That’s Your 100th Mistress, Time to Leave You
In five years of our marriage, my husband, Vincent Blackthorne had taken ninety-nine mistresses home.
At our anniversary party, he allowed the hundredth one to get me drunk.
I’m allergic to alcohol. I ended up in the hospital with anaphylactic shock. And still, he said to me, “Stop playing weak, Andrea. Sable’s craving barbecue ribs. Drag your pathetic weak self home and make them.”
Then came the warehouse fire. He didn’t hesitate for a second—he carried his mistress out, leaving me behind.
The flames swallowed my cries for help. My right leg was permanently damaged in the fire.
When I woke up in the hospital, he was pressing the doctor to graft skin on Sable’s arm, which had only been scraped in the commotion.
Something inside me finally died. “Vincent, I want a divorce.”
“Divorce? How dare you bring that up? You don’t care about your brother’s life anymore?” He scoffed. “Doesn’t your precious little brother still need his medical treatments?”
His mistress burst out laughing. She even started a betting pool in their private chat group.
[Come on, place your bets! How long will Andrea last this time after filing for divorce? One day? Or forever?]
Without missing a beat, Vincent placed his bet—one day—and threw in ten million.
I quietly bet one dollar on forever.
Ignoring their ridicule and sneers flooding the chat, I left the group. Then, I made a call—to Vincent’s greatest rival.
“Damian. I’m getting a divorce. You once said you’d take me away if I asked. Does that offer still stand?”
“Of course it does! Where are you? I’ll come get you right now!”
“No rush. I’ve got a few loose ends to tie up. Let’s meet in a month.”
After hanging up, I headed straight for the law office.
“Mr. Welch, I need you to draft two agreements for me: one divorce agreement and one for the transfer of shares.”
Welch hesitated. “Does Mr. Blackthorne know you’re divorcing him?”
I touched the bandage on my arm, still seeping blood. “He will.”
One month later, the divorce agreement takes effect. I packed my bags. Leave completely.And blocked his number.
I once chose blind love and marriage.
This time—I’m choosing me.
——
In five years of our marriage, my husband, Vincent Blackthorne had taken ninety-nine mistresses home.
At our anniversary party, he allowed the hundredth one to get me drunk.
I’m allergic to alcohol. I ended up in the hospital with anaphylactic shock. And still, he said to me, “Stop playing weak, Andrea. Sable’s craving barbecue ribs. Drag your pathetic weak self home and make them.”
Then came the warehouse fire. He didn’t hesitate for a second—he carried his mistress out, leaving me behind.
The flames swallowed my cries for help. My right leg was permanently damaged in the fire.
When I woke up in the hospital, he was pressing the doctor to graft skin on Sable’s arm, which had only been scraped in the commotion.
Something inside me finally died. “Vincent, I want a divorce.”
“Divorce? How dare you bring that up? You don’t care about your brother’s life anymore?” He scoffed. “Doesn’t your precious little brother still need his medical treatments?”
His mistress burst out laughing. She even started a betting pool in their private chat group.
[Come on, place your bets! How long will Andrea last this time after filing for divorce? One day? Or forever?]
Without missing a beat, Vincent placed his bet—one day—and threw in ten million.
I quietly bet one dollar on forever.
Ignoring their ridicule and sneers flooding the chat, I left the group. Then, I made a call—to Vincent’s greatest rival.
“Damian. I’m getting a divorce. You once said you’d take me away if I asked. Does that offer still stand?”
“Of course it does! Where are you? I’ll come get you right now!”
“No rush. I’ve got a few loose ends to tie up. Let’s meet in a month.”
After hanging up, I headed straight for the law office.
“Mr. Welch, I need you to draft two agreements for me: one divorce agreement and one for the transfer of shares.”
Welch hesitated. “Does Mr. Blackthorne know you’re divorcing him?”
I touched the bandage on my arm, still seeping blood. “He will.”
For now, he was probably busy with Sable Frost.
That afternoon, Vincent and I arrived home one after another.
Noticing the cold stove, his face darkened. “Didn’t I tell you Sable wants tiramisu? Why you haven’t made yet?”
I ignored his accusations and calmly took my seat.
His voice turned sharp. “Andrea, are you trying to piss me off? Don’t push your luck, or I’ll—”
“Cut off my brother’s medical expenses?” I finished for him, my eyes cold and steady. “Go ahead.”
I’d heard those threats more times than I could count.
For years, I’d bent over backwards to please him—all for my brother’s sake.
He made me watch him fawn over his lovers and clean up after their affairs.
He forced me to act as a live target while his mistresses practiced shooting—without protective gear.
He had me drive through thunderstorms, for hours, just to deliver hot soup to some woman.
But I’m still human. I’ve had enough of this humiliation.
I pulled out the documents from my bag.
“Two papers. Sign them.”
Vincent’s face dropped. He’d never seen me like this before. He was about to read them when his phone rang. He didn’t even bother to step away. He answered right in front of me.
Sable’s sweet voice came through.
“Vincent, why aren’t you back yet? My arm… It hurts again…”
Vincent softened instantly. “I’m coming, sweetheart,” he said, turning to leave.
I grabbed his wrist. “Sign first.”
Annoyed, he glared at me. “Didn’t you heard her? Sable needs me. Why are you always making things harder?”
With clear impatience, he snatched the pen, flipped to the last page and signed.
As I stared at his rushed, scrawled signature, my chest tightened.
If he’d even glanced at the document, he would’ve realized it was the divorce papers.
But he didn’t.
He stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The chime hanging by the entryway jingled softly with his departure.
I sat there for a moment, frozen.
The wind chime. It was my half-sister—Isolde Leighton’s favorite. She and Vincent had been childhood sweethearts. But five years ago, she was killed in a car accident.
The Leighton Family couldn’t bear to lose their engagement ties with the Blackthornes, so they forced me into Vincent’s room.
I’d never forget the look in Vincent’s eyes that night—pure disgust and hostility.
“You think pulling a dirty stunt like this will make you Mrs. Blackthorne? Dream on. I’ll never let that happen!”
But when the so-called "scandal" was exposed, my father broke down in tears and demanded Vincent take responsibility—or face public disgrace.
Old Mr. Blackthorne couldn’t risk the family’s reputation. So, they made us marry.
I knew Vincent didn’t love me. But I married him anyway—because I loved him. I told myself if I tried hard enough, maybe one day I’d warm his frozen heart.
But on our wedding night, he brought home a woman who bore a striking resemblance to my sister.
That was only the beginning.
I made a deal with myself—when he brought home the hundredth woman, I would leave.
Sable was the hundredth. And she looked more like Isolde than anyone before her.
Chapter 2
“Hey, look! Isn’t that Mr. Blackthorne and Miss Frost?” one of the maids suddenly gasped.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I glanced at my phone. A blogger was doing random street interviews under a ‘time capsule’ theme—and just by chance, they’d interviewed Vincent and Sable.
Vincent wore his usual blank expression, clearly uninterested. But Sable was excited, practically glowing with enthusiasm. Vincent humored her, playing the doting boyfriend.
The blogger read their random question aloud:
“If you could go back five years, what would you do?”
Sable frowned, pretending to struggle for an answer.
Vincent pulled her closer, his voice dangerously soft, but his words sharp as knives.
“I would have killed anyone who tried to approach me with ulterior motives... and made sure I met Sable, much sooner.”
The tenderness was for Sable. She leaned into him, glowing with happiness.
While the cruelty was for me.
My grip on the phone tightened, my heart sinking. He still hated me this much. But I didn’t care anymore.
I printed Sable’s picture, slid it into the album of his mistresses and wrote: 100. Goodbye. I locked it away in the study drawer, along with the signed divorce papers.
A parting gift for Vincent. He’d like it.
After that, I quietly began packing my things.
When Vincent and Sable returned, I had just tossed a woven blanket into the trash bin.
“What are you doing?” Vincent asked.
My body stiffened slightly. “Sort thing out where it belong to garbage,” I said flatly.
He walked over and saw the bin full of handmade crafts I’d once made for him, along with several expensive dresses he’d given me.
“You never even wore these dresses. How are they garbage?” he frowned.
Without stopping my hands, I replied calmly, “Some things just aren’t meant to fit. No point forcing it.”
Like people. After five years, I had finally seen things clearly.
Vincent seemed to sense the underlying meaning behind my words, his frown deepening.
Before he could say anything, Sable clung to his arm and pouted. “Vincent, I’m tired. Can I sleep in that room tonight?” She pointed at the master bedroom.
Vincent pressed his lips together. “Sable just had skin graft surgery. She’s uncomfortable at night. It’ll be easier for me to take care of her if she sleeps in the master bedroom.”
I raised my eyes and met Sable’s deliberately provocative gaze.
She was challenging me.
After all, the master bedroom was my last stronghold.
In the past, I would throw a fit every time he tried to let one of his women stay there. But now… I didn’t care anymore.
I simply nodded. “Alright. I’ll go pack up my things.”
The master bedroom was filled with memories I had poured my heart into. It took me an entire afternoon to clear it out.
When Vincent saw the empty room, his expression grew strange.
“Sable’s only staying temporarily. Once she’s better, she’ll move out. Why pack everything so thoroughly?”
“I’d rather replace things when the time comes than cling to the old,” I answered smoothly.
Vincent stared at me suspiciously. “Andrea, you’re not acting like yourself. What are you plotting?”
I said nothing.
Just then, Sable let out a little gasp. “Wow, this bracelet is gorgeous!”
I looked up sharply and saw her holding a pale pink agate bracelet from my vanity.
My chest tightened. I quickly strode over. “Give it back.”
Chapter 3
Sable turned to Vincent with wide, innocent eyes. “Vincent, I really like this one.”
Before Vincent could respond, I cut in firmly, “That’s mine.”
My tone was sharp and Vincent’s face darkened.
“It’s just a stupid bracelet. She’s giving you some face by even liking it. Stop making a scene,” he snapped.
I was fuming. “That bracelet was my mother’s!”
I was an illegitimate child, raised secretly in the countryside with my younger brother. My foster mother was poor. That bracelet was a gift she saved up for months to buy me for my coming-of-age.
Vincent knew that.
His brows furrowed; he hesitated as he glanced at Sable.
Sable, ever the manipulator, quickly played innocent. “I’m so sorry, Andrea. I didn’t realize it was that important to you. Here, I’ll give it back.”
She reached out, but as she did, her fingers conveniently slipped.
The bracelet fell to the floor and shattered into pieces.
My outstretched hand froze mid-air, as I watched the last thing my mother ever gave me break beyond repair.
The tears came before I could stop them, but I swallowed my sobs and slapped her across the face.
Sable stumbled back in shock, hitting her head on the dresser, a bruise immediately forming on her forehead.
Vincent exploded. He slapped me so hard I fell to the ground, my ears ringing. My hand landed in the broken shards, instantly drawing blood.
Sable burst into tears, wailing, “Vincent, my face! Am I going to be disfigured?”
Her face—so much like my sister’s—only fueled his fury.
Vincent scooped her up protectively. “It’s okay, Sweetheart. I’ll take you to the hospital.”
He stormed out so fast that he knocked over the decor by the cabinet. A plaster statue crashed down, landing squarely on my head, blood gushing down my face.
But he didn’t even glance back.
I was used to this. Calmly, I pulled out my phone and called for an ambulance.
When I woke up, Vincent was sitting by my hospital bed, face like stone.
Usually, he would be screaming at me by now.
Instead, he glanced at me coldly and said, “Tomorrow, we’re going to Emerald Island. You used to train for mermaid shows, didn’t you? Sable’s willing to forgive you if you perform for her. Consider it your apology.”
I had learned mermaid performances because Vincent loved watching underwater shows. I wanted to be closer to him.
I had even secretly rented an entire aquarium for his birthday, just to surprise him.
But the moment he saw me in that tank, the revulsion in his eyes was searing.
He ordered the guards to rip off my oxygen mask, leaving me trapped underwater for nearly an hour.
I blacked out from oxygen deprivation before he finally let me out.
Since then, I’ve been terrified of water.
“I’m not going,” I said instinctively.
He didn’t even bother to argue.
The next morning, he had me forcibly dragged onto a helicopter.
As the rotors lifted us into the sky, my stomach twisted into knots.
The sea surrounding Emerald Island sparkled under the sun, stretching endlessly into the horizon. To anyone else, it was paradise.
But as I stared at the waves gently rising and falling, all I felt was a suffocating dread tightening around my chest.
The moment we landed, I broke into a run, sprinting toward the far edge of the island.
Strangely, he didn’t come after me.
A surge of unease crawled up my spine.
Suddenly, the clear blue sky darkened.
The bright sunshine vanished as thick storm clouds rolled in.
The wind howled and I knew a storm was coming fast.
Panicked, I called him.
“Where are you? Where am I supposed to stay tonight?”
He chuckled coldly on the other end.
“After everything you’ve done, you still expect me to give you shelter? You really do live in a fantasy world.”
My anxiety spiked. “What do you mean?”
The wind picked up sharply, but his voice was even colder. “We’re taking the chopper back. The signal here will be cut soon. If you want to survive, figure it out yourself.”
The line went dead, his words slicing through me like knives.
Clutching my jacket tighter around me, I heard the first rumble of thunder in the distance.
And then it started.
Large raindrops pelted down, the horizon disappearing as the sea grew wild and angry.
My eyes widened in terror.
I turned and ran in the opposite direction.
Thunder cracked, wind roared, waves swelled like monsters and crashed down on me.
The churning sea swallowed me whole.
My screams were drowned out by the violent water.
Lightning slashed through the sky, illuminating everything for a brief, terrifying moment.
As my consciousness slipped away, I saw them—
In that flicker of light, my adoptive parents smiled at me gently.
“Sweetheart, your birth father has been looking for you. Do you want to go home with him?”
No.
If this was the price of being a Leighton, I’d rather stay in that quiet little mountain village forever.
I didn’t want blood ties.
I didn’t want to know Vincent.
Chapter 4
The sharp smell of disinfectant pulled me back to consciousness.
I opened my eyes to a stark white ceiling, machines beeping steadily beside me.
Sable’s voice was the first thing I heard. “You’ve got some nerve. Can’t believe those fishermen actually managed to pull you out alive.”
Turning my head, I saw her standing by the bed, her usual sweet act long gone. Instead, she reached out and gripped my throat, squeezing hard.
“Why won’t you just die, Andrea?! If you were dead, I could finally be Mrs. Blackthorne.”
“Can’t you see it? Vincent doesn’t love you. You’re like a stray dog clinging to a marriage you stole. Pathetic.”
“It only took one word from me for him to abandon you on that island, knowing you’re terrified of water. Do you still not get who he truly cares about?”
Her grip tightened. She wasn’t bluffing—she fully intended to choke me to death.
I couldn’t breathe. My instincts kicked in and I struggled to fight her off.
The next moment, she suddenly let go, her body stumbling backward. She knocked into a medical tray, sending instruments clattering. A sharp pair of scissors sliced across her hand, leaving a bloody gash.
Sable let out a high-pitched scream. “Andrea, why did you push me?!”
Before I could even react, Vincent walked in.
Tears welled up in Sable’s eyes immediately. “Vincent… I was just checking on Andrea and she—”
She didn’t even need to finish. The implication hung in the air like poison.
Vincent didn’t even bother asking for my side of the story. His mouth opened, ready to lash into me.
But when he noticed how pale I looked, for once, he held his tongue. Instead, he scooped up the bleeding Sable and rushed her out of the room.
Ten minutes later, he stormed back in, face like thunder. Without a word, he yanked me off the bed.
I stumbled. “Let go! What do you want?!”
“Sable’s condition worsened because of you. She’s bleeding heavily. You share a blood type. You’re giving her a transfusion.” His voice was low, cold.
I froze. I had never once heard of any chronic illness she had. And after barely surviving that nightmare on Emerald Island, my body could hardly handle anything more.
I struggled desperately. “I’m not doing it! Let me go!”
Vincent gripped my wrist even tighter. “You don’t get a say.”
He shoved me toward the doctors.
One of them hesitated. “But she is severely weak after everything she’s been through. Forcing a transfusion now could cause irreversible harm.”
Vincent’s face was ice. “Sable’s life comes first. Do it.”
The needle pierced my skin. My blood drained quickly, leaving my entire body aching, especially my lower abdomen.
Something warm trickled beneath me. Sticky. Hot.
It wasn’t my period.
A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. I clutched my stomach as pain overtook me and then everything went black.
When I woke up again, the doctor was sitting beside me with a solemn expression.
“Miss Leighton… I’m sorry. After the trauma your body’s been through… you lost the baby.”
I froze. “The baby?”
He nodded. “You were only about a month along. With your anemia and the great number blood loss… it couldn’t survive.”
I placed my hand over my stomach, unable to say a word.
The tiny life I hadn’t even known was there—gone.
Maybe this was fate.
Outside, loud booms suddenly filled the air, followed by a chain of explosive bursts.
Fireworks. Giant ones, painting the daytime sky with brilliant color, dazzling even in broad daylight.
A group of young nurses crowded by the window, chatting excitedly.
“Did you hear? The CEO of Blackthorne threw this fireworks show to celebrate his wife’s pregnancy. So romantic.”
“Ugh, if I had a husband like that, I could die happy.”
“He’s planning a huge party next week too, I heard. Whoever that Mrs. Blackthorne is so lucky!”
If I weren’t Mrs. Blackthorne myself, I probably would’ve swooned over such a grand romantic gesture too.
But unfortunately, I am her.
My mind drifted back to a year ago.
That night, Vincent came home drunk. He pinned me under him without protection. The next morning, he shoved a handful of pills into my hand.
“You have no right to carry my child. Even if you ever got pregnant by accident, I’d make sure it never sees the light of day.”
And now his wish had come true.
He forced me to donate blood to his mistress and because of that, I lost my child.
Yet he lit up the whole city with fireworks to celebrate hers.
Chapter 5
I wept silently. After the IV was finished, I signed my discharge papers and went home.
Passing through the backyard, I found myself standing beneath the wisteria tree. Its blooms were in full glory. Without realizing it, I sat beneath it for hours.
By evening, Vincent returned with Sable in tow.
Spotting me under the tree, he paused.
Sable’s eyes glimmered as she said sweetly, “Vincent, this wisteria is thriving. Should we cut it down and make a good-luck charm for our baby? But… I heard Andrea planted this tree herself.”
She paused, then looked at me with fake sweetness. “Would you mind, Andrea?”
This tree was one of the few beautiful memories Vincent and I shared.
My adoptive father had planted it for my adoptive mother—it was their symbol of lifelong love.
Four years ago, I transplanted it here from my hometown, digging the hole with my own hands.
Vincent once told me it wouldn’t survive. I seized that moment to bargain with him.
“If I keep it alive and it blooms… would you consider loving me?”
He went quiet for a long time, then said, “I’ll think about it.”
It was the only sliver of hope he’d ever given me.
Since then, I’d cared for that tree more than anything else.
Once, his eighteenth mistress broke a single flower off it and I fought her like my life depended on it.
Anyone who dared suggest cutting it down would’ve faced my full wrath.
But now, facing Sable’s provocation, I smiled faintly.
“Go ahead. Cut it if you want.”
Vincent frowned, visibly displeased.
As I stood to leave, he stopped me. “You planted it,” he said coldly. “So you cut it. I don’t want you bringing this up later and blaming Sable for it.”
He wanted me to destroy my last sanctuary with my own hands.
I expected this, but my heart still trembled.
A servant handed me the chainsaw. My hands shook as I slowly severed the thick trunk.
The master bedroom. My mother’s keepsake. The baby. My faith…
Everything I had treasured was now just entertainment for Sable.
Vincent gazed at her indulgently. “Pick whichever piece you like. I’ll have it carved for you.”
Sable carefully selected a slender branch no thicker than a finger.
Vincent turned to the servants. “Clean up the rest. Throw it all in the trash.”
Trash. That’s what my love for him had amounted to.
Dropping the chainsaw, I numbly returned to my room.
That night, Damian texted me.
[A month is too long. I’m already back in the country. I’ll come get you in three days.]
I stared at the now-empty garden and typed my reply:
[Okay.]
Three days.
That was enough time to settle everything.
Chapter 6
The first day, I sold off the equity agreement Vincent had signed.
Five years of torment—this was what he owed me.
The next day, with the money in my account, I went to the nursing home to arrange my brother’s transfer.
There were far better treatments abroad. I was taking him with me.
But as soon as I arrived, I was met with chaos.
The nurse rushed over, panic written all over her face.
“Miss Leighton! Where have you been? Your brother’s condition has taken a turn for the worse!”
My heart dropped. “What? But his vitals have been stable all this time! What happened?”
The nurse couldn’t give me any clear answer.
Not long after, the doctor emerged from the ER, his face grim.
“Miss Leighton, we’ve stabilized him for now, but his situation is critical. Things could deteriorate at any moment.”
“This facility isn’t equipped for this level of emergency care. I strongly recommend transferring him to the provincial hospital immediately.”
I didn’t hesitate for a second.
An ambulance was called and we sped down the highway toward the hospital.
We were only two blocks away when a line of luxury cars blocked the road.
The driver got out to negotiate, but came back shaking his head.
“They’ve reserved this entire stretch for a private event. They won’t let us through.”
What could possibly be more important than a life hanging by a thread?
I threw open the ambulance door and got out. That’s when I saw them—Vincent, leaning casually against his car, one arm wrapped around Sable.
At that moment, the massive LED display on one of the cars lit up:
‘Happy 24th Birthday, Sable Frost.’
A birthday celebration.
They blocked an emergency route—for a birthday party.
Rage boiled inside me.
“Vincent! Move the cars! We need to get through to the hospital!”
He looked over lazily. “You just got discharged. Instead of going home to cook some soup for Sable, you’re running off to the hospital? What for?”
“My brother!” I snapped, my voice trembling with urgency. “His condition worsened. I need to get him to the hospital right now!”
My adoptive parents were long gone. My brother was all I had left in this world.
And Vincent knew that better than anyone. He hesitated.
But Sable leaned in, feigning confusion.
“Your brother? Isn’t he safe, comfortable and perfectly fine at the nursing home as we speaking?”
I was burning with frustration.
“I don’t have time for your games, Sable. This is life and death situation. Move out of the way!”
Her lips quivered as she forced tears into her voice.
“Andrea... I know you’re upset because Vincent’s been spending so much time with me lately. But how could you stoop so low? Cursing your own brother’s to death just because you’re jealous?”
Then she glanced at Vincent with an innocent look. “Vincent could easily check the truth with a quick phone call. There’s really no need to lie, is there?”
Her soft, gentle voice landed like a knife—hitting every one of Vincent’s sore spots.
Frowning, he dialed a call.
After a short conversation, the hesitation on his face vanished entirely.
Just then, the medical equipment inside the ambulance started beeping wildly.
“Miss Leighton, we’re losing him!” the nurse cried out. “We need to move NOW!”
My palms were soaked in sweat as I pleaded, “Vincent, I’m begging you! Please let us through!”
But Vincent only sneered. “I just called. Your brother’s at the nursing home, perfectly fine. I really didn’t expect you to sink this low, Andrea. How much did you pay that actor inside the ambulance? You’re just jealous of Sable’s pregnancy, so you picked today of all days to pull this stunt and ruin her birthday.”
The machines inside shrieked louder. But he was too caught up in his own delusions to see the truth.
Moments later, one long flatline rang out from inside the ambulance. Chaos erupted as the paramedics rushed to resuscitate him.
The doctor soon came out, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry, Miss Leighton. We were too late.”
My whole body trembled. The tears wouldn’t stop falling.
“Vincent…” My voice cracked. “You’ve finally done it. For Sable, you killed the last family I had left. Are you happy now?!”
For a brief moment, seeing my devastation, doubt flickered across his face.
He opened his mouth to say something when Sable handed him her phone.
“Vincent, I was worried I might be wrong, so I called the nurse earlier. Look—they’re taking good care of her brother.”
She showed him a photo of my brother, perfectly fine, being wiped down in his hospital bed.
The perfect cover.
Whatever doubt Vincent had vanished in an instant. Disgust twisted across his face.
“Such an amazing actress. What a waste not going into show business.”
“Today’s Sable’s birthday. So I won’t deal with your nonsense now. But tomorrow, we’ll finish this.”
With that, he pulled Sable close and walked away without a second glance.
I crumbled beside my brother’s cooling body, sobbing helplessly.
Chapter 7
The crematorium was cold and empty. I sat there the whole night, staring blankly at nothing.
On the third day, I officially signed away my legal identity and brought my brother’s ashes back home.
The moment I stepped through the door, Vincent was already waiting. His voice was sharp, irritated.
“Why didn’t you answer my calls last night? Do you have any idea how upset Sable was? You completely ruined her birthday.”
I kept my voice calm. “I was at the crematorium. Waiting for my brother.”
He let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Always the lies with you. What are you gonna say next? That what you’re holding is really his urn?”
I said nothing. There was no point trying to defend myself. He never believed me anyway.
Vincent waved his hand like he couldn’t be bothered. “Forget it. Sable didn’t sleep well last night. You owe her.”
Sable’s eyes lit up instantly. “Andrea, why don’t you make it up to me by giving me a birthday present? That ring you’re wearing would be perfect.”
My wedding ring. The Blackthorne Family heirloom Vincent had put on my finger. Out of everything he’d ever given me, it was the only thing that ever felt meaningful.
I raised my gaze and looked Vincent dead in the eye. “Is that what you want too, Vincent?”
For a brief moment, I saw hesitation flicker across his face.
Sable dropped her gaze, playing the innocent victim.
“It’s okay, Andrea. If you don’t want to give it to me, I understand. It’s just a birthday gift anyway. I don’t really need it.”
Her pitiful act worked like a charm. Vincent’s face hardened.
“If she wants it, give it to her. Don’t make me take it off you myself.”
Before I could react, Sable jumped up and reached for my hand. In the struggle, the urn slipped from my grip.
The porcelain shattered as it hit the floor, sending my brother’s ashes scattering across the hardwood.
My heart clenched. I dropped to my knees, frantically trying to gather what little I could.
And then, just as I reached out, a gust of wind blew through the hall, sending the ashes flying in every direction.
“No… please, no…” My voice broke as my eyes welled up with tears.
Vincent stood there, finally seeming to grasp something wasn’t right. “Andrea, you—”
But Sable cut him off immediately. “I’m so sorry, Andrea! I didn’t mean to!” she said sweetly, though her foot intentionally crushed one of the remaining bone fragments as she kept trying to snatch the ring from my hand.
I shoved her away, my voice shaking with rage. “Get away from me!”
She stumbled backward, landing hard on her backside. The next second, her fake sobs filled the air.
“Andrea… you know I’m pregnant. How could you push me like that? Do you hate this baby so much?”
Vincent immediately wrapped his arms around her.
“Andrea! She just wanted the ring, for God’s sake! Why would you get so aggressive?”
Tears were pouring down my face. Something inside me finally snapped.
“You will pay for this!” I screamed, my voice breaking. “One day, you’ll both pay for everything you’ve done to me!”
I had never been this furious in my entire life. My rage silenced even Vincent; Sable sat frozen, wide-eyed, as if she didn’t recognize me anymore.
But I didn’t care. I didn’t care about either of them. All I could think about was my brother. His ashes now scattered across the floor like worthless dust.
I dropped to my knees, desperately trying to salvage what little I could, my hands slicing open on the shards of broken porcelain. My blood mixed with the ashes, turning everything into a sticky, painful mess.
Vincent’s voice softened slightly, like some twisted part of him felt pity.
“If you didn’t want to give the ring, you could’ve just said so. You didn’t need to put on this act. Anyone watching might actually believe this really was your brother’s urn.”
I froze. My hands still bleeding, my chest heaving.
Even now—after everything—I still couldn’t get him to believe me.
Sable clicked her tongue, letting out a little sigh of annoyance.
“Owh, the ring’s dirty. What a shame.”
Vincent brushed her hair back, comforting her like she was some fragile princess.
“Don’t worry. I’ll buy you a new one.”
And just like that, they walked away—stepping on my brother’s ashes as if they were nothing but dirt beneath their feet.
That afternoon, Sable bombarded me with messages.
Vincent bought me dozens of rings today! All different designs, with matching necklaces and bracelets too!
He said I deserve the very best. Tonight, he’s even taking me to an auction to bid on some antique royal jewelry!
Rings… the symbol of a lifetime promise, of loyalty, of love.
But Vincent’s love? Just like these rings—cheap and mass-produced, thrown around like meaningless trinkets.
Fine. If that’s who he is, then I don’t want him anymore.
And I don’t want the filthy ring either.
I walked into the study and opened the drawer.
Inside were the photos of his one hundred mistresses and the divorce papers I’d quietly prepared long ago.
I took off the blood-stained wedding ring and placed it inside, along with my medical report—the one confirming I’d lost our child.
Once everything was in order, I gently placed what little was left of my brother’s ashes into my suitcase and headed downstairs.
I left the house key on the dining table and wiped my fingerprints from the security system.
Every trace of me in this mansion was now gone.
And then, under the cover of night, I stepped into the car waiting for me outside.
I pulled out my phone, snapped the SIM card in half, and tossed it out the window of the moving car.
The wind caught it, carrying it far into the trees.
By the time he returned… I was already gone.
