That small bed covered with blue dinosaur sheets was personally assembled by Liam back then, saying he wanted to give their son the best protection; Noah’s favorite stuffed dinosaur was still there—now tossed carelessly onto the floor, stained with dust. Vanessa had her head buried between Liam’s legs, indecent sounds filling the room, and on their wrists was unmistakably the unannounced Neural Empathy Sensor from Clara’s studio!
It was the device she spent countless nights on, revising hundreds of design drafts, created solely to ease Noah’s pain during his heart attacks! She remembered the first time she made a working prototype—Noah smiled and said, “Mommy is amazing. Noah doesn’t hurt anymore.” Yet now, a device forged from her love and bloodlike effort was being used by those two to indulge themselves!
Vanessa lifted her head, eyes watery and hazy with pleasure, purposely glancing toward the doorway, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Liam, this machine is really something. No wonder Clara sacrificed sleep over it… But if we use it like this, won’t she be mad?”
Liam followed her gaze and saw Clara standing pale-faced outside the door. Instead of guilt, a mocking smile curved his lips. He held Vanessa’s head in place, his tone both doting and cruel. “So what if she’s mad? It was always meant to be yours. Think of it as her making up for her ‘mistakes’—a gift to us.”
Shameful fluids stained Noah’s sheets, spreading an ugly mark across the blue dinosaur pattern.
Clara’s entire body shook violently. Her teeth clamped into her lip so hard she tasted blood but didn’t notice. Her nails dug hard into her palms, leaving bloody crescents. Rage, grief, humiliation—like a volcano ready to erupt—crushed against her throat until she could barely breathe.
This was her son. Liam’s biological son! Noah had been gone only a few days, his bones not yet cold, not even cremated—and Liam brought another woman into his room to commit such filth!
She couldn’t bear another second. She turned and bolted back to her room, slamming the door with a deafening *bang*, as if the sound could shut out the contamination outside. She curled up in the corner of her bed, burying her face in her knees. The suppressed cries erupted—raw and ripping.
“Noah… my Noah…” she whispered his name again and again, her heart feeling torn out of her chest, the pain so intense her whole body trembled. This house—once her entire world. Liam’s vows still lingered in her ears, Noah’s laughter still floated through the rooms, yet now, every precious fragment had been shattered by Liam’s own hand—destroyed beyond recognition.
She didn’t know how long had passed before the door opened again. Liam walked in wearing a bathrobe, the satisfied scent of lust still clinging to him, mixed with Vanessa’s perfume—Clara nearly gagged.
Seeing Clara crying in the corner surprised him for a moment before impatience hardened his expression. “Why are you crying? Looking like that brings misfortune. It’s unpleasant.”
Clara snapped her head up, her bloodshot eyes blazing. She wiped her face roughly, her voice rasping like sand grinding against stone. “Get out. Get out!”
Liam merely scoffed, throwing a bundle at her—it was Noah’s stained bedsheet. The pungent smell hit instantly, the marks upon it unmistakable. Clara’s stomach churned violently, and she retched.
“Wash it,” Liam ordered with absolute authority. “Noah had delicate skin. You always washed by hand before—don’t be lazy and use the machine.”
Before? The word struck Clara like a knife. Before, she cleaned Noah’s sheets so carefully—with baby-safe detergent, gently working each spot, terrified of irritating his skin. But now, this sheet—tainted and defiled—no longer resembled anything from their past.
She suddenly grabbed the sheet and hurled it against the wall. The stain smeared across the pristine surface like an ugly scar. She screamed, breaking apart. “Get out! I said get out!”
Liam watched her hysteria, a glint of twisted amusement in his eyes. He stepped closer, towering over her, his voice taunting and cruel. “What are you pretending for? You used to cling to me most. What’s this—jealous now that I treat Vanessa well?”
He turned to leave, but his gaze caught the half-full suitcase in the corner. The earlier amusement vanished. Liam’s pupils contracted, his steps faltered. He whipped around, voice turning ice cold. “What’s that?”
Clara stiffened, instinctively shaking her head. “None of your concern.”
“None of my concern?” Liam stormed forward and seized her neck, squeezing so hard she thought her bones would snap. His eyes were bloodshot, filled with madness, possessiveness, rage. “Clara, you want to leave?”
“I’m telling you, impossible! You’ll never leave me in this lifetime!” His breath hit her face—heavy with alcohol and violence. “You killed my mother, spoiled Noah, and now you want to run? You caused unforgivable mistakes—you’ll take the punishment. You’ll stay by my side and pay for it—for life!”
The suffocation crashed down like a wave. Clara’s face flushed red, her hands clawing at Liam’s arm, nails digging into his skin. Only choked sounds escaped her throat. She stared at the man whose eyes once held only tenderness and saw nothing but brutality now—and her heart sank into bottomless despair.
“I… won’t… leave…” she forced out with the last thread of strength.
Liam loosened his grip. Clara collapsed onto the floor, coughing violently, tears and snot mixing as she gasped for air.
After a long moment, her coughing eased. Liam still stood there, eyes locked on the suitcase, not moving to leave. Clara took a shaky breath, swallowing down the metallic taste in her throat, her voice weak. “I was just… just organizing the room. Too many things. Wanted to sort them.”
Liam visibly relaxed, the insanity fading slightly, leaving only coldness. He stared at her for a long moment—as though verifying her words—before finally turning and slamming the door behind him.
