Jealousy Burns

The moment the fireworks collided with the hydrogen balloon, I was instantly swallowed by a roaring blaze.

Thick, choking smoke stung my lungs, which made breathing almost impossible. I forced myself to stay calm despite the searing pain in my lower abdomen and back.

"Larissa… it hurts so much…"

Following the faint cry for help, I spotted Oliver Patton collapsed in a pool of blood. He was clutching his chest in agony.

The eldest grandson of the Patton family—he had recently returned home after being kidnapped. He was just a child.

While dragging my heavy body forward, I shielded him with my own. I knew how fragile he was, especially with his heart condition.

"It's okay. I'm here." I pulled out one of my earrings and stabbed it into my thigh to stay conscious, my voice soft as I comforted him. "I won't let anything happen to you."

My hands froze mid-CPR when a luxury car suddenly sped toward us.

The door flew open, slamming into me and knocking me aside. The man who rushed out straight toward Rita Atkinson was none other than my husband, Milton Jenning.

Even though he saw his wife covered in blood, he didn't hesitate for a second.

He rushed to Rita's side and held her in his arms, inspecting her from head to toe. In this second life of mine, his heart still belonged entirely to someone else.

The burning pain in my abdomen flared—like a snake made of fire sinking its fangs into me.

From behind me, the sickening scent of burnt flesh filled the air. The wound from before hadn't healed, and now it was worse. Cold sweat dripped down my face.

"Mr. Jenning! Mrs. Jenning is bleeding badly!"

His assistant panicked, instinctively running toward me with a bandage in hand.

But Milton stopped him with a look of pure disgust.

"She set off fireworks in a public area. Who knows what kind of disaster could've happened if Rita hadn't warned me?"

Tears streamed down my face.

Of course, Milton had always believed every word Rita said.

He ignored my cries for help. All the top doctors he brought were attending to Rita. He'd even blacklisted me from every hospital.

In this life, I had completely given up on him.

While continuing CPR on Oliver, I secretly reached out to the Patton family.

After the reunion, they'd been terrified of losing him again and had assigned an entire security team to protect him.

We'd gotten separated in the chaos earlier, but I believed they'd arrive any minute now.

A stray ember landed on my arm, and as I lifted it, a layer of skin tore clean off.

The assistant let out a sharp cry and looked anxiously at Milton.

"Mr. Jenning, Mrs. Jenning just had a skin graft. Now she's suffering from severe burns again…"

Because Rita had intentionally burned her arm, Milton had dragged me onto the operating table and forced me to undergo surgery to make up for it.

At the memory, a sharp cramp shot through my lower abdomen.

The doctors who had been fawning over Rita sneered.

"You're defending her this much—what, got some shady relationship going on?"

"She brought this on herself. Throwing tantrums and threatening suicide over some love rivalry with Ms. Atkinson—everyone knows the Jenning family's wife is vicious."

Through it all, Milton didn't spare me a single glance. He said nothing, silently endorsing the abuse with his silence.

"Mr. Jenning, Larissa has a baby in her belly. Please… save her."

Oliver, weak and trembling in my arms, turned to the one man he thought could help. His innocent concern made my throat tighten.

In our last life, he wouldn't have suffered that sudden heart attack if it weren't for me.

I grabbed the hem of Milton's coat, my voice trembling with desperation. "He's the Patton family's eldest grandson."

But Milton just shrugged off his jacket and tossed it aside, his eyes filled with cold disgust.

"Everyone knows the Patton heir went missing years ago. Where'd you pick up this stay?"

Then, without warning, he drove his shoe into my stomach. "Drop the act. I always used protection. There's no way you're pregnant."

Before the venom in his words had fully settled, Rita let out a pained moan. Milton became anxious instantly. He rushed to her side, scooping her into his arms and whispering gentle comforts.

I let out a bitter, hollow laugh. Blood mixed with pus from my infected wounds pooled beneath me.

How absurd—my husband, tenderly comforting his mistress right in front of his pregnant wife.

The assistant tried to make excuses for Milton, but I shook my head.

Not long ago, my father had fought off human traffickers to save Oliver, sacrificing his life in the process.

I had begged Milton to attend the funeral. He scoffed and said my dad stuck his nose where it didn't belong, then spent the holiday celebrating with Rita.

That night, the one meant for reunion, I stayed alone in the mourning hall and cried beside my father's casket.

"Oh, I missed the holiday with you, and now you want to go commit arson?" Milton's gaze turned sharp, and his voice rose with fury.

"If anything happens to Rita, you and that so-called child of yours won't walk away either!"

Just before he left to take Rita to the hospital, he tossed a handkerchief onto my head. "Wipe your face. You're disgusting."