On the fifth anniversary of their relationship, the day Kaylee Maloney brought Jerome Felker home to meet her parents, he gave her two "gifts."

The first, he tied her father, Cedric Maloney, to a chair and, right in front of him, ripped the clothes off Kaylee's body.

The second, he deliberately opened the front door, letting her mother, Livia Maloney—who suffered from Alzheimer's—run out into the pouring rain.

Livia dashed into the street, and as a freight truck sent her flying, Cedric could do nothing but watch, bound to his chair, helpless as his daughter was violated.

Cedric broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. In a frenzy, he snapped the ropes, then leapt from the 23rd floor. His blood splattered into the sizzling oil of the breakfast cart below.

In one night, Kaylee lost both her parents.

Kneeling in the spreading pool of blood, she asked Jerome, "Why?"

He gripped her chin, sneering coldly. "Kaylee, did you really think I loved you? I came for revenge."

Ten years ago, Jerome's father died on Cedric's operating table in a medical accident. His mother took her own life in grief.

So Jerome spent five long years weaving a flawless illusion of love—only to make Kaylee taste what it meant to lose everything.

Afterward, he kept her imprisoned, tormenting her. She tried to kill herself 99 times; he saved her 99 times.

He said the two of them would torture each other for the rest of their lives.

But he never knew—during the year when love was at its peak, when he desperately needed a heart transplant, she secretly signed the donor agreement.

Now, inside her chest beats an artificial heart.

And she had only seven days left before it failed.

***

Kaylee clutched the diagnosis at the door of the villa. The words "artificial heart failure" stabbed at her eyes.

The doctor's warning echoed in her ears. "Seven days at most. Prepare yourself."

She drew a long breath and pushed open the door. The laughter inside fell silent.

Jerome lounged on the leather sofa, swirling a glass of red wine with elegant fingers, surrounded by four or five young women—her two cousin sisters, her best friend, and her colleague.

All dressed in seductive sleepwear, their faces eager with flattery.

"You're back?" Jerome looked up, his thin lips curving in a cruel smile. "Perfect timing—the game's just begun."

Kaylee's nails dug deep into her palm.

Over the past months, Jerome had seduced every woman close to her, slept with all of them, just to watch Kaylee fall apart.

Now, they were hopelessly in love with him.

"One minute." Jerome set down his glass, voice cold as quenched steel. "Whoever makes her cry first becomes my exclusive bed partner."

The women's eyes lit up. They rushed toward Kaylee.

Her cousin Rita Bickham reached her first and slapped her hard across the face.

A crisp crack. Kaylee's head snapped to the side.

Through the searing pain, she suddenly remembered last year's birthday—Rita holding the homemade cake, eyes sparkling, wishing her, "Kay, may you always be happy."

The second slap landed, blood seeping from Kaylee's mouth, dripping onto the bracelet she'd given Rita.

She'd saved for three months to buy it as a graduation gift.

"Fifteen slaps and she still isn't crying?" Rita panted, glancing back.

Jerome narrowed his eyes, watching the spectacle. "Next."

Before the words faded, her other cousin, Nylah Maloney, grabbed Kaylee's hair and dragged her into the kitchen.

Kaylee's scalp burned, but in that moment, she remembered college—when Nylah was bullied, she'd taken the high-speed train overnight to defend her.

Now, the cousin she'd once protected was shoving her face into a pot of boiling chili water.

"Ah—!"

The scalding liquid seared her eyes. Kaylee convulsed in agony, clutching the table edge so hard her nails split and bled.

"Boring." Jerome glanced at his watch. "Next."

Kaylee's best friend, Delaney Lavelle, took out sewing needles—piercing them one by one into Kaylee's fingertips.

The pain shot straight to her heart, blinding her. In her haze, she saw sophomore year—Delaney, heartbroken and drinking until her stomach bled, with Kaylee at her bedside for three days straight.

"Time's up." Jerome's voice was as cold as a knife. "Last chance."

The final girl ran downstairs, clutching a cardboard box. Kaylee's heart nearly stopped.

It was the box she'd hidden under her bed—her parents' keepsakes.

"No!" she finally screamed.

But it was too late.

The girl laughed, smashing the picture frame on the floor, glass shards scattering.

Cedric's watch was trampled to pieces, and Livia's comb snapped in two.

When the silk scarf Livia loved most was torn apart, Kaylee's tears finally fell to the floor.

"I win!" The girl ran to Jerome, ecstatic. "Jerry, now you can only have me."

Jerome laughed, gripping her chin viciously. "How naïve. Anyone connected to Kaylee disgusts me. Why would I want any of you?"

He pressed the call button without mercy. "Throw them all out."

The bodyguards dragged the screaming women away. Kaylee stayed, kneeling in the wreckage, trembling as her fingers brushed the shattered remains of Cedric and Livia's belongings. She picked up half of a faded family photo, Livia's warm smile still lingering.

"Jerome," she sobbed, clutching the relics, her voice raw and broken, "someone like you, who can't love anyone—should never have messed with other people's lives!"

"Who says I can't love?"

Jerome sneered. The door swung open.

A girl in a white dress walked in, dragging a suitcase. "Jerry, I brought my things. Which room am I staying in?"

Jerome's expression softened instantly. He pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. "With me, of course."

He wrapped his arm around her slender waist, then turned to Kaylee, his gaze icy again. "Let me introduce Emmaline Tanori, my fiancée.

"Remember the car accident three years ago? I was on the brink of death. Emma saved me—gave me her heart so I could keep taking revenge on the Maloney family.

"You said I couldn't love?" Jerome held Emmaline tighter, his eyes locked on Kaylee. "Watch closely. I'll show you exactly how I love someone."

Kaylee's entire body trembled.

Shock, fury, pain, despair—emotions surged like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her.

She bit her lip until she tasted blood, then snapped awake.

And then—she laughed.

She laughed until her whole body shook, until she coughed up blood, until her tears splattered the floor.

How ironic.

She'd given him her heart, but he cherished another's as a treasure.

The doctor had promised, again and again, to keep the donor's identity secret.

Who could have guessed it would lead him to mistake someone else for her?

But she wouldn't explain.

What was there to explain? Was that the heart beating in his chest that was hers? That she only had seven days left because of him?

Two lives from the Maloney family, two from the Felker family—the blood feud between them had long since severed every possibility of a future together.

That night, Jerome knocked on Kaylee's bedroom door.

"Emma wants chicken soup. Go make some."

Kaylee lowered her eyes and silently headed to the kitchen.

Resistance was pointless. She had long since learned to obey.

In the kitchen, she moved like a machine, prepping ingredients with numb fingers under cold water until they turned pale and stiff.

She suddenly remembered how Jerome used to love her homemade soup. Back then, he'd always wrap his arms around her waist from behind and say, "My wife's cooking is the best."

The water in the pot bubbled and steamed, clouding her vision.

Kaylee wiped at the corners of her eyes, unsure if it was steam or tears.

Three hours later, she stood at the primary bedroom door, cradling the finished chicken soup, and knocked softly.

"Come in," Jerome's voice called from inside.

Kaylee pushed open the door. Emmaline was lounging against the headboard, while Jerome sat at the edge of the bed, peeling an apple for her.

He peeled apples in a single long ribbon—a skill he'd once learned just for Kaylee.

"The soup's ready," Kaylee said, placing the bowl on the nightstand.

Emmaline lazily picked up the spoon, tasted it, and immediately wrinkled her nose. "It's way too salty! Are you trying to kill me?"

Kaylee pressed her lips together. "I'll make it again."

When she brought the second bowl, Emmaline barely took a sip before pushing it away. "It's like water. Make it again!"

On the third try, Emmaline touched the bowl and shrieked, "How am I supposed to drink this? It's scalding hot!"

She jerked her hand, sending the entire bowl of steaming soup splashing onto Kaylee.

"Ah!" Kaylee cried out as a red welt spread across her chest.

"Jerry!" Emmaline clutched her slightly reddened fingers, tears brimming in her eyes. "It hurts..."

Jerome's face darkened. He kicked Kaylee hard. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Kaylee staggered back, slamming into the wall, her vision swimming with pain. "It wasn't me—she knocked it over herself—"

"Shut up!" Jerome snapped, his eyes cold and menacing. "Still trying to argue?"

He pressed the call button. Two bodyguards appeared at the door instantly.

"Lock her in the walk-in freezer for 24 hours," Jerome ordered icily. "Watch her closely. Don't let her try anything."

As Kaylee was dragged away, the last thing she saw was Jerome gently cradling Emmaline's hand, blowing softly on her fingers.

The freezer door slammed shut, and the biting cold invaded her body at once.

Kaylee curled up in the corner, her teeth chattering uncontrollably.

The chill seeped into her limbs, and her thoughts began to blur.

In her haze, she was transported back three years—

She'd been hospitalized with acute appendicitis, and Jerome had abandoned an international conference to fly back overnight.

The doctor said she needed rest, and Jerome had kept vigil outside her room for three consecutive days. Even the nurses said they'd never seen a boyfriend so anxious.

"Kay... Kaylee!"

Somewhere in the fog, she thought she heard Jerome's voice, frantic in a way she'd never heard before.

A hallucination, surely.

The man he was now would never worry about her like that.

When she woke again, the sharp smell of disinfectant told her she was in a hospital.

She heard the doctor's stern voice nearby. "Mr. Felker, Ms. Maloney's condition is extremely serious, especially since she previously—"

"Doctor." Kaylee cut him off, her voice hoarse. "I know my own body."

The room fell silent. Jerome stood by the window, his face unreadable in the backlight.

"As long as she doesn't die, that's all I care about," he said flatly. "Don't bother telling me the rest. I'm not interested."

No sooner had he finished speaking than his phone rang.

Kaylee watched his expression soften instantly. "Emma... It's okay, I'm paying the bill. I'll be right there."

He hung up and left the room without a backward glance.

Kaylee struggled to pick up her phone and opened Instagram.

Emmaline had just posted an update—a photo of Jerome sitting at her bedside.

"Just a little burn, and someone's so worried he won't leave me alone all night. If it weren't for paying the bill, he'd never have left."

Kaylee stared at Jerome's gentle gaze in the photo and understood everything.

She'd only been brought to the hospital as an afterthought.

Her hand drifted to her chest, where the artificial heart throbbed faintly.

Six days. Her life's countdown had entered its final six days.

On the fifth day of her countdown, Kaylee was discharged from the hospital.

She dragged her frail body through the front doors, only to run straight into the last person she wanted to see.

Jerome stood beside his familiar black Maybach, arm wrapped around Emmaline, his gaze colder than a stranger's.

"Get in," he said, lips barely moving, voice icy. "We're going to see my parents."

Kaylee's fingers tightened around her sleeve until her knuckles turned white.

She knew exactly what was waiting for her.

The car sped toward a cemetery on the outskirts of town.

All the way there, Emmaline nestled in Jerome's arms, giggling as she fed him fruit.

Kaylee sat silently in the passenger seat, watching their closeness reflected in the rearview mirror, each glance sending a fresh wave of pain through her chest.

At the cemetery gates, Jerome stepped out first.

Kaylee started to follow, but the sight before her stopped her cold.

From the entrance deep into the cemetery, the entire road was lined with burning hot charcoal, glowing a menacing red beneath the midday sun.

Jerome pulled Emmaline close, his voice glacial. "Kaylee, your whole family is sinners. Your parents are dead, so you'll atone for them."

He pointed to the fiery path. "Get on your knees. Bow, again and again, until you reach my parents' headstone. Beg for forgiveness."

Kaylee's legs shook. She knew what would happen if she refused.

The moment her knees touched the burning coals, the smell of scorched flesh filled the air. The agony made her vision swim, but she clenched her teeth and forced herself forward.

Behind her, the car engine rumbled.

Jerome's Maybach crawled along at a torturous pace, windows down. She saw him and Emmaline, fingers entwined, saw him kiss her fingertips.

Each bow was like branding her body on a red-hot iron.

Her knees were raw and bloody, her palms scorched black.

Sweat and blood dripped onto the coals, hissing as they hit.

By the time she crawled to the headstone, Kaylee was barely conscious.

Through blurred vision, she saw Jerome and Emmaline standing before the grave.

"Mom, Dad, I've found the love of my life," Jerome said, his voice impossibly gentle. "I brought her here to meet you. The one who killed you—I've had my revenge."

Emmaline offered a bouquet with a sweet smile. "Mr. and Mrs. Felker, don't worry. I'll take good care of Jerry."

"Kneel," Jerome ordered, turning to Kaylee, his eyes once more cold as ice.

Kaylee struggled to bow, her forehead striking the ground before the headstone.

"Get out," Jerome spat, then walked away with Emmaline.

On the way back, torrential rain began to fall. Kaylee dragged her battered body, inch by inch, toward the villa.

Each step sent fresh pain through her knees as the rain washed over her wounds.

By the time she finally crawled through the door, night had fallen.

Jerome was sitting in the living room, reading documents. At her arrival, he looked up. For a split second, something flickered in his eyes, but it vanished, replaced by indifference.

"Tomorrow's Emma's birthday," he said, closing his file, tone flat. "I want a grand party. You'll handle the arrangements."

Kaylee froze.

"Just like you always said—your dream wedding," he added, a cruel smile tugging at his lips.

A sharp pain stabbed through Kaylee's heart.

She'd told him about her dream wedding so many times—

A tower of champagne, white roses covering the hall, a live band playing her favorite songs...

Now, the wedding she'd longed for was nothing more than Emmaline's birthday party.

"Don't waste time." Jerome tossed her a tube of ointment. "There can't be any mistakes tomorrow."

He turned and left without another word.

The ointment landed on the floor. Kaylee picked it up and threw it in the trash.

Dragging her wounded body, she began decorating the ballroom, working through the night without rest.

Outside, the rain kept pouring, just like her endless tears.

The lights at the birthday party were dazzling, almost blinding.

Kaylee leaned against a column in the corner, listening to the guests gossip.

"Mr. Felker absolutely spoils Ms. Tanori. Just look at this birthday party—it has cost over millions of dollars."

"Of course. I heard Ms. Tanori once saved Mr. Felker's life."

"Compared to that, Kaylee from before, this is real love, isn't it?"

Every word reached Kaylee's ears with painful clarity.

Expressionless, she took a sip of water. Her artificial heart hummed faintly in her chest.

When it was time for the gift-giving, Emmaline was the center of attention, surrounded by admirers. Jerome's gifts outshone everyone else's—limited edition Hermès, custom jewelry, a deed to a private island...

"Thank you all for your wonderful gifts," Emmaline said sweetly, then let her gaze settle on Kaylee in the corner. "But it looks like someone hasn't given me a present yet."

All eyes turned to Kaylee. She gripped her water glass so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"Oh well, I won't make it hard for you," Emmaline said, feigning generosity, but her eyes locked onto Kaylee's neck. "But that emerald necklace you're wearing is gorgeous. Why not give it to me as a birthday gift?"

Kaylee instinctively touched the necklace.

Years ago, Jerome had given it to her, claiming it was a Felker family heirloom, reserved only for the future daughter-in-law.

He'd knelt on one knee that day and promised to love her forever.

Looking back, it was all just a carefully crafted lie.

"Alright." Kaylee calmly unclasped the necklace and handed it to Emmaline.

Jerome's face darkened instantly.

"Is it true that whatever Emma wants, you'll give it to her?" His voice was cold as ice.

Kaylee looked down at the necklace in her hand and suddenly laughed.

Of course—she was dying soon. What could she possibly refuse?

"Yes," she replied, meeting Jerome's gaze. "Whatever Ms. Tanori wants, she can have."

A flicker of inexplicable anger flashed in Jerome's eyes.

"Fine," he sneered. "Since Emma got me a new heart, an artificial one, and your blood type matches ours, why not donate your heart to Emma?"

Kaylee froze.

Her heart? She didn't even have one anymore.

"No—no!" Emmaline suddenly panicked, clutching Jerome's arm. "I don't want her heart! Artificial hearts have to be replaced regularly anyway. She... she's got a grudge against your family. Even her heart is tainted. I don't want any part of it..."

Jerome's expression softened, and he gently stroked Emmaline's hair. "You're right. Her heart is too dirty for you."

When it was time to cut the cake, Emmaline closed her eyes to make a wish, and the crowd started cheering.

"Kiss her! Kiss her!"

Amid the laughter and applause, Jerome bent down and kissed Emmaline.

It was a deep, lingering kiss—Emmaline's arms wrapped around his neck, her whole body pressed to his.

Kaylee turned to leave, but her body was too weak, and she stumbled.

She steadied herself against the wall and slowly made her way outside, the crowd's cheers still echoing in her ears.

Once outside, the night air was cool. Kaylee wandered unconsciously to the lakeshore.

The moonlight shimmered on the water, making it look almost magical.

She stood at the edge, when suddenly she felt a shove from behind—

Splash!

Icy water engulfed her instantly.

Kaylee didn't struggle. She let herself sink deeper and deeper.

Water filled her mouth and nose. The suffocating sensation was strangely liberating.

Jerome and Emmaline were still lost in their kiss until a scream rang out from outside the ballroom.

"Someone's dead! Someone jumped into the lake!"

Jerome abruptly shoved Emmaline out of his arms, frantically scanning the crowd for that familiar figure.

Nothing. She was nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, it felt as if an invisible hand had clenched his heart, squeezing so tight that he forgot to breathe.

"Where's Kaylee?" He grabbed a waiter by the collar, his voice hoarse and terrifying.

The waiter trembled, pointing toward the lake. "I... I think I just saw Ms. Maloney heading that way..."

Like a madman, Jerome tore off toward the lakeshore, not even bothering to remove his suit jacket before plunging into the icy water.

It was dark beneath the surface, but he forced his eyes open wide, searching desperately. Finally, at the bottom of the lake, he saw her.

Kaylee drifted downward like a fallen leaf, her long hair fanning out in the water, her face so pale it was almost translucent.

She saw him.

Through the water, their eyes met for a fleeting moment.

There was no fear in Kaylee's gaze, no resentment—just a calmness that looked almost like relief.

Jerome's heart sank.

She didn't want to live anymore.

Just as he was about to reach her, a piercing scream shattered the night from the shore. Emmaline's voice, raw with terror, "Jerry! Help me! I can't swim..."

Jerome froze.

He glanced back at Emmaline, who had somehow ended up in the water, then looked at Kaylee, her eyes already closed.

After a single moment's hesitation, he turned and swam toward Emmaline.

Kaylee's consciousness began to fade.

She didn't feel pain—just cold.

"Maybe this is better," she thought.

With only four days left, what did it matter if she died sooner or later?

But fate seemed determined to toy with her.

When she opened her eyes again, Jerome's stormy face was the first thing she saw.

He lifted his hand and gripped her throat, his voice glacial. "Kaylee! Did you try to kill yourself at the party just to ruin Emma's birthday and get my attention, or do you really want to die?"

Kaylee forced a bitter smile. "I wish for death every single moment... Isn't that something you already know?"

Jerome's grip tightened, his jaw clenched in rage. "Don't even think about it! With all the bodyguards and private doctors in this house watching you, even if you make it to the underworld, I'll drag you back!"

There was a manic obsession in his voice. "You don't get to die without my permission! Remember this, Kaylee—you'll stay by my side and suffer for the rest of your life!"

The lack of oxygen made Kaylee's vision go black, and just as she was about to lose consciousness, Jerome finally let go.

"You ruined Emma's birthday party tonight," he said coldly. "So you'll make it up to her with a proposal. Tomorrow, you'll handle everything yourself. If you disappoint me again, you know what happens."

Kaylee coughed so hard it felt like her lungs would tear, but she still managed a soft reply, "Okay."

Jerome seemed even angrier, slamming the door as he left.

Kaylee didn't rest at all that night.

She forced her weakened body to personally prepare the proposal venue.

She made it as lavish as possible.

Crystal chandeliers scattered light across the grand hall, and Kaylee herself laid out a path of rose petals stretching from the entrance all the way to the central stage.

She stepped into the shadows, watching Jerome walk in hand-in-hand with Emmaline.

Emmaline wore the wedding dress Kaylee had once dreamed of, her smile radiant and beautiful.

Jerome, in a perfectly tailored black suit, moved with an air of refined elegance.

"Emma." Jerome knelt on one knee in the center of the stage, producing a dazzling diamond ring from a velvet box. "Marry me. I'll love you forever, and treat you well for a lifetime."

His voice was impossibly gentle, his gaze fixed on Emmaline. The guests immediately started to cheer, "Say yes! Say yes!"

Standing at the very back, Kaylee clapped along mechanically.

Her lips moved silently, echoing the crowd, "Say yes...

"Say yes..."

Emmaline's face was alight with happiness, just about to answer when, for some reason, Jerome suddenly withdrew the ring.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Kaylee in the shadows, noticing her blank expression, his gaze growing darker.

Amid the guests' stunned looks, Jerome turned his attention back to Emmaline, his voice gentle.

"Emma, since you're not ready yet, we'll save it for another time. Next time, I'll personally prepare an even grander proposal."

Emmaline's face went pale in an instant, but with all eyes on her, she forced a smile.

"Sure... of course..."

Before she could finish, Jerome's phone rang.

He glanced at the caller ID and quickly walked out to the terrace to answer.

Kaylee hadn't expected the proposal she'd prepared so carefully to end like this.

But her job was done. She could leave now.

She turned and had just stepped out the front door when Emmaline stormed over, blocking her path.

"Kaylee, feeling proud of yourself, aren't you?" Emmaline gripped her wrist so hard her nails nearly broke the skin. "You think Jerry gave up on the proposal because of you? Dream on! All he feels for you is hatred!"

Kaylee looked at her calmly. "I never thought that. He said he'd marry you, and I wish you both well. What more do you want from me?"

"The only thing I want is for you to be dead!" Emmaline suddenly lowered her voice, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Tell me, if Jerry saw you trying to kill me, do you think he'd actually finish you off?"

Before Kaylee could react, Emmaline abruptly let go and fell backward—

"Ah—"

She tumbled down the tall staircase, crashing hard onto the marble floor below. Blood quickly pooled beneath her.

In the hospital corridor, the light above the operating room was on.

Jerome grabbed Kaylee by the throat, slamming her against the wall. "How dare you hurt Emma?"

His words were spat through clenched teeth. "Your father killed mine, and now you want to follow in his footsteps? Have you learned nothing from my warnings?"

Kaylee struggled to breathe, too weak even to fight back.

Just then, the operating room door swung open. The doctor called out urgently, "The patient has lost too much blood—she needs an emergency transfusion!"

Jerome instantly let go, shoving Kaylee forward. "Draw from her. They have the same blood type. Take as much as you need—just don't kill her!"

Kaylee was dragged into the transfusion room.

A thick needle pierced her vein, and bright red blood flowed through the tube.

Her vision blurred. Just before she passed out, she thought she saw Jerome rushing toward her, but he stopped abruptly and turned away, heading over to check on Emmaline instead.

When she woke again, the hospital room was empty.

Kaylee struggled to sit up. She was just about to get out of bed when Jerome pushed open the door.

He strode over and grabbed her wrist, squeezing so hard it felt like her bones would snap.

"You're awake. Good. You're coming with me."

Kaylee stumbled, the IV needle tearing from the back of her hand, leaving a trail of blood.

She instinctively tried to pull away. "Let go..."

Jerome ignored her, dragging her down the long corridor.

Kaylee's bare feet slapped against the cold tile, her hospital gown hanging crookedly from being pulled around.

Nurses hurried past, heads down, not daring to look.

"What are you doing... Jerome!" She used all her strength to break free, her fingernails leaving bloody marks on the back of his hand.

Jerome spun around and slammed her against the wall. "Emma almost died because of you. You're going to apologize to her right now."

Kaylee trembled all over, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face. "I didn't push her..."

"The cameras caught everything!" Jerome's voice was suddenly loud, then dropped to a menacing whisper. "You were at the top of the stairs—when she fell, you were the only one there!"

Kaylee suddenly laughed, tears pouring down her cheeks. "Then kill me..."

Her voice was raw. "Just like your father died on my father's operating table—kill me!"

Jerome's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening even more.

Kaylee's pain made her vision go dark, but she stubbornly raised her head to meet his gaze.

The standoff was broken by a weak cough from Emmaline in the hospital room.

Jerome's expression hardened. He dragged Kaylee inside.

"Apologize," he ordered coldly.

Kaylee bit her lip, refusing to speak.

Jerome suddenly grabbed the back of her neck, forcing her to face Emmaline lying in the bed.

Emmaline, pale and bandaged, shrank back when she saw Kaylee, trying to hide behind Jerome.

"Don't be scared, Emma." Jerome stroked her cheek comfortingly, then turned to Kaylee with a harsh command. "Apologize!"

Kaylee's vision blurred.

She watched Jerome protect Emmaline and suddenly remembered years ago, when she'd been sick with a fever, and he'd stayed by her bedside all night, changing her cold towels without rest.

"I..." She opened her mouth, but her throat felt blocked.

Jerome's patience snapped, his grip tightening.

The pain finally shattered Kaylee's last bit of defiance. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the floor.

"I'm sorry..." Her tears splashed onto the tile. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have pushed you down the stairs..."

Emmaline's lips curled in satisfaction as she leaned closer to Jerome.

Afterward, she struggled to her feet, swaying as she walked out.

Her hospital gown hung loosely, exposing the jagged scar on her collarbone.

Jerome watched her go, a sudden tightness in his chest.

When had she gotten so thin? Her shoulders looked sharp enough to poke through the gown, her wrists so fragile they seemed like they could snap.

"Jerry..." Emmaline weakly tugged on his sleeve. "My head hurts..."

Jerome immediately turned away, bending down to check on Emmaline's injuries.

When he looked up again, Kaylee was gone from the doorway.

When Kaylee returned home, she was so weak she could barely stand.

She leaned against the doorframe, gasping for breath, before finally mustering the strength to stumble into her bedroom.

Even crossing those few short steps, her vision went black several times, and she nearly collapsed.

She spent the entire day in her room, gathering every trace of her memories with Jerome.

Photos, gifts, diaries—anything that held a piece of their past—she piled them all in the yard.

Her hands shook violently as she tried to light the fire, dropping the lighter three times before the flame finally caught.

In the flickering glow, she saw the photo of them in the Maldives.

Jerome was behind her, arms wrapped around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder, smiling with warmth and affection.

"When we're old, let's show these pictures to our grandkids."

Kaylee suddenly laughed, and as she laughed, her tears fell into the flames.

On the last day of her countdown, Kaylee forced herself to visit a funeral supply shop.

She bought her parents' favorite pastries and flowers.

The road to the cemetery felt impossibly long. She had to stop and rest every few steps, her vision swimming with darkness.

It took her three hours to walk the two kilometers.

"Mom... Dad..." she gasped, clutching the tombstone as she struggled up the slope. "Wait for me... I'll be with you soon..."

Finally, when she reached halfway up the hill, her legs gave out, and she dropped to her knees.

She couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Emmaline was there with a crew of workers, digging up her parents' graves!

The headstones had been toppled, the burial mounds torn open, and Emmaline was holding her parents' urn.

"What are you doing?!" Kaylee lunged forward, trying to snatch it away.

Emmaline dodged easily, shaking the urn with smug delight. "I wasn't satisfied with your apology yesterday. Since Jerome can't bear to hurt you, let your parents suffer in your place."

Kaylee collapsed to her knees, her forehead striking the gravel hard.

"I'll apologize again—I'm sorry. I was wrong.

"I'm begging you... please give me back their ashes..."

Blood ran down her brow into her eyes, but she kept bowing desperately. "Please... I'm begging you..."

"Fine," Emmaline suddenly laughed, lips curling in cruel satisfaction. "I'll give them back."

With Kaylee watching in horror, Emmaline slowly tilted the urn.

"No!" Kaylee screamed, her voice ragged, lunging forward only to grab at empty air.

She watched helplessly as her parents' ashes spilled into a dog bowl, and the wolfhound wagged its tail excitedly, licking them up greedily.

At that moment, Kaylee's world shattered.

Smack!

Kaylee slapped Emmaline across the face with every ounce of strength she had left.

Emmaline staggered, falling to the ground, but her smile was triumphant.

Just as expected, Jerome stormed over and shoved Kaylee aside with brutal force.

"Kaylee!" His furious voice echoed through the cemetery. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

Kaylee's head slammed against the broken headstone, blood pouring out instantly.

Ignoring the pain, she clung desperately to the few ashes left in her hand, crying out in anguish, "That's exactly what I want! I wish I could kill her! Do you even know what she's done? She dug up my parents' graves and... fed their ashes to the dog!"

Jerome bent down to pick up Emmaline, his eyes colder than the winter rain. "Good job."

He wiped the blood from Emmaline's lips. "If Emma hadn't done it, I would have. When your father killed mine, you should have known this day would come!"

Kaylee collapsed in the mud, watching as Jerome carried Emmaline away.

His coat shielded Emmaline from the rain, just as he used to hold an umbrella for her with gentle care.

Cold raindrops mixed with burning tears on Kaylee's face.

She looked down at the tiny bit of ash in her palm and suddenly began to laugh.

As she laughed, blood gushed from her mouth.

Then again, and again.

It poured out like a broken dam, staining half the headstone red.

Her vision blurred, but she stubbornly traced her parents' names on the tombstone with her fingertips.

"Mom... Dad..." Her voice was barely a whisper, "Wait for me... I'll be there soon..."

When Kaylee opened her eyes, she found herself lying in the guest room of Jerome's house.

The wound on her forehead had already been bandaged, and her wet clothes had been replaced with a clean set of pajamas.

She raised her hand to her chest, feeling for her heartbeat—it was barely there.

Suddenly, the door was pushed open. A bodyguard stood in the doorway, his voice cold. "You're awake? Mr. Felker said he and Ms. Tanori are going to meet her parents today. You're to stay put and behave."

Kaylee didn't answer. She simply gazed quietly out the window.

Today was the final day before her artificial heart gave out; her life would end today.

At the thought, a faint smile of relief tugged at her lips.

Slowly, she sat up. The artificial heart emitted a weak, rhythmic beeping, like the last countdown.

"I want to go out," she said softly.

The bodyguard frowned. "No, Mr. Felker said—"

"I just need to buy a few things," Kaylee interrupted calmly. "You can come with me."

The bodyguard hesitated, but eventually agreed.

After all, Mr. Felker had only ordered them to prevent her from harming herself, not from leaving the house.

The sun was bright and warm that day. Kaylee's first stop was a photography studio.

"A memorial portrait?" The photographer stared in surprise at the young, beautiful woman before him. "Are you sure, miss?"

Kaylee nodded, even managing a small smile. "I'll need it today."

After the photos were taken, she went to the funeral home and picked out the simplest casket and a burial plot.

The plot was right next to her parents. She reached out, her fingers gently tracing the cold surface of their gravestones.

"Mom, Dad... I'll be joining you soon."

Finally, she walked to the third, empty grave, where a casket had already been placed inside.

She smiled faintly and lay down in it, completely at peace.

Sunlight fell across her pale face as she closed her eyes, feeling her heartbeat grow weaker and weaker.

"Mr. Felker..." One of the bodyguards, hands trembling, dialed the phone. "Ms. Maloney... she's lying in the casket..."

Jerome's voice came cold and hard through the receiver. "Put her on the phone."

The bodyguard held the phone next to Kaylee.

"Kaylee, what stunt are you pulling now?" Jerome's voice was tight with suppressed anger. "You think lying in a casket is going to kill you? Planning to bash your head in or suffocate yourself? I'm telling you one last time—with bodyguards watching, you're never going to die!"

Kaylee could feel her heartbeat fading, her breath growing shallow.

She let out a soft laugh. "Jerome... This time, you might be disappointed...

"I'm dying... and there's nothing you can do to stop it."

Jerome scoffed, "Go ahead and try."

Kaylee slowly closed her eyes, the corners of her lips lifting. "Try... Of course I'll try."

Jerome's voice was still coming through the phone, mocking, taunting—but she couldn't hear him anymore.

Her heart stopped. The artificial heart gave one last long beep—

Then silence.

The bodyguards' eyes went wide with shock. They rushed to check, but she was already gone.

Sunlight continued to warm her peaceful face, as if she were only asleep.

This time, no one would ever be able to wake her again.