Ethan was a strikingly handsome man, with long, elegant fingers that now held a knife and fork with graceful ease. When he heard Lydia's question.he paused slightly. "What do you mean?"

Lydia bit her lower lip gently, hesitated for a moment, and then stammered,"I mean, about your divorce with Wendy."

As soon as she finished speaking, she noticed Ethan's gaze turn icy cold.like a chilling wind had swept through. Lydia couldn't help but shiver,her eyes filled with fear.

Perhaps sensing her fear, Ethan softened his gaze slightly and said calmly,"We're not getting divorced."

Was it because Wendy didn't want the divorce, or had Ethan changed his mind?

Lydia preferred to believe it was the former.

"Ethan, you and Wendy are the legitimate couple. At best, I'm just your mistress. I used to despise mistresses, but I never thought I'd become one myself. I feel so worthless, stealing someone else's husband and still being taken care of by her." Lydia's brows furrowed, her face full of sorrow.

Ethan usually had little patience for self-pity, but he felt a twinge of guilt towards Lydia, which made him more patient than usual. "Wendy and I signed un agreement. She takes care of you willingly. You don't need to feel guilty about it."

Lydia's expression grew even more somber as she pressed on, "Ethan, does your promise to marry me still stand?"

Faced with this barrage of questions, Ethan found himself at a loss for words,unsure of how to respond.

Those suppressed,complicated emotions surged up again.

Lydia had been with him for so many years that she could see right through him. She quickly masked her disappointment andeforced a smile."Ethan, if you don't want to divorce her, then let's just go back to being friends. I respect your choice."

She stood up, turned away from Ethan, and tried to hold back her tears.

"Lydia," Ethan frowned, "I didn't say I wouldn't divorce her."

He slowly stood up, placed a hand on Lydia's shoulder,and turned her around to face him, looking deeply into her eyes. "There are just some things that need to be dealt with."

Especially the division of assets.

He wasn't ignorant of the law. Even though Wendy was just a housewife now, once they divorced, their assets would have to be split in half.

That would be a huge loss for him!

He didn't want Lydia to worry or be upset, but he couldn't tell her this directly.

Hearing this, Lydia was overjoyed. She grabbed Ethan's wrist excitedly and asked eagerly, "Really? When will you get everything sorted out?"

"Very soon!"

The Knight Villa.

Wendy had been locked in the bedroom by Ethan for three whole days.the small space becoming her prison.

She couldn't get out, and Ethan had taken her phone, cutting off all contact with the outside world and any chance of seeking help.

On the first day, driven by sheer stubbornness and aewill to live, she managed to endure.

But as time passed, the physical discomfort grew stronger, like relentless waves crashing over her.

There was no drinkable water in the room. The tap water was unfiltered and had a pungent smell.

When the thirst became unbearable, Wendy shakily cupped some water in her hands. grimacing as she swallowed a bit.

Her stomach growled with hunger, as if countless hands were clawing at it.She searched everywhere but found nothing.

In desperation, she tore up some toilet paper and forced herself to swallow it, trying to ease the gnawing hunger.

Her body ached all over, so she fumbled through her bag for her cancer medication and painkillers, swallowing them with the foul tap water.

To conserve her remaining strength, Wendy lay motionless on the bed.

Cold sweat continuously beaded on her forehead, soaking the bedding.only to be dried by her body heat, over and over again.

The bedding becume damp and cold, clinging to her and chilling her to the bone.

Her face, already pale as paper, now blended into the dimly lit room,merging with the stark white walls behind her.

She lookedI like a ghost, her entire being seeming to fade away,ready to disappear at any moment.

These three days felt like an eternity, and Wendy had never experienced such a profound sense of time's torment.

Especially when night fell, the darkness engulfed her completely.

She sat in the endless blackness, surrounded by silence, time seemingly at a standstill, each second stretching endlessly.

She closed her eyes numbly, her mind foggy and muddled.

As a cancer patient, her body was already extremely weak, and any slight mishap could lead to a high fever.

She touched her forehead with her hand, lacking a thermometer, relying on her palm's sensation.

Sure enough, her temperature was rising rapidly, her burning forehead scorching her hand.

Her eyes were dry and painful, open, they ached as if pricked by thousands of needles; closed, the pain kept her from sleeping.

As time slowly passed, her thoughts became sluggish, like an old, rusty machine struggling to operate.

In this near-desperate situation, the only thing keeping her going was the words Ethan had thrown at her before he left. She just had to endure these three days, and she could get out.

But when would these "three days"end?

She weakly burrowed deeper into the thin, damp bedding,hugging herself tightly,trying to find some warmth.

But strangely, despite being wrapped in the blanket, her body felt like it was in an icehouse, her toes curling from the cald,trembling uncontrollably.

Her empty stomach felt like it was on fire, burning fiercely, as if pierced by countless steel needles, the pain unbearable.

Even her neighboring organs were affected, twisting in pain, rotting along with her stomach.

Wendy bit down hard on her back teeth, the sound of grinding teeth filling the room as she fought against the excruciating pain.

Desperate with hunger, Wendy found some strength from somewhere,struggling to get up. With trembling hands, she bit her finger and, on a crumpled piece of paper, scrawled: [Save me.]

Then, wrapping it in a strip of cloth torn from the bedsheet, she used all her remaining strength to throw it out the window.