Chasing a Love That Breaks Me

Helena staggered, clutching her chest as sharp pain pierced through her. She gripped her clothes tightly, gasping for breath.

However, Rafael acted as if he hadn’t seen a thing. He took the signed divorce papers without a second glance and walked away.

“Don’t put on an act in front of me. I don’t love you, and I never will. Whether you live or die means nothing to me.”

The moment the two of them left, Helena couldn’t hold back anymore—she coughed up a mouthful of blood, her entire body trembling.

On the day of the wedding photoshoot, she stood by with a weary frame, watching the couple pose for intimate shots.

“President Suarez and Miss Perkins are truly in love,” a staff member gushed. “I heard this wedding dress was custom-made overseas, took months to complete, and was entirely hand-stitched.”

“They’re perfect together,” another chimed in. “And Miss Perkins even saved President Suarez’s life before—it’s fate, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely! When she went abroad, he waited for her to come back before getting married. If only I could find a man like that.”

Hearing their chatter, Helena’s eyelashes quivered, and her already pale face turned even whiter.

When they were together, he once told her that if you love someone, you should declare it to the world. He indeed kept his promise—but not for her.

During a break, Kaylee beckoned Helena over and handed her her wedding dress.

“Bring this to the dressing room.”

Helena quietly complied.

“I’m thirsty. Get me some water,” Kaylee added.

Wordlessly, Helena handed her a glass, but the moment Kaylee took it, she deliberately let it slip from her fingers, sending it shattering onto the floor.

The sudden commotion caught everyone’s attention. Kaylee’s eyes turned red, her expression pitiful.

“Sis... do you really hate me that much?”

Then, as if embarrassed, she lowered her gaze and murmured softly, “I’m sorry... Could you all give us a moment?”

The staff, sensing tension, nodded in understanding and quickly found excuses to leave.

Once the room was empty, Kaylee straightened, raising her left hand to flaunt the engagement ring on her finger. A sweet smile played on her lips.

“Do you know what kind of ring this is?” she mused. “It’s from Darry Ring—a brand where a man can only ever gift one ring in his lifetime. And guess what? He never gave you one, did he?”

Helena’s breath hitched. For a fleeting moment, a memory overlapped with Kaylee’s words.

"I heard Darry rings can only be gifted once in a lifetime. Helena, wouldn’t it be perfect for our engagement."

Back then, she had asked curiously, "Why for the engagement?"

Rafael had playfully tapped her nose. "Silly girl, because for our wedding, I’ll give you the very best—gold, diamonds, everything. Whatever others have, my Helena will have too."

But now, that promise belonged to someone else. His love belonged to someone else.

Seeing the pain flicker across Helena’s face, Kaylee’s smirk deepened.

“You rushed into marriage with him, didn’t even have a wedding, not even a ring. How shameless of you, clinging to his family like that.”

“But I’m different,” she continued, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “I have everything. And even the things others don’t, he gives me. He loves me now.”

As she spoke, she suddenly stepped closer, pressing a drugged cloth against Helena’s nose and mouth.

“You’re divorced, yet you still linger in that house, getting in my way. How could I not hate you?” she hissed. “Helena, just die already!”

Helena struggled desperately, falling to the ground in a haze of dizziness.

“What... what did you do to me?” she gasped.

Kaylee looked down at her as if she were nothing more than trash.

“I’m just giving you a little test—to see if your life is worth as much as mine in his eyes.”

The last thing Helena saw before darkness consumed her was Kaylee’s triumphant smile.

“Just die. Quietly. Alone. Never appear before us again.”

When Helena woke up, she found herself tied to a pillar, her body weak and drained of strength.

A man dressed in black stood with his back to her, sharpening a knife while speaking on the phone.

The moment the call connected, he lifted the blade with a satisfied grin and turned toward her, as if her awakening was of no surprise.

“Rafael Suarez,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement, “your wife is in my hands. If you want her alive, wire five hundred thousand immediately.”

On the other end, Rafael had just finished a set of wedding photos with Kaylee when he heard the demand.

He scoffed, his tone laced with mockery. “I don’t know who you think you have, but my wife is right here with me. You’ve kidnapped the wrong person.”