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After husband forced me to apologize to his mistress, he regretted it.
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“Patsy, if you want Grandma to live, kneel down and kowtow to Stevvi a hundred times to apologize.” Cornell looked at her coldly, his eyes filled with nothing but disgust, devoid of any love for h...
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第1章
“Patsy, if you still want your grandma alive, then kneel before Stevvi a hundred times to apologize.”
Cornell stared at her with detachment. There was no longer a trace of love in his eyes for his wife—only pure contempt.
When Patsy rushed into the hospital, she was already in a mess. Hearing her husband’s sentence made her face turn even more deathly pale.
It was clearly Stevvi who hit Connee with her car. Yet now, as the old woman lay on the hospital bed covered in blood, Cornell had stopped her treatment and was forcing Patsy to apologize to the culprit.
He was like this after Stevvi, in her reckless speeding, had not only struck Connee but also chipped a few rhinestones off her manicure—something that made her cry a few pitiful tears.
Watching her husband hold that woman protectively in his arms, Patsy almost cried in rage.
Her lips trembled uncontrollably as a thousand questions burned in her chest, yet she forced herself to swallow them all down.
Instead, she pleaded in a trembling voice, “Cornell… I’ll kneel, I’ll beg for fogeys—anything you want. Just… Please, save Grandma first.”
Holding the shaken Stevvi close, Cornell glanced impatiently at his watch.
“You’re in no position to bargain. I’ll give you one more minute. If you don’t start, you can meet your beloved grandma in the morgue.”
The word morgue exploded in Patsy’s head like a bomb. In an instant, her knees buckled.
With a loud thud, the bustling hallway fell silent.
On her reddened knees, Patsy crawled toward Cornell, clutching at his trouser leg as she choked back sobs and begged him.
“Cornell, I beg you. I’ll kneel a thousand times if I must. Grandma’s old… She can’t hold on much longer. Please, save her first…”
Fat tears splashed against the leather of his shoes. For a fleeting moment, something in his chest seemed to burn.
But a second later, his expression hardened and turned cold once again. “Still not apologizing now? Looks like you really don’t want Grandma to live.”
With those words, he snapped his fingers. At once, someone moved forward, preparing to cover Connee with a white sheet and wheel her toward the morgue.
“No!” Patsy screamed hoarsely. “I’ll do it! I’ll apologize—”
A cruel smile curved Cornell’s lips. “Good. When you’re done saying sorry, her surgery starts.”
The next second, she lowered her head for the first apology. Despite teetering on the edge of collapse, she forced herself to voice the words he demanded—each one different from the last.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve watched Grandma.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have argued back.”
“I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”
The crisp knocks of her knees against the floor echoed through the busy hall while passersby skirted her like she was something filthy.
Patsy didn’t care at all. In her heart, she carried a thousand apologies because maybe, in the end, it really was her fault.
She never should have believed Cornell married her because he still loved her.
She never should have foolishly hoped they could go back to the way things were, and for that fantasy, brought Connee into this mess.
Two minutes later, she had uttered all one hundred apologies. At this point, her voice was already hoarse.
With her knees covered in blood, she supported herself with trembling arms as she tried to rise—only to collapse back to the floor in exhaustion.
Dizzy and weak, she lifted her head to look at him and rasped, “Can you… save Grandma now?”
But Cornell gave a cold laugh and flicked a glance at the doctor. The next second, he gripped Patsy’s chin hard.
“Not yet. Stevvi lost ten rhinestones from her nails. You wait another ten minutes.”
Patsy’s eyes widened in disbelief at the delay. At that moment, panic filled her heart.
“No! Cornell, you promised! You said the surgery would start! If you delay ten more minutes, Grandma will die!”
Her desperate cry snapped the last thread of his restraint. He lunged at her again, his hand clamping around her throat.
“Oh, so you do know ten minutes can kill,” he spat. “Then why didn’t you show up earlier? Compared to you, I’m merciful. At least I’m not the one standing by and watching her die.”
His grip tightened, her face turning a ghastly shade of purple. She didn’t even have the strength to fight back.
When her breath was nearly gone, Cornell finally released her.
Pulling out a handkerchief, he wiped his hands with meticulous care, as though ridding himself of filth.
The gesture pierced her heart like a blade. Her voice trembled as she forced out, “Why…”
Before she could finish the question, he cut her off. “That’s what I want to ask you.”
Just one sentence, and Patsy’s heart turned to ice. She understood exactly what he meant.
He still didn’t believe her. He still hated her.
He hated her for allegedly running to a French tycoon the very day Cornell was sent to prison. He hated her for never visiting him once in those two years.
He blamed her for watching his mother jump from a building without saying a single word to stop her.
But she had explained it all again and again. She only wanted to ask him, “Why wouldn’t you believe me?”
As he walked away without glancing back, Patsy forced herself to her feet, clinging to her last breath of strength.
She had to move her grandmother to another hospital. If they wouldn’t save her here, someone else somewhere had to.
But just as she touched Connee’s face, someone yanked her back roughly.
“The patient has no vital signs. Ma’am, please step away. We need to attempt resuscitation.”
In that instant, chaos erupted outside the operating room. With her grandmother dying, a sharp pain exploded in Patsy’s mind. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed.
Her throat was so dry she could barely speak. She could only beg them again and again, her cries echoing through the hall.
“Please… Please save my grandma. I’m begging you…”
Soon, the doors to the operating room slammed shut. Patsy slumped weakly on the floor, a bitter taste rising in her throat. It was blood. She swallowed it down.
In a daze, she tried to find a chair to sit on. But the moment she stood, her vision blackened, and she collapsed headfirst.
When she opened her eyes again, all she saw was white.
For a fleeting second, she thought she’d reached heaven. A faint smile touched her lips… until a nurse’s voice shattered that fantasy.
“You’re finally awake. I’m so sorry, your grandmother didn’t make it. Please go to the mortuary to claim the body for cremation.”
She didn’t remember how she watched Connee disappear into the furnace.
Even when she carried the urn home, she felt like an empty shell, unable to shed a single tear.
She only knew something was wrong—Connee’s body used to be so warm. For the first time, it was cold. It was so cold it crushed the air from Patsy’s lungs.
She sat there for what felt like an eternity. When the sound of the door opening jolted her back to reality, she reached into her bag, pulled out the divorce papers she’d printed on her way home, and stared at them for a long time before rising.
For two years, no matter how many times Cornell hurt her, she never thought of leaving. She clung to the fantasy that they could still go back to how they used to be.
But now, she knew. That was all a delusion. They could never go back.
The Cornell who had loved her so desperately at twenty was gone. The man before her, at thirty, wanted nothing more than to destroy her.
Slowly, she descended the stairs with the stack of papers in hand. She held them out to him with a calm face.
“Cornell, President Spyres said you forgot to sign a few contracts last week. He sent them over this afternoon and asked me to remind you.”
Cornell skimmed the titles and saw they were indeed deals he’d negotiated earlier. Without a word, he signed them all.
And when his signature landed on that hidden divorce agreement, Patsy finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Once, they had endless things to say to each other. Now, they faced each other in silence.
Just like that, Patsy gathered the documents and turned upstairs.
One arm cradled Connee’s urn. The other opened her phone, pulling up train tickets.
“Grandma,” she whispered, “let’s go home.”
She no longer dreamed of reconciling with Cornell. All she wanted was to stay with her grandmother… forever.
第2章
There were only a few rides heading back to San Antonio, and the soonest one she could book was two days away.
But Patsy didn’t mind waiting. As long as she could go back home, that was enough.
As dusk fell, the doctor reminded her to rest. But she couldn’t close her eyes for even a second.
She sat by the bay window for a long time, and only when her throat felt unbearably dry did she finally step out to get some water.
The moment she reached the stairway, voices from downstairs drifted up to her.
“So you really just married her for revenge, Cornell? I thought you were just making things up to look good.”
“Yeah, man. Back when you got married, your stupid vows even had all of us tearing up. Who would’ve guessed you actually hated her that much?”
“What’s so unbelievable about that? That bitch—when Cornell hit rock bottom, she couldn't wait clinging to some big shot instead. She didn’t even bother hiring a lawyer, and when she saw Aunt Elspeth jump off the building, that bitch didn’t lift a damn finger to save the poor woman. Patsy’s practically a murderer!”
Patsy’s fingers tightened on the railing until her knuckles turned white.
A bitter smile curved her lips as she thought, ‘If I were a murderer, then every single one of them was an accomplice!’
Where were they when Cornell’s world fell apart?
When the McDermotts were destroyed overnight, bankrupt and stripped bare, and both Cornell and his father ended up in prison, where were his so-called friends?
What could she—a powerless outsider—do? She couldn’t even find a lawyer willing to take the case just because she was connected to the McDermotts.
When she learned Cornell had taken the blame for his father and would spend life behind bars, her hair turned white in a single night. She could only cry and cry until her vision blurred.
She had no other choice. In the dead of winter, she knelt outside his friends’ doors, begging for help. But not a single one of them came out to see her!
In the end, it was a friend who pulled strings and introduced her to a powerful man from France.
That man promised her this: stay by his side, and in two years, Cornell would walk free. Not only that—he’d make sure the McDermotts still had roots to stand on.
She didn’t hesitate. For Cornell’s sake, she would give him anything.
And so began those two years of hell—thrown into a blood-soaked arena, tortured until her body was nothing but scars.
The day Cornell’s mother jumped, someone sent word that she wanted to see Patsy.
She broke her left leg escaping, dragging herself across the city, only to find out it was a lie—his mother hadn’t wanted to see her at all. Elspeth had wanted to die.
Patsy clawed her way upstairs with a numb, lifeless leg. But she was still one step too late.
She was able to touch her mother-in-law’s hand. But Patsy couldn’t save her.
And those so-called brothers of his, where were they?
When she arrived, they were downstairs recording the scene, watching it like it was a show.
She could still hear their voices as if it were yesterday.
“Jump already! What’s with the act? Boring as hell!”
“Damn, Cornell’s mom actually looks pretty hot for her age. If she weren’t insane, I’d take her for a ride myself.”
When the police asked if anyone would go up to talk Elspeth down, every last one of them shook their heads.
Patsy was the only one who tried to go upstairs.
And now, these same men sat there together, shamelessly condemning her.
Patsy almost laughed out loud. But she didn’t bother to explain. No one would believe her anyway.
Her grip tightened around the water glass as she prepared to step forward. That was when his voice cut through the noise.
“Can you all shut the hell up?”
The sound of his anger made her heart jolt. After feeling numb, some part of her still reacted.
He was the same as the man she knew—never allowing anyone to judge what was his. Not even if he hated her.
But the next words rooted her to the spot.
“Stop making me lose my appetite. Do you want me to puke my dinner because of this crap? And those vows? Please. They were ripped off the internet. If you idiots cried at that, maybe you need a brain scan. I’ll give you a discount on our company’s new machine.”
He laughed. “You like bringing her up so much. Should I gift-wrap her for you? You can have her for a couple of days. I’ll even throw in a venue and cameras.”
The room erupted in hoots and jeers, everyone shouting they didn’t want her, even as their eyes gleamed like wolves.
Cornell scanned their faces and made a call to his assistant, Roald Riggs, telling him to make arrangements.
The living room erupted in fawning praises while Patsy’s eyes reddened.
Her flickering gaze brimmed with self-mockery—mocking her own stupid feelings, her one-sided love.
Two years later, and she was still foolish enough to believe he might defend her.
But her heart… God, it hurt so bad, like it had been ripped open.
Because those so-called crappy vows were the faith that carried her through the past two years.
When Cornell walked out of prison, she hadn’t expected to return to his side. The man who’d owned her wouldn’t let her go that easily.
But fate twisted again—the tycoon fell ill and slipped into a coma. And just like that, Cornell took her back.
She would never forget their wedding day. The moment the doors opened, he ran toward her.
They collided in their wedding attire, laughing like they had promised when they were young.
There was no priest because he insisted the vows would mean more if he said them himself.
But when he spoke, he cried so hard he could barely stand. His hands shook as he held the rings.
He knelt before her, devotion shining in his tear-filled eyes.
“Patsy, ten years isn’t enough. Even if I live to a hundred and eight, I’ll still love you without holding back. Even if you betray me, even if you stop loving me, even if you leave me… I’ll still love you. Loving you is carved into my bones. Maybe you don’t understand now, but when we lie side by side in our coffin, crossing into the next life, you’ll know. Will you marry me?”
She never imagined those vows would shatter the very night they wed.
She waited for him in the bridal suite, only for him to return covered in someone else’s kisses—and tell her to move into the guest room.
Later, she learned the truth. He hadn’t married her out of love but out of hatred, one that sank into his bones.
And still, she clung to hope. No matter how many times he hurt her, she explained and explained, praying that one day, things would return to what they once were.
She wasn’t stupid. It was just that Cornell’s vows had been too beautiful.
She had loved him for ten years. She knew the love in his eyes hadn’t been fake. She knew those words had come from the heart.
But in the end, all that certainty crumbled the day her grandmother died.
Patsy was done waiting. She was done explaining. She surrendered.
Whether those vows had been copied online or spoken with sincerity, she didn’t want them anymore.
If anyone was to blame, it was Cornell and his flawless act. He had fooled her for so long.
With a trembling hand, Patsy wiped the tears streaming down her face. Her chest felt so tight she could barely breathe, and she exhaled hard to ease the ache.
At least now, she was awake. At least now, he could never fool her again.
She didn’t go downstairs. Instead, she shut the door, blocking out the chaos beyond it.
Burying herself in the comforter, she lay still for a long while before finally rising to fold her grandmother’s clothes.
That was when the door swung open.
Cornell stood there, his face a thundercloud, his gaze fixed on the garments in her hands.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
第3章
Patsy froze for a moment but didn’t turn around. Her voice was hoarse when she replied.
“I’m taking Grandma back to our hometown.”
Cornell’s heart, which had been tightly wound, loosened slightly. His face returned to its usual expressionless calm.
“When are you leaving? Send me your return flight details that day. I’ll pick you up.”
Patsy’s lips curved faintly, that same detached smile never wavering.
“No need. I’m not—”
Before she could finish, a sharp and confident voice rang out from the hallway.
“Hon! Come look at my new nail tips! Aren’t they gorgeous?”
It was Stevvi.
Cornell turned on his heel without hesitation, leaving Patsy’s unfinished words—I’m not coming back—lodged in her throat.
She hadn’t planned to make any dramatic declarations. Her only fear was that Cornell hadn’t punished her enough yet and would never let her leave.
After a moment of thought, she decided not to say it.
Slowly, she walked forward and closed the guest room door, shutting out the so-called “husband and wife” outside.
Patsy remembered the first time she heard Stevvi call Cornell honey. Patsy had cried and confronted Cornell about it, only to be met with his indifferent response.
“So what? What do you want from me? Should I beat her for you? Kick her out? Or are you hoping for a threesome?”
“Patsy,” he had said coldly, “the moment you abandoned me, you should’ve known that one day I’d make you pay back double. Don’t forget—this is what you deserve.”
From then on, she understood—this was his revenge.
The three of them… It was not quite a marriage and not quite an affair.
She had heard that word, honey, for two years now, yet she had never once spoken it aloud. Cornell never allowed her to.
Funny thing was, before the wedding, he used to coax her endlessly just to get her to call him that.
He loved that endearment to death, forcing her to say it almost every time before he would give her what she wanted.
But after they got married, he never let her say it again. Maybe the very thought of it disgusted him.
After all, he never saw her as a wife. He could even toss her into another man’s bed like a disposable object.
When she finished packing, Patsy stood up, her knees throbbing with a dull ache.
She glanced out the window. Sure enough, it had started to rain.
Her leg had been injured once, nearly torn apart by a wolf in an underground fighting pit.
Back then, someone had given her an ultimatum: survive ten minutes with the beast, and Cornell would eat and sleep well in prison. Fail, and he’d “receive special treatment.”
She nearly lost her life that day. It wasn’t until a friend sent word that he was safe that she could finally breathe again.
Now, whenever the weather turned bad, her knee burned with a sharp, bone-deep pain.
She stood still for a while before pulling open the bedside drawer in search of painkillers.
Before she could find them, the door burst open.
“Patsy, get out of here.”
She didn’t move. She had no desire to be part of whatever twisted game they were playing.
In the past, she had gone along with him—out of love and out of guilt for failing to save his mother.
But now, her love had worn down to dust. There was nothing left in her heart for her to expect.
That was why when Cornell grabbed her wrist, she snapped, thrashing wildly in his grip.
But every time she broke free, he caught her again—until he dragged her into the living room.
“Stevvi wants to eat hand-peeled walnuts,” he said coolly. “Her nails make it hard to crack them. You do it.”
Patsy stared at the table piled high with walnuts. Her chest tightened as memories flashed across her mind—Cornell scaling a wild mountain just to pick walnuts for her.
It was the day before the SAT. Teachers had told everyone to relax.
But he had skipped class and dragged her into the mountains, climbing trees like a fool and knocking down a rain of walnuts for her.
Fresh walnuts were nearly impossible to crack, but he peeled them open one by one, handing each to her.
“Walnuts are good for the brain,” he’d said with a grin. “Hope you ace the exam tomorrow.”
That was the first time she realized even under a walnut tree, love could blossom.
They had promised—after the exams, they would be together.
She remembered how his hands bled from cracking so many shells. When they returned to class, gathering scattered walnuts, he had said, “Whatever you crave in the future, just tell me. I’ll get it for you. I’d never let my girl hurt herself.”
But now… he had shoved a table full of walnuts at her, asking her to peel them for his mistress.
Patsy’s throat tightened. She blinked hard, forcing her voice steady.
“I don’t want to.”
Cornell, who had just sat down, froze for a moment, then sneered. “You sure about that?”
Her knee ached so badly she could barely stand, but she ignored him and turned away.
That’s when he pulled something from his pocket and tossed it onto the table.
“You can refuse if you want,” he said, voice sharp as a blade. “But don’t expect to see your grandma’s bracelet again.”
At the word bracelet, Patsy stopped dead and turned around.
Lying on the table was a delicate string of seashells—the keepsake her grandparents had exchanged as a token of love.
It had vanished years ago, tucked away by her grandmother and forgotten after dementia stole her memories.
Connee had searched everywhere for it, but it never turned up—until now, in Cornell’s hand.
Patsy’s eyes burned red in that instant. Without a word, she dropped to her knees in front of the coffee table.
“I’ll do it.”
Connee hadn’t seen the bracelet before she passed. If Patsy could bring it to her… maybe she’d be happy, wherever she was.
As she cracked the walnuts, her gaze never left the bracelet. She knew it was the one—she had seen it when she was a child.
But the shells were hard, and after a few attempts, blood welled from her fingertips. She resorted to using her teeth.
Just as she brought the walnut to her mouth, a sharp pain exploded across her face.
第4章
Stevvi waved her long, manicured nails with a mocking smile. “Ugh, how could you peel them with your mouth? That’s disgusting!”
Patsy felt a burning pain where Stevvi’s nails had grazed her skin.
Before she could even recover, another sharp sting exploded across her face.
Stevvi had thrown an entire bowl of walnuts—freshly shelled by Patsy—straight at her.
“I can smell your spit on them,” Stevvi sneered. “You don’t mind peeling another batch, do you?”
Instinctively, Patsy looked toward Cornell, hoping he’d at least confirm that she had used only her hands, not her mouth.
But his expression was as cold and distant as ever. It was clear he had no intention of defending her. He only wanted her to keep going.
Her lips curved in a bitter, predictable smile as she lowered her gaze. The impact of those walnuts had left her bandaged forehead throbbing, pain pulsing in waves.
She shook her head slightly, and then she glanced at the bracelet clenched in Cornell’s hand before lifting her blood-streaked hands once more.
But the moment she picked up a walnut, her hand was slapped hard.
The sting was electric—literally. The fly swatter Stevvi had used was wired, and the jolt made Patsy’s stomach cramp violently.
Stevvi didn’t show a shred of guilt. Instead, she frowned in disgust.
“Your hands are covered in blood. Yuck. I’m not eating walnuts with blood on them.”
Patsy understood now—Stevvi had no intention of letting her have a moment’s peace.
She turned toward Cornell, ready to speak, when Stevvi suddenly dragged her toward the kitchen.
Before she could even react, pain seared through her fingertips.
Stevvi had poured an entire bottle of alcohol over her hands. The burn was so fierce it made her gasp for breath.
Staring at the smug triumph on Stevvi’s face, Patsy looked at her with cold eyes.
“So that’s your goal? Hurting me just to pleasure yourself? Hate to break it to you, but you completely failed.”
Stevvi didn’t flinch at the insult. If anything, her grin widened.
“Failed? I turned you into the woman Cornell despises the most. And I taught that old hag a lesson along the way. I feel fantastic.”
Patsy froze at what she heard, confusion clouding her eyes. “What do you mean?”
Stevvi chuckled coldly at her reaction.
“God, you’re so stupid. I honestly don’t know why Cornell would choose a little ugly duckling like you over me—a rich, gorgeous socialite.”
Her voice dripped with scorn as she leaned in closer. “Do you want me to spell it out? Why do you think he never found out what you did for him in France? Why do you think he’s in love with me now? And your precious grandma—she really couldn’t handle a little impact, could she? Forty miles per hour, and she went flying.”
There wasn’t the slightest trace of guilt in Stevvi’s expression, no fear at all in revealing the truth. Her face radiated the thrill of winning a game she had orchestrated perfectly.
Patsy trembled with rage at those words.
Ignoring the pain ripping through her hands, she slapped Stevvi hard across the face.
“You’re sick! That is murder!”
But Stevvi wasn’t intimidated in the least. In their circle, blood on your hands was hardly a novelty.
“Go ahead, report me,” she taunted. “See who ends up ruined. Or do you really think Cornell would believe you?”
Her smile brimmed with confidence, and even though fury nearly drove Patsy insane, she knew Stevvi was right.
She had no evidence or witnesses. If she fought Stevvi head-on, she might be the one to end up behind bars.
And if that happened, Connee would never make it home.
Eyes squeezed shut, Patsy bit down on her lip so hard it almost bled, forcing herself to calm down.
When she finally opened her eyes, her hand shot up again—but this time, someone stopped her.
“Can’t even handle shelling a few walnuts?” Cornell’s voice was cold. “You’re so useless, marrying you was a waste of my life.”
With that, he flung her hand aside and stepped protectively in front of Stevvi.
The moment his gaze fell on the red imprint marring Stevvi’s cheek, his face darkened, a storm gathering in his eyes as he turned back to Patsy.
“You hit her?”
The look of accusation in his eyes made Patsy laugh bitterly inside.
‘I guess this is how two people can go from loving each other dearly to utterly loathing each other,’ she realized.
She nodded. “I slapped her. And you—”
Before she could finish, a resounding smack cracked through the room. His palm landed on her face like a slab of iron.
The force sent her staggering into the wall, her ears ringing so loudly she could hear nothing else.
Blood filled her mouth as her tongue brushed against a tooth that had come loose.
Her knees buckled, and she nearly collapsed until Cornell seized her by the arm and yanked her upright.
“If you don’t understand your place in this villa,” he said, his tone sharp enough to cut, “then I’ll make sure you do.”
第5章
As soon as the words left Cornell’s mouth, he opened the door and threw Patsy out.
With new injuries piled on top of old ones, Patsy lay weakly on the ground, unable to get up.
The storm lashed down like needles, drenching her clothes in mere seconds.
The icy rain seeped into her bones, and uncontrollable shivers wracked her body.
Cornell stood at the doorway, lips pressed into a hard line, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.
He watched her struggle—crawl up only to collapse again—and for a fleeting moment, he almost reached out to help her. But he crushed that impulse, forcing himself to turn away.
“Theo,” his voice was cold as he ordered the butler, “watch her. She’s not allowed back inside for at least three hours.”
Without another glance, he started to walk back in.
Patsy pushed herself up on trembling arms and shouted after him, her voice cracking against the downpour.
“Cornell! Stevvi hit Grandma on purpose! I went to France because of you!”
But the storm drowned her words. She didn’t hear a reply, only the heavy thud of the door slamming shut.
A laugh broke from her lips, brittle and broken. Her whole body shook, and the water streaming down her face blurred into tears she could no longer distinguish.
Theo hesitated, heart aching at the sight. He walked over with an umbrella and tried to reason with her.
“Ma'am, Sir Cornell didn’t mean it. Just say something soft. He won’t stay angry forever. You two are husband and wife, after all.”
Patsy shook her head, a bitter smile tugging at her lips.
Seeing her stubborn refusal to yield, Theo sighed and retreated under the eaves, helpless.
But only Patsy knew—her shake of the head wasn’t just about refusing to give in. It was her silent admission: they weren’t husband and wife anymore.
Since Cornell thought marrying her was a waste, she would solve that problem for him.
The rain didn’t stop; it only grew heavier.
By the time she made it back to her room, her entire body burned with fever.
She collapsed on the bed, slipping into a restless haze. In her dreams, she was back in her childhood home.
Connee was there, teaching her to plant vegetables, pushing her on a swing, making their old house look warm and beautiful.
But when everything was done, Connee smiled and waved goodbye.
A crushing sadness wrapped around Patsy’s heart. She clung desperately to her grandmother’s hand and cried out, “Grandma, don’t go! Please, come back…”
But the moment Connee stepped out of the courtyard, she vanished into thin air.
“Grandma!” Patsy jolted awake, gasping, her voice hoarse.
Her hand had clamped down hard on Cornell’s, making his brows knit in pain.
He quietly pried her fingers off, straightening from the bedside without a word.
Looking down at her sweat-drenched and disoriented face, he let out a sharp and mocking laugh.
“If you miss Connee so much, why don’t you stay at the hospital with her? What’s the point of pretending here? If you’re awake, get up. Help Stevvi pick out a dress.”
Perhaps it was the fever, or the lingering sorrow from her dream, but Patsy’s defenses crumbled in that instant.
She reached out and grabbed his hand, her bloodshot eyes locking on his with raw desperation.
“Cornell… can you hold me?”
She couldn’t even remember how long it had been since that embrace she once loved had belonged to her.
His hand went numb under her grip. He froze, staring into her eyes, dazed for a heartbeat too long until a voice rang from the doorway.
“Hon?”
It was Stevvi. The spell broke. Cornell jerked his hand free with a snap.
“Are you that starved for love, Patsy? Should I find you a few men to fix that?”
“Don’t you ever touch me again,” he warned. “I feel dirty.”
After saying that, he yanked a few tissues from the box and scrubbed his hand over and over, as if her touch had soiled him.
The look of revulsion in his eyes made Patsy go still.
Shame scorched through her as she realized what a pathetic thing she had just done.
Lowering her lashes to hide the tears stinging her eyes, she turned her head away from him.
The air turned thick with silence until Stevvi stepped inside. She paused when she caught the look in Cornell’s eyes, a flicker of malice flashing in her own.
But in the next second, she masked it with a sweet smile and slid her hand through his arm, her tone dripping with coyness.
“Hon, those dresses are all so boring. Can I wear that simple wedding dress to the party instead?”
第6章
The moment Stevvi mentioned the “simple wedding dress,” Patsy knew exactly which one she meant.
It was that one Cornell had personally arranged back in college—a collaboration with a world-class brand, designed exclusively for Patsy. She wore that very dress at their wedding.
From the fabric to the design, Cornell had supervised every detail himself. Even the tiny diamonds on it—he had set them in one by one with his own hands.
The dress was simple, yet brimming with love. She remembered asking him back then why he didn’t make her a big, sweeping gown.
His answer had been “Because if you ever try to run away from the wedding, you’ll be able to run faster.”
But Patsy knew that wasn’t the real reason. Deep down, it was his selfishness talking.
He didn’t want the dress to be something she could only wear once. If the dress were less cumbersome, she could put it on more often.
That way, everyone would know whose wife she was—that the one-of-a-kind dress belonged to her alone.
Yet now, it seemed that the dress was about to have a new owner.
Her eyes flickered slightly before she heard Cornell answer.
“Of course, you can have it. But you’ll need to ask its former owner first.”
The sarcasm in his tone didn’t escape Patsy. Calling her the “former owner” meant her opinion no longer mattered.
He was only using that dress as a weapon to mock her.
If this had been before, she would’ve begged him not to give it away. But now… now, she couldn’t care less.
Before Stevvi could even ask, Patsy answered.
“Take it,” she said evenly. “I don’t want it anymore.”
The calmness on her face stirred something strange in Cornell’s chest.
For the past two years, he’d tortured her in every way he could think of. Every time, she’d cry until she couldn’t breathe, desperately explaining her side of the story over and over.
But these past two days, she seemed like a different person. She didn’t cry, and she didn’t try to explain to him anymore.
After a moment’s thought, he convinced himself this was just another ploy. She must be trying to trick him—get him to soften up and fall for her again.
His expression darkened at the thought, his voice laced with venom.
“How generous of you. Why don’t you throw in the amethyst set, too? And the ring. After all, you don’t seem to care anymore.”
Patsy had only one ring—their wedding band. She closed her eyes briefly, and then she slid it off her finger.
“Sure.”
The way she agreed so swiftly made Cornell’s face turn so thunderous that it was almost ugly.
“If you’re that willing,” he sneered, “then give her Connee’s bracelet, too. I’m sure Stevvi loves that piece. Don’t you, Stevvi?”
Stevvi’s fingers dug into her palm as she forced a smile. “Yeah…”
Patsy froze, her voice sharp with panic. “That bracelet’s worthless. Just… return it to me.”
Cornell’s lips curved into a cruel smile.
“I can give it back,” he said softly. “On one condition—you come to the party tonight.”
Her fever still hadn’t broken, but for the bracelet, she nodded.
What she didn’t expect was that the party would be nothing short of a death trap.
“Cornell, what are you trying to do?”
The sight before her made her scalp prickle with terror—a Tibetan mastiff in a steel cage, bared teeth glinting under the light.
The scene dragged her back to those two years of hell. She couldn’t live through that again.
But Cornell’s next words sealed her fate.
“Almost forgot to tell you—the theme of tonight’s party is beast fights. Stevvi’s afraid of dogs, so… you’re up.”
Forgot? No, his tone said he never intended to tell her at all. And Stevvi? She looked anything but scared. She was practically buzzing with excitement.
As drool dripped from the mastiff’s jaws, Patsy’s entire body went rigid. Every instinct screamed for her to run.
She forced her voice to stay calm.
“You only told me to come to the party,” she said coldly. “You never said anything about this. Give me the bracelet. I’m leaving.”
第7章
Patsy’s neck stiffened as she slowly reached out her hand toward Cornell.
But he let out a low, mocking laugh instead. “Go keep that beast entertained, and I promise you’ll get the bracelet right away. Or,” his voice dipped colder, “you can refuse, and I’ll give the bracelet to that beast as a toy instead.”
Patsy’s hand froze midair. A chill surged through her veins, cold sweat breaking out across her body.
Cornell’s eyes locked on her with unyielding intensity. There wasn’t the slightest hint of a joke in his expression.
Her lips trembled as she tightly closed her eyes, curling her fingers into her palm with helpless resignation. She knew there was no way out.
Terror consumed her, making her entire body tremble. But she still forced herself to speak, her voice faint yet stubborn.
“You said it yourself—when I’m done, you’ll give it back to me.”
With that, she stiffly strapped on the basic protective gear and stepped into the iron cage, tall enough to hold a man.
Seeing her move, Cornell’s body stilled for a second. His gaze grew darker, unfathomable.
The low, guttural breathing of the beast filled Patsy’s ears, primal and threatening. Instinctively, she shifted into a defensive stance.
One after another, people were shoved into nearby cages, their terrified screams echoing through the space like a storm.
Startled by the commotion, the Tibetan mastiff in front of her lunged with a ferocious snarl.
Relying on old instincts, she lifted her leg and kicked hard at its belly.
But her body—worn down from two years of relentless torment—couldn’t hold up. The kick barely bought her a second before the mastiff’s weight crashed down, turning the fight into a savage one-sided assault.
Pain ripped through her arm as its teeth sank in deep. Patsy collapsed onto the blood-stained floor of the cage, her scarlet eyes drifting toward Cornell’s silhouette in the distance.
The mastiff released her arm only to clamp down on her knee—the same knee that had been mauled once before.
She squeezed her eyes shut, all hope extinguished, and a single tear slid from the corner of her eye.
Blood seeped across the cage floor, and the scent drove the beast into a frenzy. It reared back to tear another chunk of flesh.
But suddenly, it toppled sideways with a thud, a gaping and bloodied hole in its skull.
The gunshot cracked like thunder, leaving Stevvi frozen in shock. It took her a full second to latch onto Cornell’s arm.
She opened her mouth to speak, but his icy glare cut her down before the words could form.
“If this was part of your plan,” he said, his tone like a blade, “then there’s no point in signing that contract.”
He flung the gun away with visible irritation.
“Boring,” he muttered. “I’m leaving.”
Before he walked out, Cornell stopped by Patsy’s cage. With a cold, almost mocking air, he tossed the bracelet onto the pool of blood in front of her.
“A bracelet means more to you than I ever did. Hah. You really are something, Patsy.”
His voice carried bitter self-mockery. Without another glance, he turned and strode away.
Patsy’s heart had long since turned to ash. She didn’t want to explain. Not anymore.
With trembling fingers, she picked up the blood-streaked bracelet and wrapped her wounds with practiced hands before dragging her battered and bloodied body home.
The train was leaving at dawn. She still needed to pack.
Through the night, she carefully sorted everything that belonged to her grandmother into a suitcase. Not a single item of her own went in.
At sunrise, she asked Theo to help her send out a parcel. And then, she finally opened the door.
The moment it swung wide, she saw Cornell leaning against his car.
His brows knitted tight the instant he saw her—pale, broken, barely standing.
“You’re about to die, and you don’t even think of seeing a doctor? You’re that desperate to get away from me?”
His tone dripped with cold sarcasm, but Patsy had no strength left to argue with him.
“There’s only this train,” she murmured weakly.
Cornell didn’t answer. He just yanked the car door open in a silent command to get in.
But she shook her head faintly.
“I already booked a ticket. I won’t trouble you.”
That quiet refusal lodged in his chest like a jagged stone. With a sharp slam, he shut the door. Unwilling to humiliate himself further, he stepped on the gas to leave.
But as he passed her, he slowed down and said in a cold, hard voice, “When you pick up Connee, take your time. When you come back, we’re going to have a proper talk.”
Her eyes burned instantly at those words. A second later, tears slipped free.
She had waited for those words for so long—only to hear them now on the day she was leaving. She no longer wanted it.
Still, she forced a faint smile and nodded. “Alright.”
Satisfied with her answer, Cornell didn’t linger. His car roared away down the road.
After he was gone, Patsy sent the prepared package to her closest friend.
When the train finally lurched forward, she pulled out the small urn from her bag and clutched it tight.
Staring out the window, she whispered a silent farewell.
‘Goodbye, Cornell. Goodbye, Patsy—the woman who once loved so fiercely.’