Chapter 3

The next morning, I took an Uber to a law firm downtown.

Separating my core patents and revoking the prenuptial agreement was a tedious process.

I sat in the conference room for five hours straight, checking every single line of code and patent I had once handed over out of love.

When I signed the final revocation letter, a sharp pain shot through my chest. My vision went black, and I almost collapsed onto the desk.

Over the last three years, to keep up with Vance Enterprises' IPO timeline, I had worked day and night. My severe tachycardia was the direct result of that endless grind.

Terrified, the lawyer quickly called a ride and sent me straight to the high-end private hospital owned by Vance Enterprises.

The VIP cardiology suite on the top floor was a private sanctuary Ethan had publicly reserved for me during last year's annual gala.

Clutching my chest, I dragged my heavy legs out of the elevator.

But just as I reached the corner of the hallway, two hulking security guards in black suits stepped in front of me.

"Miss Brooks, we’re sorry. Mr. Vance ordered that no one is allowed to disturb them."

Leaning against the cold marble wall, I gasped for air. Through the half-drawn blinds of the ward, I saw everything.

Ethan was sitting by the bed, carefully peeling an apple with a silver knife.

Beside him, Bianca had a thin layer of gauze wrapped around her wrist. It wasn’t a suicide attempt at all; it was barely a scratch.

She leaned weakly against Ethan’s shoulder, tears shimmering in her eyes. "Ethan, I had a nightmare last night. I dreamed you left me. I was so scared..."

Ethan set the apple down, draped his designer suit jacket over her shoulders, and pulled her into his chest, resting his chin on her hair.

"Don't worry. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here."

His voice was so tender it could melt ice. That was a warmth he had never once shown me.

Suddenly, the door opened. Ethan walked out with an empty thermos, intending to get hot water.

He bumped straight into me.

Seeing my deathly pale face and bloodless lips, his brows knitted into a tight, irritated knot.

He didn't ask why I looked so ill. He didn't even notice my hand clutching my chest in pain.

"Stella, are you really trying to steal a hospital room from Bianca now?"

He lowered his voice, his tone dripping with disgust and accusation.

"Bianca has severe depression and can't handle any stress. You’re perfectly healthy—why do you have to fight a sick person for attention?"

"This jealous, clinging act of yours is getting ugly."

The pain in my chest made it hard to breathe, let alone argue.

I clenched my teeth, staring at the gradient-colored thermos in his hand.

It was a limited-edition piece I had waited in line for three hours to buy him last winter. It had been kept in this room for my use. Now, it belonged to Bianca.

Seeing my silence, Ethan assumed I was feeling guilty.

He signaled his assistant in the distance.

"Take Miss Brooks downstairs to the general ER to queue up. And grab a cashmere blanket from my car for her. Don't let her stand here making a scene."

The assistant returned quickly, holding a white Hermès cashmere blanket, and offered it to me.

"Put it on," Ethan said, looking at me with a condescending pity. "Once Bianca falls asleep, I’ll take you out for that sushi you love."

I looked down at the blanket.

The strong scent of tuberose perfume hit my nose. It was obvious who had been wrapped in this blanket in the backseat of his Maybach last night.

Ignoring the agony in my chest, I walked past Ethan step by step toward the medical waste bin at the end of the hall.

I let go.

The expensive cashmere blanket fell perfectly into the yellow bin labeled [Infectious Waste].

Ethan’s face darkened instantly, the veins on his temples throbbing with rage.

I turned around. I didn’t take the elevator. Holding onto the cold handrail, I walked down the stairs, step by step, leaving the top floor behind.

Behind me, Ethan's voice hissed with venom. "Stella Brooks! If you walk out of this hospital today, don't you dare crawl back begging for my help ever again!"

I didn't look back.