At those words, Chris's brows knit together. A trace of concern entered his voice.
"Ms. Milstein, the sun is so harsh today. What if the heat gets to you? I'll have Daisy deliver it to you instead."
"It's fine. I'll be passing by the company anyway."
"Understood, Ms. Milstein. Then I'll have Daisy bring it down to the underground parking garage."
"Alright."
Despair swallowed me whole.
Around me, the others continued praising Chris, calling him attentive, saying he never let Ms. Milstein suffer even the slightest inconvenience.
Wearing the air of a man who considered himself her husband, Chris said smugly, "Of course. Real love means caring for her in every way."
Then his gaze snapped to me, and his voice turned vicious. "But anyone who dares covet my woman will be completely crushed."
My face was swollen, my body stripped bare, large patches of skin exposed to the cold air.
Staring at the medicine in Chris's hand, I understood—I wasn't getting out of this today.
But as long as the medicine was still intact, there was still hope.
I glared at everyone present, burning their faces into my memory. I swore I would remember every single one of them and take my revenge.
Especially Chris—I would make him pay in blood.
"What's with that glare?" He struck me again. "You really won't give up until you die, huh?"
His expression darkened. "Those chest muscles—are they fake? How about I let some air out for you?"
Holding the utility knife, he walked toward me step by step, fierce and merciless, like a demon.
"Ah—!"
My scream tore through the room as the blade plunged deep into my chest. Blood poured out without end.
The pain nearly knocked me unconscious. I no longer had the strength to move.
Then, from outside the door came Ella's voice.
"Chris, where are my documents?"
Chris's hand trembled. The knife clattered to the floor. He shot a look at the other secretaries, then straightened his clothes and stepped out, pushing the door open behind him.
"Ms. Milstein, you're here so soon."
"The documents."
"Here—they're ready. I'll get them for you right away."
A brief silence followed.
I tried to call for help, forcing my mouth open with every ounce of strength I had left—but not a sound came out.
The secretaries around me watched like hawks.
The door was closed. Ella couldn't see me at all.
No—I had to do something. Anything to draw her attention.
The meeting room held nothing but a table and chairs.
While the others weren't looking, I forced my body to move, inch by inch, until I grabbed hold of a chair. With everything I had left, I tried to knock it over.
But I was too weak. Even with all my strength, the most I managed was to make the chair bump against the table.
One of the secretaries glanced toward the door, then let out a breath of relief.
The next second, the knife was yanked out of my chest.
One hand clamped over my mouth. The other drove the blade down—fast, precise, and brutal—into the back of my hand, pinning it to the floor.
My scream was smothered completely, swallowed by his palm.
In that moment, hatred consumed me.
I hated that Ella was just beyond that door, yet utterly unaware of my suffering.
I hated the secretary she had brought into her company, who was now torturing me.
"Ms. Milstein, here are the documents you requested."
"Mm."
"Do you need me to accompany you?"
"No."
Her steady footsteps gradually faded into the distance.
Then suddenly, her voice came again, closer this time.
"Oh, right. The man you mentioned earlier—where is he?"
Chris's voice carried a hint of panic, though he masked it well. "Ms. Milstein, why are you asking about him all of a sudden? I've already taken care of it."
"It's nothing. I just feel a little uneasy today, so I asked. If he's gone, then forget it."
She turned to leave again.
Inside, I screamed desperately, but all that awaited me was deeper despair.
Then Ella's steps halted.
She pointed at the lunchbox I had brought, lying on the floor.
"Where did this lunchbox come from?"
Her low voice rang out, laced with a faint, uncertain tremor.
