Stepping into Hardship in Lavish Attire

With that thought in mind, I left a comment under Lily’s latest video:

Zara Clare: [I wish you a hundred years of happiness and an early birth]

Not long after the message was sent, the video was deleted.

Shortly after, my phone rang. It was Jonathan. I ignored it. Then, with the same cold indifference he had always shown me, I blocked his number.

I suddenly remembered—today was the day of my mom’s cremation. I explained the situation to the hospital and signed my discharge papers ahead of schedule. The doctor was clearly uneasy about my condition and took the initiative to accompany me there.

When the staff handed me my mom’s urn, I did not collapse into tears as I had expected. Instead, I felt something deep inside me finally snap—the last shackle binding me to this wretched life.

I took a deep breath and whispered a quiet goodbye to the doctor before heading back to the Richards Family home to pack my things.

As soon as I stepped into the living room, I saw two people. Jonathan and Lily were sprawled on the sofa together.

At the sight of me, Lily hastily pulled up the zipper of her dress. But no amount of covering up could hide the red marks on her skin, evidence of their heated passion.

I felt nothing. No anger. No heartbreak. I simply turned away and walked to the bedroom as if I didn’t see anything, as if they were nothing more than ghosts in the room.

By the time I finished packing, Lily was gone. Jonathan was left sitting there, drinking alone.

As I stepped out with my suitcase, he finally looked up. The dim lighting cast shadows across his face, making it impossible to read his expression.

“Zara, where were you today?” he asked.

“None of your business.”

I was unwilling to say more, but Jonathan suddenly dropped his wine glass.

He walked to me in large strides.

“Don’t act so pure and untouchable,” he sneered, storming toward me. “Do you think I don’t know? You were out whoring around, weren’t you?”

I stiffened. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Zara, are you so pressed for loneliness? You think that I have been neglecting you, so you ran into someone else’s arms, is that it?” His voice was low, menacing. “Fine. For your loneliness, I will fulfill you.”

Saying that, Jonathan roughly ripped off my clothes and pulled my hand towards the bed.

Panic surged through me. Struggling violently, I said, “Jonathan, are you insane?! I just gave birth!”

But he wasn’t listening. Like a wild animal, he bit down on my shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against my skin.

Rage and disgust flooded through me. With all the strength I had left, I shoved him away and slapped him across the face.

The room went still for a fraction of a second.

Then, his eyes darkened.

The enraged Jonathan also rushed not to show weakness and without hesitation, he grabbed the glass bottle from the table and hurled it at me.

BANG!!!

Pain exploded across my forehead as warm blood trickled down my face.

Jonathan froze for a split second and subconsciously came over to assist me.

“Why don't you know how to dodge—?” he muttered under his breath.

I stumbled back a few steps, trying to find my footing, trying to form words—but my body gave out first. The world blurred, then faded into black.