Shattered Vows,The Billionaire's Fatal Betrayal

Blood—thick and black—surged up her throat and spilled from her lips.

She should have stayed on the mountain, training for a few more years before descending. But three years ago, Ian Delgado had taken her hand the very first time they met, his eyes brimming with sincerity as he poured out his heart to her.

She'd been a girl tasting love for the first time. Every word he said, she believed.

Back then, she'd read his pulse and seen the frailty eating away at his body. The worry consumed her. She knelt before Mentor Alaric for seven days and seven nights, begging for permission to leave the mountain.

It wasn't until she was at Ian's side that she truly understood how vicious the curse was. Her cultivation was still shallow. The only way she could sustain his health was to drain her own life essence—her vital blood. Every night, the agony tore through her organs, and she endured it until dawn.

She had told herself it was worth it. Every last drop, for the man she would spend her life with.

She never imagined that the love on his lips had been nothing more than a cheap trick to satisfy his curiosity and claim her body.

Clara wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth. She swallowed the dense, suffocating ache in her chest and left the hotel.

She thought it was finally over.

But the moment she stepped into her building, the sight stopped her cold. Red paint slashed across the hallway walls. FRAUD. CHARLATAN. WHORE.

And the small apartment she had so carefully arranged—the one filled with years of sacred texts and talismans painstakingly inscribed with her own blood—was engulfed in flames.

She ran toward the fire like a woman possessed, heedless of everything.

One step forward, and the flames lunged. They caught her without mercy.

The skin on half her body blistered and split, peeling back to expose raw, bleeding flesh beneath. Tears fell onto the exposed tissue, and the salt ignited a pain so sharp it nearly blinded her.

Ian appeared behind her at some point, his arm draped around Nadia's waist.

His gaze drifted to Clara's mangled arm. His eyes creased with a mocking smile.

"Well, well. I thought you were all-powerful. Turns out you feel pain like the rest of us."

"Ian Delgado, what gave you the right to burn my things?!" Her voice cracked. "These past three years—without those texts, you'd be dead!"

"Enough!"

He closed the distance in a single stride and locked his hand around her throat.

"Stop waving your filthy little trinkets around. They make me sick." His grip tightened. "I'm not just burning them. I'm going to make sure the entire world sees you for the fraud you are."

Before she could gather herself, dozens—no, hundreds—of reporters flooded the narrow hallway. Camera lenses and microphones thrust into her face.

"Miss Pruitt, you've swindled the Delgado family out of a fortune over the past three years. Do you feel any remorse at all?"

"You realize this constitutes criminal fraud, don't you?"

"She actually tried to trick Mr. Delgado into marrying her. Disgusting! Why are we even interviewing her? Hit her!"

A woman in the crowd seized Clara's ruined arm.

White-hot agony ripped through her entire body. Her back hit the wall, and her legs gave out. She crumpled to the floor.

Fists and feet rained down on her from every direction.

Through the chaos, she saw Ian tighten his arm around Nadia's slender waist, laughing as they walked away.

By that evening, Clara was trending nationwide.

[BREAKING: Delgado family's former fiancée exposed as con artist! Used superstitious rituals to defraud the Delgados of nearly a million dollars over three years! Shameful! Despicable!]

[Delgado family deceived for nearly a century — saved at last by Miss Henson, who debunked the so-called "curse" with real science! A reminder to trust evidence, not folklore!]

Clara stumbled away in the charred remains of her wedding dress. She wanted to buy something to change into—anything—but her bank accounts had been frozen.

The voice on the other end of the line was flat and mechanical.

"Ms. Pruitt, your accounts have been flagged for suspected fraud. We have no choice but to freeze them. We appreciate your understanding..."