I didn’t care about dignity or shame; all I wanted was to survive.

But when I arrived at the scene, I saw Lucas taking Sophia to the countryside for charity work.

The setup was grand; reporters filled the place.

How ironic.

He had money for investments and charity, but none to rescue his fiancée.

He had time for receptions and interviews, but none to save his fiancée.

He basked in praise and applause, while I endured humiliation and torture in the hands of a monster.

I stood there, naked and stunned, like a misplaced clown.

I let everyone take in my dripping wounds.

In that moment, every spotlight fell on me.

Lucas’s face immediately darkened.

He didn’t ask if I was in pain, didn’t care what I had gone through.

He only said one sentence:

“Wendy Carter, what are you doing?”

Making a scene? Making a scene?

So all the pain and torture I suffered,

in his eyes, it was just a pointless tantrum to seek attention.

So my blood and wounds

were less important to him than dust on the ground.

I rushed to him, crying, asking why he hadn’t saved me.

“Why, why?”

“I’m your fiancée, your childhood sweetheart, your lifelong partner…”

“I’m pregnant…”

Before I could finish, Lucas cut me off without mercy.

He pushed my hand away in front of everyone.

He looked at me with a heavy, complicated expression.

“Sophie, why can’t you learn your lesson!”

“I had Sophia start negotiations as soon as we got the news. Once this phase passes, the money will be transferred.”

“You would’ve been fine anyway, so why put on this act?”

How could anyone risk their dignity and life just to act?!

I stood there frozen, staring in disbelief at the man I had loved since I was young.

But even after my tears ran dry, Lucas’s expression didn’t change.

He only vaguely blamed me for disrupting his charity event.

Eventually, I was wrapped in a blanket and taken away.

Sophia pretended to care.

She deliberately loosened her scarf, revealing hickeys on her neck.

“Aren’t you curious why your parents didn’t save you?”

“Isn’t it strange that Lucas suddenly changed so much?”

“Because… you’re not the Carter family’s daughter at all!”

She told me her parents were nearly driven insane with worry the day they received the ransom letter.

They said they would spare no cost, even bankruptcy, to save me.

But Lucas stopped them.

He showed them a paternity test.

He said I was just a fake—switched at birth by the nanny.

The real Miss Carter had already died from the nanny’s abuse.

Those words made her parents stop trying to rescue her.

The Carter family’s cherished daughter—

turned out to be a fraud.

Years of raising me made it impossible for them to let me go entirely.

But their hatred for their daughter’s death left them unsure how to face me.

After a long hesitation…

They left me an 800‑million‑dollar dowry and entrusted me to Lucas.

They were actually kinder than I deserved.

They just never expected Lucas to be so ruthless.

He took that 800 million—her dowry, the money meant to save my life.

He invested it in his new project.

With that, he became the richest man in Newport’s social circle, with a limitless future.

He let me be tortured until I was barely hanging on.

That day, I cried every tear I’d ever had.

I looked up, and Lucas was already standing before me.

He stood against the light.

I couldn’t see his expression, but I saw the necklace around his neck—matching Sophia’s.

He lowered his head and said,

“Sophie, I won’t abandon you because of your wretchedness.”

“But remember this—you have no family to return to.”

“If you want to marry me, if you want to become Mrs. Lawrence, you have to learn to be obedient.”

Everyone said this was Lucas softening, showing goodwill.

He knew I was spoiled, knew my unbearable past.

Yet he was still willing to tolerate, accept, and forgive me.

That alone proved he loved me.

But that so‑called love

sounded like a threat.

If it were the old Wendy, she would’ve raged, fought back, made a scene to the bitter end.

But after being crushed again and again by fate,

I was afraid.

I realized my life was completely in Lucas’s hands.

My future, my happiness, and sorrow,

all decided by him.

So I did as he wanted.

I learned my lesson.

At meals, I pretended not to see the elegant Sophia sitting across from me.

I silently swallowed whatever they put on my plate.

Even when my stomach was already sick.

Even when my heart was lodged in my throat.

I didn’t dare show even a trace of irritation.

Because I was terrified—terrified of that abyss of uncertainty.

Compared to the leaves and filth I ate while held captive,

forcing down the food in front of me was nothing.

I tried my best to play the obedient, docile wife, burying all my pride and temper.

But there was one thing I couldn’t do.

I couldn’t accept intimacy with Lucas.

Every touch, every breath against my skin,

dragged me back to those hellish fifteen days.

Back to those kidnappers crawling over me.

I was terrified.

Terrified of remembering.

Terrified of having those barely healed wounds exposed again.

Whenever Lucas came near and touched me,

I would shake uncontrollably.

Then scream and push him away.

Lucas didn’t hit me as the kidnappers did.

He only looked at me coldly and said,

“Sophie, haven’t you had enough?”

I no longer had the right to be willful.

But I didn’t dare speak, didn’t dare meet his eyes.

I could only curl up in the corner, trembling.

My arms wrapped tightly around myself, clinging to the last shred of dignity I had left.

But the more I did this, the angrier Lucas became.

On my birthday night, he had been drinking.

He yanked me close, gripping my head and demanding, “Speak! Why won’t you speak?”

“Weren’t you the chatterbox, the one who clung to me every day? Now what are you pretending to be—some pure, untouchable woman?”

“For that little incident last time, how long are you going to keep sulking?”

“Sophie, why can’t you learn your lesson…”

That night, something seemed to set him off. He insisted on being with me.

He tore open my clothes roughly.

He grabbed my neck and kissed his way downward.

And in that moment, the fear I had worked so hard to forget surged back.

The mattress beneath me felt like an iron cage.

The man before me felt like a kidnapper.

The wounds on my skin seemed to tear open inch by inch, dragging me back to that endless hell.

I lost all reason, holding on only to the instinct to survive.

In a panic, I grabbed a vase from the corner and smashed it.

Sophia rushed over at the noise and saw Lucas covered in blood.

She frantically called the police and an ambulance.

As she cried while moving, “Help! Someone help me! Wendy has gone mad, she’s trying to kill someone!”

And just like that, the police took me away.

Sophia produced the photo of me walking naked into the charity event.

She claimed I had long-standing mental issues and sent me to a mental hospital.

While the admission was processed, Lucas handled everything for me.

From cash and bank accounts to meals and daily needs.

Everything was arranged perfectly.

As he left, he glanced at me and said, “Sophie, remember to be a good girl here.”

“I’ll come pick you up when you’re better.”

But everyone knew I wouldn’t be there.

By then, Lucas and Sophia’s affair had already become public gossip.

He needed an excuse to discard me, an unnecessary burden.

So I could only be labeled a madwoman.

… Fallen leaves drifted down.

The school bell rang, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I looked up and saw a familiar figure.

Turning, I saw Lucas.

He seemed surprised, but also pleased.

He hurried through the crowd toward me.

“Sophie, what are you doing here?”

“Why didn’t you contact me after you were discharged? Do you know—” Before I could finish, a tiny, adorable little girl clung to my leg.

“Mommy, why are you so late!”

“The kids at kindergarten had a bet today about whose mom would come first, and I lost again!”

I pinched my daughter’s cheek, trying to think of how to comfort her.

But Lucas’s eyes reddened first.

He crouched down, staring at Ethan with disbelief.

“This is your child?”