I don't believe there is no parting sorrow in the world
Chapter 1
Violet and Vincent’s daughter, Sophie, had been diagnosed with a severe heart condition. Only an organ transplant could save her.
Desperate, Vincent brought home his “godsister”—and her son.
“Violet,” he explained, “Nancy’s boy was born with a congenital heart defect. He doesn’t have long. She’s agreed to let Charles and Sophie… swap hearts.”
“Her only wish is for me to act as Charles’s father—to give him some happiness in his final days.”
For her daughter’s sake, Violet agreed to a pretend divorce.
Soon after, Vincent held a lavish wedding with his first love, Nancy, and they became the picture of a devoted couple.
Not long after that, Sophie and Charles were wheeled into the operating room together.
In the end, Sophie didn’t survive the rejection period. Charles, however, miraculously pulled through.
Violet had believed it was fate—that she couldn’t blame anyone.
Until an anonymous letter arrived, containing all of Sophie’s medical records.
Her daughter had never been sick at all!
The one who needed the transplant was Charles!
Violet’s world shattered.
In the end, the divorce was real.
It was his love that had been the sham.
She needed answers—now.
Clutching the medical report, Violet rushed straight to Vincent’s company.
On the way, she called her mother, Piper, and told her everything.
She expected shared grief and fury, but the other end of the line fell into an unusual silence.
“Mom?” Violet asked, confused. “Are you okay?”
Her mother’s voice came through, eerily calm: *“Violet, where are you right now?”*
Violet should have sensed something wrong, but her mind was chaos. She answered without thinking.
*“Don’t do anything rash. Wait right there.”*
Violet thought her mother was coming to confront Vincent with her. Trying to calm herself, she went to wait at the designated intersection, just as asked.
Her mother never came.
Instead, several burly men appeared. They grabbed her, dragged her, shoved her into a car.
They locked her in a dark, damp basement.
For seven whole days, they tormented her in every way imaginable.
The beatings, the denial of food and water—those were the gentler methods.
They deliberately deprived her of sleep.
Whenever she was on the verge of passing out from exhaustion, someone would bring an electric prod and shock her back to agonizing consciousness.
The pain was unbearable. If not for the hatred burning inside her, she would never have survived until the day she was rescued.
When Vincent finally broke down the door and swept her into his arms,
a pathetic flicker of gratitude stirred in Violet’s heart, softening it against her will.
She felt the warmth of his embrace, and a flood of memories washed over her.
They’d grown up together, from school uniforms to wedding gowns.
He knew her likes and dislikes, remembered her favorite foods, was familiar with every private detail.
For her, he’d lit up half the city with fireworks, planted an entire estate with tulips, slid a diamond engagement ring onto her finger under the Northern Lights…
She had never once imagined he could stop loving her.
Could it be… he had some unavoidable, desperate reason?
Violet wanted to give Vincent a chance to explain.
But her head was splitting with pain, and she was so weak she couldn’t even lift a finger.
Though Vincent called her name again and again, she couldn’t muster a response.
Then she heard his voice turn cold:
“She’s unconscious. Take her to the mental institution now. Get a psychiatric evaluation done in front of the press, then release a statement: kidnapped, suffered irreversible psychological trauma.”
In that instant, Violet’s heart nearly stopped.
The hand Vincent had placed on her arm suddenly felt like a block of ice.
His assistant’s voice chimed in: “Sir, today’s evaluation report is already arranged. But if the… if Mrs Vincent’s mental state is actually fine, and she goes for other tests later, won’t the truth come out?”
Vincent replied lightly, “Then continue the electroshock. Use some drug stimulation too. She was pampered since childhood; she couldn’t possibly have that strong a will.”
His fingers gradually tightened, pressing into Violet’s wounds:
“She’s always been willful, and she cared about Sophie more than anything. Now that she knows the truth about the heart swap, she’ll never let it go.”
“I’m doing this to protect Nancy and Charles.”
“As long as she’s declared mentally unstable, no one will believe anything she says. No matter what.”
“Go inform Violet’s mother as well. Tell her to focus on taking care of Violet these next few days and not contact Nancy’s side. If Violet finds out Nancy is her parents’ real biological daughter, I’m afraid she might take her own life.”
Every word from Vincent was a dagger, brutally hammered into Violet’s mind.
So that was it!
Not only had her lover abandoned her—her own flesh and blood had too!
The pain was so intense Violet felt she was going mad.
In comparison, the seven days of electroshock torture suddenly seemed insignificant.
Under this ultimate agony, she felt herself shattering. Her soul and consciousness were being dragged down into an abyss.
Just as the darkness was about to swallow her,
a tender, childish voice floated gently to her ear:
“Mommy.”
Violet jolted.
It was Sophie!
A small, soft hand hooked around her thumb:
“Mommy, don’t fall asleep.”
“You promised to take good care of Mimi for Sophie. You can’t break your promise.”
“Mommy, Sophie has to go now. You have to be okay.”
The soft little hand withdrew from her palm.
No!
Violet tried to grasp it, but with all her strength, she caught only empty air.
Leaving her soul to weep in a vast, desolate wilderness.
A long, long time later, the beam of a flashlight shone against Violet’s eyelids.
The sound of ambulance sirens filled her ears, mingled with the continuous click of camera shutters.
Violet returned from the vision to reality.
The scent of tobacco from Vincent’s suit jacket invaded her nostrils.
He was still holding her.
How dare he?!
It was at this exact moment that Violet finally made her decision.
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