My Fiancé Planned 33 Accidents

Sylvia's head buzzed, and her thoughts went blank. She did not want to consider what going into a hotel room together implied.

Still, a thin sliver of hope clung to her. Maybe he was only taking Rachel back to her room.

Sylvia walked to the door. Through the thin wooden barrier, she heard labored breathing and muffled sounds near the entryway, followed by the unmistakable, intimate rush of running water.

That final shred of hope vanished.

Sylvia did not kick the door open. She was humiliated enough already, and she refused to drag herself into something even uglier. She covered her mouth, forced the sob back down, and stumbled out of the hotel.

That night, she sat on the sofa and stared out the window until dawn. Her mind replayed what must have happened in that room after she left. The pain cut so sharply that it felt unreal.

Victor did not come home until the next day. His clothes were badly wrinkled. Dark, unidentifiable stains marked the fabric. His entire body reeked of Rachel's perfume.

Sylvia's eyes were bloodshot from a sleepless night. She looked at him and said flatly, "You slept with Rachel."

Victor paused as he loosened his tie.

After a moment, he spoke. "I'm sorry. This was my fault. But yesterday she drank something she shouldn't have. The effects were strong. I was the only one who could help her—"

"But you still slept with her." Sylvia stood and walked toward him. Her voice shook as her control slipped. "Do you even remember that you have a fiancée?"

Victor had not slept all night. His head throbbed, and his patience had run out. "I already told you. I was just helping her. And it was only this once. Don't overthink it. I'll still marry you. The wedding is coming up soon. Stop making a scene."

With that, he turned and walked out, as though dealing with her distress was beneath him.

The front door slammed.

Sylvia collapsed onto the floor. Tears streamed down her face without restraint, and yet she laughed.

She thought herself ridiculous. She had always known that Victor felt only responsibility toward her. What, exactly, had she still been hoping for?

She did not know how long she sat there before she finally dragged herself to bed and sank into a heavy, lifeless sleep.

…

Sylvia was yanked awake without warning.

Victor grabbed her and hauled her straight to the car. No matter how fiercely she struggled, she could not break free. "Victor, what are you doing?!"

The car tore through the streets.

"What am I doing? I told you not to cause trouble. Why did you take those intimate photos in bed and threaten Rach with them?!" His voice was dark and stretched to its limit.

Sylvia was completely confused. "I didn't do that."

"If it wasn't you, who else could it be?" His teeth clenched with fury. "This afternoon, Rach handed in her resignation and went straight to the rooftop. If anything happens to her, I'll never forgive you."

They reached the hospital quickly, and he dragged her up to the rooftop.

Rachel sat at the edge. Onlookers had been blocked downstairs. On the rooftop, there were only the three of them.

Victor stared at Rachel, panic etched across his face. His voice softened without thought. "Rach, I brought her here. She'll promise not to send the photos. Come down, okay? It's dangerous up there."

He did not give Sylvia a chance to explain. In his mind, her guilt was already decided.

It felt as though countless needles pierced her heart.

Sylvia said coldly, "I told you it wasn't me."

Rachel stood. Her eyes held just the right measure of pain and fragility. "Dr. Rothwell, if those photos get out, my life will be over. If that happens, what's the point of living?"

Victor panicked. He grabbed Sylvia and edged forward, his voice trembling. "Rach, don't act on impulse. I won't let the photos spread…"

He kept soothing her, step by step, until only two steps separated them.

The instant Rachel lowered her guard, he released Sylvia and lunged forward, pulling Rachel back to safety.

Sylvia was shoved aside. She struck something hard, lost her footing, and fell straight off the fourth floor.

Time slowed.

The sight of Victor clutching Rachel burned into her vision. Weightlessness swallowed her. She stared up at the deep blue sky and closed her eyes in despair.

When the pain came, it was far worse than she had imagined. It was so overwhelming that she did not even have time to cry before everything went black.