The Unbreakable Heiress Strikes Back

The freezing autumn rain poured throughout the night.

By morning, a faint glow began to spread along the horizon.

A pair of gleaming leather shoes came to a stop within Arabella's blurred line of sight.

"You've been on your knees all night," Greyson said. "Have you learned your lesson yet?"

His cold voice came from above. "Admit what you did wrong," he said commandingly. "Go to Corinne and beg her to forgive you. Only after that will I let this go."

Arabella slowly lifted her head.

The face that had once been radiant now looked pale and lifeless.

"I didn't push her." Her throat was dry, and her voice came out rough. "Greyson, Corinne jumped into the pool herself. She deliberately set me up."

"Enough!" Greyson's eyes flashed with fury.

He stepped forward and seized her chin, his fingers pressing painfully into her skin. "Corinne is still lying in the ICU," he growled, "and you have the nerve to accuse her of setting you up?"

His grip on her chin hurt terribly, yet Arabella remained completely still.

She looked into the face of the man she had loved for three years, and in that moment, the final trace of hope disappeared.

"You truly don't believe me," she whispered.

"Why should I believe someone as cruel and deceitful as you?" Greyson sniggered before roughly shoving her away.

Arabella fell backward into the muddy rainwater.

The cut across the back of her hand, caused by the shattered porcelain, had swollen into a pale, wrinkled wound after being exposed to the rain for hours. Whatever sharp pain it had caused earlier had long disappeared, replaced by a heavy, pulsing numbness.

Yet even that pain was insignificant beside the emptiness that had settled inside her chest.

Suddenly, Arabella laughed.

"All right..." she murmured. "You've already made up your mind that I'm guilty, so there's no point in explaining myself anymore."

She planted her hands against the ground and forced herself to her feet.

"Greyson," she said, "I want a divorce."

Greyson let out a scornful laugh. "A divorce? Arabella, what are you trying to pull this time? Are you trying to make me chase after you?"

"Believe whatever you want," she replied, her tone strangely calm. "I'll have the divorce papers delivered to you. From this moment on, I'm finished with you and with the entire Wright family."

She turned away after saying that. Without the slightest hesitation, she hauled her battered body toward the staircase and climbed one painful step after another.

As Greyson watched her stubborn figure disappear up the stairs, an unfamiliar sense of irritation stirred in his chest.

"Arabella!" he shouted after her. "The moment you walk through that door, don't even think about coming back to me!"

Arabella paused briefly. Still, she refused to turn around.

Once she reached the master bedroom, Arabella paid no attention to her drenched clothes and immediately began gathering her belongings.

There wasn't much to take—only a few changes of clothes, her passport and some other personal documents.

The expensive designer jewelry Greyson had given her remained exactly where it was.

At last, she removed the wedding ring from her left hand and carefully set it down on the nightstand. Then she walked out and closed the door behind her.

That simple click marked the end of three years of unquestioning devotion.

Arabella pulled her suitcase through the main gates of the Wright family estate.

Inside the mansion, the household staff watched her leave with detached, indifferent expressions. Not one of them made any effort to stop her.

The rain had finally subsided, but the wind remained bitterly cold.

Arabella made her way down the winding mountain road. The blood around her ankle had already dried and clotted, yet an alarming heat continued to burn across her forehead.

Her eyesight became increasingly hazy, the world around her swirling uncontrollably.

"So cold..." she whispered.

She clenched her teeth and held tightly onto the suitcase handle, forcing herself forward even though every step felt like she was walking over a bed of sharp blades.

Eventually, her strength gave out.

With a dull, heavy crash, Arabella fell onto the roadside, her suitcase tumbling down with her.

Just as the darkness closing in on her seemed ready to consume her completely, the piercing sound of screeching tires suddenly ripped through the silence.

A red sports car came to an abrupt stop beside her.

The door swung open, and a woman in an impeccable outfit and heels hurried out. "Arabella!"

Amanda Miller's eyes widened in shock when she saw Arabella lying helplessly in the mud, with blood covering her hands and feet.

"Arabella, wake up!" she shouted anxiously. "What the hell did those monsters in the Wright family do to you?"

She quickly gathered Arabella into her arms. The moment Amanda felt the frightening heat coming from her forehead, she panicked. "You're burning up! Don't be afraid. I'm taking you to the hospital right now!"

With considerable difficulty, Amanda helped Arabella into the passenger seat, and then sped toward Wreport General Hospital.

...

When Arabella finally opened her eyes, everything around her appeared blindingly white.

The strong scent of disinfectant immediately overwhelmed her senses.

It was late afternoon already. The fading sunlight wafted in through a narrow opening between the curtains, throwing a long shadow across the hospital room.

"Arabella!" Amanda cried out. "Thank goodness you're awake!"

Amanda had been sitting beside the bed watching over her friend for hours. Seeing Arabella stir, she immediately sprang to her feet, tears pouring down her cheeks. "Do you have any idea how close you came to dying? Your fever reached 104 degrees! Your knees and the wound on the back of your hand were so badly infected that they had already begun forming abscesses! That damn Greyson—I swear, I'm going to kill him!"

"Amanda..." Arabella's voice came out as little more than a dry, painful rasp. She reached out and caught her friend's sleeve. "Don't go."

"After everything he did to you," Amanda said, her voice filled with disbelief, "you're still trying to protect him?"

"I'm not... protecting him," Arabella replied.

A painful, bitter smile appeared on her lips. "I... I already asked him for a divorce."

Amanda went completely still for a moment. Then she tightened her fingers around Arabella's hand. "Good! It's about damn time you finally dumped that damn blind idiot!"

Silence settled over the hospital room.

Amanda left to call for the doctor.

Alone in the hospital bed, Arabella stared through the window as the sky outside gradually grew darker. Tears quietly slipped from the corners of her eyes and dampened the pillow.

She and Greyson had been married for three years, more than a thousand days and nights spent together.

All that time, Arabella had convinced herself that if she could be good enough and obedient enough, she might eventually soften his stone-cold heart.

But now, she finally grasped the truth.

If he didn't love her, then he simply didn't love her.

In Greyson's eyes, compared to Corinne, she was nothing more than a tiny speck of dust.

The hospital room gradually descended into complete darkness.

Arabella closed her eyes and allowed the grief and regret consume her.

She was prepared to consider her three years of life with him a painful loss and let go.

From this point forward, she and Greyson would go their separate ways.