Part 2The One-Hundredth Time

The next day, Christopher woke up and didn't see my busy figure in the kitchen.

There were no wontons he loved on the table, no hand-brewed coffee, no ironed and matched clothes on the rack.

Christopher rushed upstairs in a panic and opened my door, only to find it empty.

He picked up the photos from the floor, flustered.

"Martha! Where is Sarah?!"

The housekeeper ran over, spatula in hand, looked at the empty room, and shook her head.

"I'll call her mother."

Martha paused, asking instinctively:

"Young Master, didn't Miss Sarah's mother die? She was cremated the next day."

Christopher flashed back to me holding the urn that day. His breath hitched.

He bent down to pick up the photo, pupils dilating, looking like the life had been sucked out of him.

In ten years, he never thought I would actually leave him.

The photo in his hand was us in our early twenties, taken on a street in Paris.

Back then, just starting out, he didn't even dare put his arm around my shoulder in the photo.

But seeing his nervousness, I had leaned my head on his shoulder.

Christopher carefully wiped the dust off the photo. He tried hard to smooth the creases, but it was futile.

"Martha is making wontons today, we gotta get downstairs fast."

"This dress is beautiful. Designer stuff really is different."

"This hairpin is nice too."

"Do these shoes look good?"

Chattering voices came from outside. Christopher frowned and looked out.

At a glance, he saw Lily wearing a pink maxi dress. He had bought that dress in Italy for me.

It was our one-month anniversary gift.

"Stop!"

Christopher rushed out, shouting sternly.

He saw things he had given me scattered on everyone—scarves, coats, skirts, bags, shoes.

One of them was even wearing our wedding ring.

"Who told you to wear her clothes! Take them off!"

"Who told you to wear that ring!"

"Take off everything that doesn't belong to you!"

Christopher's gaze lingered briefly on each person, but he couldn't remember their faces.

He didn't even remember their names.

Normally, to provoke me, he indulged them in everything.

This was the first time they saw him so angry.

Terrified, they stripped off the items. Lily, inexperienced, muttered a refusal.

Red-eyed, Christopher marched up and tore the dress off Lily.

"I give you five minutes. Put everything you took from her back where it belongs!"

Christopher had Martha watch them while he rushed downstairs to check the surveillance footage.

Security showed him the footage from the past few days.

Christopher saw me running in the snowy night, the shocking red blood trail behind me.

He saw me get into Adrian's car. Twice. Both times Adrian.

"Damn it!"

"I shouldn't have let that bastard attend!"

Christopher cursed and returned to the house. As soon as he entered, he saw the women chatting in the living room.

In the past, seeing me surrounded by them, daring to be angry but not speak, he felt a secret pleasure.

But now without me, he only found it noisy.

"Without Sarah, life feels meaningless."

"Usually she'd be washing our socks by now, and making snacks later."

"You know, I kinda miss her!"

Christopher stood at the door, eyes icy.

Even though he had tacitly allowed all of this.

Hearing it with his own ears, every word felt like a cut.

Telling him that he forced Sarah away.

"Martha!"

"Tell them to pack their things and get the hell out!"

Christopher's sudden roar scared everyone in the living room.

They apologized involuntarily, promising not to gossip anymore.

But Christopher wouldn't listen. He ordered Martha to supervise their packing.

Lily, bold as ever, stood in front of Christopher, blocking him.

"I'm pregnant."

Lily touched her flat stomach, a smug look on her face.

But she was surprised to see the other sisters' faces change.

They rushed upstairs, packed in minutes, and fled the Kane house.

Lily was confused. Shouldn't pregnancy give her leverage over Christopher?

Why were they so panicked?

The next second, Christopher grabbed her and threw her into the corner.

Pain shot through her back. Christopher stood there, composed and cold.

When he spoke, the words were lethal.

"Martha, call Dr. Chen to come over for an abortion."

A simple sentence proved this wasn't the first time in the Kane household.

What Lily didn't know was that I used to handle this for him.

Christopher never let any woman bear his child.

Including me.

In the second month of our marriage, I found out I was pregnant.

Afraid Christopher would hurt me and the baby, I tried to run. But no matter how I ran, he caught me.

During the struggle, I miscarried.

That day, Christopher's red-rimmed eyes were full of hatred for me. He called me cruel, heartless.

To this day, I don't understand. He caused the miscarriage, why was I the cruel one?

Lily didn't understand either, just like I hadn't. So she knelt and begged:

"No, I don't want an abortion."

"Mr. Kane, didn't you say you loved me? You said I was your favorite. Why can't I have it?"

Christopher looked down, contempt and disdain flashing in his eyes.

"Love?"

"You think you deserve it?"

Lily looked into those deep eyes and trembled with fear.

Christopher ordered Martha to clean Lily up, then drove away.

He had more important things to do.

Martha sighed, coaxing Lily to wait for the doctor.