Ruth's POV
Every time Mackenzie stooped to her usual, tired tricks of jealousy, Shane always reacted the same way.
Back then, I felt as if the world had hurt me so badly, so deeply, that I could hardly breathe. I clung to him, begging for an explanation, desperate for some shred of comfort.
But now, at this moment, I felt only a sense of release.
'Yes, Shane. Think of me as a scheming, jealous woman. Think of me as vile. Then let me go. Let us never see each other again in this life.'
Right then, Shane's eyes flicked to my hand, bloodied beneath the fallen shelf, but instead of reaching for me, he turned away. He pressed a bandage gently onto the scratch on Mackenzie's forehead.
"You'll stay here," he said flatly. "Reflect on yourself."
Before locking the door, Mackenzie leaned in close, her breath brushing my ear as she whispered, "Ruth, this time, I'll make sure you die."
The heavy door closed behind her with a bang. Fueled by a survival instinct, I lunged forward using all my remaining strength.
But before I could even move, Shane's boot struck me square in the chest, sending me crashing to the floor. I couldn't rise again.
"Ruth," his voice rang coldly above me, "reflect until you can be obedient again—just like before."
Just like before?
As if the person I once was still existed. As if the word 'before' still meant anything.
The basement was cold, damp, and lightless.
I lived among rats and cockroaches, sometimes fighting them for scraps of food.
I lost count of how many times I woke, only to faint again from the agonizing pain in my fractured wrist.
With no signal, my phone served only as a clock, reminding me that time was slipping away.
The next time I opened my eyes, I realized it was the day the divorce agreement would come into effect.
And then I saw it: the basement door, once locked tight, now left slightly ajar.
A broken laugh slipped from my lips.
Tears welled up as I thought to myself, 'So even now, Shane, you can't bring yourself to give me more than a stingy scrap of mercy.'
And yet, for me, that scrap became salvation.
I might even thank him for giving me this one chance to end things between us.
But just as I was about to leave, a strange knocking echoed from the far wall of the basement.
Drawn by something I couldn't understand, I searched until I discovered a hidden panel. Behind it was a tight passageway.
Inside, huddled close together, were two gray-haired elders.
I crept closer, my heartbeat stuttering when I saw their faces. "Dad? Mom?"
My parents... why were my dead parents here?!
"Ruth…"
My mother's voice was hoarse, her hair was disheveled, and her body appeared frail. She rasped my name as if it were the last thread keeping her alive.
My father cradled a bowl of slop meant for dogs, his mind shattered, giggling to himself. I wrapped my arms around them, sobbing so violently it shook my bones. The pain in my broken wrist sharply reminded me—this was no dream. I held them tightly and wept, the pain in my wrist cutting through the fog; this was not a dream.
"Dad, Mom, I'm sorry! I've been such a useless daughter…"
My mother tried to soothe me with what little strength she had.
"It's not your fault, Ruth. If it weren't for that beast, Shane, how could our family have fallen to this?" Her voice broke, and she coughed blood into her palm.
Three years ago, my parents were proud and powerful, giants in the business world. Now, because of my foolish marriage, they have been reduced to this—abused, starved, beaten.
Every cell in my body shook with rage.
Then and there, my mother told me everything.
How Shane had locked them in the basement, feeding them rotted food and dog scraps.
How Mackenzie had tortured them, beating them until their flesh was bruised beyond recognition, until my father lost his mind.
And it all stemmed from a few words from Shane's mother, Viola.
"She's from a rich family," the old woman had warned. "Their company's worth tens of millions. She's not someone we can control. If she rebels one day, you'll suffer for it. Better to get rid of her parents and say they died in an accident. That way, she'll be alone, with no one to rely on. She'll be obedient to our Ackerman forever."
Realizing this, I dug my nails so hard into my arm that blood welled in tiny rows of scarlet.
With that, I swore to myself, 'Shane, divorce can never settle this debt between us. You dared to touch my parents. I'll make you pay with blood!'
"Dad, Mom, let's get out of here first."
With my ruined hand, I dragged them onto my back, hauling us through the hidden passage.
As we emerged into the light of day, my phone rang.
It was Atty. Montgomery.
"Miss Coleman, the evidence you provided has been verified. The divorce agreement will take effect today."
Sunlight spilled over my eyes, but it no longer warmed me. It was colder than ever.
"Atty. Montgomery," I answered, my voice steady, icy as steel. "This isn't just about divorce anymore. I want Shane to spend the rest of his life in prison."
