After my husband made me marry another man，he regretted it

"Hahaha... Ryan , is this drug really as powerful as you say? Can it make someone lose their mind and be completely at the mercy of others?" "Of course, Miss Lila , this is the latest stuff I got from overseas through several connections. It's guaranteed to be colorless and odorless, and no one will notice it if mixed into alcohol. Just let Clara take this tonight, and have a man deliver it to her room, and I guarantee she'll be in heaven. She won't remember a thing tomorrow morning!" Hearing her name mentioned in such a vile way struck Clara like a thunderbolt, her blood seemingly freezing instantly. She instinctively held her breath, as if drawn by an invisible thread, and moved a few steps closer to the half-open door. Through the crack in the door, she could clearly see the scene inside the private room— Liam was lounging lazily on the velvet sofa in the center, his long legs crossed, his posture relaxed. He was holding a small bottle of clear liquid in his hand , turning it around casually, his brows slightly furrowed, as if he were thinking about something, but his eyes were a bottomless pool, revealing no emotion. "Wow, Ryan , I didn't expect you to have such connections and influence. You did a great job!" Lila, swaying gracefully in her high heels, walked over to Liam and sat down next to him. She snatched the bag from his hand, examined it closely, and wore a mischievous, excited smile on her face. Clara takes this drug today , my brother can ‘coincidentally’ catch her in bed with him at the hotel tomorrow morning. With solid evidence, the divorce will be inevitable! Then it will be Clara who cheated on my brother , and for the sake of the Bennett family’s reputation, we will definitely get those shares!” Lila ’s voice was full of calculation and smugness. She paused, as if remembering something, and her tone became indignant: "Honestly, if it weren't for that old bastard Clara 's father forcing my brother to marry Clara with the investment and shares , Vanessa wouldn't have left for abroad heartbroken, and my brother wouldn't have broken up with Vanessa! It's all Clara's and her father's fault!" As she spoke, Lila turned to look at Liam , who was still leaning back on the sofa, a cigarette between his fingers , silent. She frowned, her tone tinged with a hint of probing and dissatisfaction: "Brother, what's wrong? You haven't said much since earlier. You didn't soften your heart at this crucial moment, did you? You didn't... really fall in love with that stupid woman Clara in these past three years, did you? Don't forget, Vanessa is coming back tomorrow!" "Fall in love?" Liam finally spoke, his voice low and cold, carrying a hint of mockery. He glanced casually at the potion in Lila's hand , as if it were nothing more than an insignificant item, his tone chillingly indifferent. "It's just a tool to help our family return to the top, a fairly handy stepping stone. How could I possibly fall in love with it?" He flicked his cigarette ash and continued in his usual, weather-speaking tone, "I'm just thinking about what excuse I can use to get her to take this medicine willingly and without any suspicion. After all, she seems to have become a little 'smarter' lately." He spoke the last few words very softly, yet with a cruel, playful edge. His tone remained nonchalant, yet every word he uttered was like a red-hot blade, relentlessly piercing Clara 's heart, shattering all her love, devotion, and faith of the past three years. She never imagined that the man who had just been whispering sweet nothings to her in the lounge, making her believe she was deeply loved, could turn around and calmly plot with someone else how to use the most despicable means to get her into someone else's bed, just to seize her family's property and make room for his beloved. She met Liam on campus. He was a high achiever, and she was a recognized talent. Their grades were always neck and neck, making them the focus of attention throughout the school. In addition, their families had a close working relationship with their respective companies. Gradually, Clara fell hopelessly in love with this dazzling man. But by then , Liam already had the gentle and lovely Vanessa by his side . She buried this budding love deep in her heart, never revealing it, only silently watching and sincerely wishing them well. Three years ago, Vanessa suddenly left the country without warning. Shortly afterward, the Foster family faced bankruptcy due to a major investment mistake. They sought help from the then-powerful Bennett family . Clara 's father had long seen through his daughter's feelings, and his only request was that Liam marry Clara . She wasn't oblivious to whether this marriage, which began as a transaction, should have started, nor was she unaware of the complexity and restraint in Liam 's eyes when he proposed. It's just that she loved him, loved him too much, loved him to the point of believing that sincerity could move mountains, loved him so much that she couldn't bear to let go, naively believing that three years of tender companionship could melt the ice in his heart. Besides, in the three years of their marriage, he had been incredibly good to her, attending to every little detail with tenderness and consideration. To outsiders, they were the epitome of a perfect couple. She repeatedly told herself that he loved her, but his personality made him unable to express his passionate feelings. She thought he had gradually fallen in love with her during the three years they spent together, but only today did this bloody truth completely wake her up—all his kindness and tenderness towards her was only because he needed the Bennett family 's help, and needed her as a "tool" to help his Foster family make a comeback! Now, the Foster family has not only emerged from its predicament but is even more powerful than before. She, having lost her usefulness, is now ready to be eliminated to make way for his beloved Vanessa . They even intend to exploit her "stain" to seize the Bennett family 's shares! The clenched hands, gripped so tightly, had nails that dug deep into the soft palms, oozing tiny beads of bright red blood that stood out starkly against the pale skin. But how could the sharp pain of the nails digging into the palm compare to even a fraction of the feeling in my heart that was being torn apart and crushed? She didn't want to hear any more. She was afraid that if she listened for even a second longer, she would lose control and rush in, doing something irreversible. Clara forced back the tears that threatened to spill, biting her lower lip hard until a faint metallic taste filled her mouth. She straightened her back, like a defeated soldier unwilling to abandon her last shred of dignity, turned, and staggered into the nearest restroom. She locked the door, shutting out everything outside. Leaning against the cold door, her body trembled uncontrollably. Finally, the tears she had suppressed for so long burst forth like a flood, blurring her delicate makeup and washing away the last trace of fantasy and longing she had for Liam . Since he had never loved her, she didn't need to love him anymore. She cried for an unknown amount of time, until her tears dried up, leaving only an empty numbness. She went to the sink and rinsed her face with cold water over and over, trying to clear her mind. When she looked up, the woman in the mirror had red and swollen eyes and a pale face, but those eyes, which had once been filled with love and starlight, now burned with a flame that was almost apocalyptic and reborn. Her fingers trembled as she took out her phone, her fingertips unsteady from the cold and heartbreak, yet her movements were unusually resolute. She quickly opened the ticketing app and deftly booked a one-way ticket to a faraway country a week later. There lay the major she had wanted to pursue in university but had given up for Liam , and a completely new life. Then, she took a deep breath and dialed the number that belonged to Gregory , a number she hadn't contacted in a long time . From that moment on, she and Liam went their separate ways, each finding their own happiness. No, she only wanted to be happy; as for him… he was no longer a part of her life.

When Clara emerged from the restroom, she had composed herself, at least outwardly. She gave a cold, forced smile to her reflection in the decorative mirror at the end of the hallway, at her own red-rimmed, vulnerable face. It was time to end this absurd charade. She went back to the bathroom and took out her cosmetics from her purse. With practiced speed and precision, she carefully concealed all traces of crying around her eyes with a slightly thicker foundation, then drew a bolder, more dramatic eyeliner and applied a retro, bright red lipstick. Instantly, the mirror reflected a strikingly beautiful Clara, exuding confidence and charisma. Her overly sharp gaze and intense makeup acted like a sturdy mask, sealing away all her heartbreak and vulnerability, leaving no room for observation. When she stepped back into the dazzling banquet hall, Liam and Lila were indeed already waiting for her in the center of the hall, seemingly whispering something to each other. "Honey, where have you been? You haven't been back for so long, and you didn't answer my calls. I was so worried about you!" The moment Liam saw her, he strode over to her, his tone laced with just the right amount of anxiety and concern. However, when he noticed the heavy makeup on Clara's face, so different from her usual fresh and elegant style, he was momentarily taken aback, a fleeting, almost imperceptible look of surprise crossing his eyes, quickly replaced by worry. He reached out naturally, wanting to take her hand affectionately, just as he had for the past three years, to feel her warmth. "It's nothing, I just took a while to touch up my makeup, and my phone was on silent so I didn't hear it." Clara's voice was calm and even, as if she were stating something unrelated to herself. Almost the instant his fingertips touched the skin on the back of her hand, she subtly yet resolutely pulled her hand out of his palm, letting it hang at her side, her fingertips slightly curled. "Really, you're alright?" Her hand suddenly felt empty, the lingering delicate touch instantly replaced by the cool air. Liam stared blankly at her empty palm for a moment, a strange feeling rising within her. She had never so clearly resisted his touch before. "Um." Clara didn't want to say anything more, not even giving him a second glance, and walked straight past him into the crowd. Her straight back and aloof posture seemed to draw an invisible chasm between them. Watching Clara's resolute retreating figure, Liam frowned deeply, a strange sense of unease creeping in. Today, Clara, from her makeup to her demeanor, and even her aloof manner, seemed different from the gentle, dependent wife he knew. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it; it was just a vague and irritating intuition. At that moment, Lila, who could no longer contain herself, held a glass of blood-red wine, a fake smile plastered on her face, and strode up to Clara, blocking her way. "Happy birthday, sister-in-law! I was wrong to disturb you and my brother earlier. This drink is my way of making amends. Please do me this favor!" Lila smiled and handed the carefully prepared glass of red wine to Clara, her eyes filled with barely concealed calculation and eager anticipation as she watched Clara's reaction intently, afraid she might refuse. Gazing at the alluring red liquid shimmering under the light, Clara felt as if an ice pick had pierced her heart, a chill instantly spreading to every limb. She knew this drink was an invitation to hell. She remained silent for a long time, so long that the smile on Lila's face was almost impossible to maintain, and the atmosphere around her seemed to freeze. Finally, she slowly reached out and accepted the heavy glass, laden with malice and betrayal. She didn't look at Lila, but instead, holding the glass of red wine, she walked back to Liam step by step. She raised her eyes and gazed deeply, almost greedily, at the handsome face she had loved for so many years, trying to find even the slightest hesitation, reluctance, or struggle in his deep eyes. “Liam,” she called him by his full name for the first time in public, her voice soft but clear, “this drink… do you really want me to drink it?” Her gaze, like the most precise searchlight, locked onto his eyes, not missing a single subtle change. She was giving him one last chance, and also giving her own dead love a final farewell. Liam merely frowned slightly, seemingly puzzled by her abrupt question and form of address. He then raised the wine glass he had somehow acquired, his gentle and perfect demeanor returning, and spoke in a relaxed and natural tone: "Honey, what's wrong with you today? You're acting so strange. Of course we should drink! Today is your special day, happy birthday! I'll drink with you." As he spoke, he casually downed the champagne in his glass, then looked at her with a smile, waiting for her next move. Watching him drink his "clean" glass of wine without hesitation, seeing the flawless, almost genuine tenderness in his eyes, Clara's heart ached to the extreme, leaving only a deathly numbness. The last glimmer of hope was completely extinguished. Slowly, she brought the wine glass, which carried the weight of conspiracy, to her lips. The cool rim of the glass touched her warm lips, carrying a deadly allure. However, just as everyone thought she was about to drink it, the next second...

Her hand suddenly slipped as if all its strength had been released— "Crack!" The wine glass was slammed onto the polished marble floor, shattering instantly. The crimson wine splattered like blood, staining her starry blue dress and eliciting gasps from the surrounding guests. "Oh dear! Sister-in-law, how could you be so careless?!" Seeing her plan fall apart, Lila's fake smile vanished instantly, replaced by undisguised exasperation and anger, her voice rising several decibels. Liam didn't speak, but his brows furrowed even more. He glanced at the mess of broken glass on the ground, then immediately stepped forward, took Clara's hand without a word, and carefully checked her fair fingers and wrists for any cuts from the flying glass shards. His tone was reproachful yet concerned: "How could you be so careless? Are you hurt anywhere?" Seeing the genuine tension he exuded, Clara simply pursed her bright red lips and silently shook her head. If she hadn't overheard those heart-wrenching words in the private room, if she hadn't known what kind of sordid things were in that drink, she would have been completely captivated by this false tenderness, utterly moved. Unfortunately, there are no "what ifs." All of this was just another act, a performance born from his superb acting skills. His touch only made her feel nauseous. After confirming that Clara was not injured, Liam called over the hotel staff who were waiting nearby to quickly clean up the broken pieces and wine stains on the ground. The banquet continued, the music remained melodious, but the undercurrents grew increasingly turbulent. Lila clearly had no intention of letting Clara off the hook; like a relentless viper, she repeatedly sought opportunities, both overt and covert, to force Clara to eat or drink the packet of "miracle drug." She changed glass after glass of wine, brought out various snacks, trying to find an opening in Clara's defenses. However, each time, Clara deftly defused the situation in various seemingly unintentional but actually ingenious ways—either by being interrupted by others, by "accidentally" spilling the food, or by using the excuse of talking to an elder she hadn't seen in a long time. Clara always maintained that detached calmness, as if watching a clumsy farce that had nothing to do with her. Finally, after repeated failures, Lila completely lost her patience, and her anger clouded her judgment. In a relatively crowded corner, while Clara was chatting with an old friend with her back to her, she suddenly became emboldened and forcefully shoved Clara from behind into a long table on the side of the banquet hall, where a row of crystal goblets were stacked into a champagne tower! "Splash—!!!" A deafening roar suddenly erupted! The towering champagne tower collapsed with a crash, and dozens, even hundreds, of exquisite stemmed glasses shattered instantly, with glittering shards of glass flying everywhere like exploding ice flowers! Wine, fruit, and desserts were splashed all over the place! Clara was caught completely off guard. The enormous impact made it impossible for her to maintain her balance. She slipped and fell heavily to the ground amidst the horrified screams of the surrounding crowd. Her elbows and knees inevitably struck the cold, hard ground, which was covered with shards of glass! "ah--!" "Oh my god! What's going on?" "Quick! Go check it out!" This sudden turn of events plunged the entire banquet hall into chaos and silence. Everyone's attention was drawn to it, including Liam, who had been standing not far away, talking to someone. When he saw Clara lying among the shards of glass, looking incredibly disheveled and vulnerable, his expression changed drastically. Almost instinctively, he hurriedly pushed through the stunned crowd, rushed forward, bent down, and reached out to help Clara up from the mess and check her injuries. "Clara!" "Honey! How are you? Are you alright? How could you be so careless?" His voice was filled with genuine shock, anger, and urgency, and his hand had already touched Clara's arm. But just then, Lila's sharp, panicked voice, like a razor-sharp blade, pierced through the chaos and rang in: "Brother! Something terrible has happened! I just got a call from Vanessa! Vanessa is being bullied and surrounded at the airport. It seems like the situation is very serious. She keeps crying and calling your name..." "What did you say?!" Upon hearing the name "Vanessa" and the news of being "bullied," Liam's body stiffened abruptly! His expression froze for a moment, replaced by an unprecedented tension and worry. Almost reflexively, he instantly released his grip on Clara's arm and stood up abruptly! Without any hesitation, without even a "wait for me to come back" or any arrangements for the situation, Liam seemed to have been pressed the only start button. Without hesitation, he pushed through the crowd and ran like an arrow towards the exit of the banquet hall, disappearing from everyone's sight in an instant. Clara, who was suddenly released, was trying to stand up with his help, but the sudden loss of support left her completely without support. "Thump—" Amidst gasps and gasps of alarm around her, she was thrown back into that cold, damp, and chaotic place, littered with sharp shards of glass, once again, more heavily and thoroughly. This time, the pain of her body hitting the ground was clearly felt, but even clearer was the sound of her heart being utterly crushed into dust. She lay on the cold ground, listening to the cacophony of sympathy and gossip around her, but felt only utter silence in the world. She slowly closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, the last glimmer of light in them had completely vanished, leaving only boundless, cold darkness and resolute despair.

"hiss……" Sharp shards of glass once again pierced deep into the skin of her exposed palms and forearms, bringing waves of excruciating pain. Clara, who had just tried to prop herself up, couldn't help but gasp, and a fine layer of cold sweat instantly beaded on her forehead. This physical pain seemed so insignificant compared to the desolate wasteland in her heart that had already been crushed. The surrounding crowd, still reeling from the shock of the collapsed champagne tower, was stunned once more by Liam's resolute figure as he walked away without a backward glance towards another woman. After a brief silence, whispers rose like a tide. "Vanessa? Who is Vanessa?" A young guest who was not very familiar with the situation finally couldn't contain his curiosity and whispered the question to the person next to him. "Eh? You didn't know?" A stylishly dressed lady next to him immediately lowered her voice, her tone filled with the excitement of sharing a secret, "That Vanessa, I heard, is the one Liam has held dear for many years, his white moonlight. If it weren't for that crisis with the Foster family..." "Ah? Then...then Mrs. Foster, she..." The person who asked the question covered his mouth in surprise, looking at Clara, who was still sitting in the mess, with complicated eyes. "Who in this circle doesn't know about this?" Another voice interjected with a hint of disdain. "Back then, it was said that Clara took advantage of the Foster family's downfall, and her father forced Liam to marry her with shares, causing that Miss Vanessa to leave home heartbroken. Now look at her, the Foster family has made a comeback, even more powerful than before, and Vanessa has just returned. I think this Mrs. Foster... humph, looking at her current pathetic state, how can she possibly manage?" "Ah~ So that's how it is!" Several exclamations of sudden realization rang out around them, and the gazes directed at Clara instantly changed from initial sympathy to disdain, scrutiny, and even a hint of schadenfreude. "I always thought Mrs. Foster was a very nice person, gentle and generous. I never imagined... she would use such methods to get ahead... tsk tsk tsk..." "Shh! Keep your voice down, after all, she's still officially Mrs. Foster." "So what? Didn't you see how fast Liam ran for Vanessa? She, the legitimate wife, fell like that, and he was no match for her with just a phone call..." ... These comments, some high, some low, were like countless fine needles, relentlessly piercing Clara's eardrums and stripping away her last shred of ridiculous dignity. As she listened to the distorted facts and watched the direction where Liam's figure disappeared, a huge, absurd sense of ridiculousness welled up from the bottom of her heart, almost overwhelming her. It turns out that the so-called love she had carefully cherished and devoted herself to for the past three years was nothing but a complete joke, a one-woman show in which she was immersed. It turns out that in the eyes of everyone in the circle, she was the despicable one who destroyed other people's relationship and took advantage of their misfortune. Only she herself was using "love" as a fig leaf to deceive herself and maintain the precarious illusion of her marriage. The surrounding guests whispered among themselves, looking at her with indifference or mockery, but not a single person stepped forward to help her up. She clearly realized that this was a banquet hosted by the Foster family, and most of those present were friends and business partners of the Foster family, not her Bennett family. The coldness of human nature was on full display at this moment. Clara gritted her teeth, ignoring the stinging pain in her palms and knees. Using her uninjured arm to support herself on the cold, damp ground, she struggled to her feet, relying solely on her own strength, amidst the shards of glass and spilled liquor. The hem of her starry blue dress was stained and clung tightly to her body, highlighting her disheveled state and loneliness. Ultimately, the grand banquet that was originally intended to celebrate her birth was abruptly ended due to her injury as the leading lady and this sudden farce. It was late at night when Clara, enduring the pain all over her body, drove alone to the nearest central hospital. The emergency room was brightly lit but deserted, with only a few patients in the corridor, making it seem exceptionally empty and quiet. She registered and had the deeper glass cuts on her hands and arms treated: cleaning, disinfection, medication, and bandaging. Throughout the process, she bit her lower lip tightly, not uttering a single cry of pain, as if the injuries weren't her own. When the nurse wrapped her right hand and forearm in thick gauze like a rice dumpling, she just watched expressionlessly, her eyes vacant. However, fate always seems to play cruel jokes. Of all the hospitals in Beijing, she happened to be here, at this most vulnerable moment, when she encountered Liam, who had rushed over, and Vanessa, whom he was carefully protecting by his side. As Vanessa helped Liam, whose lip was bruised, shirt collar was disheveled, and who had clearly been in a fight, into the emergency room, Clara, having just finished bandaging her wound, came out of the examination room. The three of them met unexpectedly in the corridor filled with the smell of disinfectant. "Clara? What are you doing here?"

When Liam saw her, he stopped abruptly, a look of obvious surprise flashing across his face. Then, almost instinctively, he quickly pulled Vanessa behind him, standing between her and Clara in a protective posture, as if Clara were some kind of dangerous monster. Seeing his subconscious, defensive movement, Clara felt as if an invisible hand had clenched her heart, followed by an overwhelming sense of bitterness and self-mockery. She forced a pale, bitter smile and slowly raised her hand, which was wrapped in layers of gauze and looked unusually heavy. "Thanks to your sister Lila, she gave me such a 'gift' at my birthday party." Her voice was eerily calm, devoid of anger or resentment, only as still as stagnant water. Looking at Clara's tightly bandaged hand, Liam's brows furrowed, a complex emotion flashing across his eyes, as if he were momentarily stunned. He opened his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing, perhaps wanting to ask "How serious is it?" or perhaps wanting to explain something, but all his unspoken words were interrupted by a soft, weak voice beside him. “Clara,” Vanessa peeked out from behind Liam, her face showing just the right amount of worry and a hint of disapproval. Her voice was gentle, yet every word pierced the heart, “This is where you went wrong. Lila is young and doesn't understand things. She was probably just playing around and lost her sense of propriety. As her sister-in-law, you should be more magnanimous and more tolerant of her. How could you hold a grudge against her? And end up like this…” Listening to Vanessa's condescending and distorted words, Clara felt a surge of absurdity. She was only a year older than Lila! Since Lila was always a "child" in their eyes who needed to be tolerated, what right did they have to demand that Clara be infinitely tolerant according to adult standards? This double standard was truly disgusting. “Miss Vanessa,” Clara said coldly, her gaze sweeping across Vanessa’s pitiful face like an icy blade, finally settling on Liam’s hand that was still tightly holding Vanessa’s. Her tone was utterly indifferent, “What does what’s between Lila and me have to do with you, an outsider?” She had no interest in watching the couple's display of deep affection any longer. After saying that, she turned and walked around them, wanting to leave this suffocating place. However, just as she brushed past them, her uninjured left wrist, hanging by her side, was suddenly gripped tightly by Liam! He squeezed so hard that her wrist bones ached. "Clara!" Liam's face was grim, her voice icy and piercing, filled with barely suppressed anger, as if she were the unreasonable and irrational one. "What kind of attitude is this? Apologize to Vanessa immediately!" Clara was forced to stop, slowly raising her eyes to meet Liam's now icy, frosty gaze. Once, even the slightest tenderness in those eyes could have made her happy all day. But now, seeing the clear anger and protectiveness towards another woman within them, her heart remained utterly still, as calm as a deep well. It turns out that when a heart is broken and completely dead, it is truly possible to stop loving and stop feeling pain. "Why should I apologize?" she asked, enunciating each word clearly, her voice low but carrying an undeniable firmness. “What did Vanessa say wrong?” Seeing her so “stubborn,” Liam’s anger intensified. He tightened his grip on her wrist, his eyes blazing with fury. “Lila is just a child, naturally lively. Why are you arguing with her? It makes you look petty! Besides, what was that tone you used? Vanessa just got back to the country and was harassed at the airport. She was frightened and hasn’t fully recovered. Now you’ve spoken to her so coldly. How upset she must be! You should apologize to her, both morally and logically!” It turns out that Vanessa was harassed at the airport. That's why he was so anxious and even went so far as to fight back, getting injured himself in the process, all to protect her. Clara turned her head and looked at Vanessa, whose eyes were already red and about to cry, as if she had suffered a great injustice. She smiled coldly to herself, a smile that was desolate and sorrowful. Look at the stark contrast. His beloved was only harassed, and he was on high alert, extremely nervous, wishing he could take her place; while his wife, through his schemes, was almost sent to another man's bed, was pushed down in public at her birthday party, covered in bruises, and had to treat her wounds alone, only to be questioned by him about why she didn't apologize to the person who pushed her, or to his beloved! It turns out that love and not love can be so vastly different, so cruelly and bluntly defined. Without any further hesitation, Clara clenched her fist tightly and, with all her might, swung her hand away from Liam's grasp, breaking free from his hold! The movement was so forceful that it aggravated the wound on her right hand, and blood was faintly seeping through the gauze, but she didn't care at all. “Liam,” she looked at him with an unprecedented distance and indifference, as if she were looking at a stranger, “you should take care of yourself first and go see the injuries you got while trying to be a hero and save a damsel in distress before you talk to anyone else.” As soon as she finished speaking, she didn't look at them again. She straightened her back, which seemed to bear a thousand pounds of weight, and resolutely turned around. Step by step, she walked firmly into the night outside the hospital gate, leaving behind the couple behind her and all the unbearable past.

Watching Clara's straight back and resolute figure disappear around the corner of the hospital corridor, Liam frowned deeply, a lingering unease and... a strange, unfamiliar feeling settling in his heart. This was the first time Clara had so clearly and thoroughly rebelled against him; there were no tears, no questions, only a cold, aloof indifference. This feeling of being out of control made him extremely displeased. “Liam,” Vanessa gently took his arm again, tilting her head back. Her carefully drawn eyes were now red and brimming with tears that threatened to fall. Her voice was choked with just the right amount of sob and unease. “I…did I say something wrong? Did I upset Clara and make you two argue…” Liam withdrew his gaze and looked down at the pitiful Vanessa beside him. The strange feeling he had felt for Clara was instantly replaced by pity. He softened his tone, reached out and gently patted the back of her hand, and comforted her, "It's okay, don't think too much about it. She's just acting strangely today, like she's swallowed a bomb, all prickly. It has nothing to do with you." After saying that, he turned and walked into the emergency room with Vanessa's help, completely forgetting the disheveled figure of him leaving alone. Stepping out of the hospital, the cold night wind, carrying the chill of early autumn, hit Clara involuntarily. She shivered and instinctively pulled her thin, wrinkled dress, already soaked with alcohol, tighter around herself. The streets were empty, the streetlights dim, casting a long, lonely shadow of hers. She didn't stop, walking straight to her car parked in the corner, opening the door, and getting in. The enclosed space seemed to still hold a faint scent of the fragrance she had carefully chosen before her birthday party, but now it only felt ironic. She drove back to the luxurious villa nestled halfway up the mountain, which she had once considered her "home." Pushing open the heavy, ornate door, she was greeted only by a deathly silence and icy air. She didn't turn on the lights, but instead, using the faint moonlight filtering through the window, she slowly walked to the center of the living room, taking a deep, greedy breath, as if trying to capture even a trace of the false warmth that had once existed here. However, all she inhaled was emptiness and chill. It turns out that the warm haven she had carefully cultivated and cherished was nothing more than wishful thinking on her part, a magnificent prison. Since that's the case, then she will leave, withdraw completely, and let Liam and Vanessa's "happily ever after" be fulfilled. Exhausted, she dragged herself up the spiral staircase and into the master bedroom. Without a second glance at the room filled with three years of memories, she went straight to the bathroom, quickly washed up, changed into clean pajamas, and then, like a caged animal drained of all its strength, buried herself in the large but cold double bed. The physical pain and mental exhaustion quickly lulled her into a deep sleep. When Clara woke up the next day, it was already bright outside. She instinctively reached out and touched the spot beside her—it was cold and flat. Liam hadn't come home all night. This realization, like the last cold boulder, sank into the once tranquil lake of her heart. She picked up her phone, which was charging on the bedside table. The moment the screen unlocked, a message from an unknown number, but with highly targeted content, immediately caught her eye: [Miss Clara, so what if you're married into the Foster family? It must be tough maintaining an empty marriage, right? Liam has only ever loved me. Last night, he even neglected your birthday party and your injuries for me. Look, he's sleeping so peacefully beside me.] The accompanying photos were carefully selected and extremely insulting: one was a candid shot of Liam tightly protecting Vanessa behind him while he was fighting with someone at the airport; another was a close-up photo of the two holding hands tightly in a hospital room, with the veins on the back of their hands clearly visible; and the last photo was a profile of Liam sleeping with his eyes closed, with long, feminine hair scattered on his pillow, against a background that was clearly the warm lighting of a hotel room. Looking at these blatantly provocative photos, Clara's heart remained completely unmoved. She merely frowned, feeling a slight annoyance at this clumsy and hasty tactic. Just as she was about to raise her hand to block and delete the message and the number, the bedroom door clicked open from the outside. "Honey? Why are you awake so early? Does your hand still hurt?"

Liam's voice was slightly hoarse from just waking up, his tone so natural as if the unpleasant parting and staying out all night had never happened. As he spoke, he walked calmly to the bedside, reaching out with perfect ease, wanting to affectionately tuck the stray hairs from Clara's forehead behind her ear, just as he had done countless times before. However, just as he leaned closer, Clara was caught off guard by the ambiguous, bright red scratches on the slightly open collar of his shirt, which clearly and unexpectedly came into view! The marks were fresh and glaring, silently telling the story of his intense and passionate encounter with another woman the night before. She could force herself to ignore Vanessa's pale words and deliberately staged photos, but she couldn't turn a blind eye to the real, other woman's mark on Liam's body. Those red marks, like red-hot irons, branded the final mark of humiliation onto her lifeless heart. “Honey, I was wrong last night. I shouldn’t have said those things to you, and I shouldn’t have left you alone.” Liam seemed oblivious to her sudden stiffness and dimmed eyes, continuing in his practiced, apologetic tone, even reaching out to hold her uninjured hand. “Vanessa was harassed when she returned to the country early. She’s unfamiliar with the place, and I only said those harsh words in a moment of panic. Please don’t be angry, okay?” He observed her expression, then changed the subject, revealing his real purpose: "To express my apology and make up for last night's regret, I've invited Lila and Vanessa, along with a few close friends, tonight to find a place to celebrate your birthday separately and have a lively celebration. Also, Lila knows she went too far yesterday and wants to apologize in person for accidentally pushing you. What do you think?" As he spoke, he took Clara's uninjured left hand, placed a gentle kiss on the smooth back of her hand, and when he looked up, his gaze was impeccably sincere. However, looking into his seemingly affectionate eyes, Clara felt a chill instantly run through her body from the soles of her feet, as if she had fallen into an icy abyss, and even her blood was about to freeze. Last night, she was driving home when she realized she'd forgotten to leave the painkillers and infection preventative medication prescribed by her doctor at the emergency room pharmacy. After a moment's hesitation, she turned her car around and drove back to the hospital. Just as she was about to leave with the medicine, she heard those familiar voices again at the corner of the corridor leading to the VIP observation room. She instinctively stopped and hid in the shadows. "Brother, the plan didn't work last night, and we almost got exposed. What should we do? What about the Bennett family's shares..." This was Lila's anxious voice. "What's so difficult about that?" Vanessa replied, her voice still gentle, but her words as venomous as a snake's. "Tomorrow, find an excuse to apologize for accidentally pushing her yesterday and invite Clara out. There will be many people around, so find an opportunity to slip the drug into her drink or beverage! If it doesn't work once, surely it won't work every time?" What chilled Clara to the bone was that Liam was standing right next to them, offering no objection, not even a moment's hesitation. Silence, at that moment, was tantamount to acquiescence and indulgence. She didn't listen to any of their more vicious plans. Taking the medicine, she quietly left the hospital. That night, Liam didn't return home. In her heart, she still clung to a ridiculous illusion, thinking that he would at least feel a little guilty about yesterday's argument and her injuries, and wouldn't really be so heartless. Unexpectedly, not only did he not return home all night, but he also carried the mark of another woman on his body, and the very next morning, he so eagerly and personally set up this obvious trap for her. "I don't really want to go. My hand still hurts, and I'm not in the mood." Clara lowered her eyelashes, concealing all the emotions in her eyes, and refused in a low voice. Upon hearing her refusal, Liam's gentle expression froze instantly, a hint of impatience and malice flashing in his eyes. But it was only for a moment; he quickly donned his tolerant and considerate mask, his tone coaxing and undeniably insistent: "Be good, listen to me. I've already made plans with my friends, and they all want to celebrate for you. Don't spoil their fun, okay?" As he spoke, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on Clara's smooth forehead, as if with endless affection. Clara's hand, hidden under the covers, clenched quietly, her nails digging into her palm. She used the slight pain to keep herself absolutely alert and calm. She knew this was a trap, and there was no way to avoid it. After a moment of silence, she looked up and met Liam's deep, meaningful eyes, and nodded obediently: "Okay, I'll go. But," she paused slightly, then made a condition, "I'll choose the location for the party." Liam seemed taken aback by her request, but seeing that she finally agreed, the joy of achieving his goal made him overlook the slight impropriety, and he immediately agreed readily: "Okay, no problem! You can choose anywhere you want. Send me the address later, and I'll come pick you up directly after work tonight." Upon hearing Clara's reply, Liam's face broke into a gentle, almost perfect smile, as if he were quite pleased with her "understanding." He stood up, in high spirits, and headed to the dressing room, where he changed into a clean, crisp shirt and carefully fastened his tie. Before leaving, he turned around and reminded Clara, who was still sitting on the bed, "By the way, dress nicely tonight and put on some exquisite makeup. Your 26th birthday is special, so don't leave yourself any regrets." His tone remained gentle, as if he were truly just a considerate husband who hoped his wife would look radiant during her belated birthday celebration. However, watching him turn and walk away, his figure disappearing behind the door, Clara felt no pain in her heart, only a cold, resolute calm as the dust settled. He wanted a "perfect" farewell banquet? Fine, then she would give him a "feast" he would never forget.