Chapter 4

I was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance.

The four-month-old baby couldn't be saved. Coupled with the fall and the stress from my fight with Ethan, the hemorrhage came with no warning.

As I was wheeled into the emergency room on a gurney, I passed Ethan, who was carrying Chloe in his arms.

His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the messy scars on his forearms.

I felt a sudden pang of irony.

Years ago, during my postpartum depression, Ethan had cut himself dozens of times just to force me to stop hurting myself.

Back then, his love was even crazier than mine.

Later, when he cheated on me seven times, I self-harmed, lost my mind, and tried every trick in the book.

But he would always find a more ruthless way to hurt himself, forcing me to back down.

We were like two toxic, extreme gamblers, betting our own lives against each other. We were exactly the same.

But this time, why was it different?

Before I could figure it out, Ethan had already carried Chloe to the doctor.

"Doctor! Save her! Her stomach hurts, check her now!"

The doctor pushed him away anxiously.

"Move! It’s just stress! Can't you see Scarlett is in critical condition?!"

Ethan’s eyes followed the doctor's hand. The moment he recognized me, he froze.

The next second, he grabbed my wrist, his eyes burning with fury.

"Scarlett, is this your new trick?"

"First you leak Chloe’s photos to stress her out, forcing me to bring her to the nearest private clinic—which happens to be yours. And now you're faking a medical emergency to delay her treatment?"

He sneered. "A perfect trap. You really are something!"

I had already lost too much blood. His rough grip made my vision fade.

The doctor was horrified. "What do you mean faking?! She’s hemorrhaging because she was preg—"

His words were cut off by the heavy thud of Ethan’s knees hitting the floor.

"Is this enough? Can Chloe be treated now?"

I stared at him.

The man kneeling before me looked nothing like the proud Ethan who would rather die than bend his spine.

Seeing me silent, he knelt there, staring at me with eyes full of hatred.

"What about now?"

Looking into his eyes, I finally understood...

He was forcing me.

He was betting on my love for him, using himself as leverage to win the game, just like he did a thousand times before.

Only this time, it was for another woman.

My chest felt so tight I could barely breathe. I couldn't tell if it was the blood loss or the heartbreak.

"Fine... fine..." his voice shook.

Suddenly, he pulled a pocket knife from his pocket and plunged it straight into his own chest.

Blood bloomed across his shirt instantly. He groaned, his voice turning desperate and broken.

"Scarlett, I yield. Do whatever you want to me, take my life..."

All the warmth left my body. I closed my eyes.

"Ethan, what if I’m not faking? What if I’m actually dying today?"

He didn't hesitate. "I'll die with you."

I knew he meant it.

But that was why I felt so utterly defeated.

I forced a weak smile and looked at the doctor. "Save her first."

I was the majority shareholder of this private clinic.

If Ethan hadn't been completely panicked, he would never have risked bringing Chloe here.

Hearing this, Ethan let out a sigh of relief.

His tears hit the floor. As he stood up, his voice was raspy. "Thank you."

Such a foreign word. Just like the stranger he had become.

Before I blacked out...

I saw Chloe peeking over his shoulder. She looked at me and smirked.

It was the smug, triumphant smile of a winner.