Sipping Love, Savoring Joy

The year I loved him the most, my mother forced me to break up with him. Ethan Carter threw my mother into the Red-Light District.

The year I hated him the most, I crippled his father and forced him to sign a settlement.

That same year, a young woman showed up, heavily pregnant.

“Heaven has already punished him by making him marry someone he doesn’t love. What more do you want?”

I turned my head toward Ethan.

“Really?”

In his half-minute of silence, I already knew the answer.

I dropped the iron rod onto the ground.

“Choose—do you want her miscarriage or her death?”

Without hesitation, he looked at his bodyguard. “Get rid of her baby.”

I slapped him hard across the face.

“I want you to do it yourself!”

…

Ethan clenched his fists tightly, veins bulging at his temples.

“Anna Moore, that’s enough.”

“Killing has its limits. She’s still my woman and my flesh and blood!”

Grace Miller, who had been trembling moments ago, now leaned arrogantly against his chest.

Her hands were pale and flawless, unlike mine—covered in calluses from years of gripping knives and guns by Ethan’s side.

Clearly, he had kept her well-sheltered, so ignorant that she dared to provoke me.

“Sis, you hear that, don’t you? Ethan would never hurt me.”

“You’ve been married to him for five years and haven’t laid a single egg. How dare you touch me, the one who can carry on the Carter bloodline? We’re actually giving you a way out—”

Her words ended in a scream.

By the time Ethan snapped back, Grace was already on the floor, blood pooling beneath her, a dart lodged in her belly and another in her knees.

I leaned back in my chair, took a deep drag from my cigarette, and admired the sight.

“Seems Ethan never told you— I only know how to climb up, never down. I hate stepping off pedestals.”

“I dared to cripple his own father. What’s that bastard in your belly compared to that?”

The bodyguard checked briefly and told me Grace had miscarried.

“Oh, really? Then dig it out and let me admire what kind of bastard our dear Mr. Carter left behind.”

“Anna!”

The cold edge of a dagger pressed against my throat, Ethan’s eyes bloodshot with rage.

“Don’t unleash your madness on Grace! She’s not like us monsters. She’s already lost the baby. Do you really have to go this far?!”

The last time he had been this furious was when his mother, disgusted by his ruthless ways, forced me to break up with him. To keep me, he had thrown her into the Red-Light District, driving her insane.

The day I crippled his father, Ethan wasn’t angry—he was thrilled.

“Yes, Anna, that’s it. Be as crazy as me, as blood-soaked as me. Then no one can say we’re not a perfect match.”

And now, he’d fallen for some pure little angel?

My fingertip traced the edge of the blade as I laughed.

“I gave you the chance. You wouldn’t do it yourself. Since husband and wife are one, I’ll do it for you. Tsk. Now your little darling has no way out—except to crawl like a dog.”

“Judging from the look on your face, Mr. Carter, are you going to fight for your sweetheart? Don’t you dare back down.”

The sound of shattering glass filled the room.

Smiling, I locked eyes with Ethan and pressed a sharp shard against his elbow, slicing through skin.

The room reeked of blood.

His pained gasps, mixed with Grace’s screams, were music to my ears.

Several of his men raised their guns, all black barrels aimed at me.

I only shrugged, unfazed, as my hand inched closer toward his artery.