Chapter 3

I don't know how much time passed before the door was violently split open with a fire axe.

"There's a survivor here! Quick! Stretcher!"

Blinding flashlight beams shone on my face as several fully equipped firefighters rushed in.

Seeing the horrific rebar through my shoulder blade and the huge pool of blood on the floor, even these experienced rescue workers gasped.

"The victim has lost massive amounts of blood and is in severe shock! Start cutting immediately, prepare the cardiac stimulant!"

The vibration from the saw cutting the rebar made me hurt so much I didn't even have the strength to scream.

In the second before I lost consciousness, I heard a voice come through the walkie-talkie from downstairs: "Captain, we found a male outside the building perimeter trying to force his way into the apartment building across the street that lost power. We've detained him..."

I closed my eyes, a tear of despair sliding from the corner of my eye.

When I woke up again, it was three days later.

The smell of disinfectant was pungent. I struggled to open my eyes to see the white ceiling of a VIP hospital room.

Hearing the sound, the man sitting on the sofa slowly uncrossed his legs.

"You're awake?" Ethan's tone was flat, as natural as if he were asking what I had for breakfast.

He walked to the bedside and opened a premium thermos on the table, ladling out a bowl of fragrant chicken soup.

"This is from that exclusive restaurant you love. I had my assistant wait in line for two hours to get it." He scooped up a spoonful, blew on it, and brought it to my lips. "Eat. The doctor said you need nutrition."

"Take it away." My voice was as hoarse as sandpaper rubbing together, so weak I didn't even have the strength to turn my head.

Ethan's hand froze in midair, a flash of impatience in his eyes.

"Chloe, how long are you going to throw this tantrum?" He set the bowl down heavily on the nightstand, soup splashing out. "I told you, I can't be an ungrateful person. You're out of danger now, aren't you? It's just some superficial injuries. A few days of rest and you'll be fine."

A nurse pushing a medication cart walked in just in time to hear this and turned pale with anger.

"How can you talk like that as a family member?" The nurse pulled back my blanket and unbuttoned my hospital gown, revealing the horrifying scar with over twenty stitches.

"The patient's wound came within a hair's breadth of piercing her heart. When she arrived, she was already in severe hemorrhagic shock. We spent a day and night in ICU resuscitation to bring her back! If you're family, please get it straight---this is a severe penetrating injury, not some superficial wound!"

Ethan's expression instantly darkened, his cold gaze sweeping over the nurse: "This is our family business. It's not your place as an outsider to interfere."

The nurse was frightened into silence by his terrifying look, her eyes reddening as she changed my dressing.

Ethan turned his head, looking down at me from above.

"I know you feel wronged. But these past few days I've been busy with the company's post-disaster reconstruction, and I've had to take care of Vanessa after her shock. I'm already exhausted. Can you be a little more understanding?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, his tone carrying a patronizing compromise.

"The day after tomorrow is the day we agreed to get our marriage license. After we register, I'll take you to Europe to relax. You can pick out whatever bags you want. Let's just turn the page on this, okay?"

I looked at him quietly, suddenly feeling he was completely unfamiliar.

He was used to my five years of unconditional devotion and compliance. He was certain I loved him to the bone, certain I couldn't leave him.

So he could brazenly trample my boundaries, treat my life as worthless, then hand out some cheap material compensation to dismiss me.

Just then, his phone rang with a special ringtone.

He answered almost immediately, his previously cold voice instantly becoming so gentle it could drip honey: "What's wrong, Vanessa? Another nightmare? Don't be scared, I'm coming right over."

After hanging up, he grabbed his coat from the chair without hesitation.

"Vanessa's emotionally unstable. I need to go see her."

He pulled a folded piece of paper from his suit pocket and placed it on the nightstand.

"This is the marriage health certificate. Day after tomorrow at 10 a.m., I'll wait for you at the county clerk’s office entrance. Don't be late."

At the door, he stopped and looked back at me, his tone carrying a warning: "Chloe, don't disappoint me."

The hospital room door closed.

I looked at that red-stamped marriage certificate, and beside it, his blood-soaked shirt from when he pressed it against my wound that day in the fire---now dried and blackened.

Using what little strength I had left, I swept both the marriage certificate and the bloody shirt into the trash.