Hazel woke up and found herself in a hospital bed. She survived. Someone pulled her out of that basement. For a moment, she thought maybe it was Vincent—that perhaps he’d softened and, with some lingering feeling for her, had rescued her.

But when she turned her head, she saw her father sitting beside her, a thick bandage wrapped around his head. Only then did she realize it hadn’t been Vincent. It was her father who had risked everything to drag her badly injured body out of the basement.

He even knelt before Milena, taking the blame for himself. Only then had Vincent finally relented and agreed to get her to the hospital.

Hazel closed her eyes, pain ripping through her. She couldn’t bear to look at her father’s wounds, afraid that the next second she might lose control and kill Vincent.

It took a long time for her to steady herself. When she finally opened her eyes and looked at her father, she whispered, “Don’t worry. Five days from now, I’ll get you and Sadie out of here.”

But just as she finished her words, the ward door was flung open.

Vincent’s brows furrowed slightly, his tone tinged with a panic he wasn't even aware of.

“Out of here? Where are you going?”

Hazel hadn’t expected him to come. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, but her expression remained calm.

“Just out for a walk. What? You can’t even let me have a little freedom?”

Hearing this, Vincent breathed a sigh of relief. “Of course not. As long as you don’t hurt Milena, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I came to ask you to help record a video,” he said.

The footage from the dart room had been leaked online by someone with ulterior motives. Milena’s personal information had been exposed and netizens were attacking her relentlessly.

They weren’t just calling her a murderer—they were labeling her as “Vincent’s mistress.”

Vincent had wiped the trending searches seven times but still couldn’t stop it. He had no choice but to ask Hazel, as the older sister of the victim, to record a video, clearing the situation.

“I want you to tell everyone it was you who sent your sister to be the target, that you deliberately caused her to lose her balanc and get hurt,” Vincent said, eyes narrowing. “Only then will people believe it was your jealousy of my attention toward Milena that drove you to set this trap—and stop the online attacks.”

Hazel, sitting on the hospital bed, grew paler by the second. She stared at him, a wave of sorrow washing over her.

To clear Milena’s name, he was willing to throw all the dirt onto her. This was the same Vincent who had once treated her like the center of his world, who had feared she would suffer even the smallest grievance.

But Hazel knew resistance was useless—it would only bring more trouble to herself and her family.

“I can agree to record the video, but my sister’s surgery has to start now. She can’t wait.”

Vincent didn’t hesitate. He ordered the surgeons to begin Sadie’s operation right in front of her.

Slightly relieved, Hazel mustered her remaining strength and got out of bed to record the video.

As expected, once the video was released, the internet’s anger shifted entirely onto her.

Not only her private phone number was exposed and people constantly harassed her, some even showed up at the hospital, leaving funeral wreaths and cursing her and her sister to die.

Exhausted, Hazel turned her phone off for a full day, too afraid to check it.

That evening, Vincent arrived after hearing about disturbances at the hospital There was a rare look of pity on his face and he gently wiped away Hazel's tears. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll assign extra bodyguards to protect you.”

“As for the online attacks, Milena’s just come out of the storm. The truth can’t be cleared yet. In three days, I’ll hire a PR company to restore you and your sister’s reputation.”

But what was the point of vindication so delayed?

Hazel refused to look at his hypocritical face and silently told herself, “No need for that.”

Once Vincent assigned the three bodyguards, the hospital became much quieter. Hazel could finally rest and focus on recovering. She thought she could safely spend the next few days healing. But she hadn’t counted on Milena demanding her to be her personal cook.

“Everyone knows Hazel’s an amazing cook. I don’t want the chef’s food—I only want the meals she makes herself!”

Vincent couldn’t argue with her and nodded lovingly. “Fine. Let Hazel cook for you, then.”

Hazel arrived at the VIP ward just in time to see the scene. Her chest tightened.

Three years ago, Vincent had nearly died from a sudden stomach attack. Back then, Hazel swore she’d learn how to cook, so she could take care of the man she loved. She had always been smart, but cooking was the one thing she had no talent for. She had cut herself so many times that her fingers were covered in tiny scars. But she persisted. And eventually, she succeeded.

Vincent moved in tears, holding her in his arms and whispering, “From now on, you’ll only ever cook for me.”

Now, that same man had just handed her over like a servant, all because another woman pouted.

Hazel came to her senses and forced herself to calm down. Her sister was still in surgery; she had to endure it.

“What would you like me to make?” she asked.

Milena named a dish casually, then watched Hazel leave with a sneer. She had long since plotted revenge for the earlier confrontation.

Half an hour later, a bowl of lamb soup sat in front of Milena. After a few sips, she began convulsing. Her skin flushed violently.

“Vincent… help me!”

By the time Vincent rushed in, Milena was on the floor, foaming at the mouth, barely breathing.

She refused to let the doctors operate until he arrived. “Vincent,” she gasped, clutching his sleeve weakly, “Hazel knows I’m allergic to lamb. She did it on purpose… you have to—”

Before she could finish her words, Milena collapsed.

Vincent’s face twisted with fury. His fist slammed into the wall beside Hazel’s head.

“Why, Hazel?” he shouted. “Why can’t you stop? I told you—I only see her as a sister! Why are you still trying to hurt her?”

Hazel’s eyes were ice. “She asked for the dish herself. She planned this. If you don’t believe me, you can—”

Her words cut off as Vincent’s hand cracked across her face.

He looked at her with disgust, as though she’d committed an unforgivable sin. “Go kneel in the hallway and atone for your scene,” he ordered coldly. “You don’t get up until Milena wakes.”

Hearing this, Hazel almost lost her balance. So many patients and staff were walking past—he wanted her to kneel in front of everyone? 

Before she could resist, Vincent’s bodyguards forced her to the cold floor. A nurse whispered and pointed.

“Isn’t that Mr. Clarke’s wife? I heard she’s cruel and jealous — always picking on Milena, his little sister.”

“Is she mentally ill? Anyone can see how much Mr. Clarke loves his sister. She must be crazy to keep pushing her.”

Hazel lowered her head as her tears hit the floor. Even strangers could see it — Vincent really doted on Milena. She shouldn’t have been standing in the way.

She didn’t know how long she’d been kneeling when Vincent suddenly came running toward her.

“Get up!” he barked in a panic tone. “Milena needs blood. Come with me!”

Still dazed, Hazel was dragged into the blood extraction room.

The sight of the thick needles made her stomach drop. Her lips turned pale with fear. “No. I can’t donate. Find someone else.”

She had just undergone an abortion and had lost so much blood. Donating blood to Milena now would be too much for her body

But Vincent ignored her protests, thinking she was just pretending. He commanded the doctors to proceed, using the largest possible needle.

“Milena’s very weak. Draw triple the amount for backup,” he said coldly.

By the time it was over, she lost all strength and collapsed in the blood draw room like a rag. Her arms were covered in bruises.

No one came to help her.

She didn’t know how long she sat there before she finally gathered enough strength to stand. Holding onto the wall for balance, she stumbled step by step back to her ward.

But when she pushed open the door, her heart froze. Her father was gone. Every single thing in the room had been thrown to the floor.

Hazel’s chest tightened. Ignoring her weak body, she sought Vincent.

“Where did you take my father?!” she demanded.

Vincent was sitting by Milena’s bed, carefully helping her drink water. His brows furrowed at Hazel’s outburst.

“Do you know Milena almost die because of you? You need to learn a lesson.”

“The research project your dad and I worked on had problems. I’ve already contacted the university. If nothing unexpected happens, he should be reviewing it now.”

At this point, he snorted coldly, “I’ve already been soft enough to you, Hazel. If something like this happens again, I won’t let it off easy.”

But Hazel simply ignored it and she took a step back sadly instead.

“My dad devoted everything to you! Every opportunity, every resource—he gave it to you first!” And now you repay him by reporting him? You’re monster!”

She rushed out of the ward without looking back and took a taxi straight to the university.

When she arrived there, the sight before her made her knees give way. Her father—an upright man who had lived honorably his whole life—was standing on stage, bowing his head, confessing mistake to the entire school.

He was bowing and apologizing for things he hadn't done

Tears blurred Hazel’s vision. Her emotions boiling over. She rushed forward, grabbed the microphone from his hands and shouted through her tears, “My father did nothing wrong! He’s innocent! Please, you have to believe him!”

But the crowd had already recognized her—the infamous manipulative Mrs. Clarke, the "green tea girl" who had been making a lot of noise online lately

They surrounded her and threw their weapons at her. Chaos erupted.

Her father, trying to shield her, fell to his knees as the mob’s fists and kicks rained down on him. Then, suddenly, his body stiffened. He fell backward.

Hazel's heart felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over her. With trembling hands, she reached out to check her father's breath.

But he was completely dead.

She was heartbroken, cradling her father's body, sobbing heartbreakingly on the stage

The crowd, realizing what they’d done, scattered in terror. But her father’s colleague eventually arrived, helping Hazel carry the body away. Together, they took him to the crematorium.

By the end, Hazel’s eyes were swollen red. She hugged the urn tightly, whispering a broken thank-you to them before heading back to the hospital.

Now, her sister was all she had left. She had to protect her at any cost!

When she pushed open the hospital room door, her blood ran cold. Milena was standing by the bed, stabbing his sister straight in the chest with a knife.

Without thinking, Hazel charged forward. She grabbed the knife with her bare hand. Blood poured down her wrist, but she didn’t even flinch. She planted herself between Milena and the bed.

“I want you to pay for my father’s death!”

Hazel wanted to grab the knife and die with Milena, but her body was too weak. In the struggle, Milena’s hand slipped—and the knife plunged into Hazel’s shoulder.

Horrified at what she had done, Milena screamed.

Hearing the noise, Vincent rushed in. His eyes widened at the sight of Hazel covered in blood. Panic gripped him.

“Hazel, don’t be scared,” he said, reaching for her. “Milena didn’t mean to hurt you.”

But before he could touch her, Hazel pulled the knife from her shoulder and without hesitation, plunged it into his chest. The horror froze Vincent in place.

Milena shrieked at the same time, furious.

“How dare you try to hurt Vincent?! I’ll kill you!” she shouted, lunging at her.

But Vincent stopped her.

He scooped the collapsing Hazel into his arms and strode out the door.

“Doctor! I need doctor! Somebody save her!” he shouted.

Feeling her warm, sticky blood coating his hands, Vincent’s heart was in turmoil.