In the seventh year of my marriage, my mom went into surgery, and a doctor's careless mistake left her in a coma.

They held me at the hospital while I kept hammering Jericho Fowler’s number like a madwoman. He didn’t pick up at all.

It wasn’t until Verona MacGill—my mom’s surgeon—sneered at me that the truth landed like a punch in the gut.

“My god, Venice, have you still not figured out your place? When you were nearly assaulted, when you were in that car crash, every time you called Jericho, he didn’t pick up. Do you know why?”

She didn’t even bother hiding that sarcasm and arrogance on her face.

“Because every time something happened to you, he was… inside me. In fact, even today, I made sure he satisfied me before I came here. Your mom in a coma? Hah, that’s what you get for being shameless! If you don’t leave, who knows what will happen to the rest of your family…”

I thought I had picked the right man, but I ended up with a husband who was nowhere to be found when I needed him most.

In the first year of marriage, I was assaulted and almost raped. I fought for my dear life and called him.

Ninety-nine emergency calls, and he never answered!

By the third year, my car was smashed by an oncoming truck that nearly killed me.

The hospital blew up his goddamn phone, and still, he did not answer!

In the end, I mustered whatever strength I had left and signed the consent form myself.

Finally, it hit me—he was the very reason all of that happened to me.

He and that doctor he was cheating with had been playing with me all this time! As if that wasn’t enough, they had even laid a hand on my family!

Screw them! They wouldn’t get away with it!

When my call went to voicemail once more, something in me snapped cold.

[Ten days from now, at the shareholders’ meeting, I’m going to sell all my shares to Jericho’s rival. I’ll make sure that piece of shit loses every damn thing in his name!]

1

Venice’s POV

After I sent the message, I collapsed to the floor in utter exhaustion.

Verona had already finished her business and left. Even though I was terrified for my mom, I had no way of knowing how she was now.

I expected to be stuck there for a long time, but half an hour later, Jericho appeared, dust on his shoulders and an impossible calm on his face.

When he saw my disheveled state, he barely frowned. Something about that made my heart lurch in my chest.

Before I could steady myself, he crouched down in front of me, pulled an agreement from his coat, grabbed my hand, and tried to press it into my palm.

“Jericho! What are you doing?!” I panicked, yanking my hand away with all my strength.

In his other hand was a release—a letter of understanding.

Half-squatting in a suit and polished shoes, he looked like a businessman closing a deal, not a husband faced with his wife’s crisis.

“Sign it, Venice. Come on, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

His voice sounded steady; the lines on his brow softened as if nothing catastrophic had happened.

“Verona didn’t do it on purpose. Your mom ending up in a coma? That was her fate. It’s nobody’s fault.”

Cold swept through me; my blood felt like it was running backward.

“Jericho, do you remember you’re my husband?” I asked.

He reached out, pinched my chin between two fingers, his face unreadable.

“I know,” he said in a low voice, “But Verona saved my life once. I have to protect her. Besides, she didn’t mean for this to happen. Don’t be childish, Venice. Just sign this letter. It’s better for both of us.”

He set the paper down in front of me again.

Seeing that same expression he’d worn since the day we married, I snapped. I grabbed and tore the damn paper to pieces and screamed, collapsing into grief.

“Jericho! All these years, every time I needed you, you were never there! Now, you’re threatening me for Verona’s sake? My mom nearly fucking died because of that doctor!”

But my shouting didn’t stir him. His face didn’t even flinch; he was nothing but a ghost—cold and indifferent to my pain.

I swallowed the sob that wanted to break out and forced each word out like a vow.

“Listen—I’m not letting her get away with this. I’ll bring every piece of evidence I have and drag her into court. I’ll make Verona rot in prison for the rest of her life.”

Finally, I would leave this asshole forever!

2

Venice’s POV

When it came to Verona, Jericho’s expression finally shifted.

He gripped my wrist with brutal force, his gaze cold enough to freeze.

“You’re right. I’m your husband,” he said flatly. “So when my wife loses her mind because of pregnancy, I should, of course, send her to a hospital. And as for what a lunatic says—well, no one would believe it anyway. Venice, don’t make this harder than it has to be. Sign the letter. Otherwise… I can’t promise what might happen to your mom. After all, she’s still unconscious right now.”

Obviously, he was threatening me, using my mom’s life as a weapon.

“Jericho…” My voice shook uncontrollably. “That’s my mom!”

His lips curled into a faint smile, but his eyes were as cold as steel. “Verona means just as much to me,” he said. “I told you—I’ll protect her no matter what.”

I stared at him, disbelief and bitterness choking me.

Seven years—that’s how long we’ve been married. Even if it began as a business arrangement, I truly believed I could warm that frozen heart of his.

When the Fowlers’ company was falling apart, I was the only one who cared enough to marry him and save what was left.

Even after the wedding, when he treated me no differently from anyone else, I still convinced myself that one day, I’d become someone special to him.

It never once crossed my mind that the space I longed to fill in his heart had long belonged to Verona.

When I stayed silent too long, Jericho lost his patience.

He clapped his hands once, and suddenly, the hospital room window burst open.

Following his gaze, I froze—my unconscious mom was hanging outside the window, suspended in midair! This was the seventh fucking floor!

“Jericho!” My voice rose to a shrill pitch. “Let my mom go!”

He tilted his head slightly, leaning closer.

“Venice,” he said softly, “your mom’s life is in your hands right now.”

A violent shiver ran through me. My knees went weak. I could barely stay standing.

Just then, Verona appeared at the doorway.

She walked in with a delicate smile, brazenly linking her arm through Jericho’s.

“It’s all my fault, Jericho,” she murmured. “Please don’t be so harsh with Venice. I’ll take responsibility. I can go to prison if that’s what she wants. Venice, I’m sorry, really.”

Her tone was pitiful, her eyes shimmering with tears. But as she stepped closer, her hand shot forward—pressing hard against my belly.

My eyes widened. Instinctively, I shoved her away.

“Ahhh!” Verona screamed, collapsing hard to the floor like she’d been hit with a strong force.

Jericho’s face changed drastically. He hurriedly went to lift her carefully.

“Please don’t blame Venice, Jericho. It was all my fault…” she whimpered.

That liar even covered a wound on her hand. It was no bigger than a fingernail! The next second, just like the manipulative woman that she was, she started sobbing.

When Jericho saw that so-called injury, his face darkened like a storm cloud.

The way he looked at me was cold.

“Venice,” he said coldly, “it seems I’ve been far too kind to you. You really need to be taught a lesson now.”

With that, he waved his hand, signaling his men.

In my breaking line of sight, the rope that bound my mom dropped rapidly… until a loud, sickening thud echoed through the air.

My vision blurred with tears as I broke free from the guards’ grasp and rushed to the window.

Down below, at the hospital entrance, a pool of red spread across the concrete.

And my mom—the woman who loved me most in this world—lay there, motionless, her fate unknown.

3

Venice’s POV

My strength gave out completely, and soon, I collapsed to the floor.

“Jericho!”

I screamed his name and rushed forward. With every fiber of my being, I slapped him across the face.

Never—not even in my worst nightmares—had I imagined he could go this far for Verona.

Swallowing my tears, I turned to leave. But before I could take a step, he grabbed me roughly by the arm.

His expression was devoid of warmth, his voice sharp and cold as steel.

“Hey. You haven’t signed the letter of understanding. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Fine,” I replied, my voice trembling. There was no strength left in me to even expect anything from him.

Five minutes later, a new copy of the letter was brought in.

Outside the hospital, my mom still lay on the concrete, and the medical staff trying to save her were being held back by Jericho’s bodyguards.

I didn’t even look at him anymore. My gaze was hollow as I picked up the pen and signed my name—stroke by stroke—on that cursed paper.

“Now,” I said quietly, “can I go?”

When I looked at him, my eyes were as cold as his.

His brows knitted together. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something.

But Verona tugged at his sleeve, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Jericho,” she whimpered, “my wound… It really hurts.”

Just those few words, and his entire demeanor changed. His face tightened with concern as he swept her up into his arms and hurried out of the room.

By the time I made it downstairs, my mom was barely clinging to life.

With shaking hands, I pushed her gurney toward the operating room.

The red light above the door flicked on, and my heart seemed to hang suspended in the air with it.

I thought the nightmare might finally end there. But only three minutes later, a group of bodyguards stormed into the operating room and dragged the attending surgeon out.

I froze, my eyes wide in disbelief. “What the hell are you doing?!”

They looked at me coldly.

“Mr. Fowler has ordered all doctors to check on Ms. MacGill’s injury first. Once she’s confirmed stable, we’ll bring the attending physician back.”

Her wound was no fucking bigger than a fingernail, yet they were stealing my mom’s only chance to survive!

The thought shattered what little control I had left. My eyes burned as I lunged forward to stop them from taking the doctor away.

“Let him go! My mom’s still in surgery! Tell Jericho—if anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive any of you!”

But my words did nothing at all. One of the guards just gave a mocking smile.

“Ma'am, those were Mr. Fowler’s direct orders. If you have a problem, take it up with him.”

Without wasting any more time, they shoved me aside and dragged the doctor away.

The force of it slammed my head against the sharp edge of a metal chair. Warm blood streamed down my face in an instant, but I barely felt it.

At that moment, the red light above the operating room flickered and went out. Then, the machines inside began to beep in a chaotic rhythm.

Summoning every last ounce of strength, I pushed myself off the floor and stumbled after the guards.

I had to bring the doctor back.

If I didn’t… I would lose the only family I had left…