Caroline let out a soft chuckle, light and detached.
"Crazy? Maybe I am. But love doesn’t need to make sense. This case is over. Don’t bring it up again."
"What about Victor?" her colleague pressed. "You brought him back and let him live under the same roof as the man who killed his parents. He trusts you. He loves you—"
Before the sentence could finish, Caroline’s eyes turned cold.
"Enough," she said sharply. "I have already told you—Karl is not the murderer."
"And if someone must be held accountable, then I’ll take the fall. I’ll pay with my life if I have to."
A beat of silence. Then a sigh.
"I don’t get you at all. There’s evidence. Motive. But you just—"
The voice trailed off in defeat.
"Forget it. Do what you want."
Their footsteps faded down the hallway.
I stumbled back into my room, heart pounding, hands shaking.
The blood-soaked memory of my parents’ death five years ago surged forward—raw and merciless.
Our company crumbled in the aftermath.
Back then, it was Caroline who reached out to me, the one person who didn't turn away.
She cleared my debts. She brought me into the Baker Family.
I thought I had found salvation. A second chance in life. Maybe even love.
But now I know the truth:
It was all a lie.
She didn’t bring me back out of love.
She brought me back to keep me close—
To watch me. To protect him.
Everything—our marriage, our smiles, her warmth—
It was guilt wrapped in charity.
And like a fool, I took it. I embraced it. I even showed it off like it was something to be proud of.
How laughable.
The door clicked shut. Her colleague was gone.
A moment later, Caroline entered the room.
Her steps were unsteady. Her eyes… unreadable.
She knelt beside me, cupped my face gently and pressed a kiss on my forehead.
Her drunken eyes shimmered with pain.
“Why are you standing by the door?” she asked, voice soft and slightly slurred.
“It’s nothing,” I replied gently. “I brought you some hangover soup but ended up spilling it by accident.”
She frowned slightly. “You should’ve let the nanny handle that. You’ve been exhausted lately. Get some rest, or I’ll feel even worse.”
Then she leaned in and kissed me on the lips.
The gesture was as tender and familiar as always.
But I couldn’t feel her warmth anymore.
It’s true—one person really can give up everything for another.
I closed my eyes, and a tear slipped silently down my cheek.