Sydney lifted her hand to caress her lower belly. The surprise she had planned for Preston no longer felt necessary—after today, there was nothing left to tell him.
She turned and walked toward the cemetery.
Today was Julien’s birthday. Alone, Sydney knelt in front of her son’s grave.
The tombstone was cold and bare, not a single flower laid there. Preston hadn’t even glanced at his son once.
The night air was chilling, but not nearly as cold as the hollow ache in Sydney’s chest.
‘My baby… You could have survived if only your father hadn’t given your heart to Chicago instead,’ she thought, her chest aching and suffocating her.
She failed to protect him, and she blamed herself for that.
Her fingers trembled as they brushed over Julien’s face etched into stone. “My baby… those who hurt you—they’ll get what they deserve…” she promised through clenched teeth.
Exhausted, she dragged herself home. But when she pushed open the door, the scene that greeted her ripped her chest apart—Preston and Savannah were celebrating Chicago’s birthday.
The table was laden with food, a cake pristine and sweet, and the three of them wore smiles that seemed to mock her grief.
Preston’s long, elegant fingers shelled lobster one by one, carefully placing the meat on Savannah’s plate.
The tenderness in his gaze stabbed at Sydney like knives.
He had always been obsessive about cleanliness. Every time he ate lobster, she had shelled each one for him. And now… he was doing it for Savannah.
Chicago stood on his chair, yelling for cake. Preston didn’t scold him at all; he cut the cake and gave him a slice, coaxing him gently and patiently.
The scene reminded Sydney of her own son, the memory of him so painful she had to catch her breath.
Preston had never once celebrated a birthday with Julien. The father that he was had been “too busy,” and when he was home, he was stern. ‘Boys shouldn’t be delicate,’ he would say, never embracing Julien, never feeding him at the table.
Julien had died without ever seeing his father celebrate him. Meanwhile, Savannah’s son easily won Preston’s affection.
Sydney bit down on her trembling lips, refusing to let the tears fall.
Savannah noticed her and smiled faintly. “Oh, Sydney, you’re home. Why so quiet? Can’t stand to see Chicago and me?”
Preston lifted his head, and his gaze fell on Sydney. His once relaxed features quickly twisted with displeasure.
“Come on, Sydney. Savannah is your sister. She and Chicago just returned to the country, so they’ll be staying here from now on. As the older sister, you should be more understanding. Don’t try to compete with her in everything.”
Sydney’s lips curled into a bitter, mocking smile. “Preston… Do you even know what day it is today?”
He frowned but didn’t respond.
Her eyes flared red as she forced the emotion down. “It’s Julien’s birthday, too.”
Her Julien lay alone in the cold cemetery, and his father hadn’t even looked at him. Yet here Preston was, celebrating Savannah’s son.
Was this man even human?
For a brief moment, guilt flickered across his eyes.
Savannah and Chicago had just returned to the country today, and it was the boy’s birthday. There were too many things going on; Preston had forgotten it was also Julien’s birthday, too.
“It’s Chicago’s birthday. I couldn’t leave…” he explained.
Before he could finish what he was saying, Sydney laughed bitterly and turned away.
She didn’t want to hear how much Preston adored Chicago—that only deepened her grief for Julien.
She returned to her room. Savannah followed, dripping fake concern.
“Sydney,” she said, “I know Julien’s death is hard for you. But he was born with a congenital heart defect. His life was suffering, death… was a release for him.”
Sydney shivered. Julien was her deepest wound, and Savannah deliberately tore at it.
Unable to restrain herself, she raised her hand across Savannah’s face.
“What are you doing?!” Preston’s cold voice cut through the air.
Savannah clutched her face and leaned into him. “Preston, I was only trying to show concern for her. And yet… she hit me! Does she not want me and Chicago to stay here?”
Preston’s eyes darkened. The next second, his hand came down on Sydney with full force.
It was so strong that the world spun in Sydney’s eyes, her ears ringing from the blow.
“From today,” Preston announced, “the master bedroom goes to Savannah. You move to the guest room!”
Feeling something wet by her ear, Sydney reached up and touched warm, sticky, and red liquid.
Sydney’s eyes widened in disbelief as they stared at Preston.
Savannah then softly said, “Sydney, that look… You mean you don’t want to give me the master bedroom?”
Preston looked at Sydney with disgust. “Such jealousy. Perhaps I was too good to you these past years. Since you have forgotten your place… then maybe the confinement room will help you reflect.”
The words echoed in her head. ‘Confinement room?!’
Before she could protest, she was dragged into a dark and airtight room.
Worse, she had claustrophobia.
In an instant, panic and suffocation hit her in tandem. “Let me out! Preston, I’m scared of the dark! Let me out!”
Outside, Preston’s brow furrowed, a moment of hesitation softening him, but then Savannah’s whisper reached him.
“Hey, are you feeling sorry for her? She grew up in the countryside, remember? She can’t be scared of the dark. She’s faking it. Five years ago, she forced me abroad and stole you from me… Now, she’s playing the same games.”
Preston knelt beside Savannah. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he reassured her, leaving Sydney trapped.
Her heart sank as their footsteps faded.
He had really locked her in here.
Tears spilled uncontrollably. She curled up, digging her nails into her flesh, biting her lips until they bled.
In her bloodshot eyes burned nothing but hatred.
In the dead of night, warm liquid splashed her face, the stench hitting her.
She snapped her eyes open in terror. A massive dog’s head loomed above her.
“Ahhh!” she screamed.
The next second, sharp teeth sank into her arm.
She struggled violently, but there was no escape. Flesh tore from her arm, thigh, and back.
The sealed room was filled with the stench of blood.
Crawling to the door while covered in blood, she cried out for help with all her strength. “Someone! Save me… Preston, help me! Let me out!”
But no matter how she screamed, the door stayed tightly shut.
Drawn by the scent of blood, the dog grew even more frenzied, lunging for her neck.
“Ugh—”
At that point, pain exploded through her body, and she coughed up a mouthful of blood. Shortly after, she blacked out.
