seducing men, knowingly becoming the mistress. She's been chased down and beaten by wives multiple times!"

"I heard that she even contracted a filthy disease. She went to the hospital in secret, dragging her friend along to cover for her—who knows how many men she infected before that?"

"Everyone, remember her face! If you've got guts, slap her if you ever see her. If not, just stay far away—don't risk catching something from her!"

The streamers piled lie upon lie, weaving tales out of thin air, exaggerating every word.

Soon, every livestream platform was boiling with curses.

"Holy shit, her friend and husband must be saints to put up with trash like her!"

"This isn't even a woman—it's a walking tumor!"

"Right? Keeping her alive is like letting a plague spread!"

The scandal fermented at lightning speed. Within minutes, my photo was plastered across the internet, shooting straight onto the trending hot search.

"Leeching Woman."

"Toxic Friend."

"Slut."

Ugly labels piled onto my name, one after another, until they became my new identity.

As the streamers fanned the flames, the onlookers' emotions exploded.

One by one, they began hurling eggs and rotten vegetables at me.

Some who had been eating nearby even smashed their beer bottles at my feet.

Like a lamb before slaughter, I stood in the middle of the filth, drowning in insults, reeking of garbage.

And then—through the chaos, a familiar figure emerged from the crowd.

It was Blake.

At the sight of his face, my lonely heart finally found a refuge.

To me, Blake had always been my strongest support.

No matter what grievances I faced outside, he would patiently comfort me, help me, shield me.

He was not only my husband—he was my safe harbor, my home.

At that moment, all my defenses fell.

I wanted nothing more than to run into his arms, to collapse into the warmth I trusted most.

So I did.

But the moment I reached him, he shoved me away.

The force caught me off guard. I stumbled back, losing balance, and crashed heavily to the ground.