The Mistress He Threw Away Is Now a Bride

Prologue I loved Sean Vance for nine years and spent five of them as his secret mistress. He once told me his heart belonged to someone else and that he could never love me back. So, I was content being the on-call interpreter by his side, staying with him through long distances, waiting for him to turn around. Until his first love made a high-profile return from abroad. He publicly dismissed me as a nobody and let her beat me until I was bleeding and bruised. I finally understood that nine years of deep devotion was nothing more than my own foolish delusion. I burned all my memories and submitted my resignation. This time, Sean, I don't want you anymore. Daisy's POV At two in the morning, I watched Sean Vance make a high-profile confession of love to another woman. The usually private Sean actually posted a personal update for the whole world to see on Ins. Against a blazing sunset, Sean held a glamorous woman tightly in his arms, kissing her passionately. In his eyes was an intensity I had never seen before. The caption read: [Finally got you back. I have no regrets in this life.] On the dining table, the birthday cake I had spent all afternoon baking had already collapsed into a sticky pool of melted cream. Clinging to one last sliver of hope, my trembling hands dialed Sean's number. The call connected, but what came through the receiver was Madison Cole's soft, breathy voice: "Sean, someone named Daisy keeps calling. I answered, but she isn't saying anything." Immediately after, Sean's familiar, chilling voice replied without a second of hesitation: "Ignore it. Just a nobody. Go back to sleep." Click. The dial tone buzzed harshly in my ear. A nobody. I stood in the cold, dark living room. A quiet, broken laugh escaped my lips, tears streaming down my cheeks. A nine-year unrequited crush. Five years as his hidden bed partner. Being his personal translator, on call twenty-four hours a day. I remembered he took his coffee black, with no sugar. I remembered his severe allergy to dust mites. I remembered every tiny habit he had at the negotiation table. Yet in the end, coming from his mouth, I didn't even deserve a name. Five years ago, at a business dinner. Sean had been drugged by an aggressive rival. After a passionate night together, he smoked a cigarette and tossed a credit card at me, his voice icy: "My heart belongs to someone else. I can't give you love, and I won't take responsibility." With red-rimmed eyes, clutching the edge of the sheet, I said, "I don't want money. If she never comes back, we stay like this. But if she ever returns, I'll pack my bags and walk away. I'll never bother you." Now that Madison was back, it was indeed time for me, the shadowy substitute, to step off the stage. At dawn, I sent a confirmation email to HR: "I have received my resignation letter signed off by Mr. Vance. My last working day will be in one month. Please proceed with the standard offboarding. No need to bring it up to him." Sean never looked at the names when signing documents. He didn't even realize he had personally approved my departure. Half an hour later, I pulled my half-empty suitcase through the front gates of the villa. Through the swirling blizzard, a familiar black Maybach slowly pulled up to the curb. Sean pushed the door open and stepped out. Glancing at my suitcase, his brow furrowed slightly. "In this snow? Where are you going?" "Moving to a studio apartment I rented. Just staying there for a month," I said, my voice completely flat. Sean's eyes flickered. He took the suitcase and put it in the trunk. "A month? You won't find a cab in this weather. I'll drive you." Sliding into the passenger seat, my entire body stiffened. On the seat sat a pink bow pillow. A glittery charm dangled from the rearview mirror, and the console was stuffed with opened packages of sugary snacks. Before, this car had been so spotless that not a single speck of dust was tolerated. Sean had extreme OCD; if a floor mat was off by a millimeter, he would straighten it immediately. "Madison likes the car to feel lively," Sean explained casually, keeping his eyes on the road. I dug my nails into my palms, the sharp pain biting into my flesh. It turned out that a man's boundaries and principles meant absolutely nothing in front of the woman he truly loved. I pulled my gaze back and said softly, "Congratulations, Mr. Vance. You finally got her back." Sean didn't answer. The only sound in the car was the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers. Halfway there, the car's Bluetooth suddenly rang. Madison's sweet, whiny voice echoed through the speakers: "Sean, tonight is the last night of the Winter Lights Festival. You promised to go with me. Where are you?" Sean slammed on the brakes, turning to look at me, hesitation clear in his eyes. A cold laugh surfaced in my chest. I unbuckled my seatbelt and pushed the door open: "Mr. Vance, the subway station is right ahead. Go be with Miss Cole. Don't keep her waiting." Sean got out to help me grab my luggage. The icy road was slick. His grip slipped, and the suitcase crashed heavily onto the snowy pavement, the latches popping open. The contents inside scattered across the ground in an instant. Nine thick, leather-bound journals. And hundreds of magazine clippings featuring his business interviews over the years. Under the dim glow of the streetlamp, heavy snowflakes fell over nine years of poured-out devotion—a glaring, pathetic sight. Sean froze completely. An unreadable shock flashed across his eyes. My heart seized violently, followed by a bitter, self-mocking pang. I bent down immediately, frantically stuffing everything back into the case. "Sorry, I can clean it up myself. Safe travels, Mr. Vance." Sean stared deeply at me in the snow for several seconds. In the end, he asked nothing. He turned, got back into the car, and drove away. The sleek black sedan kicked up icy spray, speeding off without a hint of reluctance. I knelt alone in the freezing cold. Before I could even zip the bag shut, a motorcycle coming the wrong way around the corner slammed directly into me! Agonizing pain shot up from my right ankle as the rider cursed loudly and sped off into the night. My ankle swelled into an ugly purple within minutes; every step felt like walking on broken glass. A drive that normally took thirty minutes took me nearly five grueling hours of limping through the blizzard, dragging my broken bag. By the time the sky turned pale gray, I finally dragged myself into the apartment. I collapsed onto the sofa, completely drained. My phone buzzed once. It was a text Sean had sent three hours ago: [There are plenty of decent men in this city. You don't have to obsess over me.] Staring at those words, the very last spark of light in my eyes went completely dark. When the sun rose, I dragged my injured leg downstairs and crouched near the trash bins in the snow. Click. The flame of a lighter licked the corner of a page. Nine journals. Hundreds of clippings. Along with all the humble love I had spent nine years pouring out. In the crackling fire, it all curled, blackened, and turned to ash. The morning wind blew, scattering the gray remnants into nothingness. I stood up, checking the date circled on my phone's calendar. One month left until my last day. This time, I won't wait for anyone ever again.Daisy's POV Monday morning, I badged into the office right on time. The snow had long since buried the spot where I burned nine years of memories. I rubbed some analgesic ointment on my ankle and hid the swollen joint under wide-leg trousers. Calmly, I worked through the backlog of emails. Checking my watch, the hands pointed to 9:57 AM. I gathered my folders, stood up, and walked toward the CEO's office to remind him of the upcoming meeting. The office door was cracked open a sliver. Just as I raised my hand to knock, my eyes caught what was happening inside. Madison was sitting on Sean's lap, feeding him a piece of strawberry shortcake with a fork. Sean always kept his shirt buttoned up to the very top. His desk was usually so immaculate that even a stray strand of hair would bother him, yet right now, he was smiling, leaning down to take the bite. After swallowing, he even leaned in to gently kiss the tip of Madison's finger. "You said two days ago you craved that bakery's soufflé. I stood in line for four hours starting at five this morning. Does it taste right?" Sean's voice was softer and gentler than I had ever heard it. "Delicious. Tastes just like back in college," Madison mumbled around the pastry, leaning lazily against his chest. "You're a CEO now, why bother doing that yourself? You could have just sent an intern." Sean rubbed her calf, his eyes dripping with affection. "If it's about you, I want to handle it myself. I don't trust anyone else with it." Madison giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning in for a kiss. Sean cupped the back of her head, deepening it eagerly. Standing outside, my stomach churned violently, a suffocating tightness squeezing my chest. I dug my nails into my palms, using the sharp sting to force my breathing steady. The clock struck ten. I raised my hand and tapped firmly on the door. "Mr. Vance, the video conference for the cross-border merger starts in three minutes." Hearing the knock, Sean paused, about to pull back and stand up. Madison instantly tugged on his tie, clinging tightly to his waist and refusing to get down. "I'm not letting you go. You promised you'd spend the entire day with me in the office." With a pout from her, all the sternness on Sean's face melted into helpless indulgence. He looked up toward me at the door. "Push the meeting back three hours." I stayed rooted by the door. "Mr. Vance, the VPs from the partnering firms are already in the conference room. The overseas team coordinated across time zones just for this—" "Sean, does your interpreter have zero common sense?!" Madison frowned, snapping irritably. Sean's expression instantly turned pitch black. "Did you not hear me? Push it back three hours." "No work is more important than Madison." Looking at the chilling face behind the desk, my throat felt clogged with cotton. Without another word, I pulled the door shut and turned away. Everyone in the industry knew Sean Vance was an absolute workaholic, the kind who would pull an all-nighter reviewing balance sheets with a 102-degree fever. Leaving executives from several publicly traded partners waiting in a boardroom just for a woman's pout—this was truly a first. I composed myself, pushed open the boardroom doors, and bowed respectfully to apologize to all the corporate heads present. Unable to vent their fury directly at Sean, they unloaded all their frustration and scathing insults onto me, the interpreter. I stood in front of the projection screen with my head down, enduring two and a half hours of relentless scolding in complete silence. Only after the executives stormed out with dark faces did I drag my aching legs out of the boardroom. Just as I reached the hallway, Madison intercepted me in her stilettos. "You're Daisy, right? Sean says you're quite capable." Madison crossed her arms, looking me up and down. "Everyone looks tired from the meeting. Head to the breakroom and prep drinks for the entire floor. I want freshly squeezed orange juice. Extra ice, no sugar." I gave her a flat look, said nothing, and turned toward the pantry. I sliced fruit and operated the juicer, standing in the breakroom for the entire afternoon to churn out over a hundred cups. Placing the cups on trays, I distributed them department by department, finally bringing the reserved cup over to Madison. Madison took a tiny sip, and her face darkened instantly. She grabbed the heavy glass and hurled it straight at my face. The thick glass base struck my temple with a brutal thud. Blood burst instantly from my split skin, trickling past my brow bone and down my cheek. A muffled groan escaped my lips as I stumbled backward, hitting the edge of a desk. Still unsatisfied, Madison picked up the remaining cups from the tray and dumped them directly over my head. Glasses shattered on the floor, the icy, sticky citrus mixing with warm blood to soak my white blouse. Flying shards sliced several stinging cuts across the backs of my hands and forearms. Curling inward from the agony, I instinctively shielded my head. The entire open-plan office fell dead silent. Dozens of employees sat at their cubicles, none daring to step in. The CEO's office door was thrown open, and Sean strode out. Seeing the shattered glass, spilled juice, and me curled on the floor covered in blood, his brow knotted into a tight frown. "What's going on here?" Madison immediately threw herself into Sean's arms, her eyes welling with tears as she whimpered. "Sean, I just asked her for a glass of juice. She knew it was the first day of my period, but she deliberately packed it with ice! I took one sip and my stomach is cramping terribly!" Sean took one look at Madison's teary eyes, and the air around him plummeted to freezing. He glared coldly down at me on the floor. "Five years at Vance Corp, and you can't even handle a simple task like this?" "Or do you have a problem with Madison and are targeting her on purpose?" I lifted my blood-smeared face, parting dry lips to explain. Sean had already turned to the HR director standing nearby. "Daisy violated company protocol by deliberately harassing an executive's family member. Suspend her pay for one month and revoke all quarterly bonuses." "Issue a company-wide reprimand. She is to submit a three-thousand-word formal apology at next Monday's all-hands meeting." With that, he stripped off his suit jacket, wrapped it tightly around Madison, scooped her up into his arms, and walked straight toward the private executive elevator without looking back.Daisy's POV Watching Sean carry Madison down the hallway, the tears I had held back finally spilled over. Bracing myself against a cubicle partition, I pulled myself up slowly, then went to the maintenance closet for a broom and mop. Kneeling on the cold tiles, I picked up the jagged shards of glass one by one, wiping away the sticky orange juice. Two colleagues I usually got along with came over to help, their eyes filled with pity. "I heard her clear as day. Miss Cole specifically asked for ice," one whispered, handing me a clean paper towel. "Daisy, how did you manage to get on her bad side?" "She's been spoiled like that since childhood. The second things don't go her way, she takes it out on anyone nearby." The other sighed, tossing the glass into a bin. "The whole company sees how crazy Mr. Vance is about her. Regular employees like us can't afford to cross her. You just have to swallow it." I kept my head down, scrubbing the stains, a heavy weight in my chest. I said nothing. Two years ago, when an international contract went sideways, a client had sneakily altered a clause and tried pinning the entire blame on me. The client had slammed the desk, hurled folders, and threatened to sue Vance Corp. Back then, Sean had stood up, slammed the contract right back in their faces in front of dozens of executives, and said, "I know my people. Touch her, and you deal with my legal team first." Back then, Sean protected me unconditionally. Now, without even bothering to ask a question, all it took was a little pout from Madison for him to pin every single wrongdoing on my head. Five years of loyal companionship couldn't hold a candle to a few words from the woman who just returned. "Bring a pot of hot tea and two heating pads to the penthouse." Sean's voice through the intercom carried no inflection. I dried my hands, acknowledged the order, slipped on a coat, brewed the tea in the kitchen, and took a cab straight to his residence. Pushing open the front doors, the place was completely unrecognizable. The mature tree in the courtyard had been ripped out and replaced with a crowded bed of hydrangeas. The dark, understated wood furniture in the living room was gone, swapped for glaring shades of baby pink and cream. The display shelves by the entrance were overflowing with designer handbags and brand-new designer heels. I had only moved out three days ago, yet not a single trace of Daisy remained. I walked up to the master bedroom on the second floor and knocked on the door. Sean pulled it open to take the supplies. The moment his eyes landed on my face, he froze. With the blood washed away, the jagged cut on my temple was raw, swollen, and bruised. "What happened to your forehead? Did you see a doctor?" Sean reached out to touch the wound, but I instinctively tilted my head away, dodging his fingers. I shook my head silently. Sean retracted his hand, pinched the bridge of his nose, and softened his tone slightly. "Madison wasn't feeling well today. She got emotional, that's all. She didn't mean to take it out on you. Don't take it to heart." "As for your docked pay and bonus, I'll have accounting reimburse you in full during year-end adjustments." "Take tomorrow and the next day to get a full check-up at the hospital. Bill it to the corporate insurance. I'll give you a week of paid leave." I kept my eyes fixed on his collar. "No need, Mr. Vance. By the end of this month, I will formally—" Sean pulled a black Centurion card from his pocket, shoved it into my hand, and cut me off entirely. "Just take the card and do as you're told." "Madison's welcome-back party with her friends is this week. You need to oversee the event coordination. Rest up and heal first." Holding the cold metal card, my throat felt parched. I swallowed the rest of my words, gave a quiet nod, and turned toward the stairs. The moment the bedroom door clicked shut behind me, Madison's sweet, clingy voice drifted through. "Sean, is the tea poured yet? My cramps are still so bad, come massage my stomach." "Coming right now. Stay under the duvet." Sean's voice was gentle enough to melt. Walking down the stairs, a self-deprecating smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. Years ago, during my worst period cramps, I had passed out on-site during a major translation assignment and was rushed away in an ambulance. When Sean found out, he merely approved half a day off through routine HR channels—not a single personal word of concern. Back then, I always excused him, thinking he was simply too busy running a massive enterprise to worry about private matters. Now, I finally saw the truth clearly: when someone actually cares, they always have time. I left the house, went to an urgent care clinic, got the wound disinfected, and had two stitches put in. Four days later, Madison's welcome-back gala kicked off in a luxury hotel ballroom. From the floral arrangements and dessert displays to the service staff's floor flow, I checked every single detail off the list. At seven sharp, Madison walked in on four-inch heels, surrounded by a glamorous crowd of socialites and trust-fund heirs. The crowd swarmed her instantly, showers of praise rising from every corner. "Madison, you're just as radiant as ever! Sean booked out this entire ballroom for you—he's been utterly obsessed with you for ten years straight!" "Remember in college when that guy tried asking you out? Sean pulled strings to get him kicked out of school! Everyone knows Madison is his queen." "Look at that diamond necklace she's wearing—limited edition worldwide. Sean spares no expense when it comes to spoiling you!"Daisy's POV I stood quietly in the shadows at the edge of the ballroom, looking down at my clipboard, not saying a word. Madison strolled over, champagne flute in hand, her critical gaze sweeping over me. "The venue setup is mediocre, but there's one thing I'm really not happy with." Madison pointed to the hem of her gown. "The floors were just waxed. My train is dragging and might get dirty. Tonight, you'll walk behind me and carry my train." I closed the folder, my expression completely flat. "One moment, Miss Cole. We have carpet runners backstage. I'll have the crew roll them out immediately." Seeing that I wouldn't instantly submit, Madison's face soured. Sean walked over with a drink in hand. Seeing her scowl, he wrapped an arm around her waist. "What's wrong?" "Sean, I was worried about ruining my custom gown, so I asked your personal interpreter to help hold the train. She's giving me attitude. She's clearly still holding a grudge about the other day." Madison leaned against Sean's shoulder, her eyes reddening. Sean patted her back soothingly, but when he turned his gaze to me, his eyes were frosty. "It's just carrying a train. That's part of your duties for tonight's event." "You've been with the company for years. Can't you handle something this simple?" A few wealthy guests nearby joined in with sneers. "She's just a hired interpreter on payroll, and she's acting like she's someone important." "Who does she think she is? Miss Cole letting you hold her dress is an honor. Know your place." Looking at the chilling indifference in Sean's eyes, my chest seized tight. Swallowing the bitter ache, I bent down and picked up the heavy train of Madison's gown. With her arm linked through Sean's, Madison strutted up and down the grand spiral staircase in her towering heels. The train was heavily encrusted with metallic beading and crystals, rough and heavy against my skin. Forced to stay half-bent the entire time, my arms quickly grew numb and swollen, the metal edges cutting tiny, stinging gashes into my fingers. When Madison finally grew tired, she sat in a VIP booth and waved over a waiter carrying an entire tray of liquor shots. "My friends came out to celebrate my return, but I can't drink tonight. As Sean's assistant, you drink this entire tray for me." I stood still. "I have a severe alcohol allergy." "Sean, look at her ruining my mood again!" Madison tugged on Sean's sleeve, pouting. Sean knew damn well I was allergic to alcohol. But looking at Madison's pout, his voice showed zero compromise. "You keep allergy meds in your bag at all times. Take a couple of pills first. A few drinks won't kill you." Looking into his dead, unbothered eyes, I let out a soft, mocking chuckle. The pills in my bag were for pollen allergies. He used to know that perfectly well. I dug two white pills out of my purse and swallowed them dry. Under the watchful eyes of the entire room, I picked up the glasses and poured the liquor down my throat, one after another. The burning alcohol seared my esophagus and tore through my stomach lining. Nausea and sharp cramps surged violently, and the figures around me began to blur and double. Just as I finished the seventh glass, Madison let out a shrill scream. "My earring! Where is the diamond earring Sean gave me?!" Madison jumped to her feet, pointing an accusing finger at me as I swayed on my feet. "No one has been near me tonight except her, hovering right behind my back! She definitely stole it while holding my dress!" The vicious stomach cramps made my whole body tremble. Clinging to my last shred of consciousness, I defended myself. "Mr. Vance, I didn't take anything." Sean looked at Madison's tear-filled eyes, then glanced at my pale face and the smell of alcohol coming from me, his brow furrowing hard. "It was crowded tonight. It probably slipped off while walking. I'll have security look for it first." "Sean Vance!" Madison yanked her hand away from his, crying hysterically. "You picked that earring out yourself as our promise token! Do you have any idea how much it means to me? And now you're protecting a thieving outsider?!" "If you don't strip-search her right here, right now, we can forget about getting engaged! We're done!" Madison turned to storm out. Panic flashed across Sean's face. He grabbed her back, then signaled with a flick of his wrist to the two security guards behind him. "Search her." Two burly guards rushed forward, pinning my arms behind my back and slamming me face-down onto the freezing marble floor. The rough force wrenched my joints, sending sharp pain through my shoulders, my mind going blank. "I didn't take it! Let me go!" I struggled with everything I had, thrashing on the ground, but their hands locked around me like iron clamps, tearing at my jacket and ripping open my pockets. Buttons popped off, my collar was torn wide open, and my bare skin scraped against the floor, leaving stinging red welts. Surrounding guests held their drinks, watching the spectacle with cold, amused eyes. Just as the guards reached to tear open my inner camisole, Sean's brow twitched, and he shifted slightly, about to call them off. Suddenly, the ballroom side door swung open, and an event coordinator ran over with a velvet tray. "Mr. Vance, we found it! Miss Cole's diamond earring fell into the gap behind the restroom sink!" Under the glaring chandeliers, all eyes fell upon the undamaged diamond earring. The tension in Sean's jaw slackened. He waved the guards off. Picking up the earring from the tray, he gently clipped it back onto Madison's earlobe. "It's found. No more crying, alright?" Madison giggled through her tears, looping her arm around Sean's, her eyes slanting down toward me as I lay battered on the floor with torn clothes. "Thank goodness it wasn't lost, or I'd never forgive myself." Madison covered her mouth, letting out a fake sigh. "Still, Miss Daisy went through all this because of my misunderstanding... Should I apologize to her?" Dozens of mocking, voyeuristic gazes locked onto me as I huddled on the freezing floor, bruised and humiliated. Clutching my torn clothes over my chest, I curled into a tight ball against the cold stone. Through the suffocating humiliation, Sean's indifferent voice drifted down from above. "No need to apologize. She's just a hired interpreter on payroll. Taking a little hardship and unfairness is part of the job."Daisy's POV Sean's casual dismissal crushed the very last ounce of my dignity into dust. The high-society crowd dispersed with mocking smiles, leaving only the catering staff clearing dirty plates. A young waitress walked over and draped an oversized cleaner's jacket over my torn clothes. Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself up, wrapped the jacket tightly around myself, and walked out of the hotel lobby, stepping gingerly on bruised feet. Outside, rain was pouring in sheets, slamming violently against my body. Soaked to the bone, the alcohol allergy triggered a splitting headache and violent stomach spasms, making every step a struggle. A sleek black sedan rolled up beside me. The window slid down, revealing Sean's tense jawline. "Get in." Acting as if he didn't exist, I dragged my leaden legs forward into the downpour. Sean shoved the door open, caught up in a few strides, and clamped his hand around my wrist. "I said get in. Can't you hear me?" I stopped and turned to look at him, my face as white as paper. "I wouldn't dare trouble you, Mr. Vance. I'm just a hired interpreter on payroll. I don't belong in your car." Seeing the chilling detachment in my eyes, Sean's fingers tightened involuntarily. "I didn't handle the search well tonight, but Madison just got back. I owe her too much from the past, and I can't let her feel slighted." "Whatever you suffered tonight, I'll compensate you for it later. Don't throw a tantrum in public." I yanked my wrist out of his grip with all my strength, taking two steps back to put distance between us. "You're overthinking it, Mr. Vance. I'm just a working girl. I have no right to throw tantrums at you or your future wife." "I didn't know my place before. From today on, I will remember that I am merely an interpreter. I will never interfere with your personal life again." Looking at my deadpan eyes, Sean's voice grew irritated. "You know that's not what I meant!" "I only said those things to humor Madison in front of her friends. In my heart, you—" I couldn't hear whatever came next. The raging fever and severe allergic reaction overwhelmed my nervous system completely. Darkness rushed in, and I collapsed straight into the flooded street. When I opened my eyes again, harsh white hospital lights stared back down at me. My soaked clothes had been replaced with a striped hospital gown. The cuts on my temple and arms were treated with iodine and wrapped in thick gauze. A nurse was adjusting my IV drip. Seeing me wake up, she glanced down with a warm smile. "You're awake? Your boyfriend stayed by your bedside all night. He only stepped out a minute ago for an urgent call." I moved my parched, cracked lips, my voice raspy and barely audible. "He's not my boyfriend." Between Sean Vance and me, from the moment that mistake happened five years ago, it was destined to stay hidden in the dark. Aside from the employer-employee relationship on my contract, he had never given me a single promise. Before, I was the fool lying to myself in the mud. Now, all I wanted was to sever every single tie and leave clean.Daisy's POV I spent three days in the hospital, and Sean never showed his face once. He merely had an assistant deliver a gift basket with a message telling me to recover properly before returning to work. I was in no rush to leave. I cooperated with the doctors, taking my meds and changing dressings until the cuts on my body scabbed over. During those days, the company's internal group chats were flooded with updates about Sean and Madison. Sean had rented out an entire downtown amusement park to make up for Madison's birthday, setting off water-screen fireworks for four consecutive nights. At a private Vance family gala, Sean had personally pinned the heirloom diamond brooch onto Madison's evening gown. Shortly after, Vance Real Estate purchased a massive plot of suburban land at a thirty percent premium, intending to build a private equestrian center just for Madison. I scrolled past the candid photos without pausing, my heart completely flat and unmoved. After clearing the discharge paperwork, I changed back into my sharp business suit and clocked in at the office as usual. I proofread every single international business contract without missing a beat, except that any file requiring Sean's signature was handed over to the administrative manager to deliver. After a peaceful week, the executive line rang directly at my desk. Holding the requested folder, I entered the CEO's office, placed the document flat on his desk, and turned to leave. "Hold on." Sean stopped me, flipping through a report. "I have a closed-door meeting on the west side shortly. Madison is in the lounge. She doesn't like eating alone in the office. Stay and keep her company." Before I could refuse, the lounge door opened. Madison stepped out wearing a baby-pink knit set, casually sitting on the guest sofa. "Sean says you're the most detail-oriented. I want seafood for lunch. Crack this king crab and get all the meat out for me first." Sean grabbed his suit jacket and car keys, closing the heavy doors behind him as he left. Looking at the platter on the coffee table, I didn't argue. I slipped on disposable gloves and quickly shelled the entire crab clean. Madison took a bite of the crab, then pointed toward a fresh seafood delivery nearby. "I want raw oysters too. The delivery guy forgot the shucking knife. Pry them open with your bare hands." The edges of fresh, jagged oyster shells were as sharp as razor blades. Using my bare hands to pry against the hard edges, the shells instantly sliced deep cuts across my fingertips and palms, blood welling out immediately. By the time I pried the last oyster open, both of my hands were covered in bloody cuts. "Now bring over the heated soup from the pantry." The takeout container had just come out of the microwave; the bottom was scalding hot. The moment my wounded hands gripped the container, a sharp spasm shot through my fingers. The edge slipped, and the piping-hot soup splashed down the inner side of my forearm. My skin turned bright red instantly, blistering into painful welts within seconds. A searing agony shot straight to my brain. I bit my lower lip hard, collapsing to my knees from the pain. Madison was just about to laugh when the sound of the office door unlocking clicked through the silence. Wiping the smirk off her face in a split second, she pinched the back of her own hand hard and let out a tearful, shrill shriek. "Sean! Miss Daisy couldn't even hold the soup steady! She deliberately splashed it at me and scalded my hand!" Sean rushed in, his face shifting instantly when he saw the mess on the floor. He hurried to the sofa, grabbing Madison's hand to inspect it frantically. "Where did it burn you? How bad is it?" Madison squeezed out tears, pointing to a faint pink spot on the back of her hand. "Just a few drops, but what if it leaves a scar?" Sean turned toward me as I knelt on the floor, his face darkening. "You can't even carry a container of soup without spilling it? What have you been learning here for the past five years?! Madison has delicate skin. Can't you be more careful?!" The reprimand had barely left his lips when his eyes caught the massive, raw blisters covering my forearm and the blood dripping from my hands. His voice abruptly cut off. Sean's brow knotted tight, his tone softening slightly. "Get to the garage. Ride in my car to the hospital's burn unit." Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself up and followed them down to the underground garage with my head lowered. Sean sped recklessly the entire drive. Madison sat in the passenger seat, whining about the pain in her hand every few seconds. Sean kept turning to check on her, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. As the car blew through an intersection, a heavy SUV running a red light at high speed slammed broadside into our vehicle. A deafening crash tore through the air as the car door caved violently inward. Sitting in the back, the massive impact slammed me violently against the deformed steel pillar. The distinct, sickening snap of ribs echoed in my ears, accompanied by tearing pain in my abdomen. Blood gushed from my forehead and the corner of my mouth, quickly soaking through my shirt. Trembling violently, I lay pinned beneath the seat, struggling to open my eyes through the veil of blood. The front airbags had deployed. Sean kicked the door open, frantically pulling an unconscious Madison from the passenger seat. The wail of ambulance sirens grew louder. Paramedics rushed over with stretchers. Taking one look inside, a medic shouted urgently to Sean: "Sir, the woman in front only has a mild concussion and shock! The passenger in the back is hemorrhaging heavily, has multiple fractures, and her pupils are dilating! We have to get her to trauma right now!" Sean shielded Madison desperately in his arms, his eyes bloodshot as he screamed back at the crew: "Save Madison first! You have to take Madison to the hospital first!" Those were the very last words I heard before slipping into endless darkness.