Chapter 4
I didn't even have the strength to struggle before the bodyguard ruthlessly pressed me down into the ankle-deep snow.
"Mr. Sinclair said without his permission, you must kneel here and repent!"
The bodyguard's warning footsteps gradually faded away.
The merciless wind and snow at twenty below zero cut through my thin nightgown.
Before the agony from hitting the ice had even subsided, the cancer cells deep in my uterus were thoroughly enraged by the bitter cold, gnawing at my flesh like rabid animals.
Leonard's humiliating words—"pregnant with a bastard"—still echoed in my ears like a death sentence as he threw me into the storm.
I arched my back in agony, nearly digging my nails into my palms. Yet more suffocating than my trembling, broken body was the scene playing out behind that massive floor-to-ceiling window just steps away.
Flames danced warmly in the fireplace.
Claire, wrapped in a thick cashmere blanket, was nestled delicately in Leonard's arms, sipping the steaming hot chocolate he'd brought her himself.
My parents sat nearby, lovingly stroking Claire's hair with gentle smiles. My brother Arthur was at the grand piano, his slender fingers coaxing out Claire's favorite cheerful melody.
What a heartwarming scene. Perfect harmony, as if the four of them were the natural, blood-bound family.
And I was nothing more than a jealous madwoman who had tried to "murder" her sister—a vicious outsider finally cast out where I belonged.
I watched Leonard lean down to press a precious kiss to Claire's forehead, his lips curved in that tender smile that once belonged only to me.
In that moment, the last flickering ember of hope in my heart turned to ash.
So he meant it when he said "disgusting." So the love that was never real meant nothing at all.
I didn't bang on that impenetrable door again. I didn't beg in vain anymore.
I knelt quietly in the snow, letting the howling wind consume me.
That's when I felt it—a warm liquid beyond my control streaming down the inside of my thighs.
I stiffly looked down. In the warm yellow light spilling from the window, I clearly saw the pristine white snow beneath me being stained a shocking dark red.
It was mine and Leonard's child.
The little life I'd refused even painkillers to protect, enduring the cancer's relentless assault, was now bleeding out beneath me, rapidly freezing in the bitter cold.
"Baby..."
I desperately opened my mouth, but wind and snow immediately rushed down my throat. The sound that emerged was so broken even I couldn't hear it.
"I'm sorry... Mommy couldn't protect you."
"It's okay... Mommy will take you away now. We'll leave this house forever."
Having spent my last ounce of strength, I collapsed heavily into the deathly silent snow.
The storm blurred irreversibly before my eyes, yet my pathetic life played back with crystal clarity in my mind.
Age ten: My parents walked through the door holding Claire's hand. "Briley, this is your sister. From now on, you need to share everything good with her."
Age twenty: Arthur tore up my college acceptance letter. "Claire didn't get in and she's crying. How can you even think of celebrating?"
With trembling, frostbitten fingers covered in sores, I slowly pulled off the diamond ring from my ring finger.
It was the promise Leonard made at twenty-two when he knelt and slipped it onto my finger:
"Briley, I'll spend the rest of my life loving and protecting you. I won't let you suffer even the slightest hurt."
Lies. All lies.
Using my last bit of strength, I resolutely threw the ring—still warm from my body—into the bottomless snow beside me.
My arm went completely limp, crashing against the ice. Just then, my pocket pressed against my frozen thigh began to vibrate.
The cold screen light pierced through the thin fabric, stabbing my unfocused pupils.
A message from Leonard appeared coldly on the screen, attached with a photo of them by the fireplace:
[No matter how you play dead in the snow tonight, your pity act won't work. When you come to your senses, crawl back inside and grovel to Claire.]
I stared at his smiling face as he held Claire on the screen. A metallic sweetness surged uncontrollably in my throat, and I violently coughed up blood that spattered across the white snow.
If there really is a next life, I wish you both eternal suffering in hell. And I never want to meet you again.
My heartbeat grew slower and slower.
Through the ice-covered glass, I saw the piano piece inside seemed to reach its crescendo. Everyone raised their glasses, celebrating this hypocritical charade.
"How wonderful..." I forced a stiff, tragic smile and slowly closed my eyes.
The howling snow crashed down mercilessly, gradually swallowing the curled, frozen body in the pool of blood.
In the last second before my consciousness completely scattered, only the deathly wind remained in my ears, along with Leonard's impatient shout when he threw me out:
"I don't care if she dies out there!"
As you wished, Leonard.
The next morning, the blizzard that had raged all night finally ceased.
In the master bedroom on the second floor of the villa, Leonard irritably rubbed his throbbing temples and sat up with a dark expression. He'd barely slept until dawn, spending the night comforting Claire.
"Sir! Sir—!"
A nearly broken scream suddenly came from downstairs.
Leonard frowned, threw on his robe, and strode toward the hallway with obvious annoyance. "What's all the noise about this early in the morning?!"
The butler stumbled up the stairs, his face deathly pale. His entire body was shaking as he clutched a phone with ice and blood on the screen, stiffly pointing toward the front door.
"Madam... Madam is..."
"What game is Briley playing now?" Leonard sneered coldly.
But somehow, the moment he heard that name, his heart inexplicably skipped a beat, and cold sweat began seeping through his palms without warning.
He forcibly suppressed the sudden panic, grinding his teeth as he snapped: "Still not done with her tantrum after a whole night? Is she faking unconsciousness or death now? Go tell her that pity acts don't work on me!"
"It's... it's not fake..." The butler's legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the stairs, tears streaming down his face. His voice shook uncontrollably:
"Sir, please go look! Madam... she's dead!"
