Chapter 3
Bang—
The gunshot echoed through the study. The pistol clattered from Sylvia's hand to the floor.
She clutched her left hand — shot clean through — and slowly turned to look at Damien.
He stood a few feet away, his face tight with concern as he steadied Renee in his arms. He didn't spare Sylvia a single glance.
"Are you alright?" He looked down at Renee.
Renee buried herself against his chest, tears streaming, her voice trembling with theatrical fear. "Damien, if the bodyguard had been even a second slower, would I be dead right now?"
"She already destroyed Maggie's life. Now she wants to kill me too?"
A flash of murderous fury crossed Damien's eyes. He seized Sylvia by the throat and lifted her off the ground. "Sylvia. You're still completely unrepentant."
"I nearly died in that gang shootout. Renee risked her own life to treat my wounds. And you?"
He stared at her like she was something rotting. "You were off having the time of your life with another man. You deserve to die. The entire Orsini family deserves to die. And that bastard child you gave birth to — he deserves it most of all."
Sylvia snarled through clenched teeth. "That's not what happened! Back then—"
"Enough!" Damien hurled her aside. "I'm done listening to your excuses."
Her body slammed into the wall.
Already battered and broken, she couldn't withstand the impact. She collapsed face-down on the floor, coughing up mouthful after mouthful of blood.
As consciousness slipped away, her mind drifted back three years.
She and Damien had been married for two years by then. It was an arranged union between their families, but they'd built something stable. Comfortable. Sylvia had even gotten pregnant.
Just when she thought life would go on like that — Maggie came back.
She's the one that got away. The moment she reappeared, she consumed his attention completely.
He started staying out all night. He publicly defended Maggie at every opportunity, making it clear to everyone in their circle that the position of Mrs. Nguyen was on borrowed time.
Sylvia couldn't bear it. She made scenes. She confronted Maggie in public, calling her shameless — a homewrecker who preyed on other women's marriages.
Maggie would shrink away in humiliation. But Damien always retaliated on her behalf.
Sometimes he'd publicly dote on Maggie, leaving Sylvia standing there as his wife, utterly humiliated.
Sometimes he'd target the Orsini family's business interests — a pointed little lesson.
Sometimes he'd bid up auction prices to absurd heights just to win Maggie a piece of jewelry, making sure everyone saw how much she mattered to him.
During that time, Sylvia had been like a woman possessed — lashing out at Maggie, desperately trying to win Damien back.
Then one day, Damien stormed home covered in wounds, demanding to know who she'd been sleeping with. He nearly killed her.
Sylvia had never been unfaithful. She refused to confess to something she hadn't done.
But no matter how many times she denied it, Damien dismissed every word as another lie.
And then — Maggie's assault. Renee publicly accused Sylvia of hiring the attackers. Damien threw her into prison, and three years of torment began.
Sylvia lifted her head now and looked at the disgust carved across Damien's face.
She laughed.
The laughter cracked open, and tears spilled down like a broken strand of pearls.
"I was wrong. From the very beginning, it was all my fault."
Her fists clenched against the floor. She lay there, laughing and crying at once. "I shouldn't have loved you. I shouldn't have dreamed of giving you a child. I shouldn't have tried to compete with Maggie when I knew — I always knew — she was the one you wanted."
She should have given up long ago.
If she had, Milo wouldn't be dead. The Orsini family wouldn't have been destroyed. Her father and grandfather would still be alive.
And Clyde — the brother who had cherished her since childhood, who had held her like something precious — he wouldn't have vanished without a trace.
But it was too late.
By the time she understood, the dead were already gone. They were never coming back.
What now? What could she possibly do now?
Sylvia pressed her hand over her heart. Wave after wave of crushing pain stole the air from her lungs.
She lay on the floor, crying and laughing like a madwoman. Damien watched, and something blurred at the edges of his vision.
When had the woman who once lit up all of Skyview City — the stunning Orsini heiress — become this?
"Damien."
Sylvia raised her head suddenly, staring straight into his eyes. "Let me give you my life. Once I do, I won't owe you anything anymore."
"In my next life, I will never love you again."
She was on her feet before the last word left her lips, sprinting toward the window.
"Sylvia!" Damien realized what she meant and lunged after her with a roar.
He was one step too late. Sylvia leaped from the window like a butterfly taking flight — and plunged downward.
"SYLVIA!!!"
The sound of bones shattering came first. Then pain — the kind that felt like every organ inside her had been fed through a grinder.
Sylvia couldn't scream. The agony was so total it stole her voice entirely.
"Sylvia! Sylvia!"
From somewhere high above, through the darkness consuming her, Damien's voice reached her — frantic, cracking, laced with a panic she had never heard from him before.
Her clouded eyes drifted upward.
Damien was leaning out the window, staring down at her. There was fear on his face.
Three years.
This was the first time she'd ever seen him look at her like that. And it had taken her trying to die.
The ambulance screamed to a halt within minutes. Paramedics swarmed around her, lifting her onto a stretcher.
Sylvia's consciousness flickered — blacking out from the pain, surfacing again, sinking back under. On the way to the hospital, she vaguely felt someone gripping her hand the entire time, squeezing so hard it felt like the bones might crack.
"Sylvia, you are not allowed to die." A hoarse, low voice above her.
"Not without my permission. You don't get to die."
Damien's irrational command carried something she'd never heard in it before — the faintest tremor of reluctance to let go.
An illusion.
It had to be an illusion.
If he wanted her alive, it was only so he could keep tormenting her.
The moment they arrived, Sylvia was rushed into the emergency operating room.
The red light above the door flicked on.
Damien collapsed into a chair, drenched in cold sweat. His elbows dug into his knees, and the tips of his hanging fingers trembled.
He glanced down at the wide stain of crimson soaking his shirt. A nurse had applied pressure bandages in the ambulance, but the sheer amount of blood was still jarring.
She really hadn't held back.
She'd pulled the trigger without a second's hesitation. And when she threw herself from that window — there was no doubt in her at all. Only finality.
She actually believed death was an escape?
That dying would settle everything?
And what about him?
What about the people left behind?
He would never allow it.
Dying wouldn't be that easy.
"Mr. Nguyen."
A voice broke through his thoughts.
A nurse hurried over. "The patient has multiple fractures and severe internal hemorrhaging. She needs immediate surgery. We need your signature."
Damien took the pen. His hand wouldn't stop shaking. He drew a deep breath and uncapped it.
He had signed contracts worth hundreds of millions of dollars. None of them had ever felt this heavy.
"How long will the surgery take?"
"If everything goes smoothly, about eight hours."
He handed back the signed consent form. His voice was low and absolute. "Save her. Whatever it takes."
"If she dies, this entire hospital won't have a reason to exist."
The icy menace in his tone drained the color from the nurse's face. She gave a quick, respectful acknowledgment, clutched the form to her chest, and rushed back into the operating room.
