Hendrick was a no-show at the hospital for the following days. It wasn't until Savannah was preparing her discharge that she finally saw him.

He and Chantelle stood at her ward's door. She clung to his arm, her complexion rosy and visibly healthy.

"You're healing so fast, Savannah. Unlike me, I've always been sickly since I was a kid. I just had a little cold, but Ricky freaked out and insisted on dragging me here for a checkup," Chantelle said with a playful pout.

Meanwhile, Savannah calmly packed her bag, not lifting her head once.

Hendrick's gaze lingered on her face, as though searching for a trace of emotion.

Suddenly, he said, "I thought I'd come pick you up while we're here. Elle's place is undergoing a renovation, so she'll be moving in with us for the next few days."

"Oh." Savannah zipped her bag, nonchalantly replying, "Sure."

Once the one-month divorce waiting period was over, they would have nothing to do with each other. Who he wanted to live with after that was none of her business.

At her indifference, Hendrick's expression darkened instantly.

Back at the villa, he acted all close and affectionate with Chantelle right in front of Savannah. No matter how much he tried to get a reaction, Savannah stayed completely unmoved.

At dinner, he fed Chantelle food, while Savannah chewed mechanically, the food tasting like cardboard.

Suddenly, Chantelle let out a scream. She scratched her arm and mumbled, "It's so itchy…"

Savannah looked up and saw large red rashes spreading across Chantelle's neck. Her breathing grew shallow and fast.

Immediately, Hendrick picked her up and shouted, "Call the doctor!"

Soon, their private doctor arrived. Chantelle was diagnosed with a peanut allergy.

Hendrick's face grew stormy as he called the servant over, interrogating, "How many times have I reminded you? Elle is allergic to peanuts! Why was there peanut butter in our dinner?"

The servant, Sammy Larson, lowered her head, nervously twisting the edge of her apron, eyes flickering toward Savannah.

"Mrs. Cook made me do it… I'm sorry, Mr. Cook. I was just taking an order…"

Savannah jumped up in shock, and her chair scraped loudly against the floor. "When did I ever—"

"Please don't deny it, Mrs. Cook," Sammy interrupted, her voice raised. "You said it yourself, you couldn't stand Ms. Stone moving in. You were jealous of how Mr. Cook treats her, so you told us to teach her a lesson."

"Savannah."

Then came Hendrick's cold-plunged voice. He stepped forward, each step echoing sharply on the marble floor.

"Since the day at the courthouse, you've been quiet—and I thought you'd finally learned. But I never expected you'd be scheming against Elle instead!"

He looked down at her, his gaze sharp enough to pierce through her thoughts.

Savannah was just about to speak in her defense when she suddenly froze. She saw it—a faint, fleeting smile tugging at the corner of Hendrick's lips. It vanished almost instantly, but it had been real.

"Since you had the audacity to trigger Elle's allergy," he said as he turned to the wine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of strong liquor, "You should know how it feels, too."

The bottom of the glass bottle made a crisp sound as it hit the table.

A chill swept through Savannah, her back pressed against the cold wall. He knew she was allergic to alcohol—he had always known.

Two bodyguards pinned her shoulders from both sides, their rough fingers digging painfully into her skin. The liquor burned like fire as it was forced down her throat, scorching its way from her mouth to her stomach.

She coughed violently, tears oozing out from her eyes, but they still made her drink over half the bottle.

Soon, the familiar stinging sensation spread from deep within her skin. Red rashes bloomed across her neck and arms. Her breathing grew labored, and the world around her blurred into a haze.

Just before everything faded to black, the last thing she saw was Hendrick standing against the light, wearing an almost imperceptible smile.

He was actually smiling.

When she woke again, the bedroom was dimly lit by only a single warm wall lamp.

Hendrick sat at the edge of the bed, his long fingers flipping through a document. He looked up when he heard her stir.

"You're up," he said, closing the file. His tone was calm as if he were merely commenting on the weather. "Don't do it again."

Savannah forced herself to sit up, her throat burning with pain. She looked at the calm expression on his face, so much softer now.

Suddenly, it all made sense. The realization crushed her.

It was never about Chantelle's allergy because he didn't care about that at all. What he cared about was her recent indifference. What he desired was watching her jealous, unraveling for him.

As written in the letters locked away in that safe, he loved seeing her lose her mind over him; loved watching her spiral and become irrational…

Unfortunately, for Hendrick, Savannah wasn't about to continue this game with him.

In another 15 days, they would officially be divorced. By then, they would have nothing to do with each other.

Two days later, Chantelle's design won an excellence award. Hendrick threw a grand celebration party just for her.

Under the crystal chandeliers, he stayed by her side the whole time, blocking drinks for her, smoothing her dress, and being unbelievably gentle and attentive.

The guests whispered among themselves, saying how Hendrick treated Chantelle like a queen while acting coldly to his wife, Savannah. If the latter hadn't begged to save their marriage every time, it would've ended long ago.

Savannah stood in the corner, swirling her champagne glass and turning a deaf ear to the gossips. Halfway through the party, she headed near the man-made lake outside for some fresh air.

The cool night breeze carried away the lingering scent of alcohol.

"What's wrong? Are you finally cracking?"

Chantelle's smug, victorious voice came from behind. She clicked her heels and arrived beside Savannah, lips curling into a sarcastic smile.

"If I were you, I would've packed my bags and left to save myself from the humiliation long ago."

Savannah barely glanced in her direction. "Go away."

"What, you're acting all high and mighty now? You'd pursued Ricky for four years and been married to him for three, yet you still can't get him to look your way. Pathetic."

She sneered, continuing, "Believe me, even if I pushed you into the lake right now, he wouldn't bat an eye."

Savannah was suddenly slammed by a strong force. She fell into the lake with a loud splash, and the cold water instantly entered her mouth and nose.

She struggled to scream, only to swallow more water in the process.

Amid her haze, she saw a figure charging wildly toward her and diving into the lake without hesitation.

"Sav!" Hendrick screamed frantically like never before as he swam furiously to her.

He wrapped his arm tightly around her, and in her daze, she caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were filled with such raw fear and urgency that, for a moment, she felt stunned.

Standing on the shore, Chantelle was completely frozen, unable to believe what she was seeing. The man who was always cold and distant toward Savannah was now diving into the lake like a madman.

The way he held her felt like he was protecting a precious treasure he had just recovered.

No, this couldn't be right. She had to be mistaken!

After being pulled ashore, Hendrick knelt and performed CPR on Savannah.

His long fingers were visibly trembling. Only when Savannah coughed up a few mouthfuls of water did he finally exhale in relief.

Yet, the next moment, his expression suddenly stiffened, as if something had dawned upon him.

He stood up, hiding all emotion, and slipped back into his usual distant demeanor. "You managed to fall even at a party?"

Savannah, soaked and sitting on the ground, clenched her wet dress tightly in her fingers. However, she spoke with surprising clarity. "I didn't fall. Chantelle pushed me."

Immediately, Chantelle's eyes reddened. She eagerly shook her head and denied, "I didn't, Savannah! Why would you frame me like that?"

"Fine."

Savannah scoffed, fishing out her phone with a trembling hand. "Since you're not about to admit it, I'll let the cops do their job. Attempted murder? You're really asking for it."

Her finger was just about to press the dial button when Hendrick clasped her wrist.

"Enough," he said, his grip on her arm almost crushing her bones. "Elle didn't mean it, so stop blowing things out of proportion."

Savannah was in utter disbelief. She furiously shook her head and exclaimed, "She almost got me killed!"

"But you're breathing and talking now, aren't you?" He narrowed his eyes, warning, "Quit it now."

What an absurd situation. She understood that he needed to use Chantelle to provoke her, but did he have to risk her life for his stupid game, too?

"Quit what?" she retorted strongly, determined to dial 999. "I'm calling the police."

"I said, enough!" Hendrick snapped, snatching her phone away. "If you can't get any sense into your head, go home and reflect."

With that, he beckoned the bodyguards over. "Bring her to the confinement room. Do not release her until she's figured things out."

Savannah struggled violently as the bodyguards dragged her toward the confinement room. She yelled hoarsely, "Hendrick, are you crazy? She was trying to kill me! You know that!"

Her nails raked bloody scratches down the bodyguards' arms, and her high heels fell off during the struggle. However, their grip was too strong.

She resembled a butterfly with its wings crushed, flapping helplessly.

When the heavy door slammed shut behind her, Savannah's pupils contracted sharply. The tiny room, barely six feet by six feet, had no windows. Darkness overwhelmed her like a tidal wave, swallowing her whole.

"Let me out," she begged with a trembling voice.

The panic of claustrophobia gripped her throat like an invisible hand. Then, she recalled how her stepmother had locked her in the basement for three days and nights when she was only ten.

That crushing feeling of being abandoned by the whole world washed over her again, as strong as ever after all these years.

Curled up in the corner, Savannah dug her nails deep into her palms. In the darkness, she heard the scurrying of rats and bit her lip hard to keep from making a sound.

Time blurred—maybe it had been an hour, maybe a whole day.

She refused to eat any of the food that was brought to her, and the water cup was knocked over on the floor. Her throat felt like it was on fire from thirst, but the mental torture broke her far more than the physical pain.

The next day, the door finally opened. The bright light flooding in blinded Savannah, and she instinctively squeezed her eyes shut.

"Still calling the cops?" Hendrick asked, his voice ringing from above.

She weakly lifted her head and saw him standing against the light. After a day apart, he was still impeccably dressed in his suit, every cuff perfectly in place.

Meanwhile, there she was, disheveled and battered like a madwoman.

She broke into laughter, but tears started streaming down her face.

"No," she uttered softly, defenseless. "I won't do anything anymore."

Instead, she simply wanted freedom—to be far away from Chantelle, from Hendrick, and from this cage that was slowly devouring her.

Hendrick frowned at her unusual reaction, and an inexplicable unease rose. Soon, though, he regained his usual aloofness. "Remember what you said."

With that, he turned away, perfectly missing the look of determination in Savannah's eyes.

Savannah stumbled back to her room and collapsed onto the bed, burying her face deep into the covers. She thought she had run out of tears, but they still came, soaking silently into the pillow.

Curled up like a sleepy kitten, she found even breathing hurt. She lay there in a daze for the entire day, stationary.

It wasn't until the next day that she finally managed to get up and forced herself to eat a little and drink some water, moving like a machine.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed with a text notification from her university group chat.

"Alumni gathering, 7:00 pm at Regalia Hotel tonight. Drop by if you can!"

Savannah stared at her phone screen, dazed. Perhaps she should see her university friends for one last time, considering she would be leaving soon.

It would be a farewell.

The lights of Regalia Hotel were dazzling. Savannah put on some light makeup to cover up her puffy eyes and attended the gathering in a simple white dress.

"Savannah!" Her ex-roommate, Renee Langston, called out. "Over here!"

A few more of her former classmates sat around the table, all talking at once and asking how she had been.

Renee leaned in with a teasing grin. "Back then, you were so obsessed with winning over Hendrick, our campus heartthrob. So? Did you end up dating him?"

A few others turned to her with curious eyes, and Savannah's fingers paused slightly.

Back in university, her pursuit of Hendrick had been so loud and dramatic that everyone knew about it. However, he hadn't said yes to her until after graduation, so hardly anyone knew they had ended up together.

Not to mention, he had thought a wedding was too much of a hassle, so there had never been a proper ceremony.

"I didn't," Savannah replied softly, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

If she could go back in time, she wished she had never met Hendrick.

"Seriously? Not even a cute girl like you could win his heart?" one exclaimed, adding, "He's so picky!"

"It's okay. I know a few great men I can introduce you to." Renne pulled out her phone. "Here! Let me show them to you!"

"Show what?"

A low and cold voice sounded behind them. Savannah's whole body trembled, and she turned her head, only to see… him.

Hendrick stood not far away with Chantelle by his side. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, the diamond pin on his tie catching the light and sparkling brilliantly.

"H-Hendrick?"

Everyone was shocked, gasping. Meanwhile, Chantelle clung to his arm, radiant in a striking red dress. The moment they appeared, they stole the spotlight with ease.

"Is she… your girlfriend?" someone asked tentatively.

Chantelle lowered her head shyly, and Hendrick didn't deny it. The room was instantly filled with teasing and excited chatter.

"Of course, the campus heartthrob is dating a stunning woman! What a perfect match!"

Savannah looked down and drank her water, pretending she hadn't heard a thing. However, Hendrick's gaze stayed fixed on her, sharp as a knife.

The mood in the private room picked up again, with classmates breaking off into groups to catch up.

Someone suggested playing Truth or Dare. The bottle spun a few rounds and then came to a perfect stop, pointing directly at Chantelle.

"I pick Dare!" she said sweetly, eyes darting toward Hendrick.

"You must smooch with a guy in this room for ten seconds!"

As soon as the dare was announced, the room erupted with cheers and teasing.

Chantelle blushed, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her dress. Without the slightest hesitation, she walked straight toward Hendrick, who was lounging lazily on the couch.

His gaze, however, drifted past the crowd and eventually landed on Savannah in the corner.

She was looking down at her phone, completely unbothered by the scene unfolding before her. Immediately, his expression hardened.

Chantelle stood before Hendrick, shyly biting her lip. "Ricky…"

Under everyone's gaze, he reached out, cupped the back of her head, and passionately kissed her. The shrieks and whistles nearly blew the roof off.

The kiss lasted far longer than the ten seconds the game called for. He even exaggerated it, making sure the sound of it was deliberately suggestive.

Finally, Savannah looked up, but she only gave the scene a calm glance before returning to her phone. At that, Hendrick's expression darkened even more.