Chapter 1

Tags: Refusing the wedding, Arson, Heartbreak and departure, The groveling ex-husband.

After five years of legal marriage, on the ninety-ninth time I asked my husband for a wedding, he finally agreed.

That very night, a fire broke out. The thick smoke nearly blinded me, multiple organs were damaged, and our daughter suffered severe burns, falling into a deep coma.

My husband, Alexander Vance, rushed us to the hospital in absolute agony and sent the arsonist straight to prison.

When I woke up, frantic about my daughter's condition, I accidentally overheard a conversation between the doctor and Alexander in the next room.

"If we treat Mrs. Vance and your daughter right now, they still have a chance. Any later, and Mrs. Vance will be blind for life, and your daughter will probably die. That is your own flesh and blood. You don't need to take such a huge risk just to give Mia a wedding."

"My daughter was never likable anyway. We can always have another child. If Chelsea goes blind, she won't have to see the wedding. It saves us a lot of trouble."

"Mia saved my life once. I just want to fulfill her dying wish so her kid won't be called a bastard. If our daughter dies and Chelsea goes blind, Chelsea will have the time and energy to raise Mia's son."

It turned out that the ceremony I had begged for all these years was something another woman could have with the snap of her fingers.

All this time, the happy little home I thought I built was nothing more than a dark, damp cage.

If that was the case, I would simply walk away.

"Say no more. Schedule the kidney transplant as soon as possible. Mia can't wait that long. I don't want to watch her suffer through the pain anymore. Increase the anesthesia dosage. Don't let Chelsea wake up in the middle and find out."

The doctor hesitated for a moment before cautiously speaking up. "We could still wait for another kidney donor. What if there's a way where everyone survives?"

"Mia can't wait any longer. I can't bear watching her go through dialysis all the time. A girl who cares so much about her looks has lost all her hair."

"The surgical scar will be seen sooner or later. And if your daughter really dies, how are you going to explain this to Mrs. Vance? She loves children so much..."

"Then burn that patch of skin with fire. She'll think it was left behind from the blaze. As for our daughter, I'll just tell her medical technology has its limits, that the kid just wasn't meant to be with us. I'll adopt Mia's son to distract her."

I pinched my thigh as hard as I could so my tears wouldn't blur my already failing vision. With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and started recording.

The doctor frowned slightly, his tone laced with pity. "Please reconsider, Mr. Vance. Mrs. Vance is already going blind; her life will be full of hardships. If the child dies, and she loses a kidney, not only will it be difficult for her to ever get pregnant again, but a simple infection could kill her."

Alexander let out a sigh, sounding utterly resigned. "I'll hire the best medical team in the world to keep her alive for the rest of her days. We can always have more kids in the future. I can't just stand by and watch Mia die without fulfilling her final wish."

"She saved my life back then. I owe her. Whatever she and her son want, I have to give it to them. Chelsea loves me so much. She will definitely support my decision."

The doctor shook his head with regret. Before he walked away, I only heard him mutter, "As long as you don't regret this. Let's hope Mrs. Vance's love isn't completely drained dry."

On the other side of the door, Alexander pulled out his phone and made a call, his voice cold and steady. "Give that nanny who started the fire some extra money. Once she gets out of prison, move her to another city, out of the country. I don't want a single whisper reaching Chelsea's ears."

My body collapsed against the inside of the hospital room door. Even the intense physical agony couldn't distract me from the tearing pain in my chest as my tears broke like an open dam.

The man who had shared my bed for years—whether blurred by my tears or ruined by the smoke—felt completely foreign to me now.

Hearing the footsteps outside getting closer, I stumbled to my feet. I hid my phone, ignored the blood seeping from my torn scars, and crawled back onto the bed to lie down.

The thought of my daughter, burned all over, lying in some unknown room between life and death, made my chest throb with unbearable agony.

She was such a delicate, fragile little girl who was terrified of pain. How was she supposed to face a scarred and broken body all by herself?

I clutched my chest, holding back the nausea rising in my throat, but I couldn't stop my tears from soaking into the bedsheets.

So, that fire was orchestrated by the husband I had been so proud of.

My daughter and I were merely sacrifices laid out on the altar to pave the way for his beloved woman.

Mia's dying wish was the most important thing in the world to him, while the lives of his wife and child were entirely worthless.

The seven years of our marriage were nothing more than a cruel joke.