1 The day the Blackwoods came for Ethan, a car crash shattered my world. The driver, heiress Isabelle Thorne, arrived at my hospital bed begging to marry him to avoid scandal. Ethan refused, tearing up the contract. Enraged, Isabelle ripped the oxygen tube from my nose, sneering that he would never marry a "vegetable" from the orphanage. Ethan threw her down the stairs, breaking her legs, and vowed revenge. Over the next three years, he destroyed the Thorne family. Once bankrupt, they handed Isabelle over to him. He forced her to be my caretaker, punishing her cruelly for any harm that came to me. But one day, after she scalded my hand with boiling water again, he forced her onto the floor beside my bed. As their bodies tangled, she gasped, "What if I get pregnant? Is this still revenge?" "Exactly," he replied coldly. "You'll have the baby. I will torture you forever." When they finished, I slowly opened my eyes, tears streaming down my face. After four years in a coma, I knew the truth: Ethan had fallen in love with her. … “I told you, I could get pregnant!” “Ethan, can’t you be a little gentler? We’re not even married, don’t knock me up just yet.” The woman’s soft cries and struggles sounded less like resistance and more like the playful banter of lovers. My vision was blurry, clouded by a film of tears. As a sliver of light pierced the haze, I heard a familiar, husky laugh. “I don’t need to be gentle with you. I want you to feel the pain.” “I’m never letting you go.” As Ethan moved, the cloying, intimate scent of their passion drifted towards me. After four years in a coma, the first thing I smelled upon waking was her perfume clinging to his skin. “Take good care of Lily,” he commanded. “Next time, I won’t let you off so easily, no matter how much you beg.” Isabelle laughed, gathering her clothes from the floor and carelessly wiping the moisture from her body. “You’re a real sicko, Ethan.” A moment later, the curtain draped around my bed was pulled aside. The instant he saw me, someone’s breathing grew ragged and heavy. “Lily!” “Doctor! Get the doctor up here, now!” Ethan frantically shoved Isabelle aside, a raw, uncontainable joy exploding across his face. Covered in the marks of their lovemaking, Isabelle met my gaze and a triumphant smile spread across her lips. “Well, look who’s awake. Lily.” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I shouldn’t have woken up. In these four years… something had fundamentally changed. The Blackwood mansion wasn’t like the orphanage; the family doctor was there in minutes. “It’s a miracle! An absolute miracle!” the doctor exclaimed. “Miss Chen is truly awake.” At his words, a radiant smile lit up Ethan’s face. “Lily, this is amazing,” he whispered, kneeling down and pressing his face against the back of my hand, his voice thick with reverence. “I was so afraid you’d never wake up, that you’d leave me all alone.” For a fleeting moment, I was lost in a daze. How did someone like Ethan end up growing up with me? I first met him at Havenwood Orphanage when I was three. He’d been kidnapped. After the ransom was paid, his abductors turned on each other over the money. Four-year-old Ethan was injured in the crossfire and left for dead on the side of the road. By the time the Blackwoods arrived, all they found were the kidnappers’ bodies and a pool of Ethan’s blood. They assumed the worst. A few days later, villagers found him and brought him to the orphanage. He couldn’t remember his name or his parents. With a scar on his forehead, he became Leo of Havenwood Orphanage. We grew up together, leaving at eighteen to make our own way in the world. I remember, right before the accident, he had just rented a small, cozy apartment for us. I’d just gotten into a good college. Staring blankly at my own hand, my gaze drifted back to Ethan. A button was missing from his shirt, torn off in the heat of passion, now lost somewhere on the floor. This wasn’t Leo, the boy who swore he’d marry me as soon as he earned enough money. This was Ethan Blackwood, the heir to the Blackwood fortune. I tried to pull my hand away, but he sensed the movement and gripped it tighter. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly. “Lily, don’t worry. You’ve been unconscious for so long, it’s normal to have trouble moving. After a full check-up, I’ll arrange for the best physical therapists to help you. You’ll make a full recovery.” My hand trembled as I looked past him. Isabelle was staring at me. Noticing my gaze, Ethan instinctively moved to block her from my sight. “She won’t hurt you again,” he promised. “I’ve already made her life a living hell. She can’t hurt you anymore.” He leaned in, kissing my forehead as if to shield me from some unseen threat. But as he pulled back, I saw it—a smudge of crimson at the corner of his mouth. Isabelle’s lipstick. As he kissed me, the reflection in his eyes showed a faint red mark now transferred to my own skin. Filthy. I tried to form the word, but my voice was gone. A cold draft seemed to blow through my chest. In the suffocating silence, I let my eyelids fall shut. My heart seized, twisting in a knot of pure agony. I closed my eyes again. Ethan would never know. For the past four years, while my body was still, my mind was awake. I heard every word he and Isabelle spoke in front of me, every sound of their lovemaking. He was lying to me. Seeing me close my eyes, Ethan frowned and glanced over his shoulder. He saw Isabelle and assumed I was afraid, his voice laced with panic as he tried to explain. “You don’t want to see her, do you? Don’t worry, I’ll send her to one of the other houses. She won’t stay here.” “She has nowhere else to go but by my side,” he added quickly. “I’m keeping her close… to torture her. For you.” The pain in my chest was so sharp it felt like a physical blow. I tried to turn away, but my body wouldn't obey. Isabelle took a silent step forward, but Ethan shielded me from her. With a cold expression, she turned and walked out of the room. Just as the door was about to slam shut, her voice cut through the air. “Ethan, I’m pregnant.” “And it’s yours.” For a second, Ethan’s face was a complete blank. I saw his fingers, hanging by his side, twitch as if wanting to reach for her retreating figure. Finally, he turned back to me. His expression was gentle, as if nothing had happened. “Lily, I have something to tell you.” “I’ve been waiting for you all these years. I made her pay. The Thorne family is bankrupt, her parents are overseas… she’s been abandoned.” “Listen to me…” He rambled on, recounting every detail of the three years I had missed. But he didn't seem to notice how often Isabelle's name slipped from his lips. “Isabelle is so stupid. Such a spoiled little princess, so easy to fool.” “If this wasn't a civilized society, I would have played her to death.” “You have no idea how satisfying it was to see her kneeling and begging me for mercy.” He let out a short, harsh laugh, then his eyes lit up as if remembering something. “Lily, I took pictures. Let me go get them.” My fingers twitched. I wanted to stop him, but before I could summon the strength, the corner of his shirt disappeared from view. None of that mattered anymore. My eyes burned as I stared at the ceiling. Ethan was just like he’d always been, deliberately changing the subject when things got uncomfortable. He hadn’t even realized it himself—the flicker of joy on his face when Isabelle announced her pregnancy. I knew she was trying to provoke me, but Ethan’s smile… that wasn’t fake. Lying in bed, I tried to shift my body and froze. A needle. Isabelle had hidden a needle in my mattress. It pricked my skin. She always did this when no one was looking, these small, secret acts of torture. A pinprick is just a tiny red dot. Ethan would never check me that closely… no one would ever know. And even if they did… My thoughts were interrupted by hushed whispers from the hallway. “That woman’s awake. Miss Thorne was so close to marrying Mr. Blackwood.” “Miss Thorne is pregnant. You think a vegetable means more to him than that?” “What punishment? He’s just in denial. It’s love. He just needs someone to spell it out for him.” Turning my head was an immense effort. After being comatose for so long, opening my eyes and wiggling my fingers was my limit. The maids giggled as they looked my way. A stabbing pain shot through my heart, and I could barely breathe. “What are you all talking about?!” A furious roar made them all jump. Ethan was standing right behind them, his face dark as a storm cloud. He glared at the woman who had spoken first. “You’re all fired. See my secretary on your way out to collect your pay.” I watched him quietly. He still defended me unconditionally, just like before. But the old Ethan, the old Leo, would never have dodged my questions. When they were gone, he buried his face in my neck, his touch gentle. The tickle of his hair was a familiar comfort, but his next words were a betrayal. He held me tight, his voice low. “Lily, the baby was an accident.” “I’ll make Isabelle get an abortion.” His eyes were firm, but as I struggled to turn my face towards him, he covered my eyes with his hand. “But Lily… Isabelle has had a few miscarriages before. I… took her to the clinic each time.” “The doctor said this might be her last chance to have a child.” His breath ghosted over my hair as he spoke softly. “The doctor also said… your injuries from the accident were severe.” “We might… we might never be able to have children of our own.” “I want to…” My blinking fluttered against his palm. Before he could finish, the hand he held began to trace letters into his skin, one painstaking stroke at a time. “O. K.” I blinked again, a silent nod. Ethan went rigid, as if he couldn’t believe it. I slowly spelled it out in his palm a second time. By the third time, a tremor ran through him. He was speechless for a long time. “Lily… I’ll make it up to you. In the future.” The future? There was no future for us. In the long years he spent waiting for me, he had already fallen for that arrogant, beautiful monster. The moment the scales tipped in Isabelle’s favor, I knew. I had lost. Ethan wanted to keep that child. It was the fruit of their love. For the next two weeks, Ethan spent every spare moment with me during my physical therapy. I progressed from wiggling my fingers and blinking to being able to sit in a wheelchair and control my facial expressions. But I still couldn’t speak. The recovery of my speech was agonizingly slow. I communicated mostly by blinking or slowly tracing letters into Ethan’s palm. By the time I could stand on my own, a month and a half had passed. Ethan was working late in his study. I shuffled toward the door, my body trembling as I clung to the wall for support. “Just focus on the pregnancy,” I heard him say. “Don’t worry about anything else.” “I’ll help you with the Thorne family’s overseas ventures. They’re already breaking into new markets.” I froze, the blood turning to ice in my veins as I stared at the sliver of light under the door. Before I could process it, my phone buzzed with two new messages. The notification sound was jarringly loud in the empty hallway. My eyes fell to the screen. It was Isabelle. An unknown number had sent a voice message and a photo. “This was my first time getting pregnant. We’d been trying for a while.” “He’s very excited about this baby.” It was her voice. Ethan hadn’t made her get an abortion. He hadn’t even sent her away. Isabelle was living in another one of his mansions. One bigger and more luxurious than this one. She didn’t have to wait on me anymore; now, others waited on her. Her voice message was laced with triumphant laughter. “Ethan could never bear to make me get an abortion. He’ll take very good care of me.” “He comes to see me in secret all the time.” I fled from the study door, my phone vibrating relentlessly in my hand. “A cripple who can’t even walk or talk.” “You think I’m not good enough for Ethan? What does that make you? Waking up is even more miserable than being a vegetable, isn’t it?” “The first time we were together… he was the one who initiated it.” My eyes burned, a sharp pain lancing through my chest. Isabelle knew I wouldn’t reply. After her tirade, she let out a condescending laugh. “Delete all these messages.” “Or I’ll have that pathetic little Havenwood Orphanage of yours shut down.” A violent tremor shot through me. A flood of images filled my mind: Mama Rose, a tiny version of me, and a little boy named Leo. He wasn’t Ethan yet. That was where we grew up together. I had told him once that after I graduated, I wanted to go back to Havenwood. He had pressed a popsicle into my hand and ruffled my hair, a wide grin on his face. “Okay. And if I were a rich man, I’d donate tons and tons of money to Havenwood.” “We’d hire twenty nannies to take care of the kids.” “You’d be the beautiful Mama Lily, and I’d be Papa Leo.” The memory was a distant, muffled echo. My hands shook as I typed out a reply, one character at a time. “I’ll tell Ethan.” The person on the other end seemed to hesitate. But a few seconds later, the screen lit up with an incoming call. I answered. Isabelle’s voice was dripping with arrogance. “He already knows.” “He knew when I kicked out your precious Mama Rose and all those other paupers.” “In fact, Ethan helped me. Do you want to go see for yourself?” Her voice was a seductive whisper. I froze. After a long pause, I lowered my head and began deleting her messages, one by one. “Okay.” After Ethan’s car left the mansion, Isabelle arrived at the front door. The maids were clearly familiar with her, taking her coat and offering her a small, exquisite cake. One of them noticed me watching and smirked. “Mr. Blackwood’s special order. For… Miss Thorne. Her favorite cake, made by a chef from Europe.” “Maybe Miss Thorne will be moving back in soon.” “This isn’t for you. You shouldn’t eat it anyway.” I tore my gaze away. When she was ready, she easily led me out of the mansion. No one stopped us. I was bundled into her car, the maids watching us go as if they saw nothing. The car stopped. I was pushed out onto a familiar stone path. I looked up, and a high heel pressed down hard on my back. “Take a good look,” Isabelle sneered. “This is your precious Havenwood.” A roar filled my ears. My breath caught in my throat, the pain suffocating me. The old, dilapidated building, the once-neat vegetable patch now choked with weeds. Through the fence, I saw a few gaunt children. One of them spilled a bucket of water and was immediately slapped by a caretaker. “You little brat! Are you blind?!” This wasn’t my home. This wasn’t Mama Rose’s home. It was all wrong. Where was Mama Rose? I frantically searched, and Isabelle noticed my desperate movements. She leaned down. “Looking for that old hag?” “She didn’t want to ‘retire’ and hand the orphanage over to me. So Ethan forced her into early retirement and sent her abroad.” “All the old staff were kicked out, too.” My heart stopped. My hands clenched as I struggled to breathe. A soft laugh came from above me as Isabelle held up her phone. “It’s Ethan.” His familiar voice came through the speaker, muffled by background noise. He sounded… off. “Weren’t you supposed to be at your prenatal appointment? I’m here, but the hospital says you’re not.” “Oh, silly me. I must have gotten the date wrong,” Isabelle replied without a hint of sincerity. Ethan didn’t sound angry. Instead, Isabelle glanced at me with a smirk before cooing into the phone. “I’ve been looking at that plot of land the orphanage is on. The building is so old.” “I’m thinking of tearing it down and building a shopping mall.” I struggled desperately, craning my neck, clawing at the phone, trying to force out a choked, desperate “no.” “Then tear it down,” Ethan said. “Just don’t tell Lily.” My frantic movements ceased. Ethan’s detached voice continued. “I’ve hated that place for a long time. It’s a stain on my past I can never wash away.” “There’s no point in keeping it.” Amidst Isabelle’s triumphant laughter, her tone turned sweet and cloying as she flirted with him. “Well, if you marry Lily, I won’t be able to sneak into your bed anymore. I’m her enemy, after all.” The line was silent for a few seconds. Then, Ethan chuckled. “Then just be quiet about it. Don’t let her know.” “I’m not going to marry her. I’ll come see you tonight.” One drop, then another, splattered on the ground. I couldn’t tell if they were my tears or the first drops of rain. Isabelle’s high heel left a trail of bruises on my back and arms. I was dropped back at the mansion, a broken doll, and found Ethan just as he was about to leave. “Who did this?!” Seeing my disheveled state, he swept everything off a nearby table in a furious rage. He demanded answers, but the maids just exchanged glances and lowered their heads, feigning ignorance. His face was a mask of fury. As he moved towards the door, I reached out and grabbed his sleeve. He turned, and I forced a weak smile. “Leo,” I whispered, the sound raspy, “do you remember Havenwood Orphanage?” “Of course I remember. You have no idea how much I want to go back,” he said, his expression softening, a hint of anxiety in his eyes. “But I’ve been so busy.” “Why? Do you want to see her?” I shook my head, my voice still just a breath of air. “No rush.” I wasn’t used to his scent anymore. The cologne was too heavy. He gently applied ointment to my bruises, then looked up and froze. “Don’t cry. Did someone hurt you?” “Tell me who it was. I have money and power now. I can make them pay.” “Who took you out of the mansion? Tell me.” “Please, don’t cry.” All the pain and fear I had bottled up erupted in that moment. He looked helpless, pulling me into his arms and repeating those two words over and over. “Don’t cry.” He never could stand to see me cry. He used to say it felt like a piece of his own heart was being carved out. He carefully wiped my tears and stayed with me until I was back in my room. We sat together, leaning against each other, just like when we were kids. But when I woke up in the middle of the night, the space beside me was cold and empty. Long before I had woken, he had taken the car and driven off into the darkness. He went to see Isabelle after all. Standing by the window, I took out my phone with a trembling hand. Staring at the unknown number, I summoned my courage and typed a single line. “I need to see you.” After sending the message, I smiled through a fresh wave of tears. It’s almost over. Everything is almost over.
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