After husband forced me to apologize to his mistress, he regretted it.

Patsy’s neck stiffened as she slowly reached out her hand toward Cornell.

But he let out a low, mocking laugh instead. “Go keep that beast entertained, and I promise you’ll get the bracelet right away. Or,” his voice dipped colder, “you can refuse, and I’ll give the bracelet to that beast as a toy instead.”

Patsy’s hand froze midair. A chill surged through her veins, cold sweat breaking out across her body.

Cornell’s eyes locked on her with unyielding intensity. There wasn’t the slightest hint of a joke in his expression.

Her lips trembled as she tightly closed her eyes, curling her fingers into her palm with helpless resignation. She knew there was no way out.

Terror consumed her, making her entire body tremble. But she still forced herself to speak, her voice faint yet stubborn.

“You said it yourself—when I’m done, you’ll give it back to me.”

With that, she stiffly strapped on the basic protective gear and stepped into the iron cage, tall enough to hold a man.

Seeing her move, Cornell’s body stilled for a second. His gaze grew darker, unfathomable.

The low, guttural breathing of the beast filled Patsy’s ears, primal and threatening. Instinctively, she shifted into a defensive stance.

One after another, people were shoved into nearby cages, their terrified screams echoing through the space like a storm.

Startled by the commotion, the Tibetan mastiff in front of her lunged with a ferocious snarl.

Relying on old instincts, she lifted her leg and kicked hard at its belly.

But her body—worn down from two years of relentless torment—couldn’t hold up. The kick barely bought her a second before the mastiff’s weight crashed down, turning the fight into a savage one-sided assault.

Pain ripped through her arm as its teeth sank in deep. Patsy collapsed onto the blood-stained floor of the cage, her scarlet eyes drifting toward Cornell’s silhouette in the distance.

The mastiff released her arm only to clamp down on her knee—the same knee that had been mauled once before.

She squeezed her eyes shut, all hope extinguished, and a single tear slid from the corner of her eye.

Blood seeped across the cage floor, and the scent drove the beast into a frenzy. It reared back to tear another chunk of flesh.

But suddenly, it toppled sideways with a thud, a gaping and bloodied hole in its skull.

The gunshot cracked like thunder, leaving Stevvi frozen in shock. It took her a full second to latch onto Cornell’s arm.

She opened her mouth to speak, but his icy glare cut her down before the words could form.

“If this was part of your plan,” he said, his tone like a blade, “then there’s no point in signing that contract.”

He flung the gun away with visible irritation.

“Boring,” he muttered. “I’m leaving.”

Before he walked out, Cornell stopped by Patsy’s cage. With a cold, almost mocking air, he tossed the bracelet onto the pool of blood in front of her.

“A bracelet means more to you than I ever did. Hah. You really are something, Patsy.”

His voice carried bitter self-mockery. Without another glance, he turned and strode away.

Patsy’s heart had long since turned to ash. She didn’t want to explain. Not anymore.

With trembling fingers, she picked up the blood-streaked bracelet and wrapped her wounds with practiced hands before dragging her battered and bloodied body home.

The train was leaving at dawn. She still needed to pack.

Through the night, she carefully sorted everything that belonged to her grandmother into a suitcase. Not a single item of her own went in.

At sunrise, she asked Theo to help her send out a parcel. And then, she finally opened the door.

The moment it swung wide, she saw Cornell leaning against his car.

His brows knitted tight the instant he saw her—pale, broken, barely standing.

“You’re about to die, and you don’t even think of seeing a doctor? You’re that desperate to get away from me?”

His tone dripped with cold sarcasm, but Patsy had no strength left to argue with him.

“There’s only this train,” she murmured weakly.

Cornell didn’t answer. He just yanked the car door open in a silent command to get in.

But she shook her head faintly.

“I already booked a ticket. I won’t trouble you.”

That quiet refusal lodged in his chest like a jagged stone. With a sharp slam, he shut the door. Unwilling to humiliate himself further, he stepped on the gas to leave.

But as he passed her, he slowed down and said in a cold, hard voice, “When you pick up Connee, take your time. When you come back, we’re going to have a proper talk.”

Her eyes burned instantly at those words. A second later, tears slipped free.

She had waited for those words for so long—only to hear them now on the day she was leaving. She no longer wanted it.

Still, she forced a faint smile and nodded. “Alright.”

Satisfied with her answer, Cornell didn’t linger. His car roared away down the road.

After he was gone, Patsy sent the prepared package to her closest friend.

When the train finally lurched forward, she pulled out the small urn from her bag and clutched it tight.

Staring out the window, she whispered a silent farewell.

‘Goodbye, Cornell. Goodbye, Patsy—the woman who once loved so fiercely.’