To complete her thesis data, Annie Schultz secretly injected an unapproved experimental drug into Yasmine’s daughter.
However, the treatment failed.
Frightened of taking responsibility, Annie fled the operating room in a panic.
Moments later, Yasmine’s daughter suffered total organ failure.
When Yasmine’s mother discovered the truth and tried to report Annie, her company was suddenly investigated that very night for tax evasion.
She was taken away by the police, convicted, and sentenced to ten years in prison.
Yasmine obtained the remaining drug as evidence to prove what really happened—but instead of support, she faced public outrage and online harassment, branded a criminal and shunned like a rat in the street.
And behind all of this… was none other than her husband of ten years—Joaquin.
—
In the children’s ward, Janna’s breathing was labored, her body temperature plummeting fast.
Tears filled Yasmine’s eyes. She pressed the call bell over and over, but no one came.
Panicking, she ran out of the room, her desperate cries echoing through the corridor.
Then Joaquin appeared before her, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit and a pair of luxurious leather shoes—commanding, and cold.
His brow was furrowed, his voice calm but heavy with pressure.
“Send out this drug report right now,” he ordered coldly. “Clear Annie’s name.”
“I don’t have time to watch you cry. Once you agree, the doctors will come.”
Yasmine’s eyes burned red as tears streamed down her face. Her voice trembled. “Janna is your daughter too!”
She could hardly believe it—the man she’d loved for ten years was using their daughter’s life as leverage.
All… for Annie’s worthless research data.
Her strength left her. She collapsed to the floor, clutching her chest, gasping for air as pain clawed through her heart.
Joaquin panicked and immediately crouched down, handing Yasmine the inhaler the doctor had just given him. Tears welled in her eyes as she took it, pushing him away with trembling hands.
“Yasmine, Annie already told me—Janna’s condition isn’t that serious. There’s no need for emergency treatment.”
His tone hardened. “Don’t be unreasonable. Be sensible. Clarify things right now, apologize to Annie publicly, and your mother’s company issue will naturally be resolved. Okay?”
He held the inspection report high, his gaze sharp and domineering.
‘Okay?’
Where did she even have the right to choose?
He wasn’t giving her a choice at all—he was forcing her to surrender!
Her fingers tightened around the inhaler as memories flashed before her eyes.
They had been in love for two years, and married for ten.
Because she’d been born with asthma, he once traveled across the country searching for the best inhaler for her.
When she gave birth to Janna, he personally chose every single item for her and their baby.
She had once believed they’d grow old together. But since Janna’s pneumonia diagnosis, Yasmine had been the one caring day and night—begging Joaquin to transfer them to a better hospital.
But time and time again, he dodged her pleas.
She thought it was because of work pressure. She never imagined it was for Annie, his first love—because her drug research was missing one crucial test subject.
When Yasmine refused to take the report, Joaquin’s patience snapped.
“If you don’t agree,” he warned, “your mother’s company will go bankrupt—and Janna will never leave that bed.”
“Yasmine, I’m giving you a chance. When Annie and I were children, we were kidnapped. If she hadn’t taken the knife for me and hurt her leg, I would’ve been dead long ago. This is a debt you and I owe her. Do you understand?”
Yasmine forced herself to stand, but the sound of shattering glass erupted from the ward.
Janna convulsed on the bed, weakly crying out, “Mommy…”
“Janna!” Yasmine tried to rush in, but Joaquin slammed the door shut, twisting her wrists to restrain her.
“Apologize now—or I won’t let the doctors in. You’ll never see Janna or your mother again.”
Yasmine gripped his collar, screaming through tears. “Joaquin, that’s your daughter! Your own daughter!”
He frowned, irritation flashing in his eyes.
With a shove, he sent her crashing into the wall. “You have five minutes to post your apology and clarification video.”
For the first time, Yasmine looked at him and saw not her husband—but a stranger wearing his face.
…
They met in college.
He’d serenaded her with a guitar, confessed his love before everyone.
Every year, he secretly bought concert tickets for her favorite singer and slipped them into her bag.
When she studied fashion design, he always sat in the front row of her fashion shows.
The first time he took her to meet the Romero family, they looked down on her.
He’d flipped the table, held her hand, and declared she was the only one he’d ever acknowledged.
When his family demanded he break up with her, he publicly cut ties with them.
With his first earnings, he bought engagement rings and filled every billboard in the city with his proposal.
On their wedding day, the Romero family finally relented.
They kissed beneath a rain of flowers, vowing to be each other’s lifelong shelter.
Then Janna was born—and their happiness doubled.
And that illusion ended… the moment Annie walked into their lives.
When she brought Yasmine flowers that triggered her asthma, Joaquin brushed it off as immaturity. She fed Janna seafood, causing a severe allergic reaction, but he said Annie was innocent didn’t know any better. She used patients in illegal drug trials; he apologized and paid the families’ hush money.
When Annie tearfully said her parents favored sons, Joaquin bought her a 500-square-meter penthouse in the city center.
Six months ago, when Janna fell ill with pneumonia, it was Joaquin who insisted she would be treated in Annie’s hospital.
Annie argued that Janna’s condition made her a “perfect test subject,” and forbade other treatments.
That night, Janna’s pneumonia worsened. She was rushed to emergency care.
Yasmine waited outside in terror—until she heard Annie shouting that no one was to treat Janna.
Annie personally forced her experimental drug down the child’s throat, recorded her data, and left.
By the next morning, mild pneumonia had become critical.
When Yasmine begged to see her daughter, Joaquin stopped her.
He watched her weep and even kneel before him, yet his heart didn’t waver.
Her mother, unable to stand by, obtained a sample of the drug and had it tested—only to find it was a basic painkiller.
That same night, her company was raided and she was taken away.
“Yasmine, will you post it or not?”
Joaquin stood in front of the door, blocking every doctor from entering.
Yasmine’s teeth chattered as she whispered, “I’ll post it. I’ll do it now.”
Her trembling hands took the forged test report, and using her own account, she uploaded it.
Only then did Joaquin release the door handle.
Yasmine shoved the door open and ran to her daughter’s side, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Please! Save Janna—save my daughter!”
Doctors rushed forward—but Annie stepped in front of them.
“I said no! My research still needs follow-up data. Janna can’t undergo any other treatment!”
Yasmine dropped her daughter’s cold hand and shoved Annie aside.
“Ah—my head hurts! Joaquin!” Annie cried weakly, clutching her forehead.
Smack!
Without warning, Joaquin’s hand struck Yasmine’s face.
The burning pain spread across her cheek—but it was nothing compared to the agony in her heart.
He turned away and lifted Annie in his arms, glaring at Yasmine.
“If Annie says Janna can’t be treated, then she won’t be.”
Yasmine clutched Joaquin’s arm, her eyes filled with desperate pleading.
“You can’t listen to her! Janna has severe pneumonia—she’ll die, do you understand?”
Joaquin’s expression remained cold, unreadable. In his arms, Annie weakly shook her head.
“It’s almost enough, Joaquin… will you help me?”
Joaquin turned toward the doctor behind him, his voice like ice.
“Follow Doctor Schultz’s orders. No one is allowed to help.”
Yasmine grabbed his clothes, shaking her head frantically.
“I don’t want her medicine—I just want Janna to get normal treatment. Joaquin, please, I’m begging you!”
Annie’s hand suddenly lifted, streaked with bright red blood. Her voice trembled.
“Joaquin… it’s blood…”
She collapsed before she could finish.
Joaquin shoved Yasmine away; she stumbled back and hit the wall. His face darkened, his voice filled with fury like a demon’s whisper.
“Stop using Janna to deceive me and hurt Annie.”
Using Janna?
Yasmine froze, her mind spinning in disbelief.
“Lock the ward door. Don’t let Madam in,” Joaquin ordered coldly before striding out with Annie in his arms.
The bodyguard dragged Yasmine back and slammed the door shut, barring her from entry. Through the small window, she saw Janna’s frail body slip from the bed and fall to the floor. Her heart twisted like it was being torn apart.
“I’m begging you—please, let me in!”
The bodyguard didn’t move. Yasmine clung to the door, pounding with all her strength. The man finally kicked it open, the force slamming her head against the corridor wall. Pain shot through her scalp as her vision blurred.
Her nails dug deep into her palms, blood oozing faintly. Her eyes burned red, her chest heaving with grief and fury.
“Joaquin…” Her voice trembled but carried a chilling resolve.
“Since you’re so determined—let’s get a divorce. From now on, we have nothing to do with each other.”
[Yasmine, be good. When Annie wakes up and gives Janna her medicine, she’ll be fine. Stop trying to fool me.]
That was the only message Joaquin sent to comfort her—yet even his words were meant for Annie’s peace of mind, not her own.
Yasmine’s fingers tightened around her phone, the knuckles pale from force. Her heart, however, felt as if it were bleeding.
For Annie’s sake, Joaquin could sacrifice anything.
Without hesitation, Yasmine deleted the message and dialed Joaquin’s grandfather’s number.
“Grandpa Mike, I want a divorce. I’ll leave with nothing—but I’m taking Janna with me, and my mother must remain unharmed.”
…
When she arrived home, she carried the divorce papers the Romero family’s lawyer had prepared for her.
As she opened the door, she overheard Joaquin on the phone, his tone light, arranging flowers and reserving a private dining room at San Diego’s most luxurious restaurant.
“Have you thought it through?”
Joaquin ended the call and turned toward her. His gaze softened when he noticed the bruise on her temple. His voice carried a hint of concern, as if nothing had ever happened.
“What happened to your head?”
Yasmine exhaled shakily, reached into her bag, and pulled out the stack of papers.
“I need your signature.”
He took them, about to glance through the pages, when his phone buzzed again. The custom ringtone—specifically for Annie—rang through the air. His eyes darkened with worry. Without reading a word, he grabbed the pen and scribbled his signature.
“Annie is in trouble. I’ll help her settle it. Afterward, I’ll take you to apologize to her.”
Yasmine clutched the signed papers, her voice trembling but steady.
“All right.”
For a moment, Joaquin seemed dazed, sensing something off about her calm tone. But Annie’s frantic sobs came through the phone, and he immediately left, never looking back.
By that afternoon, Yasmine had her divorce certificate in hand.
When she returned home, Joaquin was in the dining room, gently tending to Annie’s wounds.
“Annie was in a car accident,” he explained flatly. “She needs care, so I brought her home.”
Yasmine walked past them, her heels clicking softly against the floor, as though she hadn’t heard a word.
“Yasmine, wait.”
He grabbed her hand, forcing her to face Annie.
“Apologize.”
The words echoed in her skull like thunder. Her fingers turned cold and stiff.
“Forget it, Joaquin,” Annie said sweetly. “My injuries aren’t serious.”
“Yasmine,” Joaquin’s tone hardened, “even if Annie forgives you, you still have to take responsibility for hurting her.”
Hurt her?
The absurdity of it nearly made Yasmine laugh. Was this man truly the father of her child?
She yanked her hand free and turned to leave.
“Yasmine!” He blocked her path, his eyes blazing with fury. “You want your mother to come home, don’t you?”
Her ears rang. She could barely breathe.
If she defied him, her mother would suffer again.
“Fine. I’ll apologize.” She inhaled sharply.
He dragged her back to Annie. Yasmine bowed her head, forcing the words through gritted teeth.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”
Annie smiled faintly. “It’s all right, Yasmine. But I’ll have to trouble you taking care of me for the next few days.”
“Days?” Yasmine’s eyes widened.
Joaquin, utterly calm, ordered as if speaking to a servant. “Annie has a mild concussion. You don’t need to go to the hospital. Stay home and look after her.”
Then he slipped on his jacket and left for his evening social event without another glance.
Not long after, Annie went upstairs and pushed open Yasmine’s bedroom door.
“I like this room. Yasmine, run me a bath. I’ll rest here tonight.”
“If you want to stay, pick another room,” Yasmine spat.
Smirking, Annie kicked the back of her knee. At that instant, pain shot up Yasmine’s leg, and she fell forward. Annie grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back viciously.
“If you disobey me, your mother and daughter will both die.”
Yasmine’s scalp burned with pain. Annie flung her aside and sneered.
“Now, change the bedsheets.”
Yasmine staggered to her feet, but then she saw Annie pick up a framed photo—a picture of their family of three—and slam it to the floor.
Glass shattered across the tiles. Annie ground her heel over the image.
“Don’t touch that! Give it back!”
Yasmine lunged forward, but Annie’s stiletto heel came down hard on her hand, pressing deep into her skin.
“Ah—!”
Pain shot up her arm, blood trickling between her fingers.
That photo… it was Janna’s favorite.
Gathering what little strength she had left, Yasmine shoved Annie away and snatched the photo. The glass had split it clean in half, a gaping tear across the smiling faces.
The commotion drew Joaquin upstairs.
“What’s going on here?”
Annie ran to him in tears, collapsing against his chest.
“Joaquin, Yasmine slapped me and told me to get out. Then she smashed your family photo.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have come here…”
Rage clouded his face. He struck Yasmine across the cheek with a loud crack.
Her vision blurred, head spinning from the force.
“Yasmine, why did you become like this?!” he thundered.
Yasmine looked at him with a bitter smile. Blood dripped from the back of her injured hand, sliding down her fingers. Only then did Joaquin notice her wound.
“What happened to your hand?”
She laughed softly, her voice trembling with pain. “Why did I become like this? Joaquin, if your eyes are blind, they can be treated. But if your heart is blind—then you’re better off dead.”
Her words struck him like knives. Joaquin’s scalp tingled, a chill spreading through his chest.
He turned to Annie, ready to question her—but she suddenly went limp, collapsing into his arms.
“Joaquin…” she whimpered weakly, clutching his sleeve. “Take me to the hospital… I’m scared. My heart hurts. I forgot my medicine when I came here…”
Without hesitation, Joaquin gathered her in his arms. His gaze shot toward Yasmine, blazing with accusations.
“You still want to deceive me, Yasmine? You cruel, venomous woman—do you even know Annie has a heart condition?”
Annie rested against his chest, a faint, provocative smile curling on her lips as her eyes met Yasmine’s.
Yasmine felt her heart turn to ice. Joaquin’s expression darkened as he barked an order to the guards.
“Take Madam to the greenhouse,” Joaquin spat coldly. “Let her care for the flowers. Give her the medication every hour.”
The bodyguards dragged Yasmine down the stairs and threw her into the glass greenhouse.
The heavy scent of pollen choked her lungs. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she struggled to breathe.
“Let me out! Please—let me out!”
Her desperate screams echoed through the night, but no one came. The suffocating scent of flowers filled her lungs—until every breath burned like fire.
With a click, the glass door of the conservatory locked behind her. Sunlight streamed through the panels, harsh and unforgiving. She clutched her nose and mouth tightly, terrified to breathe in the thick, pollen-laden air.
Suddenly, two massive dogs—almost half her height—lunged out from behind the flowerbeds, growling viciously as they charged toward her as if they had not eaten. She froze in terror, her mind went blank. Their snarls reverberated off the glass walls like thunder.
“Let me out! Please, let me out!” Yasmine screamed, pounding on the door.
One of the beasts sank its teeth into her calf. Pain like fire tore through her flesh; she could feel the blood seeping into her shoe. She staggered and gasped, her breath catching as the air filled with choking pollen. The more she tried to breathe, the weaker she became.
“Help… help me…”
Yasmine dragged herself toward the door, pounding weakly against it, but there was no response from outside.
Pain shot through her leg, numbing her entire body until even breathing felt impossible. Her strength slowly ebbed away as she stared blankly at the blinding sunlight filtering through the glass.
She didn’t know how much time had passed before an inhaler was suddenly pressed against her lips.
Yasmine’s hazy mind cleared a little. Relief flooded her—she thought she was finally being saved. She thought she could leave.
But then Joaquin’s hand withdrew the inhaler. Instead, he lifted a handful of pollen and scattered it in front of her face.
She instinctively tried to cover her nose, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned her down. His voice was cold, edged with accusations.
“Do you even know what you’ve done? Annie is still in the hospital fighting for her life. If she doesn’t get a heart donor soon, she might die!”
His eyes burned with fury.
“Yasmine, when did you become so vicious? How could you hurt someone who has a heart condition? You’ll stay here until they find a donor. When she gets her heart, you can come out!”
The pollen invaded her lungs again. Her breathing turned ragged, her skin deathly pale. She crumpled to the floor, clutching at his trousers with trembling hands.
“I didn’t…”
Joaquin kicked her away, the disgust in his eyes cutting deeper than any wound. She hit the ground hard. The door slammed, locking her inside once more.
—
“Yasmine, wake up.”
A familiar voice pierced through the fog. Her body was ice-cold.
She opened her eyes to find Joaquin sitting beside her bed. When he saw her awake, his expression softened slightly.
“Yasmine, are you hungry? I had porridge made for you.”
He adjusted the pillows and reached out to help her sit up, but she shoved him away with all her strength.
His face darkened instantly, his tone sharp with anger.
“Yasmine, isn’t it enough that you’ve already hurt Annie this badly? You did wrong—you should pay the price!”
Yasmine’s hands twisted in the bedsheet, her voice breaking.
“Joaquin, if you’re going to accuse me, at least bring proof! Did you see me hit her?”
“Proof?” he barked. “She’s in the hospital, barely alive! Isn’t that proof enough?”
He seized her throat, his fingers tightening as he hissed, “Maybe I was too soft on you before. Is that why you’ve become this kind of woman?”
His grip grew stronger. Her eyes blurred as tears streamed down her face. When he finally released her, she coughed violently, dragging in air with difficulty. The deep bruises on her neck stood out against her pale skin, and even he seemed momentarily unsettled by the sight.
“I don’t want to hear your excuses,” he said coldly. “You should be grateful Annie woke up. Because of you, people are questioning her medical integrity. You’ll appear in public and apologize—prove her innocence.”
His words hit her like a bucket of ice water.
Her daughter, Janna, was still in the hospital with severe pneumonia—her condition was uncertain. And now he wanted her to defend the woman who ruined her life?
“Why should I?” she hissed through gritted teeth. “Keep dreaming.”
Her nails dug into her palms until they bled, but he merely stared down at her, unbothered.
“Don’t forget,” he said, voice low and threatening, “your mother’s company is still under investigation. Whether she walks out of there safely… depends entirely on you.”
The strength drained from her body.
‘Depends on me?’ she thought.
Hot tears filled her eyes. Every time, Joaquin used Annie to push her into despair. And every time, she was the one who broke.
The bruises on her neck throbbed with every breath.
If someone had to yield, it could only be her.
“…Fine,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’ll do it. But I want to see my mother first.”
Joaquin studied her for a long time, pacing back and forth in silence. Nearly an hour passed before he finally nodded in reluctant agreement.
The butler escorted Yasmine to the venue where the Romero family’s press conference was being held.
At the center of the stage, Joaquin sat beside Annie, his expression sharp with warning. The moment Yasmine stepped into view, every light in the room turned toward her.
“I’m here today,” she began calmly, “to publicly apologize to Dr. Schultz. For the misunderstanding I caused her, I sincerely apologize.”
Annie descended from the stage, a faint, gracious smile curving her lips as she grabbed Yasmine’s arm.
“Since you’ve apologized, let’s put the past behind us.”
Her voice was sweet, but her grip was cruelly tight—Yasmine tried to pull away, only to realize she couldn’t.
“I need to use the restroom, come with me,” Annie said with a smile.
“Then let Joaquin accompany you,” Yasmine flatly replied.
Annie shook her head. “Joaquin still has work to do. I’ll be fine as long as Yasmine takes care of me.”
Dozens of eyes were watching. Under that pressure, Yasmine could only comply.
She waited outside the restroom on the second floor, arms crossed, when a masked man suddenly rushed toward her—a glinting knife in his hand.
Her breath hitched in terror. She spun toward the staircase to flee—only to find another man waiting there, a jagged scar slashing across his cheek.
The scarred man swung a baseball bat—
Crack!
Pain exploded across her forehead.
Yasmine staggered, clutching her head, her knees buckling.
Before she could rise, another blow landed brutally on her shoulder and abdomen.
“Someone… help… me…” Her voice trembled, fading to a whisper. Through her blurring vision, she thought she saw someone rushing up the stairs.
“What are you doing?!”
The shouting grew distant, muffled, until the world went completely dark.
“Yasmine! Yasmine, wake up! Don’t be scared—I’m taking you to the hospital!”
When she opened her eyes again, the world was washed in sterile blue. Curtains, walls, light—everything blurred together. Pain rippled through every nerve.
“Yasmine… you’re awake.”
Joaquin’s voice came faintly. He barely glanced at her before focusing on his phone, brows drawn tight.
“Yasmine, you went to the restroom with Annie. Where is she now?”
His tone was sharp, interrogative. Yasmine froze. So that was why he’d been waiting for her to wake up—not out of worry, but to ask about Annie.
“I don’t know,” she said coldly.
He frowned. “You’re not lying to me, are you?”
Yasmine let out a hollow laugh. Seven years of marriage, and there wasn’t a shred of trust left between them.
“Joaquin, I only found out today that you held the press conference here. I’m the one who got attacked. Are you sure the people who ambushed me weren’t sent by Annie?”
His eyes widened, disbelief flooding his face. “Yasmine! Don’t project your own malice onto everyone else!”
“The attackers were targeting you. But now she’s the one missing—and you still have the nerve to suspect her? Have you no conscience at all?”
His voice broke into anger, trembling with outrage—not for Yasmine, but for Annie.
Yasmine’s lips curved into a bitter smile. Of course. Annie would always be his pure, untouchable “first love.” And she—Yasmine—was nothing more than a discarded rag doll, always to blame, never believed.
She’d already grown used to disappointment. So this time, she didn’t bother explaining.
After a long silence, his voice softened. “Yasmine, I know you’ve been unhappy lately. Once her medication research is approved and hits the market, I’ll take you and Janna abroad for a break, alright?”
Her gaze remained steady, empty.
He said the same thing every year. And every year, he broke his promise.
Now their daughter was seven—and she no longer believed a word he said.
At the door, Joaquin’s fingers tapped furiously on his phone. His brows knitted tighter by the second. Then, suddenly, a message popped up on the screen—whatever it said made his face darken instantly.
“Yasmine! You still dare say you didn’t lie to me?!” Joaquin’s furious roar filled the hospital room as he hurled his phone toward the woman on the bed.
The phone struck the metal railing with a sharp clang, the sound echoing in her ears until everything buzzed.
“Look at it clearly!” he shouted. “See for yourself what this is!”
On the screen played a video sent by his assistant—A woman wearing Yasmine’s limited-edition coat was handing a thick envelope of cash to the scarred man who had beaten her unconscious.
“Yasmine, have I not treated you well enough? Do you really need Annie dead before you can feel satisfied?!”
He jabbed a finger toward the screen, voice trembling with rage.
“This coat—this exact coat—is the one I bought you for your birthday last year in France. And you wore it… to do this! To hire thugs?”
Joaquin’s hand shot out, seizing Yasmine’s chin so tightly his fingers dug into her skin. Hatred blazed in his eyes, dark and suffocating.
Yes, the coat was hers.
But half a year ago, when she brought Janna to the hospital, she’d been attacked and robbed. Her clothes, her bag, even her identification were all gone.
“The woman in that video isn’t me,” she said through clenched teeth.
“You’re still denying it?!” His grip tightened, his nails slicing into her cheek until beads of blood welled up.
“If it’s not you, then who else could it be? Annie is kind and innocent—you’re the one who can’t stand her!”
Yasmine’s face was pale, her expression cold and lifeless. “Joaquin, I said—it’s not me.”
But he didn’t listen.
He dragged her out of the hospital, shoving her into the car, and drove her to an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city.
The moment they arrived, he grabbed an iron rod and slammed it against a concrete pillar with a deafening clang!
“Mom!” Yasmine screamed when she saw her mother bound and trembling nearby.
“Joaquin! Don’t touch my mother! Don’t you dare!”
Tears streamed down her face as she pleaded, voice breaking. “I didn’t do anything! I don’t know why Annie disappeared—please, I really don’t know!”
Her nails dug into her palms until blood pooled in her fists. She couldn’t believe this man—the one she’d loved and trusted for over a decade—could look at her with such hatred.
“Ten seconds,” Joaquin said coldly. “If you don’t tell me where Annie is, I’ll strike once. Your mother has a weak heart—how many blows do you think she can survive?”
“Tell me where she is, and I’ll let your mother go.”
Yasmine stumbled forward, only for him to grab her arm and twist it violently.
Crack!
Her shoulder dislocated, and he flung her to the ground like trash.
“I said—where is she!” he roared.
Enduring the pain, Yasmine gasped, “Joaquin, we’ve known each other for more than ten years—I’ve never lied to you! My mother has nothing to do with this! Her company is gone. She’s lost everything—please, just let her go!”
She trembled, clutching her injured arm, kneeling at his feet as she begged.
But ten seconds passed.
And Joaquin raised the iron rod.
“No!”
Yasmine broke free from his grip, throwing herself over her mother’s frail body.
The iron rod came crashing down—
Bang!
A sickening sound tore through the air.
Yasmine’s body convulsed, her head snapping back as cold sweat drenched her forehead. The strength drained from her arms, but she still shielded her mother with her body.
Thud.
Her lips turned ashen, pain shooting through her back, crawling up her spine until every breath burned.
It hurt so much.
Blood spread across the back of her white blouse, the crimson soaking through the fabric, vivid and horrifying.
“Yasmine! Are you okay?”
Joaquin’s voice trembled as he knelt and lifted her into his arms. Just then, his phone rang—it was his assistant.
“Sir, Miss Annie has been found,” came the voice on the other end. “But she’s seriously injured and still unconscious at the hospital.”
Joaquin froze, eyes darting to the photo on his screen—Annie’s head wrapped in gauze. His expression shifted from fear to shock, then to guilt.
He carefully laid Yasmine back on the ground and called for an ambulance.
“Yasmine,” he said quietly, “wait here. I’ve already called an ambulance for you.”
He stood up, voice low, trembling slightly.
“When you’re discharged… I’ll come pick you up.”
Yasmine and her mother were rushed to the hospital.
Just as the nurses wheeled her mother toward the operating room, an impatient voice cut through the hallway—
“Go call the doctor out!”
“Annie says she’s not feeling well—what’s your doctor doing?”
“Mr. Romero,” the head nurse tried to explain, flustered, “two of our surgeons are currently on training assignments. The only available doctor right now… is the one performing surgery on your wife’s mother.”
On the bench nearby, Yasmine sat pale and trembling, clutching her bleeding back as she stared at Joaquin.
Her mother had suffered another heart attack and a shattered collarbone.
Annie was merely “feeling unwell.” And yet Joaquin couldn’t decide whom to save.
Yasmine lowered her head in despair. Warm blood continued to soak through her gown, her breathing growing shallow until her body finally gave way. She collapsed onto the cold, sterile floor.
“Joaquin, my head hurts…”
Annie emerged from the ward, clutching his arm weakly. “I can’t see clearly… please help me. If I go blind, I won’t be able to do anything. I don’t want to live like that…”
Joaquin’s fists tightened. His gaze flickered briefly toward the woman lying on the floor—then hardened his resolve.
This was her fault, he told himself. Yasmine had brought this upon herself. Everything that had happened was all her own doing.
Annie, on the other hand, was kind and pure. She had been slandered, falsely accused, nearly killed because of Yasmine’s jealousy. Whatever she suffered now was only what she deserved.
“Call the surgeon out. Check on Annie first,” Joaquin ordered.
Yasmine pressed her trembling hand to the floor, trying to push herself up.
“Yasmine, this is your retribution. Stay where you are and accept it.” His voice was like frost—cold, cutting, merciless.
Retribution. What a fitting word.
Yasmine laughed bitterly, though no sound escaped her lips. She knew that no matter what she said, Joaquin wouldn’t believe her.
As her consciousness faded, the last thing she heard was the doctor shouting for a stretcher.
When she opened her eyes again, she was back in a hospital room.
Standing before her was Estella, Joaquin’s mother.
“Yasmine,” the older woman said flatly, placing a passport, a ticket, and a stack of cash on the bedside table.
“Here. Take them. I don’t want to see you come back.”
Yasmine met her gaze, voice hoarse but steady. “Don’t worry. I’ll never come back.”
She longed to disappear—to leave this cursed place forever.
Estella seemed about to say more when the door suddenly opened. Joaquin stepped in, his expression unreadable.
She pressed her lips together, murmured a few words to him, and quietly left the room.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Joaquin asked sharply, his brow furrowed. He reached for the medical chart at her bedside, scanning it.
“It says you’ll need a hundred days to recover. Don’t think about anything else. Just stay put and behave.”
He set the papers down, a faint softness creeping into his tone.
“You should be grateful Annie is fine. No fractures—just some superficial injuries. If anything had happened to her, not even your death could make up for it.”
Yasmine let out a soft, humorless laugh.
Fractures? Superficial injuries?
That was all—and yet he said she’d owe her life for it?
Her fingers clenched tightly around the bedsheet, eyes flashing like shards of glass.
“I don’t want to see you.”
Joaquin froze, disbelief flashing across his face. “What did you just say?”
She met his gaze, her voice was icy and sharp. “Are you deaf? I said get out!”
With a snarl, he kicked over the chair beside him, fury radiating from every pore. “You’re the one who made this mess! I’m helping you! Do you even understand that?”
“If something had happened to Annie, do you think you’d still be breathing right now?”
“You’ve committed a crime, Yasmine! Damn it—maybe I really was blind all these years!”
He slammed the door so hard the walls shook.
Yasmine didn’t flinch. Her expression was calm—almost detached—as if looking at a stranger.
After a long silence, she reached into her bag and pulled out a hospital information slip—room assignments for her mother and for Janna.
She left her ward, climbing from the second to the third floor.
When she opened Janna’s room door, her blood ran cold.
Annie stood by the child’s bed in a hospital gown.
“Get away from her!”
Yasmine shoved her aside, sending the pills in Annie’s palm scattering across the floor.
The monitors around Janna were silent—all the tubes and sensors had been removed. The little girl’s face was pale, her small body trembling as she choked and convulsed.
“Haven’t you done enough?! Janna already has severe pneumonia—do you want her dead?”
Annie’s lips curled into a chilling smile.
“Of course I do. As long as she’s alive, Joaquin will always think of you. Only when your daughter dies will he finally forget you and belong to me. And once she’s gone, the rumors about my research will disappear too.”
She leaned close, her voice low and venomous.
“No one will ever believe you. Why don’t you just die quietly with your daughter? That would save Joaquin the trouble of dirtying his hands.”
The truth hit like a bucket of ice over Yasmine’s head.
So Joaquin knew—he had allowed this.
He’d let Annie touch their daughter.
Rage ignited in her chest. Yasmine grabbed Annie by the hair and slammed her head against the wall.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
“Ah! Yasmine—you dare hit me?!”
Yasmine’s fury only grew as she stared at that smug, twisted face. She raised her hand again—but before she could strike, someone seized her wrist.
It was Joaquin.
His face was clouded with rage. “Yasmine, you lunatic!”
He shoved her to the floor. Yasmine coughed, clutching the bed frame, laughing bitterly.
“A lunatic? Do you even know what Annie just tried to do? She was killing Janna—for you!”
Joaquin frowned, turning toward Annie.
Annie shook her head, feigning innocence as she opened her hand to reveal the pills.
“I didn’t do anything, Joaquin. These are for my experiment. I just needed Janna’s final data sample. You promised you’d help me finish it.”
She covered her forehead with one hand, tears falling like rain.
“If I’ve done something wrong, I’ll apologize to Yasmine. Please, just let me finish this last test. She can hit me, scold me—I won’t complain…”
Her trembling voice broke off in sobs.
Joaquin’s anger exploded.
“Yasmine! When did you learn to twist the truth like this? Annie’s research will save lives—she’s doing something good for the world! Not everyone is as cruel as you!”
He pulled Annie into his arms and turned to Yasmine with disgust. “Kneel. Apologize to Annie.”
Kneel?
Yasmine’s nails dug so deep into her palms she nearly drew blood.
He believed everything Annie said. Every. Single. Word.
“I won’t apologize. She’s lying,” she intoned coldly. “Or what—are you going to strangle me next, just to please her?”
For a moment, something flickered in Joaquin’s eyes—hesitation, perhaps—but it vanished as quickly as it came.
Annie shook her head softly, pretending to be kind.
“Forget it, Joaquin. Forcing her won’t help. If she hates me so much, I’ll apply to study abroad. I’ll stay out of your lives from now on.”
She limped toward the door, and Joaquin instantly swept her into his arms.
“You’re not going anywhere. She’s the one who’s wrong. Tell me how you want me to deal with her.”
A faint smile tugged at Annie’s lips, though it vanished just as quickly.
“Yasmine lived too comfortably. Maybe she needs to learn some compassion. Let her volunteer at the Third Hospital—taking care of sick, abandoned elders.”
Joaquin nodded without hesitation.
“That’s a good idea.”
Yasmine clung to the bed, refusing to leave her daughter’s side—until Joaquin struck her across the head.
The world went black.
When Yasmine woke up, she was already at the Third Hospital.
The first thing that hit her was the stench—thick, nauseating, and impossible to ignore.
It didn’t take long for her to realize this wasn’t a hospital for the elderly.
It was a psychiatric ward.
And she wasn’t here to “take care of” anyone—she was trapped among a group of unstable, violent men.
The first time, one of them cornered her, she screamed until her voice broke.
A rough hand clamped over her mouth, a long rope wound around her neck, tightening until her vision blurred.
Someone laughed as she choked for air. Another struck her across the face—once, twice, again.
Pills she couldn’t identify were shoved between her lips and down her throat until she gagged.
For half a month, she lived like that—in a haze of bruises and fear, her reality warped by trauma and drugs.
She stopped knowing what was real and what was a hallucination.
So when Joaquin finally appeared before her, she thought it was another cruel dream.
“How did you end up like this?” His voice carried disgust more than concern.
He took a step back, his expression twisting at the sight of her—hair matted and yellowed, clothes filthy and stiff with dried stains, her lips pale and cracked, her body reduced to skin and bone.
Yasmine half-opened her eyes, staring past him with empty indifference.
Joaquin frowned and stepped forward, but Annie quickly ran up to clutch his arm. “See? Isn’t this pitiful look exactly what she wanted—to make you feel sorry for her?”
Joaquin paused. The disgust in his gaze deepened. “Annie’s experiment results were successfully published today,” he said coldly. “She insisted we bring you back for the celebration banquet.”
Yasmine’s stomach turned at the thought, but he didn’t spare her a glance.
Two bodyguards grabbed her arms and shoved her into a separate car.
‘It was finally over,’ she thought.
At the hotel, she cleaned up as best she could and changed into a dress.
Just as she opened the door to leave, Annie stepped in front of her, blocking the way.
“After everything those lunatics did to you, you still have the nerve to live?”
Her voice was dripping with venom. “You know that medicine I fed your daughter? It causes suffocation. I heard you have asthma too. Those pills they forced down your throat—didn’t they taste familiar? Too bad they didn’t finish the job.”
Yasmine didn’t flinch. She clutched her phone tighter, eyes flicking to the message on her screen.
[Someone’s waiting downstairs to take you to the airport.]
Her gaze slid toward the open hotel window, her tone suddenly turned calm—almost mocking.
“So… did you get what you wanted?”
Annie’s expression darkened.
Yasmine leaned casually against the window frame, her voice low but edged with challenge.
“You schemed so much, but in the end, Joaquin and I still share the same marriage certificate. He only asked me to apologize to you—did he ever say he’d divorce me?”
She smiled faintly. “In his heart, you’ll always be the outsider. I’m his wife.”
Annie’s face twisted with fury.
“He told me,” Yasmine added, her tone light but cutting, “once he helps you finish that research report, he’ll cut ties with you completely.”
Annie snapped. She lunged forward, fingers digging cruelly into Yasmine’s shoulders.
“You bitch!”
Yasmine met her glare with a smirk. “So what? As long as I’m alive, you’ll never take my place.”
“What, are you planning to kill me now?”
Annie’s laughter grew wild.
“Kill you? Yes. Once you’re dead, Joaquin’s wife’s position will be empty, and no one will come between us again!”
“Besides, your half-dead daughter and dying mother will be joining you soon. I might as well send you all together. Joaquin trusts me completely—he’ll never suspect a thing!”
Then she violently shoved her.
Yasmine’s body tipped backward, her feet slipping off the edge. The world spun.
The wind roared. Her hair whipped across her face. For a fleeting second, she smiled.
‘So this is what freedom feels like,’ she murmured.
As she fell, she didn’t hit the pavement.
She landed on a soft air cushion, and the next second, a pair of strong hands helped her up.
Her rescuers—hired bodyguards—hurried her into a car waiting nearby.
When the plane lifted into the night sky, Yasmine looked out through the small window.
Below her, the city lights of San Diego flickered faintly in the darkness.
For the first time in years, her chest felt light.
She could finally breathe again. She could finally leave this place that had trapped her for so long.
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