My Lawyer Boyfriend Defended the Man Who Took My Scalpel

Doctors worked on my brother for a full day and night before he was finally pulled back from the brink of death. Even so, he remained in a deep coma. No one could say when—if ever—he would wake up. I stood beside his hospital bed, staring at his tightly shut eyes, my throat feeling as though it were clogged with sharp thorns. This was all because of me. My brother ended up like this because of me. Randall walked into the room, his voice carrying a trace of apology. “Your brother’s condition was an accident. I didn’t expect him to do something so extreme.” My nose stung suddenly, and my nails dug hard into my palm. “As long as you withdraw the lawsuit,” he said, “I’ll bring in the best specialists. I’ll make sure he wakes up.” My fingers trembled, a wave of nausea surging so violently it almost burst out of my throat. What right did Randall have? What right did he have to stand here, wearing the posture of a benefactor, trying to patch up the hell he himself had created? Every inch of the pain my brother and I were suffering was the result of his careful calculations. But he hadn’t always been like this. Seven years ago, he had been nothing more than a student who dreamed of becoming a lawyer. To stick to that path, he fought bitterly with his parents, moved out on his own, and rented a tiny apartment in the most remote part of the city. That same year, my cat was poisoned to death. I held that small, lifeless body and stood outside the police station for a long time. After that, I went from one law firm to another, knocking on doors, explaining what had happened over and over again, begging for nothing more than an answer. Every response I got was a rejection. Every one, except Randall. After listening to my story, he handed me a tissue, his voice deliberately gentle. “You’re crying so hard I can barely hear what you’re saying.” I lowered my head, my voice shaking. “I know cases like this aren’t worth much… but it was still a life.” He squatted down so we were eye to eye. “I know. And that’s exactly why someone has to take it.” I hesitated before asking, “This case… can it really be fought?” He looked up at me, his gaze unwavering. “I can’t promise we’ll win. But I promise I’ll do everything I possibly can.” That lawsuit dragged on for several months. Randall stayed up all night researching, rewrote the complaint again and again over the smallest details, and even though his bank card had been cut off and he was desperately broke, he still comforted me. “Don’t worry about the money. Let’s finish what needs to be done first.” In the end, we won. The perpetrator didn’t go to prison, but he was fined for intentional property damage and forced to issue a public apology. The outcome wasn’t perfect, but it was the best ending I could have imagined at the time. It was only later that I learned—that case had been the very first lawsuit Randall ever won. On the day the trial ended, he hugged me outside the courthouse. He smiled like a boy, bright and unrestrained, his voice impossible to hold back. “Tara, did you hear that?” “He admitted he was wrong.” “So persistence really does mean something.” In that moment, I was struck by his kindness, and deeply moved by his almost clumsy devotion to justice. But seven years had passed. The boy who once argued fiercely over “just a cat,” who celebrated a single victory by hugging someone and cheering, was gone. He had become just like those people—willing to use any means necessary as long as he won the case. I forced myself to grit my teeth and calm down. I forced all the surging emotions back into the deepest part of my heart. Because I knew that, right now, I still couldn’t go up against him. The support my senior had arranged for me hadn’t arrived yet. I heard myself speak in a voice that was almost eerily calm. “Randall, let’s break up.” The air went dead silent. Unable to help myself, I deliberately brought up the nineteen failed attempts at marriage registration. “Look at us. Every time we try to register our marriage, something goes wrong. Maybe it really is fate telling us we’re not meant to be together.” When those words left my mouth, my chest hurt so badly I nearly couldn’t straighten up. Letting go of a seven-year relationship was never easy. My brother and I depended on each other, and before all this, Randall had been my second family. But I thought breaking up was the wisest way to protect myself. Wasn’t he deliberately tormenting me under the excuse of “repaying a debt of gratitude,” just to delay the marriage? Then I would give him his freedom outright. I would let him return to the person he truly wanted to be with. But the very next second after I finished speaking, he suddenly reached out and pulled me tightly into his arms. “What nonsense are you talking about?!” His tone was forceful, domineering, and absurd, as if it had never once crossed his mind that I—who loved him so deeply—would propose a breakup. I struggled in disgust, but he only held me tighter. “Don’t use breaking up to provoke me, okay?” “I’ve already compromised. What more do you want from me?” “I was just trying to scare you a little. I didn’t expect your brother to jump off the building. I didn’t want this either. Seeing your brother like that hurts me more than anyone.” “This is my fault. I’ll make it up to you.” “Trust me. We’ll go register next week. Once we’re married, everything will be perfect, and your brother will be treated properly and recover safely.” My body was still too familiar with his embrace. For a moment, I couldn’t push him away. The remnants of love and pain tangled together, leaving me almost unable to breathe. Just as I struggled to shove him aside, his phone rang. Almost reflexively, he released me. The moment he answered the call, his tone changed completely—gentle, patient, even indulgent. “Mmm, I know.” “Tara has already agreed to withdraw the lawsuit. Uncle won’t go to prison, so don’t worry.” My gaze shook violently, my heart feeling as if it had been scooped out in an instant. I knew who was on the other end of the line. It was Samantha.

I didn’t know what Samantha had said on the phone, but the next second, Randall’s expression changed. “You’re at the hospital? What’s wrong? Where do you feel uncomfortable?” He only had time to say one hurried sentence to me. “Tara, calm down. I’ll go check on Samantha and come right back.” Then he turned and left. He didn’t see the hand I was clutching with gauze—already soaked through with blood from rushing back and forth. He didn’t ask if it hurt. In his eyes, my injury and my brother’s life meant nothing compared to a single sentence from Samantha: “I don’t feel well.” But I clearly remembered how things used to be. Back then, if I so much as nicked the skin beside my nail while cooking, he would notice immediately, panic setting in, his eyes turning red with worry. How did it ever become like this? When did the lie really begin—seven years ago, or after Randall moved back to his parents’ home? ‘Randall. Why won’t you agree to break up?!’ Those questions crushed over and over in my mind. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make sense of it. Just then, my phone rang. It was a call from the obstetrics and gynecology department, reminding me to pick up my follow-up test results. In that instant, my head buzzed. My memory snapped uncontrollably back to the fifteenth time our marriage registration had failed. That time, I had been knocked to the ground by a dog that suddenly went berserk on my way home. Blood everywhere. The child I had just conceived was gone before I even knew I was pregnant. I slowly placed my hand over my lower abdomen. A chill seeped into my limbs like poison. And yet, I still couldn’t help thinking, ‘Maybe that time really had been an accident.’ No matter how cold-blooded someone was, they wouldn’t lay a hand on their own child… right? But when I reached the obstetrics department, I saw Randall and Samantha walking out side by side. They didn’t notice me at all. “Randall, I’m already pregnant with your baby,” Samantha said softly, her voice tinged with grievance. “But I can only stay with you like this—without a name or a status.” Randall lowered his voice as he comforted her. “There’s no choice, Samantha. Our relationship can’t see the light of day.” “Back then, my dad and your mom were foster siblings who loved each other. With that kind of history, we can never go public.” Samantha pouted, refusing to let him hold her. Randall just smiled. He lowered his head and kissed the top of her hair, his tone gentle—and cruel. “It’s fine. Even if I can’t marry you, so what?” “My child will only ever be born by you.” “As for Tara’s, didn’t I already arrange for a rabid dog to take care of it? And I won’t let her get pregnant again in the future.” Samantha asked coquettishly, “What if she gets pregnant again by accident?” Randall’s answer stabbed straight into my heart like a knife. “She won’t.” “I’ve been adding contraceptives to the vitamins she takes every day. The dosage is high.” “She can’t get pregnant.” “After she marries me, she’ll look like the glamorous wife of Atty. Hendershot to the outside world. But only we’ll know the truth—my lover is you, and my only heir will be your child.” A piercing wave of tinnitus crashed over me. My legs gave out, and I slid to the floor. And suddenly, I understood why he had refused to break up with me earlier. At this moment, there was no room left for self-deception. That child’s death had never been an accident. It wasn’t fate’s cruel joke. It was a result that had been precisely calculated long in advance. Done by Randall himself. He hadn’t just plotted my life and manipulated my choices. Without my knowledge, he had slowly destroyed my body, piece by piece. He had even used medication to cut off my ability to become a mother—turning me into someone who posed no “future risk” to him at all. As that realization spread through my mind, I could barely breathe. It felt like something heavy was crushing my chest. Seven years of memories surged forward all at once. Every detail I had once believed was tenderness and care now revealed its sharp, hidden edge. Whether he had ever truly loved me no longer mattered. All I knew was that the harm he had done to me was real. I trembled with hatred, retching uncontrollably. If I had a knife in my hand at that moment, I would have stabbed him without hesitation. Just as my emotions were about to shatter what little reason I had left, a pair of polished leather shoes stopped in front of me. A shadow fell, blocking the harsh corridor lights. “Ms. Barnhart, we finally found you.” The man’s voice was steady and restrained, carrying a presence that was impossible to ignore. “I’m the lawyer who will be representing you in your upcoming case.” He reached out and helped me up from the floor, his movements polite yet firm, then placed a business card in my hand. I didn’t need to look down to recognize who he was. Erwin Millstein. Randall’s former classmate—and one of the peers he had feared most over the years. A rising star at a world-renowned law firm, famous for his calm precision, sharp tactics, and utter lack of mercy. There was a professional smile on his face, but his eyes were deep and nearly cold, as if he had long grown accustomed to staring directly at the ugliest sides of human nature. At that moment, I felt an unexpected sense of relief. Like someone drowning, finally grabbing onto a piece of driftwood that wouldn’t break. Almost instinctively, I clenched the sleeve of his suit, my fingers turning white with force. My voice was low, nearly a plea. “Attorney… help me. I want Randall’s life completely ruined.” If before, all I wanted was justice, then now, my resolve was clear and chillingly calm. I didn’t want compensation. I wanted payback. Blood for blood. Erwin looked down at me, his gaze lingering on my face for a brief moment. Then he raised his hand and gently wiped the tears from the corner of my eye with his thumb. “No one who stands in a courtroom is truly clean,” he said quietly. “Including Randall.” “The outcome you want,” he continued, “I can guarantee it.” I stared at him, my voice hoarse. “There are six days left. Is that enough time?” Erwin smiled faintly. The smile never reached his eyes, but it carried an almost ruthless confidence. “More than enough.” “Perfect timing, actually. A week from now is Randall’s televised interview.” “Let him fall off the cliff at the very peak of his glory. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Erwin looked as if he had been waiting for this opportunity for a long time. Hearing his firm, unequivocal promise, the nerves that had been stretched to their limit finally eased just a little. I sent a message to my senior. [The lawyer has already met with me. Everything’s been arranged very carefully.] [Senior, thank you. Truly.] It took a while before he replied. I was staring blankly at my screen when my phone suddenly vibrated. He was calling me directly. “You’ve met Erwin already?” he asked. His voice was as calm as ever, but there was noticeably less distance in it than usual. “Yeah.” I nodded instinctively, then realized he couldn’t see me and added softly, “He’s very professional. And he’s been very considerate.” There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. “That’s good,” he said at last. Something about the way he said those three words felt… off. “For now, just cooperate with the process. Don’t overthink it,” he continued. “I’ll take care of the rest.” My throat tightened. “Senior, you’ve already helped me so much—” “I—” “Tara.” He cut me off, but his tone wasn’t harsh. “Don’t rush to thank me.” “Just get through this stretch first.” “When I finish dealing with what I have on hand, I’ll come find you.” He said it naturally, calmly—but with a certainty that left no room for doubt. I fell silent for a moment before answering quietly. “Okay.” After the call ended, I had no idea that almost at the same time, another call was being placed. My senior stood by the floor-to-ceiling window in his office, his expression dark and heavy. Neon lights from outside reflected faintly in his eyes, yet not a trace of warmth remained. “Erwin.” The moment the call connected, he said his name outright. No pleasantries. No preamble. “I’m warning you,” he said coldly. “Don’t entertain thoughts you shouldn’t have about her.” A low chuckle came from the other end. “You’re being a little dramatic, aren’t you?” Erwin replied lazily. “I haven’t done anything.” “She’s not someone you get to toy with,” my senior said, his voice turning icy, every word steady and deliberate. “She’s mine.” There was a two-second silence on the line. Then came a soft, ambiguous laugh. “Understood.” The response was perfunctory, almost entirely devoid of sincerity. “Relax. I know my limits.” Before another word could be said, the call was already disconnected. At the far end of the corridor, my figure disappeared around the corner. Erwin put his phone away, slid one hand into his pocket, and stood there watching for a moment. The curve of his lips was lazy—yet dangerous. As if he hadn’t taken that warning seriously at all. When I returned to the hospital room, the tension in my mind snapped tight. Randall and Samantha were standing by my brother’s bed, doing something I couldn’t quite see. Almost instinctively, I quickened my pace and stepped between them and my brother. Hatred and vigilance surged up from deep inside me at the same time. The moment Samantha saw me, a sweet smile bloomed on her face. “Tara, thank you for being willing to withdraw the lawsuit,” she said softly. Then, in a gentle tone that cut deeper than a knife, she added, “You don’t have parents, so maybe you can’t really understand how important parents are to me.” The words pierced straight into my chest like a needle. “Oh, right,” she continued lightly. “Tara, the day after tomorrow is my mom’s birthday. Would you like to come over for dinner? We want to thank you properly in person.” I swallowed down the metallic taste in my throat and rejected her coldly. “No. My brother needs someone to take care of him.” Samantha instinctively glanced at Randall, looking flustered and unsure. Randall frowned and turned to me. “Tara, there will be a caregiver to look after your brother. You don’t need to stay here all the time.” “Samantha is my sister. Her family is essentially my family as well. This is a family dinner. It wouldn’t look good for you, as my fiancée, not to attend.” I refused again, my tone decisive. “We’re not married yet. I have no obligation to attend your family’s dinner.” This time, the displeasure on his face finally slipped through before he could fully hide it. He clearly hadn’t expected me—who had always been obedient—to push back against his arrangements. After a brief pause, he softened his tone, as if assuming I was just being emotional. “Since you’ve chosen to be my wife, you need to shoulder the responsibilities that come with that.” “You have to attend this dinner. Otherwise, your brother’s treatment—” I snapped my head up and stared at him. This man I had once loved so deeply. Even after being hurt so many times, I had still underestimated just how ruthless he could be. To force me to submit, he was using my brother to threaten me again. I still remembered how he used to tell me that as long as I didn’t want to, he would never force me to face his parents. But with Randall, I would always come second to Samantha. Thinking of the conversation I’d overheard not long ago in the obstetrics department, my mind suddenly shifted. “Fine. I’ll go.” I wanted to see for myself just how much filth the Hendershots and the Massrys were hiding beneath the surface. Samantha’s birthday “family dinner” was ultimately held at the Hendershots’s mountain estate. I sat at the very end of the long table, watching the two families laugh and exchange pleasantries, warm and familiar with one another. To them, my tragedy—and my brother’s—were nothing more than idle table talk, incapable of stirring even the slightest emotional ripple. My gaze swept over Randall’s father, then landed on Samantha’s mother. And that was when I noticed their feet entwined beneath the table. I tugged at the corner of my mouth and let out a quiet, mocking laugh. Just then, Jamey slowly lifted his wine glass, his smile thick and greasy. “Come now, Miss Barnhart,” he said. “Since we’re all sitting at the same table, there’s no need to keep such a long face.” His gaze openly traveled over me before finally settling on my bandaged hand. There wasn’t a shred of remorse in his tone. “Thank you for being sensible enough to withdraw the lawsuit.” “At the end of the day, making a big fuss doesn’t look good for anyone.” Catherine immediately followed up, her voice gentle and composed. “That’s right, Tara. You’re educated—you understand reason. Forcing people into a corner doesn’t do your reputation any favors either.” William also raised his glass and sighed. “Child, you have to learn to look forward in life.” “You’re not in great health right now. Clinging to these matters—what good does it do you?” Jamey’s smile grew even more self-satisfied, his tone practically condescending. “As for your hand, to be honest, you were just unlucky.” “Young people need to suffer a little, so they learn who they can’t afford to offend.” “Life can’t always go smoothly, can it?” He extended his glass toward me, his tone firm and final. “Come. Let’s have a toast.” “Once you drink this, we’ll consider the matter settled.”

My fingertips wouldn’t stop trembling. I used almost all my strength just to keep myself from losing control and standing up on the spot. The people who had pushed me to this point… How could they be so shameless, so self-righteous? This whole family was disgusting beyond words. Before I could explode, Samantha suddenly reddened her eyes. “Dad, please don’t say that.” Her voice was soft and delicate, carrying a hint of choking sobs. “Tara must be hurting so much inside.” “Why don’t we do this…” She stood up, as if she had finally made up her mind. “I’ll drink in Dad’s place.” As soon as she finished speaking, she downed three glasses in a row. The liquor slid down her throat, and an unnatural flush quickly spread across her face. Lucy immediately panicked. “Slow down, slow down. Don’t push yourself.” Samantha shook her head, clearly forcing herself to stay composed. “I’m fine.” “As long as Tara can calm down.” She poured another glass, held it with both hands, and offered it to me. Her eyes were red. “Tara.” “Could you give me this bit of face?” “I know you’ve been wronged, but things have already come to this.” “Just consider it for the sake of the child, okay?” Randall finally snapped out of it. He grabbed the glass from her hand, his voice rising sharply. “Are you crazy?” “You’re already—” He stopped himself abruptly. The words left unsaid were more brutal than if he had finished them. He looked down at her, his eyes filled with tenderness, his tone instantly softening. “You don’t have to do this.” But when he looked up at me again, all warmth vanished. What remained was irritation and judgment. “Tara.” “Samantha has gone this far. Uncle and Aunt have already lowered themselves. What more do you want?” “Haven’t you already agreed to drop the charges?” “Why are you still putting on airs?” “Do you enjoy watching everyone bow their heads to you?” He stepped forward, his voice cold, like issuing a final ultimatum. “Is drinking one glass really going to kill you?” He knew. He knew perfectly well. I had just undergone surgery. I couldn’t drink at all. But to everyone at this table, my body, my pain, my life meant nothing. What mattered was whether I would lift this so-called “reconciliation wine.” I couldn’t take it anymore. As the glass moved closer and closer, I raised my hand and knocked it away hard. The glass shattered. Liquor splashed everywhere. Samantha’s hand was cut. She screamed. Before I could even react, the next second, Randall’s slap landed across my face without mercy. I stood frozen, my ears ringing, my cheek burning. I hadn’t wanted to cry, but my eyes betrayed me, turning red anyway. Seven years together, and Randall had never laid a hand on me. The first time he did, it was for Samantha. My mind went blank. I turned, wanting only to leave. Behind me, Randall seemed to realize what he’d done. He shut his eyes in regret, then quickly chased after me. “Tara, I didn’t mean it. Don’t be mad.” He grabbed me, panic finally creeping into his voice. “This is a mountain resort. There are no cars outside. You can’t leave right now.” “Stay for now, okay?” “Be good. Once you calm down, I’ll explain everything.” I shook his hand off. I looked at him, then, right in front of his eyes, pulled the plain band off my finger and tossed it into the trash. Without another word, I went upstairs. “Tara!” Randall panicked and tried to follow, but Samantha called out to him. I watched him hesitate for a moment before turning back to the dining room. Downstairs, laughter soon resumed, as if nothing had happened. I let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh. What hope had I still been clinging to with this man? Taking a deep breath, I turned and walked toward Randall’s father’s room. I quietly placed the pinhole camera I had prepared long ago. When I returned to the guest room and tried to call a car to go home, I saw Samantha slip inside like a snake and shut the door with a click. She slowly turned around. The fake fragility was gone. What remained was smug provocation. “Tara, does it feel stifling?” She glanced at my phone lighting up and dimming again, the corners of her lips curling slightly. Her voice was so gentle it was almost pitying. “Were you trying to call someone to pick you up? Or looking for someone to back you up?” “You used to have that idiot brother who’d charge in for you. But now… he’s probably gone, huh?” “What a pity.” She sighed softly. “Your brother really had bad luck, getting stuck with a sister like you.” “If you’re going to spew nonsense, do it outside. Don’t stand in front of me and get in my way.” I stood up. I didn’t want to stay in the same room with her for another second. Samantha didn’t get angry at all. Her gaze slid from my face to the bandaged hand. “Tsk, tsk. Look at our doctor. That hand is seriously injured.” “Aunt Jaclyn was just saying earlier—this is perfect. Now, you won’t have to show your face everywhere anymore. You can stay home and be a useless person in peace. At least that way, you’re somewhat useful.” As if recalling something, she chuckled softly. “Did you know? They never really liked you.” “Country background, weak family, stubborn personality, and still insisting on clinging to Randall’s future. In their eyes, someone like you isn’t even qualified to be a daughter-in-law.” She stepped closer, superiority dripping from her tone. “But I’m different.” “The Hendershots has liked me since I was little. They’ve always believed I’m the one who truly belongs by Randall’s side.” My breathing grew heavy. My whole body began to tremble. Samantha looked as though she had been waiting for this moment. She slowly rested a hand on her abdomen. “You still don’t know, do you? This child inside me—” She smiled lightly, absolute confidence in her voice. “Randall is very satisfied.” “He said this is the child that should be born. The one everyone has been waiting for.” “As for that clump of flesh of yours that got taken care of like a dog—” “To put it bluntly, it’s a good thing it was never born.” “After all, even if it had been, it would’ve just been an unacknowledged bastard.” Her tone was casual, but every word was poison. “And your brother.” “Honestly, if he really dies, it’d be cleaner.” “A family like yours just drags people down. One less burden would actually make things easier.” She tilted her head, as if sincerely thinking it through for me. “Look at you. No child. No hand. No future. And soon, no brother holding you back—” At that moment, I couldn’t hear anything anymore. The world dissolved into a sharp, piercing hum. I lost all control. I raised my hand and slapped Samantha across the face with all my strength.

A sharp slap cracked through the room. The next second, the expression on Samantha’s face changed abruptly. She sucked in a sharp breath, her body tilting toward the window as if pulled by momentum. She clutched my wrist tightly, swaying on the edge, looking as though she might fall from the height at any moment. “Randall! Help!” She screamed, her voice shrill and full of terror. “Tara is trying to push me down! She’s trying to kill me!” My pupils shrank. My mind went completely blank. Before I could even react, the door was kicked open. Randall stormed in. Without a second of hesitation, he grabbed me and violently shoved me aside. I crashed hard onto the floor. My back went numb on impact, my vision darkening in waves. “Tara, have you lost your mind?!” His voice exploded with rage, as though years of suppressed fury had finally found an outlet. “You actually dared to lay a hand on Samantha?!” Samantha immediately collapsed into his arms, trembling all over, crying so hard she could barely breathe. “Randall… I was just trying to explain things to her. She suddenly hit me and said I deserved to die…” Her sobs broke apart. “I was so scared…” Randall lowered his head to look at her. The pain and tenderness in his eyes were almost overflowing. But when he lifted his gaze to me, every trace of warmth vanished, leaving only cold disgust. “Apologize.” His tone was icy, absolute. “Apologize to Samantha. Now.” I pushed myself up from the floor. My throat was tight, but my voice came out unnervingly steady. “Why should I apologize?” “She cursed my brother to die. She said I deserved to lose my hand, deserved to never have children—” “That’s enough!” Randall cut me off sharply, impatience written all over his face. “I don’t want to hear your excuses.” “You did something wrong. You apologize.” Cold spread through my entire body, but I stood straight. “I did nothing wrong.” Randall looked at me, the corner of his mouth twitching. His eyes were dark and bottomless. Right in front of me, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. “John.” His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “Remove Nik’s ventilator.” In that instant, my world collapsed. It felt as if my blood reversed course. I froze in place, unable even to breathe. “Randall!” I screamed until my chest tore apart. “Are you insane?! Do you know what you’re doing?!” He ended the call and looked down at me from above, his calm more terrifying than anger. “This is the price for disobedience.” “Attempted murder is still a crime. I’m teaching you to respect life.” I didn’t hear another word after that. I stared at his phone, my voice shattered into something barely human. “Don’t remove the ventilator…” “Please… don’t…” The call had already been cut off, clean and final. Randall looked down at me, his gaze as indifferent as if he were staring at a dog pinned by the throat. “Now,” he said, “you can apologize.” “Kneel.” “Apologize to Samantha.” “As long as she forgives you, I’ll have them put the ventilator back.” In that moment, dignity, pride, and self-respect were crushed into dust. I knew him too well. If Randall said it, he would do it. He truly did not care whether my brother lived or died. The sound of my knees hitting the floor was dull and deafening. “I’m sorry.” “It’s my fault.” I bowed again and again, my forehead nearly touching the ground. My voice shook uncontrollably as tears slammed down. “Please… spare my brother.” “I’m begging you… please…” Samantha said nothing. She stood there, looking down at me from above. After a long moment, she slowly pressed a hand to her stomach, her face turning pale. “Randall…” “My stomach hurts.” “Will the baby… be okay?” Randall’s expression changed instantly. He no longer spared me a glance. He scooped her up in his arms, panic and concern flooding his voice. “Come on. We’re going to the hospital.” I lunged forward like a madwoman, clutching desperately at the hem of his clothes. “Randall! Call them—” “Please, make the call first!” “Tell them to put the ventilator back… please!” He flung me away without hesitation, his eyes colder than ice. “Reflect properly on your mistakes.” I slammed to the ground. All I could do was watch as their figures disappeared through the doorway, the world falling silent around me. I collapsed onto the freezing floor, my fingers shaking so badly I could barely hold my phone. “Please… anyone… save my brother.” I unlocked the screen in a panic, my fingers randomly tapping through my contacts. I didn’t even see whose name it was before the call went through. Each ring felt like a hammer striking my heart. The next second, the call connected. “Hello?” The familiar voice broke me completely. “Senior—” “They’re pulling my brother’s ventilator…” “Randall has lost his mind. He really wants to kill my brother…” My words came out broken and incoherent. “Can you help me say something… please, ask the hospital to spare him…” “I’ll agree to anything. I really can’t hold on anymore…” “Tara.” My senior’s voice lowered. “Calm down and listen to me. I’m here. Your brother will be fine.” I heard him rapidly instruct his secretary to contact people for help, then he said quietly, “I’m not by your side right now, but you can use Erwin anytime.” There was a trace of gritted teeth in his voice. “I’ve already sent Erwin to pick you up.” “He’s nearby. He’ll be there soon.” “You don’t need to do anything. Just stay where you are and wait for him.” I opened my mouth, but my throat felt blocked. Only a faint, broken breath escaped. “Really… nothing will happen?” “I promise.” His voice was firm. At that moment, the tension holding me together finally snapped. My phone slipped from my hand. I slid down along the wall, tears pouring out uncontrollably, my sobs tearing free. My consciousness began to fade, my ears filled with nothing but my own frantic breathing. Before everything went dark, I heard his urgent voice through the phone. “Tara, hold on a little longer.” “Erwin will be there any second.” But I couldn’t hold on to anything anymore. When I opened my eyes again, it was already daylight. Sunlight filtered through the blinds in thin strips across the bedsheets. For a moment, I couldn’t tell where I was or what day it was. My whole body felt hollowed out, even breathing dull and painful. A note sat on the bedside table. The handwriting was clean and decisive. Erwin’s. It read: [Your brother is temporarily stable. I stayed with you all night. There’s an urgent matter at the company. I’ll be back as soon as I finish.] Something inside my chest seemed to lift slightly. I threw off the blanket and got out of bed, barefoot, heading straight out. I needed to see my brother immediately. Only by seeing him lying there, still breathing, could I truly relax. But the moment I pushed open his hospital room door, it was empty. My heart sank violently. My voice changed as I grabbed a passing nurse and asked where he was. Startled, the nurse stammered, “A pregnant woman just had massive bleeding and urgently needs a transfusion. The blood bank doesn’t have enough supply. Your brother’s blood type matches, so he was taken for a transfusion.” My head buzzed. I nearly screamed out of control. “He’s a patient! He’s the one lying in a hospital bed. What right do you have to take blood from a patient?!” The nurse turned pale. “It was an order from above. We’re just following instructions.” It had to be Randall. I didn’t even have time to put on my shoes. I turned and ran toward the operating room. I was running too fast. The hallway blurred and darkened before my eyes. Thankfully, I made it in time. I forced myself in front of the gurney, the wheels screeching as they stopped. I threw myself forward, gripping the edge with both hands until my knuckles turned white, my voice trembling beyond control. “He can’t give blood…” My words were chaotic, my breathing ragged, my vision darkening. “My brother is sick. If he gives blood… he’ll really die!” The next second, a brutal force struck from the side. Someone seized my wrist, squeezing so hard it felt like my bones would shatter. I let out a muffled cry of pain, forced to let go as I was violently flung aside. Randall burst out of the operating room, his face terrifyingly dark, violent fury surging in his eyes. “What are you making a scene for?!” His voice was cold and final, without the slightest hesitation. “This is what your brother owes Samantha.”

Randall stood beneath the light, staring at me coldly, as if he were judging a criminal. “If it weren’t for your bullying, how could Samantha have been frightened like that?” “She nearly miscarried just now. Do you have any idea?” When he said this, his voice was thick with barely suppressed anger—yet there wasn’t a trace of hesitation. “Now we’re only asking your brother to donate a little blood. What’s the big deal?” What’s the big deal? I looked at the man before me—the man I had loved for seven years, the man I had compromised for again and again, forgiven again and again—and suddenly he felt terrifyingly unfamiliar. That was when I finally lost control. “Randall, are you even human?” My voice trembled, but every word was bitten out hard. “That’s my brother. He’s still sick. A blood transfusion could kill him!” “For Samantha’s sake, you don’t even care about human life anymore?” “Where is your conscience, Randall?!” I was almost screaming. My chest felt like it had been ripped open alive, every breath tearing with pain. But Randall suddenly let out a cold laugh. There was no anger at being exposed, no shame at being condemned—only blatant impatience, like he was looking at a hysterical troublemaker. “Enough with the nonsense. You keep talking about me and Samantha, but I haven’t even asked you yet—who was the man who took you away last night?!” I froze. My heart clenched tightly. Instinctively, I thought he had found out about me asking Steven for help. Randall said coldly, “My mom said you were taken away by another man.” “So,” he stared at me icily, “all this drama lately—breaking up, withdrawing the lawsuit, losing control emotionally—isn’t it just because you’ve got someone else outside?” “You already planned yourself a way out, didn’t you? That’s why you dare to act so self-righteous now?” “Tara, have you forgotten who you are?” Sentence after sentence, pure distortion of the truth. All my breakdowns, my despair, my resistance after being driven into a corner—he reduced it all to one accusation: That I had cheated. I looked at him and suddenly wanted to laugh. But the laughter got stuck in my throat, no matter how hard I tried. In the end, all that remained was complete and utter shattering. “I fainted.” “If I hadn’t called for help myself, if I had waited for your parents to suddenly grow a conscience one day while I lay in your house, I might already be dead!” For a brief moment, Randall’s expression darkened. For that single second, I foolishly thought—did he finally feel guilty? But it really was only a second. Very quickly, he returned to that calm, matter-of-fact expression. “I don’t care.” He said it with unsettling composure, as if announcing a decision made long ago. “Right now, Samantha needs a blood transfusion.” “Your brother’s blood type is compatible. This is your punishment.” The moment those words landed, my entire body went cold. I clenched my teeth so hard my mouth filled with the taste of blood. “Then take mine!” “Take my blood!” “I have a rare blood type too!” For a brief instant, Randall’s gaze flickered. He hesitated. But soon enough, he looked away. He raised a hand in a small gesture, his tone cold and clipped. “In that case, take her over.” The next second, hospital staff restrained me and prepared me for the transfusion. The moment the needle pierced my vein, my body jolted violently. A chill shot straight up my spine. Cold fluid flowed out through the tube, and it felt as though I was being hollowed out, bit by bit. Halfway through, the doctor frowned and lowered his voice. “That’s already quite a lot. Her physical condition isn’t good. If we keep drawing—” “How much does Samantha need?” Randall interrupted him, not even glancing at me. The doctor hesitated. “In theory… the more, the better. It’ll be more stable.” “Then keep drawing.” Randall’s voice was flat, devoid of any emotion. “Don’t stop.” At that moment, I didn’t even have the strength to open my eyes. Cold spread through me. My vision blurred in waves. The sounds around me felt muffled, as if filtered through water. As my blood was drained away bit by bit, my consciousness collapsed inch by inch with it. Just as I was about to pass out completely, a hand suddenly covered mine, gripping my palm. Randall lowered his head, his voice pressed low. As though he were granting me the last scraps of tenderness. “This is the last time, Tara.” “Once we get married, everything will get better.” “Just endure it.” I kept my eyes closed. I didn’t answer. I didn’t even have the strength to answer. Because at that very moment, the last remaining fragment of feeling I had for him shattered completely. As soon as the procedure ended, Randall immediately went to attend to Samantha. I was pushed into a ward and slept for an entire day. When I woke up again, there was no emotion left in me—only a firm resolve to repay everything in kind. Three days before I left, behind Randall’s back, Erwin and I successfully sent my brother abroad and transferred him to an extremely private hospital. Two days before I left, I retrieved the surveillance footage that had previously been installed in the Hendershots household. The recordings clearly captured the affair between William and Samantha’s mother—and even accidentally recorded them talking about their illegitimate child outside the marriage. I anonymously sent the video to everyone in both the Hendershots and Massrys, and simultaneously forwarded it to several reporters. On the morning of my final day, I posted a scheduled thread on the hospital’s internal forum. I wrote in detail how, as an ophthalmologist, my hands—the very hands I relied on to survive—had been systematically destroyed. And how there was a certain type of eye surgery that, at present, only I was capable of performing in the entire country. At the same time, I submitted to the court all the evidence regarding my lawsuit against Samantha’s father, as well as proof of Randall’s intent to endanger my brother’s life. During those three days, Randall stayed by Samantha’s side the entire time, accompanying her through her pregnancy stabilization. If he had spared even a little attention for me, things would never have gone this smoothly.

That night, I went back to the apartment I had once shared with Randall. I walked straight into the bedroom and began clearing out my things, one item at a time. A few pieces of clothing he had personally picked out for me were still hanging in the closet. In the far corner of the bookshelf was a photo of us from the year we first got together. I didn’t pause. I didn’t hesitate. Anything that could be thrown away, I tossed. Everything else went into boxes. I was halfway through packing when I heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. Randall walked in—with Samantha. When he saw me standing in the living room, he froze. His expression stiffened for a split second, clearly caught off guard. “Why are you—” He stopped himself and quickly recovered, as if afraid I might misunderstand. “Samantha isn’t feeling well, so I asked her to stay here for a few days.” “Her family’s out of town, and the nanny isn’t around. It’s easier for me to keep an eye on her here.” He added another sentence, his tone carrying a hint of nervousness he didn’t even seem aware of. “It’ll only be a few days. Don’t take it the wrong way.” I zipped the suitcase shut, looked up at him, and spoke calmly. “I understand.” Randall was visibly stunned. My composure unsettled him. “You…” He opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say next. Just as the atmosphere grew tense, Samantha suddenly spoke softly. “Randall, I’m a little hungry. Could you make something for me?” He didn’t hesitate for even a second. “Okay. Sit down and rest.” It was the first time he had ever cooked in this apartment. For another woman. Before heading into the kitchen, he seemed to remember something and casually asked me, “Do you want to eat something too?” I took a deep breath. “No.” I hadn’t eaten food he made before. There was no reason to start now. The moment the kitchen door closed, the weakness on Samantha’s face vanished. She looked at me coldly, her voice filled with undisguised disdain. “Why are you so clueless? I wanted some alone time with my brother.” I was exhausted and didn’t feel like engaging. “I’ll be leaving soon.” “Don’t worry. I won’t bother you.” She smiled instead. “I don’t believe you.” “I prefer kicking out people I don’t like myself.” Before I could react, she suddenly reached out and grabbed me. I hadn’t even processed what was happening when she yanked me hard backward. As I lost my balance, she used me as a cushion, slamming me straight into the coffee table. The vase on the table shattered against my back. Cold porcelain shards and water exploded everywhere. I let out a muffled groan. It felt like my back had been torn open, a burning pain ripping through me as blood quickly ran down my spine. I braced myself against the sofa, clenching my teeth just to stay upright. “Samantha, are you insane?!” Samantha, who had been on top of me, was completely unharmed. She collapsed onto the floor, her voice suddenly piercingly loud. “Ah!” “What are you doing, pushing me?!” “It hurts… my leg!” She cried helplessly, pitiful and wronged, as if she had suffered some enormous injustice. The kitchen door flew open. Randall rushed out. The moment he took in the scene, his expression darkened to its lowest point. He strode over, scooped Samantha up in his arms, and checked her injuries, his voice tightly restrained with anger. “Where are you hurt?” When he looked up at me again, there was nothing in his eyes but disgust. “Have you lost your mind?!” “Tara, how much longer are you going to keep this up?!” My back throbbed with numb pain as I replied coldly, “I didn’t push her.” Randall didn’t want to hear it. “You make me sick.” “Tara, let me make this clear.” “From today on, I won’t pay a single cent for your brother’s medical bills.” “When you finally realize how wrong you’ve been, I’ll consider restoring them.” He didn’t know that my brother had already been transferred. Maybe because I was about to leave, I suddenly felt that if I didn’t say certain things now, I’d regret it. “Randall.” I called out to him softly. “If I say I didn’t push her, would you believe me?” I reached up and pulled open my coat. My back was exposed to the air. The wounds carved open by shattered porcelain were horrifying—blood mixed with water and grime, an appalling sight. Compared to the faint, deliberately manufactured redness on Samantha, it was like night and day. Randall’s pupils shrank sharply. He took two unconscious steps toward me, his Adam’s apple bobbing, a flicker of concern flashing in his eyes. He was about to say something. But in the next second, Samantha whimpered softly in his arms. “Randall… she really did drag me down with her.” “My stomach hurts so much…” Randall stopped. He tightened his hold around her and his voice turned cold again. “Stop pretending. Do you think this is enough to frame her?” “I know exactly what kind of person Samantha is.” He turned and walked out without sparing me another glance. When the door closed, I suddenly laughed. My mind went completely blank. I changed into clean clothes and went straight to the airport, boarding the next flight out. Everything else, I handed over to Erwin. As the plane took off, I looked out the window at the city shrinking into the distance, an unexpected calm settling over me. ‘Randall, I hope you’ll be very surprised when you receive the gift I left behind tomorrow.’