You Chose Your Mistress, I Chose Goodbye

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I'd only gone to see MirasolJimmy's step-sisterto collect a debt she owed me. That was all it had been. Yet the next day, Jimmy hurled a heavy ledger at my chest with such force it clattered to the floor, as though it carried the weight of the world.

Pick it up, he said, his voice cold as steel, the tone one reserves for something beneath contempt. "Read every page."

My hands trembled as I knelt to retrieve it. Something told me nothing good waited inside.

When I opened it, the words blurred before my eyes. It was a full accounting of everything he'd spent on me across five years together. A couture gown worth fifty thousand dollars. A rare, limited-edition car he'd once dismissed as "just a little something." Diamonds, private island trips, five-star suites, chartered yachts. Even the smallest details hadn't escaped hima shared dessert, late-night wine, flowers I'd once believed meant something more.

All documented. All priced down to the cent.

Even our nights in hotels. Even the clothes from my own closet.

My grip tightened until my knuckles ached. Was this truly all I had ever been to him?

"I'll be generous," Jimmy said, leaning back, unbothered, swirling his wine. "We'll split the hotel costs evenly. I'm not unreasonable."

Generous. The word nearly stuck in my throat.

"Subtract the fifty thousand Mirasol owes you," he continued, finally meeting my eyessharp, unfeeling"and you still owe me fifty-two million. One month. Wire it."

Fifty-two million.

My mouth opened, but nothing came at first. "Jimmy, I never asked you for any of this. You gave it to me, I never"

"Never what?" he cut in, quieter than shouting, yet somehow worse. "Never enjoyed it? Never accepted it?"

"That's not what I meant, I just" I stopped, throat tight. "I thought things were different than this."

"Then tell me how you thought they were," he pressed, his stare unrelenting. "Say it plainly, Iris. Unless you don't even remember what you believed."

I had no answer.

What had I believed? That he loved me? That every gift was affection, not debt quietly accumulating interest?

A laugh broke the silence.

"Poor Iristurns out Jimmy keeps receipts for everything," someone said, clearly amused. "Does she even understand what fifty million means?"

Another voice, sharper this time: "Of course not. She was just warming his bed and playing house. She actually thought she'd won something."

Laughter spread through the room.

My ears rang with it.

"Honestly," another man drawled, eyes dragging over me, "fifty-two million is nothing. Iris, if you keep me company tonight and do it well, I might give you sixty instead. Simple enough, isn't it?"

More laughter.

I felt myself shrinking, the air thinning until I could barely breathe.

Jimmy didn't intervene. He didn't even look irritated.

"Not my concern," he said lightly. "However she raises the money is her own business."

Something inside me cracked.

"Jimmy," I said, my voice barely audible. "I never humiliated Mirasol. She lied to you. I would never do that. Why would you think"

"Why wouldn't you?" he countered, tilting his head with something like curiosity. "Do you really want to revisit that?"

Ice spread through me.

The memories surfaced, each crueler than the last. After Mirasol returned from abroad, I'd been a few minutes late preparing her mealthe food itself had been perfectly fine. Jimmy's response was to lock me outside for three days, no food, no water. I remembered huddling on the frozen ground, trembling, wondering if I'd lose consciousness before it ended.

The second time, her tablet slipped from my hands by accident. Jimmy had someone seize me for it; my arm ended up in a cast, too painful to lift without tears.

The third time, I hadn't done anything at allI'd simply been quietly grieving. Mirasol forced me to dress up and perform in front of her friends like some spectacle. I'd nearly collapsed that night, and no one had stopped it.

All I'd wanted was the fifty thousand Mirasol begged me formoney meant for my father's treatment. She'd wept, sworn she had nowhere else to turn, promised to repay every cent. And this was the result.

Dragged in front of everyone. Degraded. Stripped of dignity.

"Iris," Jimmy said, his voice like a chain pulling tight around my throat. "Fail to pay on time, and I'll see you in court. You won't survive that."

My legs threatened to give out.

The thought of my father in that hospital bed, machines breathing for him, bills mounting like they meant to bury us both, forced a smile onto my facewrong, unnatural, as though it belonged to someone else.

I turned to the man beside Jimmy. "If I... if I keep you satisfied tonight, will you really give me the fifty-two million?"

The room stilled. Then his face lit up like he'd won something.

"Absolutely," he said, leaning in, his gaze crawling over me. "Fifty-two million is nothing. But you'll have to earn it, won't you?"

He glanced at Jimmy for confirmation.

Jimmy offered no objectionjust sat there, swirling his drink, watching me like I was furniture.

That silence was all the permission the man needed.

"Waiter," he called, snapping his fingers. "Thirty glasses. Make them strong."

My stomach dropped. Thirty.

The bottles arrived quickly, lined up before me like a sentence I couldn't escape.

"Finish every glass tonight, down to the last drop, and the money transfers immediately. No tricks. My word."

My fingers curled. Could I survive this? Did it matter anymore?

I lifted the first glass without letting myself think.

The moment it hit my throat, it burnedtore through me like it was ripping me open from within. My stomach convulsed violently; I nearly choked, tears stinging my eyes.

I forced it down anyway.

Keep going. You can't stop now.

Their laughter reached me from every side. I could feel their staresdisgust, amusement, curiosity. His most of all.

But I couldn't look at Jimmy.

So I kept drinking. Glass after glass.

My hands shook, my vision swam, cold sweat soaked through my back. Eventually I couldn't taste anything anymoreonly pain, raw and endless.

Why was I still doing this?

Because there was no other choice. Because I needed the money. Because without it, my father would

No. I couldn't finish that thought.

I drained the last glass and set it down hard. The room tilted around me, my skull throbbing like it might split.

Somehow I straightened, even as my knees threatened to buckle. I extended my hand toward the man.

"The... money," I managed, voice scraped raw. "You said you'd give it to me."

He didn't answer right away, turning to Jimmy with a smirk. "Jimmy, should I pay her? She earned it, didn't she?"

Jimmy regarded me for a moment. "Give it to her. It's only fifty-two million. Call it charity."

Charity. That word landed harder than anything else that night.

The man laughed and tossed a bank card to the floor near my feet. "There. Don't say I'm not generous."

I bent to retrieve it, fingers unsteady. I offered no thanks.

I simply turned and left as fast as my legs would carry me, nearly running.

My father. This money would finally make his surgery possible.

He would survive this. He had to.

**

By the time I reached the hospital and settled the remaining bill, my hands still hadn't stopped shaking. I hurried to find the doctor, words tumbling out unevenly.

"The payment's gone through. Pleasestart the treatment now. Please save him."

The doctor's expression shifted the instant he looked at me, and something in it made my chest seize.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Iris. Mr. Jimmy ordered that all treatment for your father be stopped. It isn't something we can override."

For a moment, I couldn't process what he'd said.

"What?" My ears rang with disbelief. "Nothat can't be right," I said quickly, shaking my head. "I just paid you. You saw the transfer come through. The money's there. Why would you stop now? He needs this surgery, he'll die without it, you can't possibly"

"I'm sorry. There's truly nothing to be done."

The floor seemed to shift beneath me. I staggered backward, my heart pounding so violently it ached.

Jimmy.

I fumbled for my phone, my fingers slipping as I dialed his number.

He answered almost immediately.

"Calling already?" His voice carried genuine amusement. "What's this about, Iris? Missing me so soon?"

"Jimmy!" My voice cracked. "Please, I'm begging you, don't do this. My father needs that treatment. I already paid, I did everything you asked, I drank every single glass, I"

"And?" he interrupted, sounding thoroughly unbothered. "He had surgery last week, didn't he? Missing one round won't kill him. Unless you're telling me your father is truly that fragile."

My knees buckled beneath me.

"Please," I whispered. "I'm on my knees for you. Don't make him pay for this. If you're angry, direct it at me instead. I'll do whatever you want, just don't"

"Of course this is punishment," he said, his tone hardening further. "This is for wounding and shaming Mirasol. Did you honestly believe you'd walk away without consequence after upsetting her?"

Silence swallowed everything.

The call disconnected.

And then

A single tone.

Then another, unbroken.

I froze. Slowly, I turned my head. The line tracing across the monitor had gone flat. It wasn't moving anymore.

"No!"

The phone slipped from my grasp and struck the floor. I lunged toward the bed, seizing my father's hand. It had already gone cold. Far too cold.

"No, no, no... Dad!" My voice shook uncontrollably. "Please wake up. I'm here now. I brought the money, everything's fine now, you're going to be okay, so please..."

He remained motionless.

"Dad..." My grip tightened, my entire body shaking. "Dad!!!" The scream tore out of me and ripped through the room. No one answered.

I lost track of how long I remained there afterward. Hours, perhaps longer. By the time morning light began filtering through the window, I was still kneeling, my eyes dry and hollow.

He was gone. The doctor approached softly and pressed a letter into my hands.

"Miss Iris... your father left this for you before the end. Please, take care of yourself."

My hands trembled as I unfolded it.

Iris, my daughter. Please run. Don't let Jimmy destroy your life.

A broken laugh escaped me, and then the tears came and wouldn't stop. Even in his final moments, he'd told me to go. To keep living.

After the funeral had been arranged, after everything had finally been settled, after nothing remained to bind me to that place any longer...

I sat staring at my phone for a long while.

Then I dialed.

"Professor Hale," I said once the call connected, my voice quiet but unwavering. "I've made up my mind."

A pause stretched on the other end.

"I want in on the research project."

I shut my eyes. Jimmy had taken everything from me. But this time, I would be the one who walked away.

Professor Hale's voice trembled the instant he recognized mine. "Iris? Is that truly you? Are you certain about this? Has your father's situation been resolved? And what about the man you love?"

I closed my eyes briefly before responding, my voice flat. "My father has passed. And I won't love that man again. Not now. Not ever."

Silence stretched for only a couple of seconds, yet it felt unbearably heavy. Then his tone gentled. "Iris... I don't know what you've endured these past five years, but the periods that hurt the most are often when we grow fastest. Your life hasn't ended. It's only beginning."

Only beginning. I exhaled slowly. Was that even possible? After everything that had happened, could I truly start fresh? Still, I answered, "Yes. I understand."

Perhaps I really had cared for Jimmy once. He was attractive, occasionally gentle with me, generous with his wealthhe'd covered my father's medical bills and given me things I'd never dared to imagine owning. So what reason did I have to feel unhappy? I used to ask myself that question often.

Until Mirasol returned.

I still remembered that particular night clearly. Jimmy had never touched alcohol before, not once in all our time together, but that night he drank as though he'd lost all restraint, and then he said itplainly, rawly. "Mirasol... I missed you so badly it drove me insane. If you weren't my step-sister, things could have been different between us."

I stood there, utterly frozen.

Later, I retrieved a photograph that had fallen to the floor. She was stunning, radiant, and bore a faint resemblance to me. That was the moment everything became clear. Between the two of us, he had never truly chosen me. I was merely her replacementsomeone he could touch freely, use without consequence, someone around whom he never needed to hold back.

From that instant onward, whatever affection I'd still carried for him withered away completely. Yet I remained. Why? Because my father was still fighting for his life in that hospital bed, because I needed Jimmy's support to keep him alive. So I played my part, silent and obedient, absorbing everything Jimmy wished to inflict but couldn't direct at Mirasol herself. I told myself it was temporarythat once my father recovered, I would leave and never glance backward again.

But in the end, all that remained of him was his body. Cold. Lifeless.

And Jimmy still had the audacity to message me: "Do you even understand what you did wrong?"

I stared at those words for a long time. Did I understand? Was my mistake simply existing in his life? Almost without thinking, I opened his social media feed. Beach, ocean, a glowing sunset, and there he was, smiling freely beside Mirasol, utterly relaxed, as though nothing had happened at all. As though my father's death carried no weight whatsoever.

My chest constricted painfully. Everything he currently possessed felt like it had been constructed on the foundation of my father's life.

I clenched my phone tightly and hailed a taxi back to the villa. I needed to pack my things and leave before I shattered completely.

The moment I stepped through the door, I found him seated on the sofa, his expression dark. "Where did you go? Why haven't you answered my messages? Do you think you can simply vanish like that?"

I said nothing and walked past him.

He rose immediately and followed me up the stairs, then shoved me hard. "Iris, you upset Mirasol, and now you're ignoring me entirely? Who exactly do you think you are, taking your frustration out on me?"

My back collided with the wall and something tore open, warm blood trickling down, but I didn't react at all. I simply looked at him. "So what?" I said quietly. "What would you like me to do this time?"

He paused, clearly caught off guard by my response.

I tilted my head slightly. "How should I apologize now? Kneel on broken stone in front of your friends? Break my other arm to match? Or perhaps drink another thirty glasses until I lose consciousness entirelywould that finally satisfy Mirasol?"

For a moment he simply stared at me. Then his expression gradually smoothed over, as though nothing at all had transpired. "Pack your things. Come back to the family estate with me. Grandfather wants to see you."

I didn't move.

He added, almost as an afterthought, "I'll give you fifty million. You know what to say and what to keep quiet about. Don't embarrass me in front of him."

A small laugh escaped me. I couldn't even say anymore what exactly I found funny.

The Ashworth family had always placed reputation and tradition above nearly everything else. I'd learned that lesson early on.

When Jimmy's grandfather discovered that his feelings toward Mirasol weren't the ordinary kind a step-brother should have, he'd shipped her overseas without so much as a conversation about it. She was simply gone, just like that.

Afterward, he'd arranged one blind date after another for Jimmy, hoping something might take root.

And somehow, in the middle of all that, Jimmy had noticed me.

Not for who I actually was.

Only because I resembled her.

That particular night remained a blur I could never fully scrub away. My drink had tasted wrong, my head had grown unbearably heavy, and the whole room had spun around me. I remembered his hands, his voice, the way I hadn't even managed to push him back properly.

One of us was searching for love.

The other was searching for money.

And somehow, out of that mismatch, this arrangement had been born.

Something ugly. Something I could never quite bring myself to name aloud.

**

The car rolled to a stop, pulling me back to the present.

The old family estate rose up before me, silent and imposing.

The instant the door swung open, Mirasol bolted straight into Jimmy's arms. "Jimmy, I missed you so much," she said, clinging to him as though she'd always belonged there.

His expression transformed instantly.

Gentle. Tender.

A version of him I'd never once witnessed.

He reached out and pinched her nose playfully. "Why are you barefoot again? What if you catch a cold? Do you even bother taking care of yourself?"

She laughed, leaning further into him. "If I do get sick, you'd have to stay by my side the whole time, wouldn't you?"

They carried on like that, teasing one another as though nothing else in the world existed.

As though they were the only two people who mattered anywhere.

I simply stood there, watching.

What did that make me, then?

The butler drew closer and dropped his voice low. "Sir, the master's health hasn't been good lately. You'd do well to tread carefully."

I understood exactly what he meant.

The last time Jimmy had visited, he'd clashed violently with his grandfather over Mirasol. It had escalated so badly that the old man had needed to be rushed to the hospital that same night.

Jimmy's brow furrowed, clearly irritated. "Why would Grandfather suddenly want to see Iris? What's this about now? More rumors making the rounds?"

Before anyone could respond, a voice drifted down from the floor above.

"Is there something happening that I'm not permitted to hear?"

I looked up.

Grandfather descended the stairs slowly, leaning on his cane yet still moving with steady purpose.

My chest tightened at the sight of him.

Without even thinking, I stepped forward to offer him support. "Careful, Grandfather," I said softly.

He glanced at me and nodded, his expression warming just slightly.

Of everyone in that house, he alone had ever treated me as though I belonged to the family.

But the moment his eyes shifted toward Jimmy and Mirasol, still standing far too close together, something shifted in his gaze.

Fury.

"What kind of behavior is this?" he snapped. "An uncle carrying on with his step-niece in front of everyone watching? Have the two of you lost every last shred of shame?"

Jimmy's expression hardened instantly, and he released Mirasol's hand, though clearly against his will.

"Why did you summon us here?" he asked, his tone flat. "What exactly do you want from Iris and me?"

Grandfather exhaled sharply, coldly. "Your marriage, obviously."

My heart stuttered.

"You've been together five years now," he continued, his voice unwavering. "It's long past time to make things official."

I went rigid.

Marriage?

"Everything has already been arranged," he pressed on, tapping his cane against the floor for emphasis. "One month from today, you and Iris will register the marriage and hold the wedding. There will be no further delays."

Silence fell over the room. Mirasol's face drained of color almost instantly.

I could barely process what I was hearing.

Marriageafter everything that had happened? Did he genuinely believe this could mend anything at all?

"No," Jimmy said abruptly, his voice sharp and final. "I won't agree to this."

The word struck like an open-handed slap. And somehow, even now, it still managed to hurt.

Grandfather didn't hold back.

His cane cracked hard against Jimmy's back. "You ungrateful child!" he thundered, his voice trembling with rage. "You were the one who insisted on being with Iris in the first place. You stood before your parents' graves and swore you'd give her a good life. So what exactly is this now?"

I kept my eyes lowered.

"You've dragged this on for years," he continued, breathing heavily. "Five years. Five entire years. How much longer do you intend to waste this girl's life?"

Five years.

I stood there in silence, but the memories surfaced regardless of whether I wanted them to.

There had been a time when things weren't like this at all.

Even someone as cold and unyielding as Jimmy used to hesitate on my account once. He used to ask for my thoughts before making decisions.

Once, I'd told him to stop hurting peoplesimply because I disliked it, nothing more calculated than that. And he'd actually spared someone who'd tried to kill him. After that incident, everyone understood he had one weakness.

Me.

When I'd run a dangerously high fever for days, barely conscious, he'd climbed into the mountains himself just to pray for my recovery. I hadn't even known until much later.

And when I'd mentioned once, offhandedly, that I loved white roses, he'd filled the entire villa garden with them.

I'd believed those gestures meant something real.

But eventually, those very same flowers had been renamed in Mirasol's honor.

Just like everything else that had once been mine.

Now Mirasol's eyes had reddened, as though tears were imminent, and Jimmy was looking at her as though the entire world could burn to ash and he wouldn't spare it a second thought.

"I won't marry Iris," he said with finality. "She isn't the one I want."

Not the one.

The words landed, though I gave no outward reaction.

He seized Mirasol's hand tightly, almost desperately, that same reckless, unhinged look I'd witnessed before flickering in his eyes. "The one I love is Mirasol. It has always been her. I won't marry anyone else in this lifetime."

The room seemed to grow colder.

"I can present Iris publicly as my fiance if that satisfies you," he added, "but I refuse to marry her."

Then, without warning, he dropped to his knees.

The sound of it echoed through the hall.

Mirasol followed immediately, kneeling beside him, her voice shaking yet resolute. "Grandfather... please. Let us be together. I'm begging you."

Grandfather looked, for a moment, as though he couldn't draw breath, his chest heaving too rapidly.

"Get out of my sight!" he finally roared, his voice trembling with fury. "Both of you. Go to the prayer hall and kneel there. Don't emerge until I say otherwise."

And with that, in full view of everyone present, the two of them rose and walked away together, hands still clasped.

As though nothing else in the world mattered.

As though I didn't exist at all.

I watched the entire scene unfold without any visible reaction.

Was I meant to cry?

Or perhaps laugh?

Honestly, I no longer knew.

Slowly, I withdrew a small wooden box from my bag. Inside rested a family heirlooman expensive sapphire pendant that Grandfather had once gifted me.

He froze the moment he spotted it. "Iris... what are you doing?"

I stepped backward and bowed deeply.

"Grandfather, thank you," I said quietly. "For looking after me these past five years. I won't forget your kindness. But... I can't remain at his side any longer."

He frowned, clearly attempting to say something, to stop me. But my mind was already made up. I set the pendant down gently and turned to leave, without hesitation, without a single backward glance.

As I passed the prayer room, a sound reached me. Heavy breathing. Hushed voices.

My steps slowed, just for an instant.

Through the narrow gap in the door, I caught sight of them.

Far too close. Far too intimate. As though nothing existed beyond the walls of that room. As though they were determined to prove somethingeven to those who had come long before either of them.

My chest constricted painfully. Then I forced my eyes away.

What reason was there left to stay?

I walked straight out of the Ashworth estate without pausing once.

That morning, I went straight to the Ashworth Group's headquarters and submitted my resignation from Jimmy's position as his secretary. No hesitation whatsoever, no second-guessing myself.

The HR manager, one of the very few people there who'd ever shown me genuine kindness, looked at me and let out a long sigh. "Iris, congratulationsyou actually got out. I mean it. You escaped something truly ugly."

I managed a faint smile. "Yeah... I suppose I did."

For the first time in longer than I could remember, I actually felt lighter, as though something heavy had finally released its grip on my chest. I no longer owed them anythingnot the money, not the suffering, not the person I'd forced myself to become just to survive.

That feeling didn't last, though.

The instant I stepped into the villa that evening, a glass shattered directly in front of me.

I flinched as fragments scattered across the floor, one piece slicing into my arm before I could even react. Jimmy stormed toward me before I'd fully processed what was happening.

His hand moved fast.

The slap cracked loudly through the room, my head snapping sideways as pain exploded across my cheek.

"Iris!" he shouted, his eyes blazing with fury. "Grandfather treated you like his own family, and this is how you repay him? You pushed him down the stairs? You tried to kill him?"

My ears rang, my face burned, but none of it registered properly.

"What?" I gasped, panic surging through me. "What are you even saying? How did Grandfather fall? What did the doctor say? Is he going to be okay?"

Before Jimmy could respond, a faint voice drifted down from above.

"Miss Halloway, the butler already confirmed it was you," Mirasol said, her voice trembling, almost pitiful. "Are you seriously going to keep pretending you're innocent, even now?"

Ice spread through my body.

"Jimmy, is this truly the woman you chose?" she added softly, as though genuinely wounded. "She did something so terrible and still refuses to admit it. She's nothing but a coward."

I stumbled backward as Jimmy shoved me hard against the wall. Pain shot through my spine, though I barely registered it.

Because I'd seen her. Mirasol.

For just an instant, her eyes met mine, and she smiledsmall, satisfied, knowing.

A chill crawled across my scalp. I didn't need a second to understand. She'd done it. She'd pushed Grandfather down those stairs. And now she was pinning it on me.

Before I could utter a word, my phone rang sharply. Jimmy snatched it up, and the butler's voice came through, frantic and urgent. "Sir, the master just suffered a massive hemorrhage! The hospital's blood supply is running critically low, we may not have enough"

I couldn't process the rest of it. Because Mirasol spoke again, as though something had just occurred to her.

"Jimmy, Iris's blood type matches Grandfather's, doesn't it?" she said quietly.

My stomach dropped straight through the floor.

A cold dread crept up from my feet and wrapped itself around my chest.

No...

Everything descended into chaos in the next instant. Hands seized me. I fought back, but it made no difference. I was dragged out, forced into a car, and driven directly to the hospital.

Before I could even grasp what was unfolding, I found myself strapped down in the emergency room.

"Hold her steady," someone ordered.

Cold restraints tightened around my wrists. A needle pierced my vein.

"Draw her blood," Jimmy's voice came through, cold and absolute. "As long as it saves Grandfather, I don't care what becomes of her. Even if it kills her."

Something in my chest clenched painfully.

I turned my head, staring at him through vision already going blurry. "Jimmy..." My voice trembled. "Even without you saying anything, I would have given blood for Grandfather willingly. You didn't need to do this. You didn't need to restrain me like some criminal..."

My throat tightened further.

"But I never pushed him," I forced out. "I swear to you, I didn't do it. You can't simply decide that and treat me this way. You can't strip away what little dignity I still have."

He let out a cold, humorless laugh.

"Still lying, are we?" His eyes were full of contempt. "Grandfather treated you so generously, and this is your gratitude? Iris, you truly have no shame left."

"I didn't do"

"Enough," he cut me off harshly. "You'd better pray he survives. Because if anything happens to him, you'll pay for it in blood."

In blood.

The phrase echoed relentlessly in my mind. Anger, pain, fearsomething inside me fractured quietly, completely.

I could feel my blood draining away, drop by drop. My fingers grew cold, my vision dimming at the edges.

Was this what it felt likehaving no way out, with no one willing to believe you? A single tear slid down my face.

Dad...

Did it hurt like this for you, lying there alone, needing help that never arrived?

My breathing grew shallow, my thoughts drifting further away. For a moment, I thought I heard his voice.

Gentle.

Calling my name.

Dad, are you here? Have you come to bring me with you?

**

I drifted into a long dream.

In it, Mirasol hadn't returned yet, and everything unfolded differently. Jimmy and I were simply together, like any ordinary coupleno tension, no fear woven through every moment. He'd introduce me to his friends without a trace of hesitation, his arm always settled around my waist as though he were proud to have me there, as though I truly belonged.

He'd even accompanied me to the hospital to visit my father. He would sit beside the bed and talk with him, trying earnestly to earn his approval. I still remembered how awkward he sometimes looked, unsure of what to say, yet trying regardless.

"Sir, I'll take care of Iris," he'd said once, with real sincerity. "You don't need to worry about her."

Back then, I'd believed every word.

I'd genuinely thought we had a future together.

He'd given me so many firststhe first time I'd felt truly wanted, the first time I'd felt like maybe I wasn't entirely alone in the world. I clung to those memories as though they were solid, real things.

Then, without warning

Freezing water crashed down over my head.

I gasped, my entire body convulsing as the icy liquid soaked straight through my clothes, biting into my skin like blades. The cold was so severe it felt almost like being cut.

My eyes flew open.

The dream shattered instantly.

Reality crashed back all at once.

Jimmy sat before me, positioned high above like he was surveying something worthless. His eyes remained cold, utterly detached.

"You should be grateful," he said flatly. "Grandfather pulled through. If anything had happened to him, you wouldn't even be alive right now. You'd have died right there on the operating table."

My body went rigid.

Before I could even absorb that, he continued, "Until he regains consciousness, you'll remain here. Reflect on what you've done. And stay ready in case he needs more blood."

Reflect?

My mind went completely blank.

Then it dawned on me exactly where I was.

This place...

Goosebumps rose across my skin.

I recognized this room. It was where Jimmy dealt with people who'd crossed him. I'd heard the whispers, the rumors circulating for years. People didn't emerge the same afterwardif they emerged at all.

No windows anywhere. No light. The air hung thick and heavy, saturated with something I refused to name.

Blood.

I remembered once, laughing, asking him, "What if we ever became enemies someday? Would you throw me in here too?"

He'd looked at me then, uncharacteristically serious. "No. That will never happen. We'll never become enemies."

I almost laughed at the memory now.

Look at me.

Standing right in the center of his personal hell.

All because of a lie that hadn't even bothered concealing its own cracks.

Something inside my chest twisted slowly, agonizingly.

"I didn't push Grandfather," I said, forcing each word out deliberately. "I didn't do it. I'm not lying. I've done nothing wrong, so I refuse to stay here reflecting on something I never did."

I tried to rise to my feet.

My body refused to cooperate.

It felt like I was disintegrating, every part of me too depleted to hold together properly. My legs trembled and gave way before I could even fully stand.

Jimmy let out a low, contemptuous scoff.

"Iris, you really are something else," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Still playing the victim. Still performing innocence. I won't believe a single word out of your mouth ever again."

Ever again.

He turned and walked out. The door slammed shut behind him.

Then darkness swallowed everything whole. I couldn't see a single thing, couldn't hear anything beyond the sound of my own ragged breathing.

It came on fast. Far too fast.

No... not this again...

My chest constricted, panic climbing up through me as though it meant to strangle me from within.

I'd always despised thissmall, enclosed spaces. Ever since childhood, it had felt as though the walls themselves might press inward, as though the air would simply vanish, leaving me to suffocate with no one even aware it was happening.

I used to tell him that once.

"I hate the dark," I'd said. "Wherever I end up living, I want it lit constantly, no exceptions."

Back then, he'd actually taken it to heart. The villa remained illuminated every night without fail. I'd believed that meant something real.

But now...

I drew myself into a tight ball, my fingers digging into my own arms as I fought to steady my breathing.

"Calm down... just breathe..." I whispered to myself. "You're okay... you're okay..."

I wasn't, though. Not even close.

Suddenly the door groaned open and a sliver of light spilled through. I flinched, squinting as a figure entered the room.

Mirasol.

She gazed down at me, her lips curving into a slight, cruel smile.

"Wow," she said, dripping with contempt. "You genuinely look pathetic right now."

I offered no response.

"If you didn't happen to resemble me somewhat," she continued, stepping closer, "Jimmy wouldn't have glanced your way even once. Did you honestly believe you ever mattered to him?"

My fingers curled into fists.

"But no matter," she said lightly, as though she'd just settled something in her mind. "Once I've ruined that face of yours, you won't be able to deceive him any longer."

My heart plummeted.

She withdrew a small knife, its blade catching the light briefly. Then she began advancing toward me.

Slowly. Deliberately.

Her eyes held something ugly within themjealousy, hatred, something twisted beyond recognition.

"Let's find out how long you can keep up this act after tonight," she murmured.

My body reacted before my mind could catch up. I threw my hand up defensively, my eyes stinging, my heart hammering wildly against my ribs.

This was really happening. This was it.

"Iris!"

A voice erupted suddenly from the doorway.

An instant later, something collided with me at full force.

I was thrown to the ground, my forehead striking the sharp edge of the wall. Pain detonated instantly, whiting out my vision for a moment. Before I could even process it, my body crashed backward into something.

A skeleton.

I heard it crack beneath me, bones snapping with a dry, sickening sound that froze my entire body in place. But what followed was far worse.

Mirasol suddenly screamed and plunged the knife straight into her own left shoulder. I stared at her, my mind emptying completely.

Blood spread rapidly, soaking through her clothing as she crumpled to the floor.

"Iris..." she cried out weakly, her voice quivering as though she were the wronged party. "I came here to help you! I only w-wanted to save you... w-why would you try to kill me..."

My stomach dropped straight through the floor.

"No... I never"

I wanted desperately to explain myself. I needed to. But Jimmy wouldn't even spare me a glance.

He rushed straight past me to her side, his expression consumed by a panic I'd never once witnessed from him. "Mirasol!" he shouted. "Stay with me. Don't you dare close your eyes. I'm getting you to the hospital right now!"

He lifted her as though she were something impossibly delicate, something irreplaceable. As though she were the whole of his existence.

I remained there on the ground.

Not a single person spared me even a glance.

Chaos erupted the moment we reached the hospital. Jimmy summoned every top physician he could reach. The corridor filled with people rushing in every direction.

His white shirt had soaked through with blood, his hands trembling uncontrollably, his arm scraped raw and bleeding from where he'd forced open some rusted gate earlier.

He looked utterly shattered. I'd never once seen him in such a state.

Never for my sake, though.

"Get out!" he suddenly barked at those attempting to console him, his voice sharp with fury. "All of youjust leave me be!"

No one dared utter another word after that.

Then he did something I never would have anticipated.

He sank to his knees beside the window.

"I'm begging you," he said hoarsely, head bowed low. "If anything happens to Mirasol, I won't go on living either. I mean every word of that."

I stood there watching. That was the moment I truly understood how deep it ran.

The operating room doors burst open suddenly.

"The patient is hemorrhaging too heavily," a nurse announced urgently. "The blood bank doesn't have sufficient supply right now"

"Take mine," Jimmy interrupted immediately, already rolling back his sleeve. "Draw from me. We share the same type. Use however much you need."

"Have you completely lost your mind?" one of his friends grabbed his arm, visibly stunned. "She's just a woman. Even if you love her, this isn't worth gambling your own life over!"

Jimmy turned to face them, his eyes cold and unwavering. "Mirasol is the person I love above everyone else. She is my entire life. Without her, I have nothing left."

Something in my chest constricted painfully. So that was what love looked like, according to him.

The surgery stretched on for a full day and night.

Mirasol pulled through.

Even after losing a considerable amount of blood himself, Jimmy appeared entirely indifferent to his own condition. He cleared out an entire floor of the hospital, redirected every physician's attention solely onto her, and remained at her bedside without pause.

Everyone spoke of the two of them afterwardhow profound their love must be, how rare something like that truly was.

I simply stood by in silence. And somehow, inevitably, I thought of my father. How he'd lain there entirely alone. How no one had fought for him the way Jimmy fought for her. How effortlessly someone else's fate could be decidedwhether they lived or whether they didn't.

Life and death, it turned out, really did hinge on whose heart you occupied.

Funny, isn't it.

Mirasol remained hospitalized for half a month, and Jimmy stayed by her side throughout the entirety of it.

He didn't leave her, not even once.

During those two weeks, I gathered every last belonging I owned and walked out of the villa for good.

Five years.

Erased, just like that.

I rented a modest apartment with what little money remained to me and returned to my old part-time shifts at the bar where I'd once worked.

Only two more weeks.

I simply had to endure two more weeks before I could officially begin at the National Research Institute.

That's what I kept telling myself. Though I hadn't expected to cross paths with him again so soon.

That particular night, the bar was packed wall to wall.

Jimmy had reserved the entire venue to celebrate Mirasol's discharge from the hospital.

Dim lighting, music blaring, people crowded everywhere.

And right there, at the very center of it all

The two of them.

He remained close beside Mirasol throughout the night, his focus never straying from her. His friends had gathered around her as well, laughing, chatting, treating her like something precious and rare.

I wanted nothing more to do with any of them.

So I texted my manager and requested the rest of the night off.

I only wanted to slip out quietly.

But

"Iris."

Her voice halted me mid-step.

I froze in place.

Mirasol approached slowly, her eyes still faintly red, as though she'd recently been crying. "After everything you put me through... you're not even going to offer an apology?" she said softly. "You're simply going to walk away like this?"

I turned to look at her.

Then I answered evenly, "I've already told you. I did nothing wrong. Keep spreading lies about me, and I'll take you to court for defamation."

Her expression hardened.

I turned to leave.

But before I'd managed more than a few steps, someone blocked my path. Jimmy's bodyguards.

"STOP!"

My chest constricted painfully.

Then something cold cascaded over my head. Strong liquor soaked straight through my clothing, streaming down my face, my neck, over every inch of me.

**

The music cut off so abruptly it felt like something had snapped in half. One moment it was loud and chaotic, and the next, dead silence descended. Every face in the room turned toward menot shocked, not confused, simply watching, as though anticipating something entertaining.

"You honestly believed you'd walk away after what you did?" someone laughed. "Iris, I had no idea you were capable of such cruelty."

"First Grandfather, now Mirasol," another voice chimed in. "What's next? Poisoning Jimmy too so you can keep him tethered to you forever?"

I didn't respond. I simply looked at him. Jimmy stood there, his face drained pale from exhaustion, yet his eyes remained sharp and cold as blades. "I've already told you," I said, my voice heavy with fatigue. "I never hurt Grandfather. And I never touched Mirasol." Even I recognized how weak that sounded. What proof did I actually have? The cameras were disabled, witnesses had been paid off, and he'd already convicted me in his own mind.

"I swear it," I forced out, "I never stabbed you. If I'm lying, may I suffer the worst death imaginable." I paused, then fixed my gaze on her directly. "But you, Mirasolcan you swear the same thing? Can you swear you didn't orchestrate all of this yourself?"

"Enough!" Jimmy cut me off sharply, stepping in front of her as though shielding her from something contaminated. "Iris, even now you refuse to confess? You still believe yourself innocent?" His voice dropped even colder. "Fine. Don't blame me for whatever follows. You brought this entirely on yourself."

Hands seized me before I could react. My knees hit the floor hard, pain shooting straight up my legs. I fought against them, panic surging. "Let go of me... what are you doing..." but no one paid any attention. Jimmy picked up a whip and approached me slowly, as though this outcome had already been decided long before tonight.

"Frightened?" he asked quietly. "Did you ever once consider how desperate Grandfather must have felt as he fell? Or how terrified Mirasol was while you attacked her?"

"I never"

The whip struck.

Pain detonated across my back, stealing my breath entirely. My body jerked violently, a broken sound tearing from my throat.

"Speak," he said, his voice climbing. "Admit what you did."

"I... won't..." My voice shook uncontrollably. "I won't admit to it..."

He laughed, anger bleeding into the sound now. "Still denying it? You think silence erases what happened? Iris, you're guilty of sin, and you deserve exactly this."

Another strike followed. Then another. The sound echoed through the room, mingling with quiet laughter around me. The pain grew so consuming I could barely think, yet something inside me refused to break. I began laughing myself, without even understanding why, tears streaming down at the same time.

"I never did anything wrong," I said, my voice hoarse yet unyielding. "Why would I confess to something I didn't do?" I looked at him, my chest aching. "The single greatest mistake of my life was ever meeting you. Jimmy... you're the most repulsive person I have ever known."

His expression darkened at once.

"And you," I turned toward Mirasol, my voice turning colder still, "what exactly are you performing here? Who do you think you are? Without him, you're nothing at all."

"Iris," she frowned, her voice quivering, "don't speak about him that way. You have no right to"

"Be quiet," I snapped. "You think you're superior to me? You're every bit as pathetic."

The whip came down harder this time.

"Be quiet!" Jimmy roared, entirely past the point of restraint.

"This strike is for Grandfather," he said coldly as the whip cracked again.

"This one is for what you did to Mirasol."

"This one is to remind you exactly who you are. Never imagine you belong beside me."

The blows continued, one following another, until I lost all count. Every strike felt as though it tore through my skin and reached something deeper I couldn't shield. A metallic taste flooded my throat and I coughed, blood spilling from my lips. My vision blurred, the whole world spinning around me.

So this was how it ended, then?

Was this truly it?

My body finally gave out, and darkness claimed everything.

**

When I regained consciousness, I found myself in a hospital room. The television played on a loop, replaying footage of me being whipped. Every groan, every sound of pain I'd made had been transformed into entertainment for their amusement.

My back remained raw, blood mingling with spilled liquor, and I felt like nothing more than a discarded heap left in some forgotten corner. The bar owner had discovered me barely clinging to consciousness and dragged me out. I couldn't even manage to cry. Nothing would come.

The door creaked open slowly and Mirasol stepped inside. She looked perfectly well, cheeks flushed with color, as though nothing whatsoever had happened to her. "Those two weeks you spent in the hospital," I said bitterly, "you faked the whole thing, didn't you?"

"And so what if I did?" she said, tossing a plastic bag onto my bed. "As long as I appear pitiful enough, Jimmy will do absolutely anything for me. Soon enough I'll stand at his side exactly where I belong." I caught the bag and froze instantly. Inside sat my father's urn. My hands trembled as I opened it.

Empty. Completely, utterly empty.

"What... what did you do? Where is my father?" I shouted.

Mirasol merely smiled, savoring the expression on my face. "Ashes serve no purpose. Why waste good land burying them? Better that wild dogs make use of them instead." She shrugged carelessly. "Oh, and I may have suggested halting your father's treatment at the hospital. Such a waste of resources, really."

My heart stopped cold. "You... you let him die?"

She waved her hand dismissively, as though the matter were trivial. "Understand thisI can make Jimmy do absolutely anything I want. Do you honestly believe you're anywhere near my level?" Then she raised her left hand. The ring caught the light, glinting cruelly. My blood turned to ice. It was the very ring Jimmy had purchased at auction for five hundred million, six months prior. Everyone had assumed a wedding was imminent that day, but Jimmy had insisted I wasn't worthy of it.

Mirasol laughed. "Jimmy says I deserve everything rare and precious this world has to offer. Including him. Including her, apparently. Only I'm truly deserving."

Something in me snapped completely. I lunged at her, my hands closing around her throat. "You killed my father! You deserve to die for it!" My voice shook with rage, pure hatred boiling over. Mirasol's smug expression never wavered.

Crack. A vase shattered against my skull. Hot blood streamed down my face. Jimmy shoved me backward and struck me hard across the face. "Have you completely lost your mind?!" he shouted. My chest throbbed with pain, but I was long past caring about that. I seized a broken shard from the shattered vase, ready to strike Mirasol in blind, consuming fury.

"You killed my father! You deserve to die!" I screamed.

Jimmy caught my wrist before I could act. Then his eyes landed on the urn still clutched in my other hand. His eyes widened in genuine shock. "What is this? Your father..."

Mirasol rolled her eyes dismissively. "Don't listen to him, Jimmy! I saw his father walking around the hospital just two days ago. How could he possibly have died so suddenly?"

I turned to Jimmy, desperate, panic clawing at me. Did he actually believe her? Could he even begin to comprehend what I'd lost?

Jimmy's expression froze momentarily, a flicker of guilt crossing his eyes. But it vanished just as quickly, replaced by something cold and distant. He turned toward the nurses. "Take her away. Commit her to the psychiatric facility. See that she receives special attention. Make certain she learns her lesson thoroughly."

I wanted to scream, to fight back, to explain everything, but my body felt hollowed out entirely. My father was gone, Mirasol had triumphed, and Jimmy hadn't even paused to question it.

**

On my first day at the psychiatric facility, I shattered a window attempting to escape. They caught me quickly and beat me until I could barely remain standing.

The following day, they strapped me to an operating table and removed one of my kidneys. No anesthesia was administered. I couldn't even manage a proper scream through the pain.

By the third day, I pleaded to see Jimmy, clinging to some hope that he might actually come. Instead, they released a pack of vicious dogs on me. Their eyes gleamed with something murderous, and they lunged forward instantly. My face drained of all color. I kicked and thrashed and screamed, but it only provoked them further. Their teeth sank into my arms and legs, tearing through skin.

A voice cut through the chaosMirasol's voice, laced with mockery. "Iris, are you truly so desperate that you can't even spare a stray dog's life? Whether you live or die is entirely up to fate now."

I felt as though the ceiling had collapsed directly on top of me. I wished desperately that this were all some nightmare. I wished I had never fallen for Jimmy in the first place. We'd once been so close, sharing everything between usthe bedroom, his study, even her office. Those memories of intimacy now felt like a noose tightening around my throat.

I was on the verge of biting through my own tongue, ready to end everything, when the door burst open violently. Jimmy stormed in with his bodyguards, his eyes ablaze. They threw themselves at the dogs, beating them until blood pooled everywhere. I couldn't bear to watch. The screaming, the stench of bloodI wanted nothing more than to vanish entirely.

It felt, absurdly, like years had passed before Jimmy's warmth reached me again. I trembled, my vision going dark, and collapsed into his arms.

When I regained consciousness, I was back in the villa, lying in bed. A scream erupted from the living room. I dragged myself up, cracked open the door, and froze in place. Jimmy sat on the sofa, his face utterly blank, while a heap of bloodied dogs cowered before him. He gestured toward the bodyguards, and they severed the animals' paws before torturing them to death with methodical precision.

I stared, my heart hammering violently. Was any of this real? Everything felt like a nightmare I couldn't claw my way out of. My back screamed in protest as old wounds split open once more. I gasped, leaning heavily against the doorframe for support.

Jimmy finally approached, his steps unhurried, his expression softening just slightly. Yet his words remained sharp, unforgiving. "This was simply an accident on Mirasol's part. You're safe now, so don't hold it against her, Iris."

I blinked, still shaking uncontrollably. Safe? Had I ever truly been safe around either of them? My hands trembled as I sank down to the floor.

Jimmy tossed a letter toward me. "Sign this, and swear you won't use any of this against Mirasol going forward. In exchange, I'll ensure you're released from the fifty-two million debt, and I'll see to it the doctors do everything possible for your father."

He looked at me as though I owed him gratitude, as though this constituted genuine charity. Then he added, "Don't dwell on it too much. The person I love will always be Mirasol, but given our five years together, I can guarantee you a life free from financial worry."

Arrogance dripped from every syllable, exactly as it had the night he'd humiliated me at the bar. Was this truly how he perceived me? Some beggar meant to weep tears of gratitude over a minor favor tossed her way?

Perhaps I had once been exactly that. I would have done absolutely anything for my father's sake. But not any longer. Not now.

I offered no response. Jimmy flung the letter down and said, "Sign it and deliver it to my office." Then he walked out, striding away as though he owned the entire world.

I laughed, bitter and hollow, and tore the letter to shreds. Then I phoned the police and filed a report against Mirasol by name.

Midnight arrived. I glanced at the calendar, then at the grandfather clock standing in the corner. In ten hours, I would finally be free.

I packed my belongings, took a long, hot shower, and made my way to the cemetery before departing. I buried my father's urn there, knelt before his headstone, and bowed three times in respect. Years of suppressed grief finally broke free, and I wept openly, without restraint.

"Dad, I'm going to truly live now. If you could see me, I hope I'd make you proud."

A firefly settled on my finger, its faint glow illuminating his photograph. I pictured his gentle smile, his warm eyes. I rested my head against the cold stone, remembering all the times he'd comforted me. Our Iris has grown up now. Why are you still crying?

I slept there through the entire night. When I woke, sunlight was already spilling across the ground around me. My future lay waiting ahead.

My phone buzzed. A wedding invitation from Mirasol. And a message from the Public Security Bureau: my case had officially opened for investigation.

I smiled for the first time in what felt like years. I deleted the wedding invitation without hesitation and blocked every possible channel Mirasol and Jimmy might use to reach me.

Half an hour later, I was aboard a plane. The moment we broke through the clouds, the tension that had gripped my body for so long finally released. I whispered to myself: I will never see you again. I made that promise to myself, a wish sealed in silence.

Mountains and rivers might separate us now, but from this moment forward, I am free.