Chapter 3

A flicker of hesitation flashed in Zach's eyes. "Rena, Wendy's apartment is under renovation," he began. "The fumes are too strong, and it's bad for her health, so…" Serena felt a tightness in her chest. She had convinced herself she wouldn't care anymore, yet the suffocating pain spread through her entire body. "She can't afford a hotel?" Wendy's eyes reddened as she packed up her violin. "Please don't fight because of me. I'll leave right now." She reached for her suitcase in a fluster, but in her rush, she bumped into the corner of the table. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she clutched her chest, her breathy whimper both pained and delicate. "Are you okay? Why are you so careless? Where does it hurt? Did you bring your medicine?" Zach's voice was full of worry as he scooped her into his arms and headed upstairs. There were only two rooms upstairs—his and Serena's. "This is my house. I don't agree!" Serena stepped forward, blocking his way. The tension in the air turned suffocating. Zach's expression darkened. "Serena, Wendy isn't feeling well right now. If you want to throw a tantrum, pick a better time. And let me remind you—I bought this villa. Get that straight." Wendy's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she weakly wrapped her arms around Zach's neck, her lips nearly brushing his jaw. "Zach put me down," she pleaded. "Someone like me… How could I possibly deserve to stay here?" Zach's protective instinct flared instantly. He shoved Serena aside and carried Wendy upstairs. "I decide who belongs here," he declared. Serena stumbled back, her leg hitting the staircase railing. A sharp pain shot through her, draining the color from her face. Zach gently soothed Wendy, not sparing Serena a single glance. After making sure Wendy was settled, he went downstairs, only to find that Serena was nowhere to be seen. He called her, but she didn't pick up. He didn't think much of it. In Yellowbrook City, there were only two places she could go—here or Pauline's house in the countryside. She would throw a fit, but she would always come back. As he turned to go upstairs, something in the corner caught his eye—a small yellow charm pouch. He suddenly remembered Serena mentioning picking a wedding date before her birthday. He picked up the pouch and pulled out the red slip of paper inside. The date written on it was next Monday. He took out his phone and called his assistant, clearing his schedule for the morning. The moment he hung up, a series of transaction notifications popped up from Serena's secondary credit card—jewelry, clothes, designer bags… He opened WhatsApp and sent a text. "Ten million limit. Spend it all and come home. No staying out overnight." There was indulgence in his words, a hint of helpless spoiling. At that moment, Serena had just signed another receipt when the message popped up. Her heart felt emptier than ever. Zach had been controlling her life since she was ten. One word from him, and she would always obey. But now, the man who had once promised to be by her side forever was in the bedroom they had planned to share on their wedding night—holding another woman. Serena scoffed. "No staying out overnight?" She had no intention of coming back. Losing the mood to continue shopping, Serena grabbed her bags and headed straight to the most luxurious seven-star hotel in Yellowbrook City. She booked the penthouse suite and ordered the most expensive red wine and steak on the menu. After a long, relaxing bath, she stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, holding a glass of red wine as she gazed at the city's glittering skyline. She once thought she would never leave this place. But life had other plans. Finishing her second glass, she picked up her phone and sent a message. "Tomorrow at 10:00 am. Eastside Café. Bring the money, and I'll sign." The reply came almost instantly. "Deal!" Zarena Group was a company she and Zach had built together. When it was first established, he had given her 10% of the original shares. Just like the villa they lived in, it was meant to be something that tied them together forever. Back then, she had been ecstatic, touched by his devotion. Wanting to ease his burden, she had linked the dividend account to the company's finances. Over the years, she had never taken a single cent, reinvesting everything into the company. Now that she was leaving, she would cut all ties. Completely! Before going to bed, Zach sent another WhatsApp message. "I extended your stay at the hotel until next Monday. Rena, don't be mad anymore. I'll pick you up that morning, and we'll go to the courthouse." Serena searched through her suitcase. The charm pouch was gone. She stared at his text for a long time. Zach had personally carried Wendy into what was supposed to be their marital bed, yet he extended Serena's hotel stay as if it were nothing. And now, he was casually bringing up getting their marriage certificate, as if everything was perfectly normal. How ironic! Serena couldn't help but wonder how he still believed she would obediently marry him after all this. … At 11:30 pm, Serena woke up in pain. A searing burn spread through her stomach, like fire licking at her insides. Back when Zach first started his business, she had spent days attending one business dinner after another, fighting to secure deals and attract investors. Her only goal had been to help Zach prove himself to the Foster family. The excessive drinking had landed her in the hospital with a gastric perforation. It had taken her six months to recover. After that, Zach forbade her from getting involved in the company, insisting she stay home and be his future wife. The pain blurred her thoughts. She sat up, opened the nightstand drawer, and fumbled inside—only to find it empty. Then she remembered—this wasn't their house. This was a hotel. Her usual medication wasn't here. A fresh wave of pain tore through her abdomen, forcing her to curl into herself. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead. She had thought it would pass if she just endured it. But ten minutes went by, and it only got worse. She couldn't afford to wait any longer. Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone, about to dial 911. Just then, Zach's call came through. People had always been most likely to give in when they were vulnerable and helpless. Seeing his name on her screen, Serena felt a lump rise in her throat. Her resolve to stay strong crumbled in an instant. She answered the call and could barely lift the phone to her ear. Before she could say a word, Zach's voice came through, laced with restrained anger. "Serena, do you really hate Wendy that much? She's your best friend." Her mind went blank. She pressed a hand hard against her abdomen, her teeth chattering from the pain. "What happened to her?" Her voice was weak, barely more than a whisper. Anyone paying the slightest attention would have noticed something was off. But Zach didn't. Instead, her indifferent tone only fueled his anger. "How do you still have the nerve to ask? When did you become like this? You knew she has asthma, yet you sprayed disinfectant all over the house and left scented candles in the bathroom. Do you realize she could have suffocated? Serena bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood. A bitter, self-deprecating smile curled on her lips. The disinfectant—she had used it to wipe away any trace of herself. The scented candles—she had placed them for Zach. He had trouble sleeping, and she had spent weeks tracking down a special sleep aid formula. "Zach, I can't see the future. I didn't know you were going to let Wendy stay." The line went silent. But his heavy breathing made it clear he was still fuming. A fresh wave of pain tore through her stomach. Serena could no longer stifle the groan that escaped her lips. Her phone slipped from her trembling fingers. "What's wrong with you?" "Zach, my stomach hurts. Can you—" Before she could finish, he cut her off, his voice exhausted and impatient.