He Chose The Mistress, She Signed Her Own Death Certificate

Inside a private lounge at the Jackson Group, Kaylee scrolled through her phone with predatory glee, a smug smile widening as she read the wave of mean comments directed at Olivia.

However, buried deep within the torrent of hate, a few discordant voices of suspicion regarding Kaylee's own story began to surface.

"Kaylee looks far too healthy to be terminally ill."

"I've spent twenty years in medicine, and I can tell you for a fact she doesn't exhibit a single symptom of a dying patient!"

Kaylee's heart momentarily stalled, but she breathed a sigh of relief as the doubts were swiftly buried by a fresh surge of insults aimed at Olivia.

She hurled her phone aside and delivered a stinging slap to her assistant's face. "You useless idiot! Go to a hospice and study the dying. If your 'sickly' makeup fails again, I will stop paying for your mother's hospital care."

The assistant's cheek bloomed into a painful red welt, yet she remained silent, keeping her gaze fixed on the floor in submission.

To the assistant, Kaylee was a clinical sociopath, a terrifying departure from the fragile, angelic persona she wore for the cameras.

The tension was broken by a sudden, firm knock echoing through the room.

Kaylee shot her assistant a murderous glare, silently commanding her to answer the door.

The moment Callum stepped inside, Kaylee's features melted into a mask of softness. Her eyes welled with practiced adoration as she offered a fragile smile.

"Callum," she breathed.

Callum's resolve crumbled at her sight. "The temperature is dropping. You need to be more careful and dress in layers."

Kaylee seized the moment, tucking herself into his embrace and locking her arms tightly around his waist.

A glint of smug satisfaction flashed in her eyes. In her mind, it was only a matter of time before everyone recognized that she and Callum were the real love story—and that Olivia, with all her plotting, was nothing more than a conniving, home-wrecking opportunist who had it coming.

She was hell-bent on stripping Olivia of every last scrap of her dignity and life.

Her ultimate trump card was the anonymous drug formula she had mysteriously acquired weeks ago.

She was the sole keeper of the secret. After finding no trace of the sender, she assumed the original creator had died during the drug's dangerous development.

In her mind, it was the perfect crime; the brilliant fruits of that research now belonged entirely to her.

...

Meanwhile, after twenty-four hours of observation, Olivia was finally cleared for discharge following Michael's medical approval.

Upon leaving the hospital, she proceeded directly to the research institute.

Peter's efficiency had been remarkable; the Beacon Project had officially re-launched, and a significant portion of the original research team had been successfully reconvened.

As the archival seals were broken and the research logs were unsealed, Olivia encountered a video of her parents weeping with joy following a major breakthrough. Overwhelmed by the footage, she found herself unable to contain her grief, and tears began to fall.

Peter's own expression softened with emotion as he offered a comforting pat on her shoulder. "Olivia, perhaps you should delay your start. You're still young, and there is no need to rush into this."

"No, I am ready," Olivia insisted, her voice wavering but her pale features set with a newfound, iron-clad resolve.

Fueled by her unwavering determination, the final preparations for the project's commencement proceeded without delay.

Over the following days, she remained entirely sequestered within the laboratory.

Michael, concerned by her relentless work ethic, eventually insisted that she at least take a break for a proper meal.

He secured a reservation at a local restaurant, and Olivia, unable to find a reason to decline his kindness, accepted the invitation.

As Michael was delayed, the waiter escorted Olivia to their reserved table ahead of his arrival.

Almost immediately after sitting down, she recognized a familiar voice emanating from the adjacent booth. Olivia stiffened, her gaze drawn instinctively toward the sound.

Through the partially translucent pattern of a decorative screen, she observed Callum and Kaylee seated closely together.

Callum, who typically maintained a distant and noble air, was behaving with uncharacteristic tenderness. His tailored suit jacket was draped over Kaylee's shoulders, and with his sleeves rolled back, he was carefully peeling shrimp for her with practiced ease.

For a man of his background, who had never concerned himself with domestic tasks, such a gesture was a visceral confirmation of his deep affection for Kaylee.

Olivia felt a sharp, agonizing sensation in her chest, as if she were suffering a physical wound.

Amidst her shock, her gaze eventually locked with Kaylee's.

Kaylee hesitated for a split second before a look of unmistakable triumph flickered across her features.

With a coy, flirtatious gesture, she turned toward Callum, opening her mouth to allow him to feed her.

The scene served as a bitter reminder for Olivia of the brief, joyous period immediately following her own marriage to Callum.

She recalled a time she had pleaded with Callum to join her at a seaside restaurant for dinner and the view; she had waited alone for over two hours before he finally decided to appear after his shift.

Despite the wait, she had been overcome with joy. With the timid enthusiasm of a newlywed, she had prepared a piece of lobster to feed him, only to be met with a gaze that remained detached and frigid.

"Stop behaving so childishly, Olivia," he had remarked coldly, refusing the gesture.

Now, as if needing visual confirmation of her own displacement, she watched him in a daze.

Callum hesitated for only a fraction of a second before personally offering the shrimp to Kaylee.

The intimacy of the gesture felt like a physical blow to Olivia's pride.

Her eyes clouded with bitterness, and a self-deprecating smirk touched her lips.

At that moment, Callum took note of Kaylee's distracted gaze and turned to see what had caught her attention.

Upon recognizing Olivia's silhouette, his brow furrowed in immediate irritation.

Given that she seldom ventured out, he had not anticipated encountering her at such a late hour.

The immediate suspicion that she had been tracking his movements crossed his mind.