The results of the investigation and the recovered chat data were delivered to Night’s home the following day.

He had repurchased every single one of Clara’s belongings—identical to the ones she took—and placed them exactly where they had been. Every time he returned home, he would momentarily hallucinate that she was still by his side. But gone was gone. Without Clara, the entire villa felt deathly silent, as if all its vitality had been drained away.

It took a long time for Night to build up enough courage to click on the files.

The most recent entry was from the day before Clara left—a video Selene had secretly filmed of them sharing a soft kiss at the piano. It was accompanied by several texts.

"You probably didn't know, but this is Brother Night’s favorite place. I won't film what we’re about to do next; I’m afraid you won't be able to handle it."

"Is there any point in continuing to play dumb? How does it feel to be the 'other woman' while knowing the truth? You’ll be a mistress hidden in the shadows for the rest of your life. If you’re truly desperate, you could beg me—maybe I’ll let Brother Night visit you a few more times?"

Scrolling up, he was met with an even greater onslaught of mockery, including countless intimate photos and videos of them. Her social media feed was filled with posts flaunting their "romance," all set to be visible only to Clara.

Night was already blinded by a towering rage. But when he opened the folder containing the investigation results, the fury on his face froze, and the blood in his veins seemed to turn to ice.

The thugs from the auction... Selene had hired them herself!

And yet, back then, he had pushed Clara to the ground, ignored her bleeding forehead, and even forced her to drink alcohol she couldn't tolerate because of it.

He remembered her sorrowful eyes that day and the soft, hollow laugh she let out after hearing his self-righteous lecture. Night’s heart hammered violently, and in the next instant, it felt as if it were being carved out alive. The pain left him drenched in a cold sweat.

"Bring Selene Young here!" His voice was so dark it seemed to drip with venom.

Soon, Selene was pushed into the room. Seeing the scattered photos on the floor, her face turned deathly pale as the truth dawned on her. She collapsed to her knees, crawling toward Night’s feet.

"Brother Night, I’m sorry! I did things I shouldn't have, but it was all because I love you! It’s because I love you that I lost my head and said those things to her. But at the end of the day, I just wanted to stand by your side legitimately!"

Night let out a cold sneer and gripped her chin so hard that he left a dark bruise on her face.

"I told you more than once that my helping you was not to be flaunted in front of Clara. Do you not understand human speech?"

"Now that you've driven her away, you will bear the consequences!"

With that, he coldly flung her away. Selene crawled back with reddened eyes, her voice trembling.

"Brother Night, I’m carrying your child! For the sake of the baby, I beg you to spare me, please!"

The man before her didn't spare her another glance.

"I know you’re pregnant, of course. But so what? It’s just a child. I can have as many as I want. What makes you think you’re worthy of bearing my child?"

"Besides, aborting the one you’re carrying now will make it much easier for you to conceive that other man’s child, wouldn't it?"

——————————

At those words, Selene completely spiraled into panic. She reflexively shielded her stomach.

The Young family was no longer what it used to be; they were hovering on the brink of bankruptcy. If she couldn't keep this child, she would lose her last chance to secure her position as Mrs. Knightley. She might even... she might even be sold to that perverted old man to be toyed with!

Her face was paper-white. She instinctively lunged for her phone, wanting to call Night’s mother. Mrs. Knightley placed the highest importance on heirs; if she knew about the pregnancy, she would surely find a way to protect her!

Night ruthlessly kicked the phone away just as she was about to dial. He stood up, using the tip of his shoe to tilt Selene’s chin upward, and said coldly:

"Abort the child quietly. I’ve already finalized the divorce papers; your consent doesn't matter. Don't even think about trying any more of your cheap tricks."

"When I find Clara, you had better give her a proper apology. If she’s willing to forgive you, I might leave you a way to live."

He didn't give Selene a single chance to refuse. Before him, she had always been the one in the inferior position, groveling for favor. Selene slumped to the floor, her composure gone, but she still didn't forget to protect her lower abdomen.

As long as the child could be born, her future wouldn't be completely ruined. However, Night had no intention of giving her that chance. He had already done enough to wrong Clara; if this child remained, he and Clara would truly be finished!

Night’s expression turned vicious. He directly ordered his bodyguards to drag Selene to the hospital.

Selene tried to struggle and resist countless times, begging through her tears, but she was no match for the bodyguards. She was eventually pinned down on the cold operating table. As the anesthetic was injected into her system, she gradually lost control of her limbs, and her eyelids closed against her will.

When she woke up again, her womb was empty. Her only hope was gone. As the anesthesia wore off, a sharp, tearing pain radiated through her, making even the slightest movement an agony. Tears rolled down her cheeks. The child was gone; her future security was completely severed!

Meanwhile, Night had returned to his usual nightclub, drowning his sorrows in a private booth. He couldn't remember the last time he’d had a good night’s sleep. The scent of Clara in their home was growing fainter every day; he could barely tell she had lived there at all.

He didn't dare go back. To escape, he came here, drinking bottle after bottle.

"I'm sorry, Clara... didn't you always hate it when I drank? Come out and stop me... Clara..."

Just then, there was a knock at the door. He didn't want to answer. No one knew this booth except for his close friends, and he hadn't told them he was here today. The person knocking must have the wrong room.

But the knocking continued persistently. Seeing no response, the person pushed the door open and walked in.

"Get the hell out—"

Before he could finish his harsh words, he looked up and froze. Standing at the door was a girl pushing a cart filled with drinks and snacks.

"Hello, did you order these drinks?"

The familiar voice exploded in his ears, and his eyes instantly turned a deep, burning red.

"Cla... Clara?"