Back then, when he was dying in front of me, he wiped away my tears with the same words.
“Rachel, it’s okay. I’m here.”
So he really could say the exact same thing to another woman.
Watching Michael carry Olivia out to the mansion gates, I raised my hand, and my men quickly surrounded them.
“Sorry, Michael.”
At that signal, they launched their attack.
Michael had once been my father’s second-in-command, and these men had shared life-and-death battles with him. Yet for Olivia, he didn’t hesitate—he kicked one of them away and broke through with her in his arms.
In that moment, it felt like five years ago again, when he had stormed a warehouse single-handedly just to rescue me from kidnappers.
I collapsed to the ground, watching his vanishing back. After holding it in for so long, my tears finally broke free.
Wiping my face roughly, I stood. Harris had already ordered the blood cleaned from the floor.
Out of the shower, I washed away five years of grime. But my phone buzzed on the bed, over and over.
It was a photo from an unknown number. The pale face in it was one I knew all too well.
【Don’t think getting rid of my baby means Michael will return to you. He said once I recover, we’ll have a second, a third child.】
【He nearly died giving me a blood transfusion. Rachel Evans, no matter how much you once meant to him, now Michael loves only me!】
The final image was Olivia and Michael holding hands, fingers entwined, with a dazzling diamond ring flashing on her finger.
I screenshotted everything Olivia had sent me and forwarded it to Michael.
Staring at that radiant diamond, I tossed the matching necklace and earrings into the trash.
I had designed them myself. Michael had spent three sleepless nights crafting them by hand. He once told me he’d place the ring on my finger when we married.
But now the ring sat on another woman’s hand, and the rest felt dirty to me.
That night, lying in bed, I received Michael’s reply:
“She’s just a young woman who lost her child. She’s upset. Why stoop to her level?”
Seeing his words of defense, I laughed coldly and shut off my phone.
For several days, Michael didn’t return. When he finally did, his pale face was etched with anxiety.
“What is it? Your delicate flower died? Or are you here to take revenge on me?”
I trimmed fresh lilies without looking at him. Lilies were good—unlike roses, they weren’t ostentatious.
“Olivia’s missing.”
Michael’s voice was hoarse.
I didn’t stop my work. “So you think I kidnapped your delicate flower?”
“Rachel, I told you, Olivia isn’t like us. She’s clean.”
He rushed forward and grabbed the scissors from my hand.
“Rachel, don’t hurt her. Please.”
That word—please—froze me.
Even when I was kidnapped, he had never begged anyone. Yet now, for another woman, he begged me.
The pain pierced my chest like a thousand arrows.
I looked up, meeting his desperate eyes, then twisted the scissors in my hand. The tip pressed into his chest.
“Michael, wasn’t stabbing your shoulder last time painful enough?”
