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.”

Brigitta had no idea how she managed to walk out of the hospital. Despite the doctor’s repeated warnings, she insisted on signing her own discharge papers.

She sent Kaspian a message, telling him she had matters to settle first and that they could meet up afterward. The last thing she wanted was for anyone she knew to see her in such a messy state.

So, she hailed a cab and went straight home.

Standing under the showerhead, letting the water pour down her body, Brigitta replayed what had just happened. She still couldn’t believe it—was Damien really unable to see through Irene’s cheap lies?

No. He simply didn’t want Irene to feel guilty.

Brigitta looked at her bandaged hand and forehead. Just like in her past lives, whenever Damien and Irene were involved, she ended up covered in injuries. This time, she decided to leave first thing in the morning and rejoin her expedition team earlier than planned.

The next morning, Brigitta carefully cleaned her wounds and dressed herself properly.

Before leaving, she planned to visit the Arkwright mansion. She intended to return the family’s heirloom—the emerald bracelet Lena had personally entrusted to her—and to formally announce that their wedding was off.

The bracelet had been passed down for generations; only the Arkwrights’ daughter-in-law was allowed to wear it. According to the press, it was worth billions.

But before Brigitta even opened the door, movers were already hauling in crates of supplements, health tonics and specialty foods.

She froze in confusion, just as Damien walked in arm-in-arm with Irene. They eventually stopped and got face to face with Brigitta at the entrance.

“So much for saying you wouldn’t marry me. Why are you still here? You're just putting on a show.”

Brigitta sighed. “Damien, this place was bought by both our families. It’s not just yours. I’m not squatting in your home—this is my home, too.”

Her eyes caught on his hand resting gently on Irene’s stomach. The sight made her pause.

Then Damien’s gaze shifted to the bag slung over her shoulder. “Where are you going with that?”

“None of your business,” Brigitta said flatly.

The man ignored her tone and went on casually, “Irene’s pregnant. She can’t stay elsewhere anymore—she needs to be here to rest. You can pack your things and move into the guest room.”

Irene placed her hand over his. “Ms. Holmund, I should really thank you. If you hadn’t frightened me into fainting and ending up in the hospital, I wouldn’t have found out I was carrying Damien’s child.”

She buried her face against his chest, their intimacy felt sickeningly sweet.

Brigitta had anticipated the news from their gestures, but hearing it confirmed still struck her.

Irene actually got pregnant. In all her past lives, this had never happened. Still, none of it mattered anymore.

Brigitta turned to leave. “Do whatever you want. I’m already moving out.”

Damien grabbed her arm and frowned. “Moving out? No one asked you to leave. I just said to clear out your things for Irene’s sake. She’s frail, she needs someone to look after her. You’ll take care of her during the pregnancy.”

Brigitta gave a bitter laugh. “Me? Take care of your mistress? Why on earth would I do that?”

“I won't give her a title,” Damien said, “but the child will have one. My heir, an Arkwright. And if it bothers you, I’ll give you a child too—but we’ll claim it’s illegitimate. I won’t let Irene’s child have to share its inheritance.”

Tears welled in Irene’s eyes as she clung to him.

“Damien… you’re so good to me. I’ll give you as many children as you want.”

Brigitta sneered. “Then go ahead and keep having them. But not with me. We’ll never have children together. And I’m certainly not going to nurse her through a pregnancy. I’m leaving.”

As she reached for the door handle, Irene noticed the heirloom emerald bracelet on Brigitta's wrist.

“Damien! Look at her bracelet—I want it! It’s beautiful,” Irene turned to Damien.

Without hesitation, Damien pulled out his phone, activating the mansion's remote locks. “Irene likes it. Take it off. Consider it a gift to the child.”

Brigitta stared at him in disbelief. “Damien, that bracelet is your family’s heirloom! It’s not something you just hand over!”

He dismissed her. “It’s just an object. My mother gave it to you, why shouldn’t Irene have it? Don’t pretend this isn’t about the title it represents. Take it off yourself, or I’ll do it for you.”

Brigitta didn’t want him touching her. Without another word, she slid the bracelet from her wrist and handed it to Irene.

Irene’s face lit up, but the next it got twisted with malice. She intentionally loosened her grip. As a result, the emerald bracelet shattered against the floor.

Irene ducked behind Damien, tears brimming again. “Ms. Holmund, if you didn’t want to give it to me, you don't have to smash it out of spite!”

Brigitta stared at the fragments on the ground—the very last tie she had to Damien.

Slap!

Damien’s palm struck her face.

“So petty. You’d rather destroy it than give it to her? You’ll pay for this. I'll sue the Holmunds!”