I always knew that Cecilia was special to Maddox. I was nothing more than her stand-in. After three years of holding onto Maddox, it was only right that I returned him to her.

Maddox had lost his mind when Cecilia left the country. He desperately went searching for women who resembled her.

I was the one who looked most like Cecilia, as well as the most obedient and the most understanding. After countless days and nights of unwavering devotion, Maddox reluctantly chose me to be his wife.

I overheard him talking to his friends on the eve of our wedding. He said, "If I can't marry Cecilia, then it doesn't matter who I marry."

At that moment, I was standing right outside the door, but I did not even have the right to be upset.

I loved Maddox so much that I lost myself. The idea of him not loving me was painful, but the thought of losing him was unbearable.

Yet, Cecilia called him on our wedding day, and Maddox walked out without hesitation, leaving me alone in the grand wedding hall, lost and helpless like a child.

I should have known that Cecilia was irreplaceable in Maddox's heart.

After that, she even sent me a text, taunting me.

"A fraud will always be a fraud. All I have to do is curl my finger, and Maddox comes running like a dog. How does it feel to have a wedding all to yourself?"

I bit my lip so hard it almost bled. It felt like my heart had been torn open. I confronted Cecilia, demanding to know why she did not marry Maddox herself if she had come back.

Her response made me realize what a pathetic joke I had become.

"Marry him? Are you kidding? Maddox is just one of my many lovesick suitors. I'm not about to give up an entire forest for one tree.

"Marriage is boring. Only an idiot like you would cling to a man who doesn't love you."

That night, Maddox returned and immediately demanded a divorce. I refused. Instead, I showed him Cecilia's messages.

I just wanted him to see the truth—the woman he had placed on a pedestal only saw him as a backup plan.

Maddox impatiently knocked my phone out of my hand, looking at me like I was some kind of monster.

"Rhea, I never thought you'd go so far as to get a fake number just to frame Cece in order to have me all to yourself. Your heart is absolutely filthy.

"Since you're so desperate to cling to the title of Mrs. Jagger, I'll let you have it. But don't expect even a shred of love from me. And don't think I'll ever touch you!"

It was at that moment that I finally understood—Cecilia did not have to do anything. Maddox would love her with everything he had.

"Maddox, I suddenly have a craving for your walnut pie," Cecilia's soft voice pulled me back to reality.

I watched as the two of them stood together in the hospital corridor, wrapped in their little world of affection. Passersby glanced their way, some with admiration, others visibly moved by the sight.

Maddox smiled gently as he tapped Cecilia's nose.

"Alright. As soon as you're allowed to eat, I'll make them for you."

A sharp, unbearable pain spread through my chest.

I used to stalk Cecilia's social media, digging through her old posts just to understand her better. Years ago, she had once shared a post about Maddox making her walnut pie from scratch.

I knew how complicated the process was. Maddox despised anything troublesome as his hospital responsibilities barely left him with time to breathe.

Once, I foolishly asked if he could make some for me too. He merely shot me a cold glare.

"Do I look like I have that kind of free time? Do you even know what I do for a living? How valuable my hands are?"

Yet now, he agreed to Cecilia's request without hesitation. His hands were precious—but he would crack the hardest walnut shells for Cecilia.

Not to mention, he would slice into my body in an operating room and take my kidney for her without a second thought.

The difference between love and indifference were never clearer than before.

Maddox pushed Cecilia's wheelchair toward the VIP ward. Halfway there, a heart-wrenching wail echoed through the hospital halls.

"My daughter! Why did you leave so soon? How am I supposed to live without you?"

I recognized that voice. It was my mother's. Pain twisted through me, as if her cries were tearing at my very soul.

So, even the dead could feel heartbreak.

Maddox hesitated for a split second, as if trying to make out the voice.

"Maddox? What's wrong?" Cecilia held his hand, her voice full of concern.

Maddox let out a cold laugh. "Nothing. There's always some drama queen in the hospital, addicted to putting on a show."

I watched as he wheeled Cecilia into her room, and a helpless smile formed on my lips.

I knew he recognized my mother's voice. He just believed that she, like me, was putting on an act.

A drama queen. That was what he compared her to. How ironic.

Yet Maddox didn't know that, at that moment, my lifeless body was being wheeled past Cecilia's room.

My mother, who was overcome with grief, immediately collapsed at the doors of the operating room, unable to stand any longer.

Cecilia got to stay in a luxurious VIP hospital room, while I had been crammed into a shared five-person ward. The air was thick with an unbearable stench, and the constant noise sent my heart into palpitations.

At the time, I called Maddox, hoping he would move me to a quieter room. It did not have to be VIP—just somewhere more peaceful.

However, he only sneered over the phone.

"Addicted to putting on a show, aren't you? Always competing with Cece for attention. If you want to keep playing the sympathy card, go ahead.

"Just so you know, I put you there on purpose. There's plenty of infectious diseases in that ward—if you're not afraid to die, then just stay there."

A chill ran down my spine as he spoke of infectious diseases and death. The words felt foreign yet terrifying.

However, I was too weak to move, my body tangled in tubes and wires. Even the nurses and doctors had been ordered by Maddox to treat me with deliberate neglect.

They deliberately missed my veins, stabbing me over a dozen times before successfully inserting an IV, leaving me drenched in cold sweat from the pain.

Even when the IV fluid started flowing backward into the tube, no one bothered to check on me. The food they brought was nothing but cold leftovers.

When I complained, a nurse rolled her eyes.

"You've probably been a rich wife for too long, huh? Do you think you're better than the rest of the patients?

"Everyone here is sick—what makes you so special? This is what we've got. If you don't like it, then go home."

I did not dare say a word. I wanted to live—more than anyone.

Meanwhile, Cecilia lived comfortably, surrounded by the best caregivers. Yet Maddox had never once hired even the cheapest help for me.

"Maddox, I want chicken noodle soup too, along with walnut pie," Cecilia cooed, her voice laced with sweetness.

Hearing that, a terrible premonition crept over me.

I often made chicken noodle soup for Maddox. Cecilia must have had some before, which was why she asked for it now.

Sure enough, Maddox first looked at Cecilia with gentle adoration.

"I'll have Rhea make it for you."

Then, his expression darkened with cold indifference as he pulled out his phone and called me.

It finally connected after the second try, but before the person on the other end could say anything, Maddox got straight to the point.

"Rhea, I don't care what you're doing, drop everything and go make chicken noodle soup for Cece. Deliver it before tonight.

"And apologize to her while you're at it. If you don't, don't blame me for divorcing you!"

There was silence on the other end. But Maddox did not wait for a response—he simply hung up.

"I don't care what you're doing," he said.

Even if he did not believe I was dead, even if he refused to accept that I had undergone heart surgery, he had barged into the operating room and taken my kidney with his own hands.

I had been cut open twice—I could not possibly recover faster than Cecilia.

Then again, of course, what was I compared to her?

I had always given Maddox everything he wanted, no matter what he asked. But this time, he would never get an answer from me.

As for divorce? Let him do as he pleased.

Maddox had used divorce as a threat so many times. He knew better than anyone that I would never agree. Whenever I did not comply with his wishes, he repeated the same tactics.

Even when he wanted my kidney and I refused, he used the same threats. It was not that I wanted to just say no, I simply was not physically fit for the surgery.

Maddox just wanted me dead.

Even so, he never believed me.

The moment they sedated me and cut into my chest, Maddox stormed into the operating room with his people.

They did not even wear surgical gowns or masks.

They did not care if I got infected.

Maddox, who was always busy with work, did something unheard of—he spent the entire afternoon with Cecilia. He even ignored every call that came in.

Only Cecilia could receive this kind of treatment. When we went out for our anniversary, he could not even sit long enough to warm the seat before taking a call and leaving without a word.

I supposed the favored always acted with impunity.

Maddox kept finding ways to make Cecilia laugh. The man who was always silent and indifferent around me suddenly became a chatterbox.

As the sky darkened, his patience started wearing thin. He kept glancing at his watch over and over.

By the time night had completely fallen and I still had not appeared, Maddox lost his temper.

He called me repeatedly, but no one answered. Frustrated, he sent a furious voice message.

"Rhea, you've truly gotten bold, haven't you? How hard is it to do something so simple? Cece is in the hospital because of you—you cannot just walk away from this!

"Don't forget whose money you're spending! Who has been keeping you fed!

"You want to keep acting out? This time, even if you crawl to me like a dog and beg, I will divorce you!"

A simple thing, he said. So, in Maddox's eyes, making chicken noodle soup was nothing more than a trivial thing.

Yet every time, I would wake before dawn to carefully select the best ingredients. I would spend hours simmering the broth to ensure the perfect taste.

Maddox's chest heaved violently, and his eyes were bloodshot with fury.

Cecilia first flashed a victorious smile, then quickly lowered her head, putting on a pitiful expression.

"Maddox, don't be mad at Rhea. She is probably still blaming me. I do not even want the soup anymore, okay?

"Maybe Rhea is right, I am just a shameless homewrecker.

"But Maddox, I really can't let you go. Even if Rhea kills me, I will still feel the same way."

Maddox's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Rhea actually called you shameless? I knew it—she just wants you dead! I will not let her get away with this!"

With that, he stormed out in anger.

Cecilia called after him, pretending to sound distressed.

"No, Maddox, I don't want you two fighting over me. I already promised Rhea that once I recover, I will leave the country again. I won't cling to you anymore. Otherwise, she'll never let my family go."

Maddox let out a cold scoff.

"If it weren't for me, Rhea wouldn't have that kind of power."

The moment Maddox stepped out, he ran straight into my mother. She was holding a mop, wiping the hospital floor.

I was stunned. So was Maddox.

"What are you doing here?"

There was not even a trace of respect in his voice.

My mother's eyes flickered with anger as she replied, "I'm working here as a janitor."

Maddox let out a cold laugh.

"Doesn't Rhea give you enough money every month? You're still short on cash? What, are you trying to guilt-trip me now?

"You people are never satisfied. How much more do you plan to take from me?"

My breath caught, and my mother's face darkened. I had never once taken Maddox's money to support my mother.

Even though I did not have a stable job, I knew how hard life was for her. She was not in good health as she had a heart condition—just like me.

So, I worked freelance jobs, illustrating for various clients and teaching children how to draw. It brought in a modest income.

Maddox gave me a monthly allowance of 800 dollars, but it was never enough. I had to supplement it with my own earnings, some for my mother, some for household expenses. I never told Maddox about it.

My mother gripped the mop tightly as she said, "I won't allow you to slander my daughter like this!"

Maddox remained indifferent.

"I suppose the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. With a mother as twisted as you, of course your daughter turned out disgusting.

"Let me tell you—I don't want to see you in this hospital ever again. Now, get lost!"

My mother trembled with rage, but just as she was about to speak, she suddenly collapsed.

Maddox proceeded to kick her twice.

"Old woman, you're just like your daughter—always putting on a show. Haven't you two had enough?

"What is this now? Trying to scam me? Or are you copying your daughter and playing dead?"

Anyone with the slightest medical knowledge could see that my mother was not faking it. Her body was convulsing, and her breathing was rapid. There were obvious signs of distress.

A passing doctor noticed and immediately called for medical staff. They rushed over, lifted my mother onto a stretcher, and wheeled her into the operating room.

I was frantic, like a cat on hot bricks. But as a spirit, there was nothing I could do. My temples throbbed violently.

I knew very well that a heart attack could truly be fatal.

Maddox, however, remained completely indifferent.

"Let's see how long you two can keep this act up."

Just as he was about to turn and come after me, he was stopped by the doctor who had just run into the operating room.

"Dr. Jagger, please sign the consent form for surgery. The patient has a hereditary heart condition, and she has no other relatives left."

Maddox froze mid-step, his expression darkening.

"What are you talking about? I have nothing to do with those Simpson folks! If you need a signature, go find Rhea. I'm not dealing with their mess!"

The doctor frowned.

"You don't know? Ms. Simpson passed away on the operating table a while ago. She developed an infection during surgery, along with heart complications. I assumed you were already aware."

Maddox staggered back two steps, his face draining of color.

"No… That is impossible. She was just pretending, wasn't she? Losing a kidney would not kill her!"

The doctor let out a weary sigh.

"Ms. Simpson also had a hereditary heart condition. Do you… really not know?"