Chapter 4

The hospital where my father died was owned by Ethan’s conglomerate.

Our locked door and the dead silent emergency line that night were entirely their doing.

Ethan’s reflexes were incredibly fast. He instinctively shielded Fiona.

With a brutal twist of my wrist, he disarmed me and shoved me backward.

My shoulder slammed into the concrete wall, and the blade slipped, slicing deep into my chest right below the collarbone.

The wound was so deep I could see my own bone.

In the ambulance, he leaned over me, his voice low and tight.

"Amy, your father's death is on you."

"You're the one who gave him a heart attack, and now you're losing your mind at his funeral?"

"You are not a spoiled princess anymore. You can't just act without consequences."

"Keep your head down, deliver our baby, and I will hire the best psychiatrists in the world to treat your mother."

After my father passed, my mother's mind began to unravel.

I hated my own powerlessness. I could only close my eyes, submitting to his decision to lock me away in his villa to carry the pregnancy.

Maybe once the baby was born, it would be a new beginning.

Ethan started remodeling the nursery, preparing rooms for both a boy and a girl.

I, too, began to look forward to the baby, even picking out a name.

But during the first snow of that winter, I miscarried.

Fiona had sneaked into the sanitarium to see my mother. God knows what she said to her.

My mother wandered off and got lost in the freezing cold.

Heavily pregnant, I ran out of the villa to look for her.

But the moment I stepped past the gates, a car plowed straight into me.

Through the shattered windshield, I saw the driver clearly. It was Fiona.

When I woke up in the hospital, empty and broken, Ethan dismissed my accusations with a wave of his hand.

He merely sent Fiona abroad "for a while."

Standing before my baby's empty memorial garden, everything became crystal clear.

I was the one who ignored my family to be with him.

I was the one who begged my father to build him up.

And in return, Ethan allowed his mistress to destroy my family piece by piece.

In the dead of night, while the guards slept, I set the villa on fire.

But the security systems were too advanced. The fire didn't even scratch Ethan or Fiona.

Six months later, Ethan assumed I had finally accepted my fate.

He decided to throw us a lavish yacht wedding in Iceland to "make it up to me."

I still remember that day. He coaxed me into a beautiful lace wedding dress.

Amidst the roaring cheers of the guests, he led me to the center of the deck.

But during the ring exchange, another disaster struck.

Only this time, I was the one who caused it.

I ripped my hand out of his grasp.

Before his shocked and devastated eyes, I jumped straight into the freezing, dark ocean.

A year of agonizing love and hate ended right there.

It was a classic story: a rich girl falls for a poor boy, and ends up destroying her entire family.

Lucy’s hand froze over her notepad. She couldn't speak for a long time.

"So... the legendary, hopelessly devoted Mr. Sterling was actually a monster?"

"Then how did you..."

Before she could finish, her colleague called her out of the room.

A few minutes later, she returned and unlocked my handcuffs.

"You're free to go, Mrs. Sterling."

I was stunned. I had fully prepared myself for a life sentence.

Lucy explained that Ethan, who had been in a coma for days, had finally woken up.

He claimed the stabbing was a domestic accident and had nothing to do with me.

His assistant had already filed a forged psychiatric report, claiming I suffered from severe delusional schizophrenia, making my confession legally invalid.

Just like that, he got me out on bail.

Ethan Sterling was always so meticulous.

Before I got into the car, Lucy ran out to ask the final question.

"Mrs. Sterling, how did you lose your memory? And how did you end up in California?"