Chapter 3

She almost collapsed to her knees, her voice as faint as the wind. “What are you going to do to her?”

There was no reply.

The world seemed to be muted.

She couldn’t bear it anymore and fell to the floor, the darkness quickly swallowing her whole.

——

When Ophelia opened her eyes again, she was still in the hospital room. A nurse entered and told her, “Madam, your husband instructed us to take good care of your health.”

Alexander? The man who said he wanted a divorce? What was he pretending to be now? Before she had time to gather her thoughts, the door to her room was suddenly pushed open.

Her mother’s servant rushed in, panic-stricken—

“Miss Ophelia, your mother…”

A cold chill surged in her chest. Ophelia grabbed the woman’s wrist in terror. “What happened?”

The maid trembled, her lips quivering as she whispered, “Miss Wren came here… the next day, she jumped off the estate balcony.”

Ophelia froze in shock. She staggered off the bed, nearly losing consciousness. The maid tried to stop her, but Ophelia shoved her away.

Her bare feet hit the cold hospital floor, pain shooting through her weakened body, but she didn’t care. She had to see her mother. She had to make sure her mother was still alive.

Why had her mother suddenly jumped? She had suffered from depression since her father was imprisoned, but she had been doing much better since Ophelia told her she was pregnant.

It must have been Wren who told her mother the news. Her mother must have fallen into a deep self-blame, thinking it was her fault that Alexander had abandoned her!

Wren, Alexander!

She muttered their names, her lips bleeding from the force, and once she confirmed they were behind it, she would take revenge.

When she arrived at their old estate, the memorial service had already been set up.

And Alexander stood in front of the reception table, dressed in a black suit, his face cold and stern, matching the black attire perfectly—so seductive.

But she knew he was a disguised snake.

She immediately walked over, extending her hand to slap Alexander.

But he pulled her into his embrace, whispering, “Now is not the time for a conversation, unless you want your mother to never rest in peace.”

His breath sprayed against her neck, and she smelled the familiar scent of woodsy cologne. Her tears almost spilled over again. He hated her, but his embrace was still warm.

She bit her lip and immediately pushed him away, saying nothing, standing at his right side.

Everyone who passed by embraced them sympathetically. She stared at her mother’s photo in the memorial hall, and her tears flowed uncontrollably once again. Alexander’s handkerchief was offered at the right time. Just as she was about to take it, she heard the voice of the snake.

“I came to see how you’re doing,” Wren continued, with a hint of feigned concern in her tone. “I heard your mother suddenly climbed to the rooftop. I’m so sorry.”

“Get out!” Ophelia screamed, slapping Wren across the face. “You snake!”

Immediately, Alexander pulled Wren behind him. “Stop your theatrics! Ophelia!”

Her cold gaze met Alexander’s. He wore a well-tailored black suit, still as handsome as ever—tall, powerful, imposing. But his eyes? Cold, hollow, and filled with contempt.

Ophelia’s throat felt dry. “Do you know it was Wren who killed my mother?” she said, turning to Wren again. “My mother was so good to you. How could you be so cruel?!”

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just came to visit her. I knew she was sick, and I often came to keep her company, especially when you couldn’t help, and Alexander always knew this,” Wren said, looking over at Alexander.

“You bitch, stop acting!” Ophelia shouted again.

Alexander quickly grabbed her arm.

Ophelia staggered back, glaring at him. “She framed me, Alexander! She planned all of this—she framed me! She’s playing you! Are you an idiot?!”

He narrowed his eyes, thinking she was just out of her mind. “Wren has no reason to harm you,” he said, moving closer to Ophelia. “But you do, and many reasons.”

“Divorce,” Ophelia closed her eyes. “Alexander, let’s divorce.”

Her wrist was grabbed again, and he said coldly, “What right do you have to ask for a divorce?”

“Then what the hell do you want?” she shouted. “You took my child, my mother’s dead, and my father is in prison! You’ve gotten enough revenge! If you’re doing this for your mother—!” Ophelia raised her right hand, slapping his strong arm.

Wren immediately stepped forward, placing a hand on his chest. “Don’t be so bitter, Alex,” she said softly to Ophelia. “I know she made mistakes. She shouldn’t have cheated, but please, she’s still my friend. I can’t watch her suffer. And don’t feel bad for me. You’ve already done so much for me, you promised to give me Harvey Corp.”

Ophelia’s eyes widened.

“Harvey Corp,” she whispered.

Wren’s smile grew even brighter, but she sighed sadly. “Oh, you’ve figured it out. Yes, Alexander transferred Harvey Group to me this morning. As a wedding gift.”

Ophelia staggered. That was her father’s company. The last thing her mother had left behind. Alexander had given it to— the woman who had ruined her life.

She felt as if her heart was being torn apart.

She couldn’t face them anymore. She screamed at them to leave.

Alexander finally left with Wren, but not before glancing at her one last time.

Ophelia was left alone, staring at her mother’s photo.

Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the wet floor, her hands gripping the stone tightly, her nails cracking.

Tears streamed down her face, her vision blurred. She whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

She felt so foolish. Before the wedding, her mother had begged her not to believe Alexander. She had tried to tell her the truth about Alexander’s family, that her mother had never seduced his father. But Ophelia had been too deeply in love—too blind—to listen.

She had confessed to him, admitting the rumors that had plagued her family for years—how her mother had been labeled as the one who destroyed the family, the mistress who allegedly ruined his parents' marriage.

She had thought he would hesitate, question, doubt her. But Alexander had just smiled and told her,

“I don’t care about the past,” he had gently cupped her face, and she had melted under his touch. “You are my future, Ophelia. Everything else doesn’t matter.”

She had believed he truly trusted her and chose her over everything.

Her mother had still been burning with anger, telling her, “Ophelia, men lie most when they want something. Don’t believe him.”

But Ophelia had just smiled, her heart filled with love, hope, and certainty. Alexander was different from the other men. He wasn’t like anyone else.

She had held his hand tightly, walked proudly down the aisle, convinced that nothing in the world could separate them.

She had ignored the truth. And now… she was paying the price.

“If I could go back…” she sobbed, speaking to her deceased mother. “Mom, I’d stay away from him. I swear…”

She pressed her forehead against the cold stone, her tears mixing with the falling rain. “…I’ll never forgive him.”

She immediately jumped into the car and headed for Alexander’s office!