Chapter 4

That morning, I went straight to the Ashworth Group's headquarters and submitted my resignation from Jimmy's position as his secretary. No hesitation whatsoever, no second-guessing myself.

The HR manager, one of the very few people there who'd ever shown me genuine kindness, looked at me and let out a long sigh. "Iris, congratulations—you actually got out. I mean it. You escaped something truly ugly."

I managed a faint smile. "Yeah... I suppose I did."

For the first time in longer than I could remember, I actually felt lighter, as though something heavy had finally released its grip on my chest. I no longer owed them anything—not the money, not the suffering, not the person I'd forced myself to become just to survive.

That feeling didn't last, though.

The instant I stepped into the villa that evening, a glass shattered directly in front of me.

I flinched as fragments scattered across the floor, one piece slicing into my arm before I could even react. Jimmy stormed toward me before I'd fully processed what was happening.

His hand moved fast.

The slap cracked loudly through the room, my head snapping sideways as pain exploded across my cheek.

"Iris!" he shouted, his eyes blazing with fury. "Grandfather treated you like his own family, and this is how you repay him? You pushed him down the stairs? You tried to kill him?"

My ears rang, my face burned, but none of it registered properly.

"What?" I gasped, panic surging through me. "What are you even saying? How did Grandfather fall? What did the doctor say? Is he going to be okay?"

Before Jimmy could respond, a faint voice drifted down from above.

"Miss Halloway, the butler already confirmed it was you," Mirasol said, her voice trembling, almost pitiful. "Are you seriously going to keep pretending you're innocent, even now?"

Ice spread through my body.

"Jimmy, is this truly the woman you chose?" she added softly, as though genuinely wounded. "She did something so terrible and still refuses to admit it. She's nothing but a coward."

I stumbled backward as Jimmy shoved me hard against the wall. Pain shot through my spine, though I barely registered it.

Because I'd seen her. Mirasol.

For just an instant, her eyes met mine, and she smiled—small, satisfied, knowing.

A chill crawled across my scalp. I didn't need a second to understand. She'd done it. She'd pushed Grandfather down those stairs. And now she was pinning it on me.

Before I could utter a word, my phone rang sharply. Jimmy snatched it up, and the butler's voice came through, frantic and urgent. "Sir, the master just suffered a massive hemorrhage! The hospital's blood supply is running critically low, we may not have enough—"

I couldn't process the rest of it. Because Mirasol spoke again, as though something had just occurred to her.

"Jimmy, Iris's blood type matches Grandfather's, doesn't it?" she said quietly.

My stomach dropped straight through the floor.

A cold dread crept up from my feet and wrapped itself around my chest.

No...

Everything descended into chaos in the next instant. Hands seized me. I fought back, but it made no difference. I was dragged out, forced into a car, and driven directly to the hospital.

Before I could even grasp what was unfolding, I found myself strapped down in the emergency room.

"Hold her steady," someone ordered.

Cold restraints tightened around my wrists. A needle pierced my vein.

"Draw her blood," Jimmy's voice came through, cold and absolute. "As long as it saves Grandfather, I don't care what becomes of her. Even if it kills her."

Something in my chest clenched painfully.

I turned my head, staring at him through vision already going blurry. "Jimmy..." My voice trembled. "Even without you saying anything, I would have given blood for Grandfather willingly. You didn't need to do this. You didn't need to restrain me like some criminal..."

My throat tightened further.

"But I never pushed him," I forced out. "I swear to you, I didn't do it. You can't simply decide that and treat me this way. You can't strip away what little dignity I still have."

He let out a cold, humorless laugh.

"Still lying, are we?" His eyes were full of contempt. "Grandfather treated you so generously, and this is your gratitude? Iris, you truly have no shame left."

"I didn't do—"

"Enough," he cut me off harshly. "You'd better pray he survives. Because if anything happens to him, you'll pay for it in blood."

In blood.

The phrase echoed relentlessly in my mind. Anger, pain, fear—something inside me fractured quietly, completely.

I could feel my blood draining away, drop by drop. My fingers grew cold, my vision dimming at the edges.

Was this what it felt like—having no way out, with no one willing to believe you? A single tear slid down my face.

Dad...

Did it hurt like this for you, lying there alone, needing help that never arrived?

My breathing grew shallow, my thoughts drifting further away. For a moment, I thought I heard his voice.

Gentle.

Calling my name.

Dad, are you here? Have you come to bring me with you?

**

I drifted into a long dream.

In it, Mirasol hadn't returned yet, and everything unfolded differently. Jimmy and I were simply together, like any ordinary couple—no tension, no fear woven through every moment. He'd introduce me to his friends without a trace of hesitation, his arm always settled around my waist as though he were proud to have me there, as though I truly belonged.

He'd even accompanied me to the hospital to visit my father. He would sit beside the bed and talk with him, trying earnestly to earn his approval. I still remembered how awkward he sometimes looked, unsure of what to say, yet trying regardless.

"Sir, I'll take care of Iris," he'd said once, with real sincerity. "You don't need to worry about her."

Back then, I'd believed every word.

I'd genuinely thought we had a future together.

He'd given me so many firsts—the first time I'd felt truly wanted, the first time I'd felt like maybe I wasn't entirely alone in the world. I clung to those memories as though they were solid, real things.

Then, without warning—

Freezing water crashed down over my head.

I gasped, my entire body convulsing as the icy liquid soaked straight through my clothes, biting into my skin like blades. The cold was so severe it felt almost like being cut.

My eyes flew open.

The dream shattered instantly.

Reality crashed back all at once.

Jimmy sat before me, positioned high above like he was surveying something worthless. His eyes remained cold, utterly detached.

"You should be grateful," he said flatly. "Grandfather pulled through. If anything had happened to him, you wouldn't even be alive right now. You'd have died right there on the operating table."

My body went rigid.

Before I could even absorb that, he continued, "Until he regains consciousness, you'll remain here. Reflect on what you've done. And stay ready in case he needs more blood."

Reflect?

My mind went completely blank.

Then it dawned on me exactly where I was.

This place...

Goosebumps rose across my skin.

I recognized this room. It was where Jimmy dealt with people who'd crossed him. I'd heard the whispers, the rumors circulating for years. People didn't emerge the same afterward—if they emerged at all.

No windows anywhere. No light. The air hung thick and heavy, saturated with something I refused to name.

Blood.

I remembered once, laughing, asking him, "What if we ever became enemies someday? Would you throw me in here too?"

He'd looked at me then, uncharacteristically serious. "No. That will never happen. We'll never become enemies."

I almost laughed at the memory now.

Look at me.

Standing right in the center of his personal hell.

All because of a lie that hadn't even bothered concealing its own cracks.

Something inside my chest twisted slowly, agonizingly.

"I didn't push Grandfather," I said, forcing each word out deliberately. "I didn't do it. I'm not lying. I've done nothing wrong, so I refuse to stay here reflecting on something I never did."

I tried to rise to my feet.

My body refused to cooperate.

It felt like I was disintegrating, every part of me too depleted to hold together properly. My legs trembled and gave way before I could even fully stand.

Jimmy let out a low, contemptuous scoff.

"Iris, you really are something else," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Still playing the victim. Still performing innocence. I won't believe a single word out of your mouth ever again."

Ever again.

He turned and walked out. The door slammed shut behind him.