Chapter 1

On their fifth wedding anniversary, Ethan Hawthorne's gift to Stella was a hundred shots of strong liquor and a stand-in who looked just like her.

To save that stand-in, Ethan forcibly took one of Stella's kidneys.

In despair, Stella fell into the deep blue water beneath Harbor Bridge.

When she woke again, she had become Iris Haven, the gentle owner of a flower shop.

A warm, gentle doctor stayed by her side, and her days were steady and quiet.

Until the day a broken man, ragged and paralyzed in both legs, knelt outside Iris's flower shop.

Their fifth wedding anniversary.

The gift Ethan Hawthorne prepared for Stella was a hundred shots of high-proof liquor.

The lights in the club private room were dim and the air was oppressive and suffocating.

Stella was pinned down on the sofa by two bodyguards in black suits.

On the long coffee table in front of her, a hundred shot glasses were stacked into a glittering little tower.

"Drink."

Ethan sat across from her with his legs crossed, his voice as cold as something dragged out of an ice cellar.

Stella's stomach was churning and cramping—she had a severe stomach ulcer that had gotten worse over the past two years.

"Ethan, I really can't drink anymore..."

Her voice was hoarse, with a plea as humble as dust.

Ethan sneered, leaned forward and pinched her chin, so hard that he almost crushed her mandible.

"Your parents loved drinking so much that they drove drunk and killed my whole family.

As their daughter, what do these hundred cups mean? "

Stella's eyes were red, tears hitting the back of his hand.

"I'm sorry..."

She had said those three words for five years, until they became instinct.

"My parents have already paid for it with their lives. Isn't this... enough?"

"If they die ten thousand times, can they bring my parents and sister back!"

Ethan swung his hand away, his eyes filled with frightening hatred.

"Stella, this is only the fifth year, and you already can't take it?"

He stood up straight and took out a handkerchief to wipe his hands, as if he had touched something dirty.

Then he winked at the bodyguard behind him.

"Force it down."

The two men stepped forward. One pried her mouth open, and the other poured the liquor in.

The burning liquid rushed down her throat like a red-hot blade.

Stella coughed violently, her face was smeared with wine and tears, her stomach was on fire, and she was convulsing.

She fell down on the dark carpet, as embarrassed as an abandoned dog.

When will this endless torture end?

She doesn't know.

A soft female voice suddenly broke the dead silence.

Stella looked through blurry teary eyes.

There was a girl standing at the door, in a white dress with long hair and a bright smile.

Stella's breath hitched, and her heart seemed to be clenched.

Alina Locke.

This girl looks so much like her twenty-two-year-old self.

No wonder Ethan kept her close to him.

Seeing Alina, the ice in Ethan's eyes immediately turned into spring water.

He stood and went to her, his voice soft enough to drip honey. "Lina, wait a minute.

Today is Stella's and my wedding anniversary. I am giving her a gift."

Alina looked past him and glanced disdainfully at Stella on the ground.

Then she took his arm and shook it gently.

"Don't waste your time on irrelevant people, okay?"

Ethan was silent for a moment.

He really couldn't ignore Stella completely.

But he quickly changed the subject: "Okay, it's up to you.

Are you hungry? I'll take you for a supper. "

With that said, he took Alina's hand and walked out.

When passing by Stella, Alina swept the hem of her skirt and deliberately kicked the edge of the coffee table with her toes.

Crash—

The tower of glasses collapsed, and shards of glass rained down on Stella.

She instinctively protected her head and face, and there were more than a dozen bloody cuts on her arms and calves. The blood gushed out and stained her shirt red.

"Ah!" Alina covered her mouth, "I didn't mean it!

Ethan, she's bleeding, should she be sent to the hospital? "

Without looking at Stella, Ethan nervously grabbed Alina's hand, frowning.

There was a light red mark on Alina's index finger, and the skin was not even broken, but Ethan lowered his head and kissed it gently, as if he were treating a peerless treasure.

"Does it hurt?"

Alina hooked her arms around his neck, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him. "It won't hurt if you kiss it."

Ethan grabbed the back of her head and deepened the kiss.

Stella lay among broken glass and spilled liquor, blood running down her arms. Their kiss sounded in her ears, and her heart felt as if it were being torn apart.

"Lina..."

Ethan murmured softly in his confusion.

Lina. Lena.

Exactly the same pronunciation, what an ironic overlap.

After the kiss ended, Ethan hugged Alina sideways and walked out without looking back.

Walking to the door, he coldly said:

"Clean her up. Do not let her die.

That body is still worth keeping around for a little more torture."

The door to the private room is closed.

Stella closed her eyes, tears falling silently into her ears.

Everything had changed.

The boy who once cherished her like a treasure had died in that car accident five years ago.

Now Ethan Hawthorne is an evil spirit crawling out of hell.

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