In five years of marriage, I had caught my husband with 99 paramours. When I was heavily pregnant, his hundredth little vixen offended our biggest client. To salvage the crucial project, Jack demanded that I, instead of her, walk to the client's estate and beg for forgiveness on bended knee. In the torrential rain, I sobbed, my voice trembling: "The child is seven months old. A twenty-mile walk in such a downpour… the baby won't survive this—" He slapped me impatiently, knocking me to the ground. "A few steps and you're wailing like a banshee! What a performance! Aren't you from the Northern Peaks?" He shoved me into the pouring rain, forcing me to prostrate myself every three steps. Blood streamed from between my legs, washing into crimson rivulets on the soaked ground. Inside the carriage, his little vixen, Lady Seraphina, looked utterly disgusted. "Didn't even bother to use a proper cloth during her monthly flow. Disgusting." I walked to the brink of death, giving birth prematurely to a daughter barely three pounds. When Dowager Countess Thorne rushed to my side, I used my last ounce of strength to beg her. "The Thorne family's grace, in sponsoring my education, has been fully repaid with this child. Can I finally be free now?" 1 "Clara, my dear, have you made up your mind? Jack, he's just lost his way for a time; he's not truly himself. Could you possibly…" Dowager Countess Thorne choked back tears, her face etched with sorrow and a reluctance to accept my decision. The news report on the television happened to be broadcasting the Thorne Holdings Annual Gala, capturing our attention. Jack, with his hundredth paramour, Lady Seraphina, attended the event. On screen, their fingers were intertwined, the ruby engagement ring on Seraphina's left hand drawing every eye. Their intimate posture garnered all the flashing lights. The Thorne Holdings directors bowed and scraped before Seraphina, their flattery oozing. "Whoever spread rumors that Lord Jack treats his lady wife poorly should see this! He keeps her by his side, even at the company gala. A match made in heaven, envied by all!" The words "lady wife" struck a chord in Seraphina's heart, deepening her smile, her cheeks flushing with vibrant color. Other employees immediately followed suit, eagerly egging them on. "Angels descended! Come, show us your affection! A kiss! A kiss!" Jack’s lips curved into a smirk. He didn’t rebuke his subordinates. Instead, he embraced Seraphina and passionately kissed her. Dowager Countess Thorne froze, then quickly grabbed the remote and turned off the television. She looked at me, her face filled with shame, her voice softening. "Clara, alas, it's all my fault for my misguided good intentions. I believed you two were meant for each other, and instead, I've harmed you. You owe the Thorne family nothing more, my dear. Go. Go anywhere you wish!" Dowager Countess Thorne’s calloused hand gently caressed my cheek, but I couldn't shed a single tear. In five years of marriage, my tears had long since dried. "You haven't seen the child yet…" Dowager Countess Thorne’s hand paused. My heart, like a heavy stone suspended in air, suddenly plummeted. Smashing, leaving a bloody mess. My own flesh and blood, born at seven months, after half my life force was spent. How could I abandon her, just like that? In a daze, the nurse brought the baby into the room. "Baby's mother, look how adorable your little one is. Though she's small, she's…" "No, I don't want to see her!" I sharply turned my head, staring out the window, desperately trying to prevent myself from looking at the tiny bundle wrapped in pink. Clenching my fists, I told myself not to yield. Clara, your freedom lies beyond that window. Nothing can keep you rooted here. The nurse stood frozen, unsure what to do. Dowager Countess Thorne sighed, shook her head, and signaled her to take the child away. When the room was left to just the two of us again, she wiped away her tears and reluctantly dialed Jack’s number. His voice on the other end was still somewhat gentle; after all, his grandmother was now his only true kin. "Grandmother, I'm busy with work. You know how it is, end of the year, lots of company matters. I'll be home soon…" "Silence! Are you going to lie to your grandmother’s face now? The news is filled with you and that disreputable woman!" Jack fell silent for a moment, then spoke, his voice dripping with scorn. "Grandmother, your eyesight isn't what it used to be. How long has it been since you watched television? Clara, that wretched woman, must have fed you this nonsense, didn't she?" "Is that wretched Clara right there beside you? Let her listen!" I switched on the speakerphone. My tears silently fell onto the receiver. From the other end of the line, amidst the background sound of a woman sobbing, came Jack’s utterly insulting curses. Dowager Countess Thorne’s eyes were red-rimmed, her hand trembling slightly. "Clara, my dear, finish your confinement, and then leave the Thorne estate." 2 When I was discharged, Jack didn't come to pick me up. But, unexpectedly, he ordered a bouquet of flowers for me. In five years of marriage, he had sent countless flowers to every paramour, yet I, his lawful wife, was receiving them for the first time. In the past, even if he had casually tossed me a simple card, I would have treasured it, framed it, and collected it. But faced with the huge bouquet of lilies, I simply refused to sign for them. Jack, upon hearing this, exploded in a fit of rage, his voice booming from the delivery man’s phone. "Clara, you ungrateful wretch! I'd sooner throw money at a dog than give it to you!" He had no idea I was allergic to lilies; the pollen would cause severe breathing difficulties. During dinner, Jack suddenly returned to the Thorne estate with Lady Seraphina. I treated them as if they were invisible, continuing to eat without a care. Jack, seeing my indifference but unable to erupt, fumed and stomped out to the balcony to smoke. Seraphina, her stilettos clicking, swayed her hips like a viper and sat beside me. "Still have an appetite? Look at that waist; you're as plump and greasy as a sow." "And I hear women who've birthed children are loose and dry down there, can't even hold a quill." "In your state, do you truly have the nerve to cling to the title of Lady Thorne?" Seraphina’s mocking tone was utterly transparent. Usually, faced with such provocation, I would have erupted in fury and retorted immediately. But today, I acted as if I were deaf, not even sparing her a glance. I sat steadily, continuing to serve myself and eat. She froze for a moment, then suddenly forced a laugh. "Oh, playing the indifferent one, are we? Let’s see how long you can keep that up!" With that, she overturned the entire pot of soup onto herself, then, before I could react, shoved the basin into my hands and shrieked. "Lady Clara, I merely admire Lord Jack! What's wrong with love? You can hit me, curse me, but why would you ruin my face…?" Seraphina was a minor socialite, attracting followers with her striking beauty—her greatest asset. She had scalded her skin below the neck a vivid red, leaving her drenched and utterly pitiful. I heard a stir from the balcony. Jack was coming inside. Before, facing such blatant setups, I would panic, desperate to defend myself, but all I ever received was Jack’s cold mockery. Today, I held the soup basin steadily, and with Jack witnessing it firsthand, I deliberately smashed the ceramic pot onto Seraphina’s body. Jack roared, striking me with a forceful slap. "Wretch! How could my noble Thorne family have such a petty, ungrateful fool as its lady of the house!" I was knocked to the ground, the scattered ceramic shards slicing into me, leaving dozens of bleeding wounds. My body was instantly drenched in blood. Pain consumed my entire being, and all I could hear was Jack’s furious roars. "Clara, I told you to apologize to Seraphina! Are you deaf?" I lowered my head, a silent, cold laugh on my lips as I gazed at the bleeding wounds. Jack, enraged, kicked me in the lower back, then grabbed my neck, forcing my face close to Seraphina. The woman’s beautiful, yet arrogant, face filled my vision, her triumphant smirk utterly brazen. An apology, is it? The next second, I sprang to my feet, systematically pouring the dishes from the table over my head, then forcefully smashing the empty ceramic vessels against myself. The hot liquid mixed with blood stung the wounds, a searing pain, but it paled in comparison to the ache in my heart. "How's that? Is this apology heartfelt enough? Or do you still find it lacking…" "Clara, have you gone mad!" Jack saw my bruised and battered body. A flicker of pain crossed his eyes, and he violently seized my hands, stopping me from harming myself further. "Stop it right now!" The arm he gripped was covered in unhealed needle marks. Jack’s eyes widened, his lips trembling slightly. "What's this? Why so many needle marks?" In five years of marriage, Jack’s affairs far outnumbered his times returning home for dinner. The title of Thorne Holdings' patriarch naturally attracted not ordinary flings, but cunning, ruthless women, all with the courage and means to scheme and plot to replace me as Lady Thorne. Every time I was directly harmed, or when Jack hurt me on their behalf, the immense physical and mental anguish forced me to seek relief from pain medication. Jack stared blankly at the needle marks, then his face quickly turned to one of disdain. He flung my arm away, looking at me with disgust and contempt. "Well, Clara, you're certainly getting clever. Resorting to playing the martyr now, are we? Let me tell you, feigning illness won't work on me!" I was thrown to the ground again. My palm, bracing my fall, was covered in blood from fresh cuts, but I was already numb to the pain. Anyway, my confinement period would be over in half a month. 3 After Jack took Seraphina to the hospital, I sat numbly in the drawing-room. My fingers instinctively traced the wedding ring on my ring finger. This was the only tangible proof of my title as Lady Thorne. The ill-fitting ring was bound with several wraps of crimson thread, barely allowing it to stay on my finger. But five years had passed, and the gold plating had faded, revealing the silver beneath. When we bought the wedding ring back then, the sales assistant’s gaze at me was filled with disdain. "Such a wealthy and generous husband wouldn't be unwilling to buy something better. He must have been forced into marriage, just casually making a token gesture. This woman is truly pitiful." But I had happily accepted the ring Jack had personally chosen, never taking it off. I had asked him to wear the male wedding ring, but he refused. When I persisted, he simply claimed he had lost it. And so, for five years, his hand remained bare, as if he had never been bound by this marriage at all. I cut the red thread and took off the ring. From behind me, Jack’s cold sneer broke the silence. "Finally willing to take it off? Wasn't it 'cherished until death do us part'?" He walked in, puffing on a pipe, smoke curling around him, and eyed me disdainfully. His expression at that moment instantly transported me back to our wedding day, when he brought his first mistress into our bridal chamber. I had dragged the mistress out by her hair. Jack had watched with the same detached indifference, pipe in mouth. "Go on, hit her. Hit as hard as you like. The Thorne family has plenty of coin for compensation." "For every one you strike down, I'll take ten more. There are plenty of women in the world; I can be a groom every night." I used to hate Jack like this the most—always causing a scandal, yet remaining aloof, leaving me to be the desperate, defeated wretch. But, I was leaving. It no longer mattered. I walked around him, heading straight into the dressing room to pack my luggage. Jack rushed in, agitated, and pushed my suitcase away. "Packing what? Leaving?" Was there panic in his eyes? How laughable. I sidestepped him, my voice calm. "It's too cold. I'm going to a warm springs retreat with a good friend." Jack visibly relaxed. While I was bathing, amidst the steam, Jack pushed open the bathroom door and walked in. He said he'd help me wash, as an apology for the day. I immediately wrapped myself in my bathrobe, recoiling from him in disgust. "Save your services for your little vixens; I don't want them!" Jack’s face turned livid. He sneered. "Clara, what are you playing at, being a saint? A woman with a temper, isn't it just because her man isn't putting in enough effort in bed? Your husband will love you fiercely tonight!" He seized my waist, ripped open my bathrobe, and buried his face downwards. "Get out! Don't touch me!" I struggled wildly, lifting my knee to strike at his groin. Jack dodged my attack, his eyes bloodshot with rage. He violently smashed the bottles and jars in the bathroom to the floor. "Fine! If you're not willing, there are plenty of others waiting!" Jack stormed out, slamming the door. I clutched my bathrobe tightly, curling into a ball, and fell into an uneasy sleep. In the dead of night, from the other side of the wall by my headboard, came rhythmic, intimate sounds, jarring me awake. Following closely, the man’s playful laughter and the woman’s moans seeped into my ears. The room next door was the nursery, prepared for the newborn. Jack was deliberately trying to sicken me. The door was wide open. I walked directly to them, staring at their entangled forms without blinking. Jack turned, saw my indifferent expression, and his face twisted. He roared at me to get out. My eyes stung with unshed tears. But it didn't matter. Out of sight, out of mind. It would all be over soon. 4 With my luggage, I left the Thorne estate and found a cheap inn to stay in. The next morning, someone pounded fiercely on my inn room door, waking me. After checking in yesterday, I had only given my address to my closest friend, Lady Eleanor. Opening the door, she stood there, her face anxious, holding up her mobile device for me to see. News of Jack’s infidelity and my forced departure had exploded across the entire network. #LordThorneSeeksThrillsWithParamourAsLadyOfTheManorSuffers #LadyThorneHumiliated,FleesInTheNight Lady Seraphina, a minor socialite with some online notoriety, instantly became a public enemy, savagely attacked by keyboard warriors. Oh, this trick again. He’s deliberately orchestrating this, isn't he? And boosting his own visibility at the same time, I suppose. After all, infamy is still fame. But Jack, lost in his own schemes, saw me and, without a word, slapped me. "Clara, you venomous viper with a heart of vipers! No wonder you pretended not to care last night! You knew the scribes would be snapping pictures! You want to ruin Seraphina!" "You've driven her to the brink of exile from society, and she still says she doesn't blame you! How can you be so ruthless!" "Come with me to Seraphina's press conference right now! Apologize to her publicly and tell everyone she's innocent!" Innocent? I touched my stinging cheek, a laugh bubbling up. "Whether she is innocent or not, isn't that for you to decide, not me?" Jack refused to listen to a single word. He seized my collar and dragged me towards the press conference. Seraphina’s face was unadorned, her eyes swollen and red like walnuts. She bowed at a ninety-degree angle, offering an apology. Seeing my appearance, reporters immediately swarmed around. "Lady Thorne, did you orchestrate those intimate images?" "Lady Thorne, did Lady Seraphina truly interfere in your marriage with Lord Jack?" Jack, standing beside me, glared at me with eyes as cold as ice. I offered a faint smile, stepped forward, and helped Seraphina to her feet. "Lady Seraphina, you have suffered undue distress. It is all my fault." Then I lowered my head and bowed. "Lady Seraphina is innocent; she is not a mistress. I am the hateful one, who deliberately forged images and fabricated false news to gain favor." With that, I slapped myself across the face. "Lady Seraphina and my husband are simply business associates. It was my strong jealousy that led me to frame her. I am a despicable wretch." Then I slapped myself on the other cheek. Seraphina trembled, watching me in terror. "Such a terrifying woman! She appears to apologize, but in reality, she's constantly mocking and threatening!" Someone in the audience shouted loudly, speaking up for Seraphina. She conveniently buckled at the knees, collapsing onto the ground, looking as if she were about to faint. Jack lunged forward, sweeping her into his arms, then glared at me. "Clara, kneel! Apologize properly!" Seraphina, still clutched in his arms, distinctly flashed a look of triumph at me. I suddenly recalled that desperate kneeling in the torrential rain half a month ago, which not only caused my premature labor but also made me the laughingstock of the entire city. Now, under hundreds of lenses, if I were to kneel before Seraphina, I would completely lose all dignity. Jack’s lips curved into a cold sneer. He had someone bring Lady Eleanor’s employee badge from Thorne Holdings and threw it at my feet. The meaning was clear. Obey and kneel, or save my friend’s livelihood. A choice between the two. I raised my head, refusing to let tears fall. My knees slowly descended to the ground. The crowd erupted in murmurs. I spoke, my voice hoarse. "I, Clara Miller, was a student from the impoverished Northern Peaks, aided by the Thorne Charitable Bursary. Years ago, I saved Dowager Countess Thorne's life." "It was I who wished to rise above my station, leveraging that debt of gratitude to force Jack Thorne to break off his true affection with Lady Seraphina and take me as his wife." Jack stared at me in disbelief, as if he hadn't imagined I would so thoroughly sacrifice my own reputation to validate their connection. And then, the tears I had desperately held back finally streamed down my cheeks. All debts to the Thorne family, cancelled. After the press conference, Jack didn’t see me. Throughout the night, his heart pounded erratically, and his eye twitched incessantly. All he saw before him was my face as I knelt in the pouring rain, and as I knelt before Seraphina at the press conference. A face that had moved from despair to a haunting tranquility. Just as he could no longer bear it and was about to rush out to find me, his secretary burst in. "Lord Jack, something terrible has happened! Lady Clara… she has fallen from the cliffs!"
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