Marrying My Fiancé Right Before My Regretful Ex-Husband

It wasn’t long before I received a message from Louise. [Did you see that? Vincent will always be mine. You should’ve given up the title of Mrs. Milton long ago.] As soon as I finished reading her message, a trending topic notification popped up. [Shocking! CEO Vincent Milton Spends Billions to Assemble a Top Medical Team—All for Louise Ainsworth’s Minor Injury!] I clicked on the post. There were photos attached. In one of them, Vincent was holding Louise carefully, his gaze locked onto her with such intensity that his concern seemed almost tangible. I clutched my chest, feeling a wave of numbness wash over me, paralyzing every inch of my body. Five years ago, on the night of my coming-of-age ceremony, I received the terrifying news—my parents had been kidnapped. I had no idea what to do. I was utterly helpless. At that critical moment, it was my fiancé, Vincent, who volunteered to save them. He stormed in alone, unarmed. By the time he returned the next evening, he was covered in blood, his legs broken, supported by my parents as he stumbled inside. I stood there in shock, tears streaming uncontrollably. Despite his injuries, Vincent forced a smile and reassured me, "Don’t cry. Our Sierra looks the best when she smiles... cough... cough." When the medical results came out, I learned from Dr. Beckham that both of his legs were shattered—he might never stand again. And he had lost both of his kidneys. Without hesitation, I offered to donate one of mine. After the surgery, despite my weakened state, I stayed by his side, searching for the best medical teams, accompanying him through endless rehabilitation. Vincent gradually recovered, while I developed a chronic condition that left me dependent on medication. Two years later, with red-rimmed eyes, he proposed to me, vowing to love me for a lifetime. A sudden knock at the door pulled me back to the present. Moments after, the housekeeper approached, holding a bowl of medicine. "Madam, it's time to take your medicine." "Just leave it there. I’ll drink it later," I replied and put down my phone. The housekeeper remained, insistent. "Madam, Sir Vincent specifically instructed me to watch you drink it." Sighing, I took the bowl and downed the medicine in one go. Only after collecting the empty bowl did the housekeeper finally leave. Suddenly, a conversation between Vincent and Dr. Beckham surfaced in my mind, planting a terrible suspicion in my heart. While no one was watching, I sneaked into the kitchen and gathered some leftover medicine residue. The hospital results came back faster than expected. My hands trembled as I held the report. On the way home, Dr. Beckham's words echoed in my head. "These herbs seem nourishing on the surface, but they counteract each other. Over time, they will wear down the body completely." I returned home in a daze. When I pushed open the door, I was met with the sight of Vincent kneeling on one knee, gently wiping Louise’s feet. He placed them down carefully, as if she were the most precious thing in the world. Then I saw what she was stepping on. I felt my breath hitch. It was the blanket I had knitted for him four years ago. That winter, he had fallen into deep despair, unable to walk, refusing to celebrate even his own birthday. To lift his spirits, I had stayed up all night, painstakingly knitting that blanket for him. I could still remember the way his face had lit up with joy when he received it. He wrapped his arms around my waist and whispered, "I’ll treasure it for the rest of my life." Yet now, that very same blanket lay beneath Louise’s feet. When Louise noticed my presence, she immediately tried to explain, her voice flustered. "Sis, please don’t be angry. Vince only brought me back because I almost lost my balance just now. I’ll leave right away—" Before I could speak, Vincent stepped in front of her, shielding her as if I were some kind of threat. "Sierra, don’t take your anger out on Louise. If you have a problem, come at me. Louise is innocent." Louise’s eyes shimmered with tears as she clutched his sleeve. "Vince, don’t be mad at Sis. It’s all my fault... I’m just too clumsy, I can’t even walk properly... I should go now, before I upset her any further..." I stood there, my heart growing colder by the second.

Louise spoke as if she wanted to leave, but her body remained firmly pressed against Vincent, showing no intention of doing so. "Louise, stop messing around. Your back injury hasn’t healed yet, and now you’ve sprained your ankle too," Vincent murmured, tightening his grip on her wrist. Then, his cold gaze shifted to me. "Sierra, if you can’t accept Louise staying in our home to recover, then you should find a hotel to stay in instead." I met his stare and responded calmly, "No need. Let her stay here and recover." With that, I turned and headed upstairs. Not long after, my bedroom door creaked open. Louise sauntered in, a triumphant smirk curling her lips. "My dear sister, I heard you’ve been undergoing IVF for two years just to bear Vincent’s child? That must be exhausting for you... but what a pity—" She paused, her eyes glinting with mockery. "What a pity that a useless woman without a womb will never be able to conceive! Hahaha!" Her words sent a chill down my spine. Before I could react, she took a step closer, her heels clicking against the floor, her voice dripping with malice. "Do you know why our parents were kidnapped on your coming-of-age night?" A sudden wave of unease washed over me. Louise enunciated each word with a cruel smile. "Because you turned eighteen. Mom and Dad wanted you to willingly donate your organs." "Originally, just one kidney would’ve been enough. But Vince said he didn’t want you to ever bear his child. Marrying you? That was just a way to keep you around—as my personal organ donor." I staggered back, shaking my head in disbelief. "Why? Aren’t we sisters?" "Sisters?" Louise’s expression twisted with rage. "Who told you we were real sisters?" Hearing the truth, my breath hitched, and my body trembled. "You’re nothing more than a living blood bank that Mom and Dad raised to keep me alive." "Now that my health has improved, I don’t need you anymore. That’s why Vince has been poisoning you slowly, so you’d wither away without even realizing it." Smirking, she asked, "How does the medicine taste?" I felt my world tilt. So it was Vincent all along. No wonder—no wonder when I told him something felt off about the medicine, he simply brushed it off, telling me not to be so dramatic. Louise grasped my chin, tilting my face up to meet her gaze, her eyes filled with glee. "I was born weak. So our parents took you in, raised you like one of their own—for the sole purpose of harvesting your organs and replenishing my blood." "As for Vince? He only kept you in check so you wouldn’t run away. After all, what would happen if my 'lifeline' disappeared when I needed it most?" She chuckled suddenly, leaning closer. "Oh, did you ever wonder about those bruises on your wrists every morning?" "They weren’t from you tossing and turning at night. They’re from Vince drawing your blood while you sleep. He intentionally bruised the area to cover up the needle marks." A deafening silence filled the room. I stood frozen, struggling to process the horrifying truth. Before I could react, Louise suddenly lifted her hand—then slapped herself across the face and fell dramatically to the floor. "Ahh!" She clutched her stomach, whimpering. "Sister, please, don’t hit me! The baby in my belly is innocent!" Vincent appeared in the doorway almost instantly. Seeing Louise sprawled on the floor, pleading desperately, his expression darkened with fury. Without hesitation, he stormed over and kicked me hard in the chest. Pain exploded through my ribs as I collapsed against the bed frame. "Sierra, I really underestimated you," he spat. "How could you lay a hand on Louise? She’s so kind—how could you be this cruel?" His voice dripped with disgust. "Just because you can’t have children, you want to hurt someone else’s? How twisted have you become? Is it that unbearable for you to see Louise happy?!" I clutched my chest, gasping for breath. "You don’t know why I can’t have children?" I shot back, staring at him. For a split second, hesitation and panic flickered across Vincent’s face. But before he could answer, Louise suddenly let out a pained moan. Vincent’s concern snapped back to her instantly. Without another word, he scooped her into his arms and rushed out. I lay there, staring at the ceiling. The last shred of hope I had disappeared completely. I pulled out my phone, scrolled through my contacts, and dialed a long-forgotten number. When the call connected, I spoke calmly, "That project you mentioned... I'll take it."

The time was set two days later. After a long while, I finally got up, gathered all my belongings from the bedroom, and called the housekeeper to have them taken away. The housekeeper hesitated. "Does Sir Vincent know about this?" I forced a bitter smile, and said, "I’m just decluttering. No need to tell him." When the room was finally empty, I stood in the doorway, gazing at the hollow shell of what had once been my home. There wasn’t a single ounce of attachment left in my heart. Just then, my phone rang. It was my mother. I pressed accept, only to be met with her cold, commanding voice. "Get back home tonight. I don’t care what you’re doing—just be here." And then, as if to hammer the point home, she added, "If you’re not back by five, deal with the consequences yourself." Soon after, the line went dead with a busy signal. I set my phone down, already knowing the reason for the call. It had to be about Louise. — By five o’clock sharp, I stood outside the Ainsworth family estate. As soon as I pushed open the door, an ashtray came flying straight at me. I didn’t move, and the hard ceramic struck my forehead with a sickening crack. Blood trickled down my face. Silently, I bent down, picked up the ashtray, and walked over to my father. I placed it on the table and greeted them evenly, "Dad. Mom." Louise clutched Vincent’s sleeve, feigning distress. "Vince... I’m scared. Look, my sister is bleeding," she whimpered, but the satisfaction in her eyes was unmistakable. My mother glared at me, her face twisted with disdain. "Oh, you’ve really learned a lot since getting married, huh? You’ve gotten bold enough to bully your own sister!" She scoffed, voice laced with venom. "I should’ve never given birth to you. You’re nothing but a wretched curse!" I couldn’t help but ask, "Did you really give birth to me?" Immediately, a searing pain exploded across my right cheek as her hand landed on my skin. I was too weak to withstand the force, and I crumpled to the ground. For a brief moment, hesitation flickered in Vincent’s eyes. Noticing this, Louise let out a laugh. "Sister, really? Mom didn’t even hit you that hard. Why did you fall over so dramatically?" On hearing her words, Vincent’s gaze darkened. The momentary flicker of doubt vanished, replaced by cold indifference. My mother sneered. "Exactly! I barely touched you, and here you are pretending to be weak—trying to frame me now, are you?" She crossed her arms and added, "What is it? Is the title of ‘Mrs. Milton’ not comfortable enough for you, so now you want to extort your own mother instead?" I didn’t respond. I merely picked myself up from the ground, my face expressionless. My father’s glare bore into me, and he intoned coldly, "Kneel, and apologize to Louise." I looked up at him, bewildered. "At least tell me why?" Without warning, my mother struck me again, harder than the first. My cheek swelled instantly, my lips splitting from the impact, the metallic taste of blood coating my tongue. My mother’s voice dripped with hatred. "You little wretch! You’re bullying your sister, and you still have the nerve to argue? You know she’s pregnant, and yet you’re jealous enough to want to harm her child?" "I should’ve drowned you the moment you were born!" Her words cut deep, but I felt nothing. Not anymore. I turned to my father, searching his face for even the smallest trace of fairness. Instead, he rose from his seat and swung down the cane in his hand. A sharp pain shot through my left leg. I grunted in pain but didn’t cry out. My father coldly spoke, "Kneel down and apologize to Louise." A deep sense of desolation washed over me. I turned my gaze to Vincent and asked, "Do you think I did it?" Vincent responded coldly and distantly, "Apologize properly to Louise, and I won’t pursue this matter further." I looked at them, my eyes filled with bitterness. I suddenly felt like the past years had been a joke. My parents never loved me, my husband never cared. No one had ever stood by my side. I inhaled sharply, and calmly said, "Fine, I’ll apologize." Just as I was about to kneel, I paused.

Louise shot my mother a meaningful glance. My mother immediately understood, swiftly grabbing two glass cups from the table and smashing them on the floor. Shards scattered everywhere. She pointed coldly at the broken glass. "Kneel. Right here." I stared at her in disbelief. "Are you really my biological mother?" Her face faltered for a split second, but the flicker of guilt was quickly swallowed by rage. She raised her hand to slap me again. But this time—I caught her wrist. She struggled, eyes blazing with fury. "How dare you! Look at you! Are you really going to strike your own mother now?" I let go of her hand and turned toward my father, my gaze steady and calm. He must’ve been startled by the look in my eyes because his brows immediately furrowed with disapproval. "What are you staring at me for? Kneel and apologize to your sister!" "You're the older one—how can you be so jealous every single day? Learn a thing or two from Louise, will you?" I couldn't hold back the sarcasm. "You mean like seducing her own sister’s husband?" Louise’s expression turned sorrowful. She swayed as if about to collapse, and Vincent quickly reached out to support her. He furrowed his brow and looked at me. "Sierra, that joke went too far." "If you’ve done something wrong, apologize. Why are you still insulting Louise?" I looked at the man who once swore eternal love to me, now holding another woman in his arms and defending her with righteous indignation. A wave of cold sorrow washed over me. "Sister, I don’t need your apology anymore," Louise said suddenly, stepping forward with a tragic expression. She bent slightly, as if preparing to kneel. "All I ask is that you stop using that witchcraft against me—for the sake of the child I carry." The moment those words left her mouth, the room fell into stunned silence. Vincent was the first to explode. "Sierra! I never imagined you could be so cruel! What has Louise ever done to deserve this? Resorting to dark sorcery to harm her and the baby?!" My mother’s voice shrieked through the room. "You heartless wretch! I raised you, clothed you, fed you—and this is how you repay us? Harming your own sister? Do you even have a conscience left?!" My father’s face turned grim. "Sierra, I’m truly disappointed in you. Do you have anything to say for yourself?" I laughed bitterly. "Even if I told you the truth, would any of you believe me?" A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes. Then, without warning, he lifted his cane and struck the back of my knee. Pain shot through my leg, and before I could react, I collapsed forward. My knees slammed directly onto the shattered glass. Agony bursts through my every nerve. Darkness flickered at the edges of my vision. As I tried to push myself up, a heavy hand shoved the back of my head, slamming my forehead down onto the shards with a sickening crack. The room spun. Through the haze of pain, I looked up—and saw Vincent wiping his hands with a sanitizing wipe, calm and detached. Not even a trace of affection in his eyes. "Sierra, this is how you apologize properly. I’m doing you a favor." "Now get rid of that dark magic, or if anything happens to Louise, I won’t forgive you." "I told you—I never used any kind of sorcery!" I shouted, and clenched my fist so tightly my nails dug into my palms. Louise stepped in, her voice soft and trembling. "If Sis says she didn’t do it, then I believe her... Vince, please don’t be angry. I’m sure she didn’t mean it." She played the part of the peacemaker—but every word she spoke twisted the blade deeper into my back, pushing me further toward the abyss, all the while wearing the mask of innocence.

I looked at each of them one by one, and suddenly—everything I’d done over the years felt like nothing more than the pathetic performance of a clown. Every time my parents were sick, it was always me rushing around, doing everything I could, even fainting from exhaustion on several occasions. When Vincent’s company faced a crisis, I desperately tried to pull in business partners, even drinking so much I ended up with stomach ulcers more than once. And as for Louise—my parents spoiled her endlessly all these years. I never tried to compete, never fought her for anything. Yet she always wanted to take what was mine. I took a deep breath, feeling something in my chest quietly shattered and slipped away. There was no place for me in this family. There never had been. Or perhaps, I never had a family at all. As I faced their accusing glares—like I was some murderous criminal—I felt nothing but a cold numbness rise within me. "Are you all satisfied now?" I asked calmly, looking directly at Louise. Wasn’t this exactly what she had wanted? Vincent snapped, "Sierra, what kind of attitude is that?! Louise is kind and innocent. She’s done nothing wrong—why are you treating her like this?" "Can’t you stop being so jealous? The Milton family doesn’t like women who are overly jealous." I looked at him with distant eyes. "Do you think I need your approval?" 'Vincent, your so-called love is worthless.' He probably didn’t expect that the usually obedient woman would actually start to argue back. The discomfort this caused him was evident. My father cleared his throat. "Alright, this matter ends here. Today is a family dinner day, so behave yourself." In other words—let it go. Pretend nothing happened. I clenched my fists. When my eyes met the same cold, detached gaze from my father that I'd known all my life, I couldn’t bring myself to say another word. At the dinner table, Vincent sat beside Louise. I was seated across from the two of them. He seemed flustered for a brief moment when he noticed my gaze, perhaps intending to explain. But before he could, Louise spoke first with her usual delicate tone, "Sis, my boyfriend is away on a business trip overseas. He and Vince are best friends, so I asked Vince to take care of me. You don’t mind, do you?" I almost laughed. There was no such overseas boyfriend. She said that just to show off—to provoke me. And Vincent played right along. "Yes, Sierra, don’t take it the wrong way. Louise’s injured and still recovering—of course I’d help out, as her boyfriend’s brother." I looked at him, trying to keep my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. "So everything you’ve done for her up to now—that was all out of brotherly duty to your friend?" Before he could respond, my mother yanked me up and threw me to the floor, screaming at the top of her lungs, "You damn girl! Have you no shame?! Are you trying to turn the whole house upside down?" "If Louise weren’t so kind and forgiving, do you think we’d even let you sit at this table after the awful things you've done?" I lowered my gaze, an overwhelming sense of sadness filling my heart. When I walked in earlier, I noticed the dishes on the table—every one of them was something Louise liked. As for me? There was nothing. They didn’t know what I liked—or maybe they never cared. And now my father chimed in again. "That’s enough. Vince and Louise don’t come back often. Must you be the one to ruin every family gathering?" I stood up and met my father’s direct gaze. Suddenly, I understood. He was talking about me. I let out a bitter laugh in my heart. Who was the one who truly ruined this family? Did they really not know the answer?

"Sit down and eat," my father ordered, and my mother didn't say another word. But the venomous look in her eyes never wavered, as if she was staring at a mortal enemy. Throughout the meal, Vincent kept his eyes fixed on Louise, not even sparing me a glance. Halfway through, he finally seemed to notice my presence and picked up a shrimp for me. I didn’t touch the shrimp, choosing instead to focus on my own food. Louise furrowed her brows, then spoke in a sweet, teasing tone, "Sis, why aren’t you eating the shrimp that Vince picked for you? Is it because he’s sitting next to me that it upset you?" "Or maybe Vince should sit next to you, since you’re so upset you won’t even eat the shrimp he offered?" "It’s all my fault," she said, pretending to feel guilty. "I’ll kneel and apologize to you, Sis!" Louise feigned kneeling, but as she started to rise, Vincent quickly stopped her. He looked at me, his eyes flashing with a dangerous glint. "Sierra, how much longer are you going to cause trouble? Are you really going to force Louise to kneel before you? Is that what will make you happy?" Louise hid behind Vincent, giving me a provocative smile. I lowered my eyes slightly, "What trouble am I causing? From the beginning, wasn’t it all of you who’ve been talking?" Vincent stood frozen, momentarily stunned, his face showing hesitation as if deep in thought. Seeing his reaction, Louise suddenly placed her hand over her chest and gasped, feigning pain. "Vince, my heart hurts so much..." At the sound of her voice, Vincent stopped thinking entirely, swiftly picking her up and rushing away, never sparing a single glance at me, his wife. My mother glared at me with eyes full of venom. "Look at you, a jinx! I never should have raised you!" "Fine. Let’s sever ties then," I said, following the flow of the moment. If this family couldn’t accept me, then I had no reason to stay. My mother’s chest heaved with anger, and she pointed at me, unable to speak from the rage. I looked back at her boldly, meeting her gaze head-on. Meanwhile, my father cleared his throat twice, his voice was stern. "Sierra, this is not the time for your nonsense." I knew it was a warning. After leaving the Ainsworth household, I didn’t go to the hospital to treat my injuries. Instead, I returned to the villa that Vincent and I had once called home. I looked around at the overly warm and cozy decorations, memories flashing through my mind. I packed up all my clothes, planning to donate them to those in need. I also gathered my toiletries and threw them all away. Then, I remembered that Vincent and I hadn’t yet divorced, so I took my things and checked into a hotel. Afterward, I hailed a cab to the hospital to find Vincent. Just as I stepped out of the elevator, I heard a familiar voice coming from the hallway. "Just say what’s on this paper, and then get Vincent to agree to give me a heart transplant." It was Louise’s voice. Wasn’t she supposed to be in the ward? I pressed my ear to the wall, pulling out my phone to start recording. Another voice responded, "Ms. Lauren, your heart is perfectly fine. What you’re asking for is—" Louise interrupted him sharply, "Just do as I say. The rest is none of your business." The man hesitated. "But the information about Ms. Sierra is missing here. How can we be sure her heart is a match for yours?" "Ms. Lauren," the man continued, "If this is discovered, both you and I will be in trouble."

Louise gritted her teeth. "Shut up, just follow the instructions on this paper. Don’t worry about anything else. After it's done, I’ll pay you." The conversation ended there, and I quickly stepped back into the elevator, waiting for a while before I felt it was safe to exit. When I reached the door of the ward, I heard Vincent’s voice. "Louise, what’s going on with your heart? How did this happen?" Louise’s face was pale, and she weakly replied, "I’m not sure. Dr. Beckham said that since they can’t figure out the cause, maybe it’s because of what my sister did..." She stopped mid-sentence, suddenly clutching her mouth in horror, her eyes wide open. "No... it’s impossible. My sister wouldn’t do this to me." Vincent looked at her with a pained expression, frowning deeply. He quickly pulled her into his arms and comforted, "It’s okay, I’ll be here with you." Watching the two of them so affectionate, I couldn’t help but sneer inwardly. "Excuse me, ma'am, are you here to visit?" A nurse’s voice interrupted my thoughts, breaking the intimate moment between them in the ward. "What are you doing here?" Vincent turned to me, his eyes full of gloom. "I came to deliver a document to you," I replied flatly. Upon hearing this, Vincent frowned. "What document would you need to bring in person? And at such an inappropriate time?" I knew he’d say that, so I took out the document I had already prepared and handed it to him. "It'she project that Louise wanted. Your assistant couldn’t find you, so he sent it to the house." "He said the contract needs to be finalized today, or it will cause more trouble later. So, he asked me to bring it." "Since you don’t want to sign it, I’ll just tear it up for you." I pretended to rip the contract, but Louise was even more anxious than Vincent. She almost jumped out of bed to snatch the document from my hands, but Vincent quickly held her back. "Sister, please, don’t tear it up! This project is something I’ve been following for a long time, and I’ve worked hard for it to help Vince." Louise’s eyes reddened, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. "As long as you don’t tear up the contract, I’ll do anything. Even if you send me abroad again..." "Sierra!" Vincent’s face darkened with rage as he glared at me. "Give it to me. I’ll sign it." I walked over and handed him the divorce agreement along with the contract. Vincent, too absorbed in coaxing Louise, didn’t even look at the contract carefully. "Now, get out, and don’t dirty Louise’s eyes by staying here." Finally, with the divorce agreement in my hands, I breathed a sigh of relief. "You should’ve signed it sooner." After I left with the signed document, I had a runner deliver the contract to Vincent’s assistant. Earlier, I had met his assistant at the villa’s door, and knowing Vincent might refuse to sign, I decided to use the contract as a cover. With the divorce agreement in hand, I returned to the hotel and booked a flight for tomorrow. Later that night, my phone buzzed with a message from Louise. It was a video. The lighting was dim, and there was a suggestive sound of water flowing. I furrowed my brows, feeling disgusted. I was about to close the video when I heard Louise’s voice. "Vince, I want to have a baby with you. Is that okay?" "Of course, Louise, any child you have will be as kind and cute as you." "But, sister, she’s been trying to do IVF with you, hasn’t she?" Vincent scoffed. "She’ll never be able to carry my child." "Why?" Louise asked, sounding curious. Without hesitation, Vincent replied, "Because her eggs either go down the drain or get fertilized by stray dogs on the street." "So, Louise, you don't need to worry," he added.

The sound abruptly stopped, and the video ended. A new message from Louise popped up. [Did you see that? Vince doesn't love you at all. I suggest you give up while you still can.] [Don’t keep holding onto something that isn’t yours. By the way, even though I’m not really pregnant, you will die tomorrow for sure.] I turned off my phone, dismissing her messages as nothing more than an attempt to gloat. After all, once tomorrow is over, nothing in Los Angeles will matter to me. I used to love Vincent to the point of madness, giving him my heart, only to end up with this result. Thinking about it now just seems ridiculous. The next morning, at the crack of dawn, I was woken by the ringing of my phone. I had intended to turn it off, but accidentally answered. Soon, Vincent’s voice, full of anger and restraint, came through. "Sierra, you must come to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center immediately. If you’re not here within ten minutes, there will be consequences." The next second, the line went dead with a busy tone. I glanced at the time—it was 5:06 AM. I turned over and went back to sleep. A few minutes later, the phone rang again. I impatiently answered the call. "You—" "Sierra, where are you? I came back to the villa but didn’t find you. Where did you go?" Vincent’s tone was a bit softer this time. Rubbing my groggy head, I asked, "What do you need?" Vincent hesitated for a moment before suppressing his anger, "Sierra, stop throwing a tantrum. Hurry and come back." At that moment, I remembered the last message Louise had sent me. On the other end of the line, Vincent sounded like he wouldn’t give up until he saw me. "Sierra, if you show up within half an hour, I’ll agree to anything you want." "Where are you now? I can come pick you up." "I also bought the ring you love so much, and I’ve got a little cake for you. You know how much you like strawberry cake, right?" "And I bought those spicy grilled shrimp you like—" I couldn’t help but interrupt his little performance, speaking coldly, "Vincent, you’re trying to kill me." "Sierra!" Vincent raised his voice suddenly, then seemed to relent, lowering it to a softer tone. "You’re my wife. How could I harm you?" "Stop messing around and just come home. I’ve prepared—" "Vincent, I’m allergic to seafood. Don’t you know that?" I scoffed. "We’ve known each other for five years, been together for three, and you still don’t remember I’m allergic to seafood? Is this what you call loving me?" Vincent fell silent. He wanted to say otherwise, but an inexplicable sense of panic started rising within him. It felt like something was about to slip away. I couldn’t be bothered to continue this conversation and was about to hang up when I suddenly heard Vincent speak again. "Sierra, are you coming back or not? Your sister needs a blood transfusion urgently. You need to come and save her." "Is it really just a blood transfusion?" I asked sharply. There was a long silence on the other end. I couldn’t help but sneer inwardly. If I hadn’t overheard Louise discussing with Dr. Beckham her plan to take my heart, I would have naively gone there by now. Vincent had no compassion for me—his heart was entirely set on Louise. I sneered, "Vincent, you really are… despicable."

Sierra hung up the phone and quickly packed her bags, preparing to leave the hotel. Knowing Vincent for years, she was certain that with Louise attempting to swap her heart—and Vincent’s deep attachment to her—he would not let this go easily. Sure enough, just three minutes after she left, Vincent’s Maybach pulled up in front of the hotel. He strode inside, questioning the front desk, and upon learning that Sierra had already checked out, he began calling her furiously. His messages came in rapid succession, each one more demanding than the last. Meanwhile, Sierra sat in the back of a taxi, watching the endless stream of calls and texts flood her screen. A cold smile curled at the corner of her lips. 'Vincent, let’s see just how far you’ll go for Louise,' she thought. The calls went unanswered, and the messages received no reply. Sitting in his car, Vincent slammed his fist against the steering wheel in frustration. He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with unsteady hands. Just as he took a couple of puffs, his phone rang. A flicker of relief crossed his face—so fleeting it was almost imperceptible. Without checking the caller ID, he answered it. "Sierra, I’m telling you now, come back immediately, or I might reconsider not divorcing you—" "Vince, it’s me..." "Louise?" Vincent frowned as he glanced at the screen. "Why are you calling me? Aren’t you in the ICU?" Louise’s voice came through weakly. "Vince, is Sierra refusing to come back?" "It’s fine, Vince. My only wish in this life is to marry you, but Sis... she..." "Don’t say anything. I’m coming to the hospital now. As for Sierra, I’ll find her." Vincent soothed her gently. "But... it seems like my sister is heading towards the airport." Louise slyly dropped the hint. With that information, Vincent quickly ended the call, then rushed to his car, heading straight for the airport. When he arrived, he frantically searched the terminal, phone in hand, dialing Sierra’s number over and over. But this time, instead of the endless ringing, an automated voice responded: "Hello, the number you dialed is no longer in service..." He froze. Unwilling to believe it, he redialed—only to hear the same cold message again. Gritting his teeth, he turned and rushed to the airport’s broadcast station, instructing them to page her. After that, he called his assistant, ordering an immediate investigation. But there was no trace of Sierra. By the time Vincent arrived at the hospital, a dazed look shadowed his face. He spotted Louise, perfectly fine, walking around the hallway. "Louise? You’re okay?!" At the sound of his voice, she quickly turned and put on a bright smile. "Vince, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?" Vincent lowered his gaze, masking the turmoil in his eyes. "Louise, your heart..." At the mention of her condition, a flicker of panic crossed Louise’s face but she immediately tried to compose her face. She hesitated before responding. "Just now, my mom found a doll in the room where Sierra used to stay. It had a needle stuck in it. After she pulled it out, I suddenly felt much better." Her voice was soft, almost hesitant. "Vince, why hasn’t Sierra come back with you? Is she still angry with me?" At that moment, the television in the hospital lobby switched to a breaking news segment. "Reports confirm a plane crash involving Flight MX952." The words sent a chill down Vincent’s spine. A second later, his phone rang. It was his assistant. "Mr. Milton, we’ve confirmed that Ms. Sierra boarded Flight MX952."