Five years after I left, I ran into Jared Martin outside a divorce mediation office. He was still strikingly handsome, but now carried the unmistakable air of a man in power. The moment he saw me, the cool composure he’d worn just seconds before vanished. He didn't even notice the coffee sloshing onto his prosecutor's uniform as he lunged forward and grabbed my hand. "Anika. It's been a long time." He paused, his gaze shifting to the man who was drunkenly shouting inside the mediation room behind me. "You've been with a man like this all these years? Did he lay a hand on you? Don't worry, I'll help you with the divorce—" I cut him off, politely extricating my hand. "I'm sorry, Prosecutor Martin, but your position gives you no right to interfere in my affairs." Besides, the man in that room was just my cousin's ex-husband. He seemed to sigh, a wave of resignation washing over his features. "Anika, after all this time, you still hate me." I smiled but said nothing. I didn't have that much time to waste on hating him. I had let go long ago. ... I had certainly hated Jared Martin. The second year of our marriage was the year my hatred for him was at its peak. The day I found out I was pregnant was also his birthday. I did two things. First, I went to the hospital and had the pregnancy terminated. Second, I had the unformed embryo preserved as a specimen and gave it to him as a birthday present. Watching the blood drain from his face as he opened the box, I smiled. "Happy birthday. Do you like your gift?" For the first time, I saw the mask of calm self-control he always wore begin to crumble. Jared carefully set the box aside, and before I could react, he slammed me down onto the dining table. My body sank into the birthday cake, the sickly sweet frosting smearing all over me. His eyes were bloodshot, his breathing ragged. "Anika, that was your child too! Do you hate me so much because of what happened?" My breath hitched, but I pushed down the stabbing pain in my chest and laughed. "Yes, Jared. I hate you. You destroyed my family. Why should you get to be happy when my life is in ruins?" But it hadn't always been like this between us. We'd had our happy times. We were once seen as the golden couple, a match made in heaven. Jared was an orphan my family had sponsored. We grew up together. In my memory, we were never apart for more than a month. He was cold and distant to everyone but me. If I casually mentioned my feet were tired, he’d crouch down without a word of complaint and carry me home on his back. When I got my period and stained my clothes, he would quietly wash them for me, his face a stoic mask. He once ditched a major academic competition just to be with me at the hospital when I was sick. Falling in love with Jared felt as inevitable as breathing. Later, he achieved his dream of becoming a prosecutor. The first thing he did with his first paycheck was buy lavish gifts for my family. He held my hand and knelt before my parents, vowing, "I swear I will spend my life protecting this family, and protecting Anika." But on our wedding night, his intern, Serena Walsh, tearfully accused my father of rape. Jared promised me he would prove my father's innocence. I believed him. But at the trial, he was the one who submitted the security footage of my father helping a drunk Serena into a hotel room. My father was sentenced to five years. Our family home was seized. My mother died of a broken heart. I ran through the pouring rain to find Jared, only to see Serena sitting in our living room, wearing my pajamas. He, a man who never cooked, was walking out of the kitchen with a plate of food. A chill cut through me, colder than the rain. I smashed everything I could get my hands on. He just watched me, his voice devoid of emotion. "The verdict reflects justice. The law does not deceive anyone. Serena has developed severe psychological trauma because of your father. This is what your family owes her. As your husband, I have a responsibility to her." From then on, "responsibility" became his excuse. If Serena whispered, "Jared, I'm scared," he would leave me, even if I was running a fever. If she said, "Jared, I want you to stay with me," he would cancel our anniversary dinner. I tried to find a lawyer to appeal my father's case, but Jared's influence in the legal community was too great. No one dared to take it. Over two years, the love I had left was ground into hatred by his daily betrayals. We went from a loving couple to two people who couldn't stand the sight of each other. Another second in the same room felt like suffocation. The memories, a tangled web of pain, resurfaced. I lunged at Jared, sinking my teeth into his neck. He shoved me away. His phone rang. Seeing the name on the screen, a rare softness flickered in his eyes. "What is it, Serena?" His voice was so gentle it could have been liquid honey. Serena's trembling sobs came through the phone. "Jared, I had the nightmare again… about being assaulted. I'm so scared." Jared's eyes flickered to me, a moment's hesitation, and then he grabbed his coat. "I'm on my way." The door slammed shut, leaving me crumpled on the floor like a discarded rag. Only when the echo of the door faded did I allow myself to break. Tears streamed down my face. I told myself this was the last time I would ever cry for him. From this day forward, he would never stir another ripple in my heart. I opened a text from Rich Gad. My fingers trembled as I typed: "I'll do it. I'll crash your wedding in fifteen days. The condition is you get my father out of prison." The moment the message sent, the "typing..." indicator appeared at the top of the screen, as if Rich had been waiting on the other end for my reply. His message came through instantly: 【As you wish. I'll be waiting for you on the Amalfi Coast. Don't disappoint me.】 I woke to a gray, overcast sky. Today was the anniversary of my mother's death. The cemetery was shrouded in a damp, clinging chill. I placed a bouquet of white lilies on her grave, her favorite flower. I knelt, my fingers gently tracing the warm, kind face in the photograph on her headstone. "Mom, I'm here to see you." "Don't worry. I'm doing well... really." "I will get to the bottom of Dad's case. I'll get him out, and he will walk free with his head held high. Everyone who owes our family a debt will pay. I won't let a single one of them go." "Just watch me, from up there." After leaving the cemetery, I slowly walked towards the place I once called home. A notification popped up on my phone—Serena's new social media post. It was a picture of Jared's focused profile, the caption reading: "First time prepping for a trial. So lucky to have Jared patiently guiding me. He says the law protects justice, and he is my justice and my faith." There was a time when that kind of devotion was mine alone. I curled my lip into a sneer, took a screenshot, and sent it to a group chat with three words: 【Perfect match.】 A sick sense of satisfaction bloomed in my chest at the thought of the storm I was about to unleash. When I opened the front door, Serena was nestled against Jared's side, her eyes red and swollen. She shrank behind him when she saw me. Jared patted her back, his eyes full of disappointment as he looked at me. "That's enough, Anika. Serena is innocent." "Innocent? Jared, there's a limit to being blind and deaf," I said coldly. He shot to his feet. "I don't want to fight with you. Serena has a therapy appointment. You're not stable either. You're going with her." "Are you insane, or am I?" The absurdity of it was staggering. "This isn't a request." He grabbed my arm and dragged me to the counseling center. The moment the door to the consultation room closed, Serena's face changed. A triumphant smirk played on her lips. "Doesn't feel good, does it? Nothing ever happened with your father. I stole the 'evidence.' I forged everything. I just wanted to see your perfect little family destroyed. I couldn't stand the sight of you looking down on everyone!" The dam of my hatred burst. I swung my hand and slapped her, hard. CRACK. The door was thrown open. Jared stood there, his face a thunderous mask. Serena immediately grabbed his arm, crying, "Jared, I was just trying to make peace with her! I don't know why she hit me!" "Jared, did you hear her? She admitted it! She admitted to framing my father!" My voice trembled with rage. His brow furrowed deeper, his voice turning to ice. "Enough. The evidence was conclusive. How long are you going to keep deceiving yourself? It's time to accept that your father is a rapist." His words pierced through my last defense. "Is that what you've thought all along?" He looked away, his voice low and firm as he spoke to the doctor outside the door. "She's extremely unstable, exhibiting aggressive and delusional behavior. She needs immediate intervention." Serena chimed in at the perfect moment. "Jared, Professor Miller on the third floor is the best for this." Jared nodded. I was dragged upstairs against my will, only to realize that the "third floor" wasn't a consultation room. It was a treatment room, filled with cold, sterile equipment. Orderlies strapped me into a metal chair, binding my hands and feet with leather restraints. Serena picked up an electrode. A powerful electric current shot through my body. "Remember," she hissed, "your father is a rapist." "He's not!" I bit my lip until I tasted blood. She increased the voltage. Again and again. I don't know how many times I was shocked. My consciousness drifted in and out of the searing pain. "Just say 'he is,' and I'll make them stop," Serena cooed. I struggled to lift my head. "Come closer," I rasped. "I'll say it." The moment she leaned in, I kicked out with all my remaining strength, slamming my foot into her stomach. As she screamed and crumpled to the floor, I managed to free one hand and undo the restraints. I scrambled for the door, but the handle wouldn't turn. "Get her!" Serena shrieked. Just as they were about to grab me again, I turned and charged at her, wrapping my arms around her and slamming us both into the plate-glass window. "I always repay my debts, Serena!" The glass shattered. We fell, tangled together, from the third floor. I woke up in a hospital.
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