Sydney walked out of the hospital by herself and headed straight to a divorce lawyer.
The divorce papers were already prepared. The lawyer glanced at her seriously. “Ma’am, Mr. Stryker asked me to pass along a message.”
He relayed, “Don’t forget—you have my family behind you. Even if everything falls apart, someone will be there to catch you.”
Sydney’s eyes stung, and she clenched the papers tightly in her hand.
She had been reckless—leaving the Strykers to return to her own, stubbornly marrying Preston despite knowing better. Now, she knew just how ridiculously wrong she had been.
All along, the man who truly loved her in this world was in the Strykers.
With that realization, she took the divorce agreement and went to the company to find Preston.
But she hadn’t even reached the upper floor when his assistant stopped her.
With a blank expression, the assistant said, “Sir Preston is in a meeting. He doesn’t have time to see you.”
A chill swept through Sydney’s eyes. She should have guessed Preston had cheated. Otherwise, how could his assistant speak to her like this?
At that moment, Savannah arrived.
Seeing Sydney, her face darkened. Crossing her arms, she sneered, “What are you doing here? Preston doesn’t want to see you at all. Girl, take my advice—wake up and stop clinging to him. The woman he loves is me.”
Sydney returned the cold gaze, holding up the divorce papers. “If you don’t want to be the shameful mistress your whole life, then have Preston sign this.”
Savannah took the document, surprised and hesitant for a moment. It didn’t take long before greed flashed in her eyes as she realized they were genuine divorce papers.
“You’re really divorcing Preston?” she asked, trying to mask her excitement.
But Sydney just made a move to leave. Fearing she might change her mind, Savannah wasted no time; she pushed the meeting room door open.
This time, the assistant didn’t even try to stop the visitor. His boss had specifically told Savannah she could enter anywhere freely.
When Preston saw her, there was no trace of annoyance at being interrupted. Instead, his expression softened as he asked her gently.
“Savannah, what brings you here?”
Savannah flipped straight to the last page. “Preston, sign here.”
He didn’t even glance at it; he just signed his name.
Seeing how easy it was for him, Sydney let out a bitter smile.
‘So this is what it means when he loves someone—meetings can be interrupted, documents can be signed without a glance,’ she thought.
She had once foolishly thought he loved her. ‘Damn, that’s hilarious,’ she thought to herself.
Savannah handed the signed divorce papers back to Sydney. “Here. Don’t pester him again.”
Sydney took them and went straight to the clerk’s office.
She glanced outside; rain had started, cold and fine, whipping through the wind. She wrapped her coat tighter around herself, still shivering.
When she stepped back into the villa, she saw Preston and Savannah on the couch, entwined in intimacy.
Sydney turned a blind eye and headed upstairs.
But Savannah wasn’t done with her.
“Hey, Sydney. You grew up in the countryside, didn’t you? You must be good at cooking, right? I haven’t had much of an appetite lately. I want some soup made by you.”
Sydney’s face remained blank. “I’m not your maid,” she replied flatly.
Savannah pouted and whined at Preston. “Preston, I just want some soup. But she won’t even make it for me. Is she still mad that we let Loki stay in Julien’s room?”
Preston frowned, his eyes darkening as he glanced at Sydney. “It’s just a bowl of soup. You’ve used to make it before. If Savannah wants it, make it for her.”
Sydney froze. At that point, it felt like all the love she had poured out had gone to the dogs.
She had been pampered by the Strykers since childhood—her foster parents and Brooks had treated her like a little princess, never letting her touch chores.
She had learned to cook only for Preston because he was picky and refused anything the servants made. Feeling sorry for him, she took the initiative to learn.
Her hands had been burned with blisters more than a dozen times, every finger cut and scarred, before she finally mastered the skill.
And now that had become the very reason he bossed around her.
But Sydney sneered, firmly enunciating, “I won’t do it.”
She turned to leave when Preston’s face darkened. He barked, “Stop! If you want Julien’s ashes, go make the goddamn soup!”
Sydney spun around, disbelief and rage igniting. “Preston! What have you done?! You dug up Julien’s ashes?!”
Preston frowned at her furious gaze.
Savannah, pretending to reason, stoked the fire. “Don’t blame Preston, Sydney. After Chicago returned to the country, he wasn’t feeling well. Someone said some unclean spirit was harming him, so Preston had Julien’s ashes dug up.”
Sydney glared at Preston. “You fucking dug up Julien’s ashes?! Aren’t you afraid of karma?”
Savannah clutched her mouth, gasping. “Sydney! How can you curse Preston like that?”
Preston’s expression turned menacing. “Get lost! Make the soup!”
Sydney’s chest heaved violently, rage threatening to scorch her sanity.
Her Julien had been so obedient, so gentle, tormented by illness in life, and now, even in death, he was disturbed.
She couldn’t let him suffer further.
For him, she went to the kitchen.
The soup was ready when Savannah suddenly cried out, “Ouch! My hand! Sydney! Why did you pour this hot soup on me?!”
Hearing the panic, Preston rushed over and held Savannah in his arms.
His gaze, dark and murderous, shot to Sydney. “Do you want to die?!”
Sydney stood tall, her back straight. “I didn’t do it. She’s pretending.”
Veins bulging on his forehead, his eyes cold as steel, Preston suddenly pressed Sydney’s hand into the boiling soup.
“Ahhh!”
Her scream of agony tore through the room. Waves of searing pain crashed through every nerve ending, her hand’s skin instantly reddened, blisters swelling and spreading her skin. The sight of it was grotesque and alarming to look at.
She bit her lip hard, body convulsing in agony, struggling desperately but unable to escape the searing agony that reached her bones.
Her tears mingled with sweat, blurring her vision.
After a while, Preston finally let go but hit her in the belly. “Savannah treats you like a sister, but you’re so wicked you purposely tried to burn her hand! If anything happens to her, I swear I will never forgive you!”
After that, he dashed off with Savannah to the hospital.
Meanwhile, Sydney lay on the floor, blood pooling beneath her. She knew exactly what that meant.
Her face was pale as death. The pain was worse than death itself.
