"Water... please..."

A cup was pressed against Clara’s lips, and she greedily drank the cool liquid.

Wait...

What happened?

Clara snapped her eyes open and looked around in a panic.

"You're awake?" Sebastian set the cup down and picked up a bowl of warm congee, bringing it to her lips with a tender expression. "Have some porridge."

Clara shrank back toward the headboard, watching him warily. "Don't come near me! What did you do to me? Where is this?"

"This is our home. Don't you recognize it?" Sebastian looked slightly aggrieved.

"You're my wife. Isn't it only natural for you to stay at home?"

If Clara didn't understand what was happening by now, she’d be a fool.

Sebastian had imprisoned her.

Has he lost his mind!

Clara clenched her fists, her nails digging deep into her palms.

Knowing she couldn't provoke someone whose mental state was on the brink of collapse, she softened her voice. "Sebastian, don't do this. Let me out, okay?"

"We can talk everything through."

"No." Sebastian’s tone was gentle yet firm. "If I let you go, you’ll just go find someone else."

"What someone else?" Clara realized what he meant and felt like weeping. "Julian and I aren't actually in that kind of relationship..."

"No, I don't believe you."

Sebastian gave a soft huff. "Just stay here quietly until you fall in love with me again."

"Don't count on that 'pretty boy' of yours to save you. This is D.C.; I can make sure he never leaves this city alive!"

"You..."

Clara took a deep breath. "Fine. Then at least give me my phone."

"The case is still under investigation. I need to follow up constantly to find the true culprit who murdered my parents."

Sebastian lowered his eyes and thought for a moment.

Under Clara’s hopeful gaze, he gently refused. "No, it’s too dangerous. You'll lose your life if you keep getting involved in this."

"I won't even be able to save you then."

Clara was completely out of options.

She flopped back onto the bed and said expressionlessly, "Get out!"

Sebastian’s eyes filled with sorrow. "Now that you know you can't escape, is this how you're going to treat me?"

"It doesn't matter, Clara. We have plenty of time."

"You'll love me again, just like you did at the very beginning."

Clara pulled the duvet over her head, pretending not to hear him.

Shameless bastard!

Sebastian seemed oblivious to her resistance.

During the day, he would hold her, rambling about their past memories or coaxing her to eat in a soft voice.

At night, he would wait until Clara closed her eyes before stealthily climbing into bed.

Sensing his presence beside her, Clara would stiffen for a moment, but seeing that he was just lying there quietly, she gritted her teeth and endured it.

She was very good at enduring.

The two were locked in a bizarre stalemate for several days.

Until one night, as a light snow fell outside, Sebastian seemed to have had some wine. He cupped her cheeks, acting clingy and trying to lean in for a kiss.

"Sebastian, get off me."

Clara met his eyes, her tone flat and devoid of emotion.

There was no anger or surprise in her eyes—they were like a pool of stagnant water.

It was as if Sebastian could never again stir a ripple in her heart.

Stung by that look, Sebastian forcefully turned her face back toward him, tears glimmering in his eyes. "You're unwilling?"

"Why are you unwilling? Clara, you are my wife!"

He ignored her protest, pressing down on her and leaning in to kiss her.

Overwhelmed by a wave of nausea, Clara bit down hard. The metallic taste of blood spread through their mouths.

Sebastian acted as if he couldn't feel the pain, his hand sliding beneath her clothes—

Slap.

Clara struck him across the face.

He turned his head back, licked the blood from the corner of his lip, and laughed. "Good hit. If you like hitting me, you can do it as many times as you want."

"But you won't stop me today."

"Sebastian, do you know? In this very villa, in the basement right here, Arthur tried to force himself on me."

Clara let out a mocking light laugh. "Do you know what I did?"

Sebastian’s expression froze. "Back then, I..."

"I slammed my head against the wall, over and over again, until there was blood everywhere."

"At that moment, I truly wanted to die and be done with it."

"Do you want me to do it again?"

Clara’s expression wasn't crazed, but Sebastian had no doubt she would actually do it.

His Clara was a stubborn and fierce person.

He froze for a long time, his lips moving but no sound coming out. Finally, he hung his head in defeat.

"Get out."

"I'm sorry..."

Sebastian didn't dare look her in the eye again. He turned and fled the room as if escaping.

Clara wiped her lips expressionlessly and pulled her right hand out from under the duvet.

She was holding Sebastian’s phone.

The password was bound to be related to her; she had guessed it after a few tries.

Considering there were bodyguards outside and a phone call would alert them, she skillfully typed in Julian’s number and sent a text.

[It's Clara. Sebastian has me locked up at 57 Mountain Road, D.C.]

"Clara, look. I had these tulips sent over from France. Don't you love them..."

The next day, Sebastian acted as if nothing had happened, excitedly showing them to Clara.

Clara lowered her eyes. "I don't like them. My sister did."

Sebastian’s words caught in his throat, and his expression turned awkward.

After all, he had indirectly caused the child’s death; mentioning her always brought a wave of guilt and unease.

Clara let out a sigh and looked out the window, her tone softening slightly. "I want to go to the cemetery to see her."

Hesitation flickered across Sebastian’s face. "Clara, it’s not safe outside. Besides, didn't you just go a few days ago..."

"So I can't go just because I went recently!"

Clara’s face crumpled as her long-suppressed emotions finally boiled over. She grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him. "What, am I your prisoner? Your pet? I can't even step out the door?"

"Didn't you say I was your wife? Is this how you treat your own wife?!"

Despite her fierce tone, a look of joy surfaced on Sebastian’s face.

"Clara, are you willing to remarry me?"

Clara paused, as if realizing she had misspoken. Her expression became even more sour. "After how you've treated me, who would want to remarry you!"

So there is hope.

Sebastian had never felt so happy; it was as if fireworks were exploding in his heart.

He quickly coaxed her. "Don't be angry. I’ll go with you. But..."

"But what?"

"Could you put this on first?" He pulled a small box from his jacket and opened it. A ring sparkled under the light.

The previous wedding ring had long since been thrown away by Clara; this was clearly a new custom piece.

Clara said nothing.

"If you put it on, I’ll take you to see your sister..."

With a tense face, she roughly took the ring and slid it onto her ring finger.

"Is this enough!"

Sebastian beamed and immediately had someone arrange the car.

...

Outside the cemetery, Clara stepped out of the car, followed by a group of burly bodyguards.

She glanced at them and frowned irritably.

She hadn't expected Sebastian’s guard to be this high. From the looks of it, he had brought every bodyguard the family owned.

She wondered if Julian had arrived yet...

"What is Clara looking at?"

Beside her, Sebastian turned to look at her, his gaze tender. "Are you waiting for Julian?"

Clara was startled, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of her neck.

"You're still as smart as ever, deleting every record you could. But after having my phone for that long, how could you have done nothing?"

A confident curve formed at the corner of Sebastian’s mouth. "But so what if you contacted Julian? Does he really have the ability to snatch you away right under my nose?"

Well... actually, he does.

Clara’s voice was hollow. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Sebastian smiled indulgently and didn't press further, accompanying her into the cemetery to clean the grave and light incense.

Looking at the young girl’s tender face on the tombstone, his smile vanished.

"I'm sorry, Sylvia. If there's a next life, I will definitely make it up to you."

He placed chrysanthemums before the grave and let out a long sigh. "I hope you've gone to heaven."

"If you're that guilty, Mr. Sebastian, why don't you go to heaven and apologize to her in person?"

A deep voice rang out, and Sebastian’s face turned cold.

"Julian, you actually dared to show up?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Julian didn't bother looking at him, instead reaching out his hand to Clara. "Miss Clara, come here."

Perhaps due to his overseas upbringing, his tone and posture always carried a gentlemanly air; even now, he addressed her as "Miss Clara."

But in his eyes, there was a sense of absolute authority.

Clara was dazed for a moment and instinctively started to walk toward him.

"Clara!" Sebastian grabbed her arm. "If you dare go to him, I'll break that pretty boy’s legs!"

"Break my legs? It seems you haven't grasped the situation yet, Mr. Sebastian."

Julian smirked, but his gaze swept over Sebastian’s hand gripping Clara’s arm.

Born in the U.S., he had been strictly tutored by his parents from the moment he could remember, learning all forms of etiquette to become an impeccable gentleman—at least on the surface.

But occasionally, the mild-mannered Mr. Julian would have vicious thoughts like,

"I should have hit him harder back then, so he could never lift his arm again."

Sebastian was startled.

Since they were at an old friend’s grave, he had told the bodyguards to stay about twenty paces back.

Logically, they should have rushed over by now.

He turned his head to look. They had been silently dragged away at some unknown point.

This was definitely not something ordinary people could achieve.

Sebastian clenched his fist, feeling an unprecedented wave of panic. "Your surname is Julian...

which

Julian?"

"The one you're thinking of," Julian said mildly. "Now, can you let go of her arm? Otherwise, I can't guarantee what I'll do."

Up until now, Sebastian had been full of confidence.

Yes, he had done wrong; he had broken Clara’s heart.

But his appearance was superior enough, and his wealth substantial enough—it was hard to find a man more attractive than him.

He was confident that after knowing him, Clara wouldn't choose anyone else.

People make mistakes; as long as Clara hadn't fallen for someone else, he had time to slowly make amends.

One day, he would hold her in his arms again.

But now... but now...