Diego did nothing but humiliate Saronne, offering her not a shred of support.

Ever since he began parading Vivian around in front of others, the social circles had been buzzing with harsh speculation.

[The Duke of Lois’s First Love Appears at the Banquet—with a Hidden Child in Tow]
[The Longstanding Headache of House Lois’s Heir Problem, Finally Resolved]
[How Can a Bastard Be the Heir? Some Say, “Having No Heir at All Is a Bigger Problem”]

Just a few days ago, Saronne was fully immersed in the social scene. She enjoyed being the centre of attention and effortlessly steering conversations.

However, after reading just one issue of the gossip columns, she shut herself off from it all.

Having failed for years to fulfil her duty as a wife by producing an heir, Saronne had become a social outcast.

‘Diego doesn’t care about me or our child anymore…’

Whatever strings she tried to pull, whatever pleas she sent to the elders of House Lois, nothing came of it.

Due to past circumstances, asking her own family for help was also impossible. And as if to mock Saronne’s situation.

“Lady Saronne?”

The woman who acted as if everything in the mansion already belonged to her stepped in her way.

Their encounter took place in Saronne’s favorite garden. Even that space, Vivian came and went freely as if it were her own.

Now, recognizing Saronne, she greeted her with a radiant smile.

“I didn’t expect to see you here…! May I call you Lady Saronne?”

Vivian approached with quick, light steps, still beaming.

Then, as if something had just come to mind, she clapped her hands lightly and spoke.

“Come to think of it, I heard the news—you’re pregnant! Congratulations, Lady Saronne. Jeihan’s going to have a little sibling now.”

Vivian’s voice rang out bright and cheerful, utterly pure.

Saronne’s expression instantly froze.

Jeihan—that was the name of the child Vivian had brought with her, the one currently staying at the villa.

Vivian’s smile was radiant, like sunshine, as if she held not a shred of malice.

‘How can someone be so shameless…?’

She clearly knew the circumstances between them—what kind of situation they were all in.

“Lady Benit, I don’t think we’re close enough to be using each other’s names.”

“Ah, i-is that so? But… Diego said I could speak comfortably with you… You’re welcome to call me Vivian too, Lady Saronne.”

Saronne let out a dry, disbelieving laugh. Vivian had already said her name twice, insisting on familiarity while hiding behind Diego’s name.

“I was actually thinking of visiting you soon, so this is perfect. There was something I wanted to speak with you about…”

Vivian’s voice softened, a shy blush rising on her cheeks.

“Actually… I have a favor to ask.”

‘A favor?’

Saronne’s gaze narrowed. They weren’t the kind of women who exchanged warm requests or favors.

Just then, Vivian reached out and suddenly took one of Saronne’s hands, clasping it tightly between both of hers.

“Lady Saronne… could you perhaps… give Diego to me now?”

“…What did you just say?”

“I understand this must be hard for you… but the truth is, Diego has spent all these years sacrificing himself as your husband, hiding his true feelings for me.”

At that moment, a sorrowful expression fell across Vivian’s face. Her eyes shimmered with moisture, and in a frail voice, she looked up at Saronne and spoke—

“I just feel so sorry for him… Please, I’m asking you. I know you’re a kind person, Lady Saronne, so you’ll understand, won’t you?”

“…Ha.”

Saronne let out a breathless scoff, fury boiling up from deep within.

Did this woman really see her as nothing more than some unwanted obstacle in their love story?

As her vision seemed to blaze red with rage, Saronne jerked her hand free from Vivian’s grip.

“I know this all happened suddenly, and I—ah!”

“Listen here, Lady Benit. Don’t speak nonsense. You’re nothing more than a guest staying in our home. Or have you forgotten who Diego’s wife is?”

How could anyone be this shameless?

Seeing those trembling forest-green eyes—eyes that acted as if she was the only victim here—only made Saronne’s anger surge higher.

It was then that a sharp voice rang out from behind her.

“Vivian!”

Startled, Saronne turned to look—

Diego had come running toward them, and with a swift motion, he pushed past Saronne and wrapped Vivian in his arms.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Saronne could barely stand as she stared at the two of them.

Her husband was holding another woman and shielding her as if she were the one in need of protection.

Vivian clutched at the wrist that had pushed her away, her body trembling.

Diego, who had rushed over, shot Saronne a glare.

Stunned into silence for a moment, Saronne clenched her teeth and forced out a response.

“Lady Benit came to me first and said something utterly absurd. She insulted me—!”

“I saw you coldly reject her when she approached you kindly. And you expect me to believe you?”

Diego’s eyes were filled with open irritation as he stared at Saronne, then pulled Vivian into his arms.

“Try saying something that actually makes sense.”

“Are you not even the slightest bit ashamed of how this looks? I’m your wife! And that woman—!”

“Ashamed?”

He echoed the word mockingly, followed by a scoff.

“After all these years together… you still don’t know what kind of man your husband is? I couldn’t care less about appearances.”

“…What did you say?”

“I don’t even know why you’re getting so worked up. It’s not like I kicked you out of the house, is it?”

“If anything, you should be grateful I’m treating the woman who finally solved your years-long heir problem with this much courtesy. For your sake, to save your pride.”

As Saronne’s expression slowly twisted with anger and disbelief, Diego smiled—lightly, almost breezily—

A smug, shameless smile that seemed to ask, What’s the problem?

And then, his gently upturned lips curled into a sneer.

“Since you seem to be holding onto quite a bit of resentment… let me make one thing clear while we’re here.”

“…”

“Seeing Vivian again reminded me… I prefer quiet women over loud ones like you.”

“…Are you comparing me to her right now?”

“Who knows? That’s for you to figure out.”

His voice was smooth, scornful.

“I’m just offering advice because it’s a shame that my own wife still doesn’t understand her husband’s preferences. At this rate, even the child inside you must be tired of all your noise.”

The cruelty in his words left Saronne utterly speechless. And without another glance, Diego turned and left with Vivian at his side.

Saronne stood there, alone—her lips pressed together tightly, trembling.

A faint sob slipped from her throat, unable to be contained.

‘This can’t go on…’

With shaking hands, she clutched her belly.

Her husband—
He had been seeing his first love in her all along. Suddenly, everything made sense: his shifting attitude, the cold indifference, the way he dismissed her.

Her heart throbbed with pain. The heavens felt unbearably cruel. But she couldn’t stand by, powerless—not anymore.

‘If no one in this household will help me, then I have to inform others—make it known and fight for my child’s rightful place…!’

Even if she herself had been discarded, she wouldn’t allow her child to suffer the same fate.

Saronne hurried back to her bedroom. There, she began drafting invitations, adding more influential names than usual to the guest list for her social gatherings.

It might not be enough. But doing nothing was not an option.

As she was still a hot topic in society, those who received the invitations would come, if only to satisfy their curiosity.

They had to.

‘Diego and Lady Benit must not find out.’

But how?

As she wrestled with the question, Saronne recalled something her personal maid had said not long ago:

<My lady, let me be your strength. To think a bastard would be named heir when the rightful successor is growing strong—it’s unthinkable!>

The firm voice of that loyal girl, who had vowed to support her.

Having a maid discreetly handle the invitations, rather than Saronne leaving the estate to send them herself, would be far more natural—and far more discreet.

‘Yes… I can trust her.’

And yet—
That confidence, born of desperation, would prove to be a grave mistake.

Saronne had been planning to go out for a walk, for the sake of her baby’s health, when someone suddenly called out to her.

“Lady Saronne!”

She had just stepped out of her bedroom and taken her first step downstairs.

As she turned her head, she saw Vivian looking up at her with a smile. It seemed that she had just come down from upstairs.

“…Lady Benit.”

Saronne’s expression immediately turned cold.

Vivian’s room was on a lower floor. The only rooms upstairs were Diego’s office and private study. Which meant—Vivian had just come from being alone with her husband.

Unaware—or perhaps feigning ignorance—Vivian chirped cheerfully.

“You seem busy lately. I heard you’re planning a little gathering?”

The moment the honeyed words left her lips, Saronne’s steps faltered, like the trill of a lark.

‘How does she know that? Don’t tell me… the maid didn’t keep it secret?’

A sudden rush of betrayal clouded her judgment but Saronne quickly gathered herself.

“It’s a regular gathering I host. Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

“I assume the invitations have already gone out?”

If she knew about the gathering, she probably knew who was on the guest list too.

Tilting her head innocently, Vivian simply blinked and smiled sweetly.

Unwilling to engage with her any further, Saronne turned without replying and headed for the stairs. But just as she was about to descend—

—Vivian, with an expression that was no longer innocent but twisted into something strange, closed the distance and stood behind her.

“Lady Saronne.”

Vivian’s lips moved slowly, her voice dropping into a low, chilling whisper that sent a shiver racing down Saronne’s spine.

Startled, Saronne began to turn—

But before she could fully face her—

“You’ve done well… being useful until the very end.”

Vivian’s voice was smooth as silk—and just as deadly.

In the next heartbeat, she thrust both hands forward and shoved Saronne with all her strength.

Down the stairs.

Saronne had no time to react.

Her body lurched forward—helplessly, weightlessly—and in the wide, horrified blur of her vision, the last thing she saw…

Was Vivian’s smiling face.

‘What…!’

But the shock and terror lasted only a heartbeat. Then came the horrifying sensation of weightlessness followed by the sickening plunge and the harsh, unforgiving impact.

Her back hit a step, then her shoulder, her chest, her abdomen, her legs, every part of her slammed against the cold marble as she tumbled down.

No scream left her lips.
Her mind went blank. She couldn’t think—couldn’t even process the pain.

All she felt was her body aching violently, as if it were being torn apart piece by piece.

“Hhuhk…”

It wasn’t until it was all over that she could breathe properly again. When the dizzying moment had passed and she came to her senses, she found herself lying on the cold floor.

It had all happened in an instant. It was so fast that she had forgotten what had happened for a moment. The only thing she knew was that something was terribly wrong.

Ignoring the agony screaming from every joint and bone, she tentatively placed a trembling hand on her abdomen.

Her vision swam. She could hardly breathe.

“A-ah…!”

Her shaking hand brushed across her belly, where the pain was most severe—
And felt something wet.

Something that shouldn’t be there.

A chilling sensation shot up the back of her neck.

‘No… No, it can’t be.’

‘It can’t be.’

Her breathing became more laboured. The pain prevented her from moving a muscle, and she could only look up with great effort.

At the top of the stairs stood Vivian Benit, watching her.

Calm satisfaction gleamed in her eyes. She wore a smile so wide and cruel that it sent shivers down Saronne’s spine.

“……!”

Was that the breaking point?

When she saw that wicked smile, Saronne felt a sharp pang of dread. A sharp, fiery surge tore through her mind.

“…….”

A bitter, breathless laugh escaped her lips.
Lying in a pool of her own blood, her body broken and cold, Saronne slowly curled her fingers into a trembling fist.

In the distance, she could faintly hear Vivian’s panicked cries, calling for the servants.

Every word, every sound—
A lie.
All of it.

‘Why… why didn’t I remember until now?’

‘It’s happened before.’

With bloodshot eyes, Saronne stared up at Vivian.

Then, slowly—

— everything went dark.