After Damien left, Brigitta dragged herself out of bed.

She hadn’t slept well; her body felt heavy with exhaustion. Their supposed to be wedding was in two days and she needed to pack—because this time, she would be gone before it happened. She refused to make the same mistakes again.

Everything in the house reminded her of Damien, so she cleaned everything out, had it taken away and packed only a backpack for herself.

Once everything was done, she checked the time on her phone, grabbed her car keys and headed to the embassy to renew her visa.

While waiting in line, Brigitta pulled a baseball cap low over her brow to hide her wound.

Never again would she degrade herself for love.

She had every reason to hold her head high. The thought of Damien telling her to “live with her tail between her legs” last night only deepened her disgust at the way she had once loved him desperately.

To distract herself, she scrolled through her phone. The news and trending topics were flooded with headlines about her expedition team:

[BREAKING: The world’s top exploration team returns to unravel the mystery of The Thalasson Project.]

[Legendary Chief Expedition ‘X’ has come out of retirement. The next expedition will change the course of history.]

Even the foreigners in line beside her were talking about it.

“That insane expedition team closed public applications last night. My friend offered billions and still couldn’t get the last slot. Unbelievable!”

“It’s and expedition for a Lost City Thalasson, a prehistoric super-civilization! If I got to go just once in my life, I’d die happy. And with Chief ‘X’ leading? That’s like getting a ticket to another planet!”

Their animated praise for the “Legendary Chief of Expedition” eased some of the tension in Brigitta's chest.

Then she heard the click of impatient heels on the floor. She looked up—and froze. It was Damien and Irene!

Why were those two in the embassy? Brigitta mused to herself. A sigh of frustration escaped her lips, she was hoping those two wouldn’t notice her.

“Damien, I don’t want to go to Elyria,” Irene pouted against his chest. “I want to join that expedition team. Everyone’s talking about it now! It must've been an awesome experience! Why can Brigitta go but I can’t? She stole my spot on purpose!”

“She didn’t steal your spot. Everyone has to apply on their own. We just had bad luck. I'll make it up to you. Wait here, I need to take a call.” Damien walked out to take the call, leaving Irene alone.

Brigitta was puzzled. This morning, he had been nothing but cruel to her. Now he was defending her?

Alas, Irene had already spotted her by then.

Brigitta instinctively lowered her cap, but too late—Irene was already walking over with a smile on her face.

“Ms. Holmund, are you following us all the way here? Why do you always turn up wherever we go?”

Brigitta’s smiled out of sarcasm. “You said it yourself—I got into the expedition. I’m here to renew my visa. What about you?”

“You—!”

Irene bit back her anger and smirked instead. “So what if you got in? Your man still sleeps in my bed. You’re just left with the scraps. Happy wedding, dear 'sister'.”

Brigitta clenched her fists: “You’re just as shameless as your mother!”

Irene’s eyes gleamed with vicious pride. “My mother built her own good life. And yours? Where is she?”

Brigitta’s anger flared and she raised her hand, ready to slap her.

But Irene moved first—grabbing her wrist and slamming her hand down on the binding machine beside them. She pressed the switch.

The screw-press crushed through Brigitta’s little finger.

Blood gushed out of the wound and those around her were so frightened they backed away to a safe distance.

The pain was excurciating. Brigitta bit down hard on her lip, clutching her hand as Irene let out a piercing scream.

Damien appeared in seconds. He saw Brigitta's bleeding little finger, his eyes momentarily filled with confusion. Just as he was about to approach Brigitta, Irene grabbed his arm.

“Damien, Ms. Holmund hit me, then ran her own hand into the machine… I can’t—oh God, I can’t look—” She faked weakness and limped against him.

Damien caught her immediately and swept her up in his arms without hesitation.

Meanwhile, Brigitta’s voice shook with pain. “Damien, Take me to a hospital! I can't feel my fingers!”

There was pleading in her tone.

Yet, Damien's eyes went cold upon hearing that. “You brought this on yourself. I told you not to touch her. If you weren’t bleeding, Irene wouldn’t have fainted!”

He added, “Even if you lose the finger, you deserve it.”

And with that, Damien strode out of the embassy with Irene in his arms then drove her to the nearest hospital.

Brigitta's head buzzed as she could only stand helplessly on her spot.

This was the first time she had ever begged Damien to help her—and he had turned away. That man had seen her blood and chosen to walk past her.

The pain in her hand blurred her vision. Just before she blacked out, she felt someone catch her.

Upon regaining consciousness and opened her eyes, Brigitta found herself lying in a hospital ward.

She turned her head and looked down at her hand, only to see it wrapped entirely in gauze. The anesthetic must still be taking effect, that's must be why there was no pain.

The memory of Irene suddenly attacking her while she wasn’t on guard made Brigitta tremble with rage. The surge of anger triggered a sharp ache in her head. She tried to recall what had happened after she blacked out, but no matter how desperately she tried, she couldn't remember anything.

Who had saved her and brought her here?

Right now, the most important thing was to confirm how bad was her injury. Brigitta had no intention of delaying her plans. She pulled out the IV needle, got out of bed and went to look for a doctor.

In the duty doctor’s office, she froze at the sight. Before her was Damien speaking with the attending doctor, jotting down every detail on a notepad.

Could it be… that he regretted everything and had been the one to save her?

When Damien noticed Brigitta standing at the door, his brows knitted together. “What are you doing here? Haunting me again?”

Brigitta gave a bitter smile. “This was the only hospital near the embassy. I didn’t exactly plan on running into you.”

His gaze dropped to her bandaged hand, his tone turning cold. “She’s very weak now. Are you satisfied with that? If you hadn’t gone after Irene, none of this would’ve escalated to the point of a hospital stay. You’d better stop with the games.”

Brigitta frowned. “I didn’t touch her—she’s the one who—”

“Enough! Don’t tell me you’re going to claim she pushed you? Irene fainted from the sight of blood and still hasn’t woken up. And now you want to smear her name? Brigitta, maybe I’ve been far too lenient with you. If you pull another stunt, the wedding is off!”

Damien stormed out, walking so quickly he bumped into Brigitta's shoulder.

Brigitta didn’t even look at him. “In this lifetime, I will never marry you.”

She sat down in front of the doctor. “Doctor, how’s my hand?”

The doctor sighed. “Ms. Holmund, your fingers were badly injured—down to the bone. Luckily your husband brought you in quickly. With proper care, you’ll recover.”

“My… husband?”

“That’s right. He was just here.”

Brigitta was baffled. In her other three lifetimes, she had never been involved with any man other than Damien. So, who could it have been?

Back in her ward, she picked up her phone and made a call. After only one ring, the line connected.

“Hey, I want you to help me look into someone.”

There was silence for a few seconds before a deep male voice replied. “No need. I’ll come myself.”

Within minutes, Kaspian appeared at the door.

Brigitta’s face lit up. “Kass, you’re here! Was it you who brought me to the hospital?”

Standing before her was Kapian Voss the heir of the Morvain conglomerate—her senior back when they were studying at the same college. She had always turned to him whenever she needed help. Kaspian had never failed her.

But after marrying Damien in her previous lives, she hadn’t seen Kaspian again. Now, seeing him felt like a long-lost comfort.

The man sat down naturally, frowning. “I came here on business. Who hurt you? Does it still hurt?”

Brigitta had always regarded him like an elder brother. Around him, she could let down her guard and even act a little childish.

Once she processed Kaspian's words, Brigitta felt a bit sad. She nodded. “Yes, it hurts. But why were you hiding from me earlier?”

Kaspian cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Brigitta suddenly thought of something. “Kass, are you taking part in the Lost City of Thalasson Project?”

Kasspian nodded. “Give me your passport. I’ll get the arrangements done.”

Brigitta pulled out her passport and handed it to him. Turns out, their old dynamic was still there like before.

As he reached the door, he paused and turned to look at Brigitta. “I'll leave a few bodyguards here.”

Brigitta shook her head. “You know I won’t feel at ease with them around.”

After he left, Brigitta closed her eyes to rest. She had been so tired these past few days.

But peace didn’t last long. The door was suddenly slammed open.

Damien stormed in and angrily yanked Brigitta by the arm.

“You vile woman! You’ve gone so far to harm Irene? Get out with me!”

Damien grabbed Brigitta by the injured arm and dragged her toward the door.

The anesthetic had already worn off by then and the pain was searing. Brigitta struggled to break free from him. “Damien, let me go! I don’t even understand what you’re saying!”

His grip only tightened. “Still pretending, are you?”

She couldn’t break free and was half dragged towards Irene’s hospital bed. She tried to get up, but Damien soon held her down forcefully!

Irene sobbed on the bed. “Ms. Holmund, I’ve done everything I could to stay out of your way. Why would you still want to hurt me? Who else would send me seafood porridge when I’m allergic to it?”

Brigitta’s head snapped up, eyes locking onto the half-finished, still-steaming porridge beside Irene’s bed. “That wasn’t me! Why on earth would I send you food?”

Irene pointed at her. “The order slip had your name on it!”

Damien shouted, “Apologize to Irene!”

Brigitta shook her head fiercely. “Why should I? I didn’t do it. I won’t apologize for something I didn’t do. Since when have I ever been so generous as to bring your little kept woman porridge?”

At that, Damien’s hand slipped from her back, momentarily startled by her defiance.

Irene wept harder. “The proof is right there on the receipt! Are you saying I made it up?”

Damien frowned. “Irene would never lie. You've harassed her more than once! I’ve let it go, but now you’ve gone too far. Apologize to her!”

Brigitta forced herself upright, trembling with rage. “Even if it were me—wasn’t she the one eating it? Are you saying she couldn't tell there was seafood in that bowl? I thought she knew about her own allergies!”

Damien’s eyes narrowed. “Irene is too trusting to suspect anyone. And with the Holmund Family’s influence, you could've put this stunt easily even when this is a big hospital!”

Her voice cut like ice. “I have no interest in investigating what your woman eats—or what else she’s allergic to!”

Damien gave a cold laugh. He snatched up the steaming bowl and poured it directly over Brigitta's head.

“You still refused to apologize right? Then you should learn your lesson another way.”

The scalding heat seared her scalp. Brigitta gasped, as the sticky broth sliding down her skin. Worse, the wound on her forehead flared with fresh pain and torn up the wound open again.

The once-proud woman, always so composed, now stood humiliated before Damien and Irene.

Irene stopped crying and watched the scene with a smug expression.

Brigitta couldn't take it anymore and raised her hand, slapping Damien hard!

Slap!

Her eyes blazed. “I warned you. And yet again, you raised your hand against me—on nothing but baseless accusations! Damien, I owe you nothing. Not even bowing to your mistress. Never!”

Damien stood frozen, clearly unprepared for her retaliation. When Brigitta swung for another slap, he caught her wrist, crushing it in his grip.

“Feel better now? Brigitta, you've got the guts to stir up problem here. I won’t let you hurt my woman and walk away without consequence. If you don’t apologize right now, I’ll end our engagement this instant.”

Brigitta couldn't even care about her current pain. Caught up in anger, she looked at him with bloodshot eyes. “Let go of me!”

Thi time, Damien immediately released her, but the force was so great that he threw her to the ground.

Humiliated, nails digging into her palms, Brigitta thought bitterly of how she should have accepted Kaspian’s offer to leave bodyguards with her.

Wiping her face—uncertain whether it was tears or porridge—she forced herself to maintain her composure.

“You don’t need to threaten me with breaking the engagement. I’ll save you the trouble. I’m done with you, Damien. I want this engagement end.”

The man frowned in response. “Don’t play this stupid push and pull game with me. It only makes me despise you more.”

He then pointed to the door, towering over her. “Get out. Don’t disturb Irene’s rest.”

Brigitta’s mouth tasted of bitterness, her heart of hate.

She straightened her spine and stared at them both down.

“Listen carefully. I will never marry you, Damien. Whatever the two of you do from now on—none of it has anything to do with me.”