Ylona was slammed hard to the floor, her elbow scraping against shattered glass. Pain seared through her arm, and her brows knit tightly together.
A cold laugh echoed in her chest.
Rylee had a venomous tongue—and the moment Ylona tried to fight back, Cyrus rushed to her defense without hesitation.
Yet when their son was crying and begging for help with a bomb strapped to his body, that same man didn't lift a finger.
Now, he stood above her, looking down with icy disdain. “I was going to let you go. But since you don't know your place, it's time you learned a lesson.”
“Maybe next time you'll think twice before bullying Rylee.”
Ylona let out a sharp, mocking laugh and met his gaze.“What exactly did I do to her?”
Since childhood, Rylee had always been the best at playing the victim—always pretending to be weak and innocent after provoking others first.
Yet her father and Cyrus fell for the act every single time.
Ignoring Ylona's explanation, Cyrus barked at the servants, “Lock her in the basement. Don't let her come out unless I say so.”
And just like that, she was imprisoned—for three days.
No matter how she screamed or cried, no one came. Once a day, they would slide in a plate of stale food at night.
She knew this was Rylee's doing—and Cyrus was letting her get away with it.
On the third day, her phone rang endlessly—dozens of calls, all from the crematorium.
But the basement had poor reception. Even when she answered, they couldn't hear her voice.
One message after another came in.
[Miss Alvarez, your son Cedric is scheduled for cremation soon. Please come to the crematorium to send him off.]
[Two hours left until the scheduled time...]
[One hour remaining.]
Ylona went mad, pounding on the door, screaming until her voice was hoarse.
“Cyrus! isn’t this what you wanted? To crush my pride and force me to bow? Fine. I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please... just let me out!”
She cried for an hour straight, but no one answered. Not even the servants.
She tried to send out a message for help, but the signal was too weak. Nothing went through.
An our later, one final message arrived.
[Miss Alvarez, your child's cremation is complete. Please come to retrieve the ashes.]
Each notification shattered something inside her. Her heart went numb.
Staring at the photos of Cedric and Arden on her phone, the dam finally broke. Tears flooded her cheeks.
She could still hear Cyrus' voice from the past, full of tenderness and promises.
“Ylona, we're a family—a family of four. I'll always be your rock and our children's protector.”
Ylona let out a hollow, bitter laugh as she shook her head.
“Cyrus... the children are gone. So is the love. Everything we once had is gone.”
The emotional toll was too much. She fainted, collapsing in the basement. It wasn't until a servant came to deliver food that she was discovered and finally released.
As the evening set in, Ylona woke up. Realizing she was free, she didn't even stop to put on shoes—she ran barefoot to the crematorium.
—
Meanwhile, Cyrus had just returned home. When he heard she had fainted, a flicker of concern flitted through his eyes. He went to check on her only to find her room empty.
“Hah. I knew it. There's no way someone as healthy as her would just faint. It was all just another act,” he snickered.
Beside him, Rylee stoked the flames. “Ylona has always been good at pretending. It's no surprise she fooled the servants too.”
“But she's already been locked up for three days. That's enough. After all, she's still my sister. Even if she wronged me, I won't hold it against her.”
Compared to Rylee's kindness, Ylona seemed more and more unreasonable in Cyrus' eyes.
But then, at around eleven that night—Ylona returned.
Barefoot, with her hair in disarray, she held a small urn in her arms as she walked back into the villa.
Cyrus was downstairs working. The moment he saw her, something stirred in his chest—but it quickly turned to irritation.
“So you pretended to faint just to sneak out and grab a box of ashes?”
“You really are that vicious—just waiting for something bad to happen to Rylee, aren't you?”
Ylona's mind was buzzing. She couldn't help but laugh.
He hadn't even asked whose ashes she was holding—he simply condemned her on the spot.
Even if she told him it was their child—that Cedric's ashes were inside this very urn—he wouldn't believe her.
She was tired.
All she wanted now was to wait for the right moment, take her child, and leave this man forever.
She said nothing and turned to head upstairs.
Cyrus frowned and stepped in front of her.
“There's an auction in Los Angeles tomorrow. You're coming with me.”
Once, Ylona would've been happy to attend those events with him. It was his way of showing her off, of proving she mattered.
But now?
She no longer wanted anything to do with him.
“I'm not going.” Her voice was quiet and drained.
Cyrus' expression instantly darkened. He grabbed her wrist tightly and threatened, “If you don't go, I'll throw that urn away.”
