Chapter 4

"Jealousy like that—making a scene over nothing."

"A lunatic like her should be locked in an asylum for life."

I kept my head down, kneeling on the ground, enduring the contempt.

Sophia held Ethan's hand, smiling graciously as she accepted the admiration of New York's elite. The picture of a perfect family.

After the gala ended, Julian pressed the wooden urn into my hands, his tone softening:

"Vivian, I know you've been wronged. From now on, I'll keep Sophia away from you."

"You've already lost one son. Putting Ethan's name under yours—think of it as compensation."

I took the urn. My voice was flat, devoid of anything. "Fine."

The instant Julian turned and walked away, I clutched the urn to my chest and ran with everything I had toward the back gate of the estate.

But the moment I burst through the alley behind the rear courtyard, a group of masked men in black closed in around me.

A dim basement. Sophia withdrew her hand slowly, gazing down at me—battered, broken, curled on the floor shielding the wooden urn beneath my body. A cold smile played on her lips.

From her designer handbag, Sophia produced a different urn—white porcelain—and dangled it before my eyes.

"Did you really think Julian would give you the real ashes?"

My pupils dilated.

"Give it to me! Give it to me!!"

I lunged like a woman possessed, but the bodyguard's massive hands slammed my shoulders back down.

Sophia crouched, her manicured fingers—nails painted in meticulous lacquer—seizing my chin in a crushing grip:

"Julian told me once. When he married you, it was nothing but pity."

"A slum orphan whose mommy and daddy are both dead—what right do you have to be the lady of the Reynold family?"

She straightened, carrying the white porcelain urn, and walked toward the garbage bin in the rear courtyard.

I lost my mind completely. Hands and knees, I crawled across the floor, leaving a winding trail of blood:

"No! Sophia! I'm begging you! Give Leo back to me!!"

Martha, the housekeeper, happened to be walking past with a pair of garden shears. I seized the hem of her skirt, clinging with desperate hands:

"Martha! You watched me grow up! Help me! Please—save Leo!"

Martha stopped. Conflict twisted across her face. In the end, she took one quiet step backward and pulled her skirt free from my grasp:

"Mr. Reynold gave his orders."

"Household matters are Sophia's domain now."

"And if you don't behave—that goes for you too."

My body froze in place. Boundless cold pierced straight through my heart.

Sophia flicked her wrist. Several vagrant men immediately closed in around me.

"Have your fun with her."

"And make sure you film every second of her pathetic begging."

The stench—filth and rot—pressed closer. Rough hands tore my evening gown apart.

I snatched the pruning shears from the ground and drove the blade against my own carotid artery.

The sharp edge broke the skin instantly.

"Get away from me!! One more step and I'll bleed out right in front of you!!"

The smile on Sophia's face only deepened.

She held the urn over the reeking garbage bin, fingers loosening one by one.

"Go ahead and try, Vivian."

"You wouldn't want to see Leo's ashes mixed in with the garbage, would you?"

White powder slipped free, falling straight into the rotting heap below.

"No—!!"

I threw myself forward like a maddened animal, but a bodyguard's boot caught me square in the stomach, slamming me to the ground.

I could only watch—helpless, screaming—as the last trace of Leo merged with garbage and food scraps until it was indistinguishable from waste.

Just then, the iron gate at the back of the courtyard groaned open.

I turned my head, numb and hollow, and looked directly into Julian's face—every drop of blood draining from it.

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