Yvonne Heath was dead. Her life had been one of hardship, and in the end, she was pushed from a second-story window, blood pooling between her legs. She was still clutching an ultrasound photo that read, “12 weeks gestation.” Before she died, she said to me, “I’m sorry. I’m just so tired. I can’t go on.” “From now on, you live for me.” So I took her place. From now on, I am Yvonne Heath. 1 I awoke in a hospital. Every cell in my body screamed in pain. An IV was taped to the back of my hand, cold liquid dripping slowly into my veins. The man sitting by the bed closed his laptop and looked at me, his expression cold. “You’re awake.” I stared at him, saying nothing. “The baby’s gone.” “It’s for the best. A vicious woman like you doesn’t deserve to be the mother of my child.” “Now that our last connection is severed, we’ll get a divorce as soon as you’re discharged.” “Why aren’t you saying anything?” He frowned, his glare sharpening. “Don’t think you can just stonewall me. Without the baby, what other tricks do you have left?” His every word was nauseating. I fought down the bile rising in my throat and looked away. But he wouldn’t allow it, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. “Yvonne, speak!” We were close, so close I could feel the heat of his breath. His name was Jasper Cain. He was the man Yvonne had loved for twenty years. If she were here now, she would be feeling a pain like a knife to the heart. Her whole life had been one long misunderstanding. She had a voice, but no matter how many times she explained, no one ever believed her. As she said, she was tired. Death was a release. But I am not Yvonne. I don’t feel pain when I’m misunderstood. I don’t swallow injustice in silence. There was a vase of flowers on the nightstand. I grabbed it and threw it at his head. It didn’t hurt him, but it caught him off guard, forcing him to stumble back. I ripped the IV from my hand, seized the metal stool beside the bed, and swung it at him with all my might. The rebuke on his lips died before it was born. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious. I gasped for breath, my hand dropping to my side. Blood dripped from my bruised knuckles onto the floor, like crimson blossoms. Yvonne, if you’re watching, watch closely. See how I live. 2 Jasper’s injuries weren’t serious. He was just knocked out and stayed in the hospital for two days. After that, apart from the nurses and doctors on their rounds, my room was silent. I wasn’t lonely. I was focused on recovering, doing light exercises every day. I was going to live a long, long life. On the day I was discharged, I took a taxi home. The moment I stepped through the door, the lively atmosphere in the living room froze. I surveyed the newly decorated house. Pink balloons and ribbons were everywhere. In the center of the room, on a large table, sat a massive two-tiered cake. The woman at the heart of the celebration wore a soft white dress, her long hair flowing around her like a halo. It was her. The one who had pushed Yvonne down the stairs with a smile on her face, not a trace of malice in her eyes. Her name was Celia Rowe, Jasper’s one true love, the one he could never forget. On countless nights, as he’d pinned Yvonne beneath him, it was Celia’s name he’d whispered. To be fair, they were a perfect match. A match made in hell. No one in the large living room spoke. I smiled as if nothing was wrong and walked toward them. “What a party. Why wasn’t I invited?” Jasper instinctively moved to shield Celia, as if I were some kind of monster. “Yvonne, I suggest you behave—” He didn’t finish his sentence. I slapped him across the face. My palm stung. But I knew his cheek stung just as much, and that was all that mattered. “Do you really think you’re some kind of brooding CEO from a novel? Why do you talk so much?” I pushed him aside impatiently and smiled sweetly at Celia. Celia’s face was pale. She clutched at her dress, looking at me with wide, innocent eyes. “Miss Rowe, don’t look so frightened. You should know, until today, I’ve never laid a hand on you.” “Yvonne, how dare you say that?” Jasper interjected. “What about Celia’s car accident? Wasn’t that you? And the time she hurt her fingers…” I slapped him again, this time with my other hand, and deftly blocked his retaliatory shove. My daily hospital workouts were paying off. Celia put on a fragile, terrified act. “Miss Heath, please don’t misunderstand. Jasper is just worried about me…” “Oh, I don’t misunderstand at all. He’s just taking his anger out on me. That’s fine.” My gaze slid back to Jasper. His face was a mask of disbelief. In his mind, Yvonne was silent, invisible, submissive. She was never supposed to be this aggressive. I turned back to Celia. Her eyes flickered with alarm, and she took an unconscious step back. But I couldn’t let her get away. That long, silky hair… it would be a shame not to pull some of it out. I reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair. As she shrieked, I yanked her head down and shoved her face into the cake. Happy birthday, Miss Rowe! 3 The living room descended into chaos. Screams and curses filled the air. The maids rushed forward to rescue Celia. Jasper aimed a kick at my stomach. He was smart. He knew this body was still weak from the miscarriage, that a blow like that would be devastating. But I wasn’t about to let that happen. I used Celia as a shield. As Celia let out another scream, Jasper roared, “Yvonne, are you insane? Do you want me to have you committed?” He had the power to do it. The heir to the mighty Cain fortune could make an orphan girl disappear into a mental institution without a trace. He could have me killed, and no one would ever know. I picked up the cake knife and pressed it to Celia’s throat. Such a slender, pale neck. If I broke the skin, would the blood flow as freely as it had when Yvonne fell? With her life in my hands, Celia fell silent. Jasper was furious, but he had no choice but to try and reason with me. “Don’t be rash,” he urged. But I wasn’t being rash at all. In fact, I was quite enjoying observing the expressions on everyone’s faces. “Jasper, didn’t you want to divorce me?” I asked with a smile. He choked for a second, then a look of “I knew it” crossed his face. “If you don’t want a divorce, we can talk. But don’t you dare do anything stupid. If you so much as touch a hair on her head, I promise, you will regret it.” Threats. Anyone can make threats. “But I’ve already touched quite a few hairs on her head,” I said, looking innocently at the strands of hair caught between my fingers. A small patch of her scalp was now bare. For someone so vain, that had to be torture. If they had just spoken to me nicely, I could have been reasonable. But I am not Yvonne. I do not respond well to threats. So, I pressed the knife harder against her neck. 4 Celia shrieked, clutching at her bleeding neck. “Jasper, save me! She’s crazy!” But what could he do? I had the hostage. He could only glare at me, his eyes darting anxiously to the wound on Celia’s neck. “Yvonne, whatever you want, we can discuss it. Do you really want to go to jail for assault?” The dull blade scraped against her skin. It was more painful that way. “Aren’t you the ones who drove me to this?” I laughed softly. “I’m not afraid of jail. But the moment I’m arrested, the internet will be flooded with stories about how the head of the Cain Corporation abused his wife, cheated with his mistress, and caused her to miscarry. I wonder how that will affect your company’s stock prices.” “That’s nonsense!” he snarled. “You fell down the stairs yourself!” “Did I?” I looked down at Celia. “Miss Rowe, did I really fall by myself?” I pressed the knife a little deeper. “I’m sorry!” she wailed, a mess of tears and snot. “I pushed you! I was jealous! Please forgive me!” Jasper’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Celia, is that true?” “Jasper, please don’t hate me!” she sobbed. “I don’t know what came over me! By the time I realized what I was doing, it was too late! I was just a little jealous… I’m so sorry…” I remembered Yvonne gently stroking her belly, telling me she would love this child with all her heart. I had been callous then, telling her that Jasper didn’t want it, that a child unwanted by its father shouldn’t be born. But Yvonne had been firm. “This is my child. It has nothing to do with Jasper. When we divorce, I’ll take the baby far away.” Then she had asked me, cautiously, “You don’t hate children, do you?” Thinking of this, I suddenly felt tired. The child was gone. My womb was empty. There was no trace that a life had ever been there. I released Celia, letting her slump to the floor. The maids swarmed around her, calling for an ambulance, grabbing a first-aid kit. I stood there, covered in blood, and looked at Jasper. “Didn’t you want a divorce?” I walked over to him and patted his cheek with my blood-stained hand. “Have your lawyer draw up the papers. Everything that’s mine, I want every last cent.” His eyelashes fluttered. He looked up at me, his dark eyes filled with a complex emotion. He ignored my talk of divorce. “Have I… misunderstood a lot of things?” “Misunderstood?” I laughed. “A misunderstanding is when you make an incorrect judgment based on incomplete or inaccurate information. But Yvonne practically tore her heart out and showed it to you. This isn't a misunderstanding, Jasper. This is you being stupid. Blind.” “And you’ve been blind for a very, very long time.”
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