I grabbed a brick and swung it wildly—blood splattered all over my face.

The next day, after leaving the police station, Rachel never came.

Instead, I saw two plane tickets posted on Tyler's social media.

[Just a minor cold but feeling down—my best friend immediately took me traveling to clear my head~]

The destination was Maldives—the place I had begged Rachel to go with me countless times.

Every time I brought it up, she would say our priority was saving money for marriage, not spending it on indulgences.

But when it came to Tyler, all talk of saving money vanished into thin air.

I let out a soft breath and wiped away my tears.

Then I remembered every visit to her parents' home, where I ran around serving the entire family without complaint.

Her mother would always press the family heirloom jade pendant into Tyler's hand, sighing again and again about how wonderful it would be if he and Rachel were a couple.

One incident after another. One moment after another.

I had always thought that as long as I loved Rachel enough, I could endure it all.

But now, I was exhausted.

If in their family's eyes I would always be an outsider, then from this moment on, I no longer wanted to wrong myself for anyone.

I went back to the villa that was supposed to be our marital home to pack my things and leave.

But the password lock on the front door failed again and again.

Just as I was about to call Rachel, the door opened from the inside.

Tyler stood there wearing my pajamas, arms crossed, his face full of annoyance.

"What are you doing here?"

Before I could even question him, Rachel arrived. She immediately pulled Tyler behind her as if shielding him, then explained hurriedly, "Ivan, don't misunderstand. Ever since I got pregnant, I've been sleeping lightly. Tyler moved into the villa so he could take care of me more conveniently."

"Besides, the lease on the apartment near the hospital hasn't expired yet. Why don't you keep staying there for now? Just make do for a bit. Once the baby is born and we get our marriage certificate, you can move back in."

I stared at her in disbelief.

"I paid half for this house too. On what grounds did you let him move in without my consent? And on what grounds do you get to decide where I live?"

What she didn't know was that this villa was worth far more than she imagined.

My father, unwilling to see me suffer, had covered eighty percent of the price in advance.