She’s lost her mind.

Scoffing under his breath, Duke looked up slowly, disbelief and fury colliding in his expression. “You expect me to-”

“To accept it?” she cut in, her voice raw but steady. “Yes. Because, like it or not, this changes everything. You think Rose will forgive you after this? Her son is dead... Her husband is in another woman’s bed. And that woman is carrying his heir?” She laughed bitterly, her tears streaking through her makeup. “You think she’ll ever take you back? You don't have that kind of power here... be for real.”

Duke clenched his fists. “You talk about power like you understand it.”

“Oh, I understand it,” Lisa hissed. “Rose is power. She made you. She built your name, gave you the company, the reputation, the life you show off to the world. Without her, you’re just another man living off her fortune.” She took a shaky step closer, her eyes dark and wild. “And she can strip it all away. Every last bit. You think she’ll let you keep your title after what you’ve done?”

He stared at her, voice low and venomous. “And you? You think you’re safe?”

“No,” she said quietly. “Not unless we’re on the same side.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Think, Duke,” Lisa urged, her tone trembling between fear and calculation. “She’s weak right now, shattered. Grief makes people dangerous. If you try to crawl back to her, she’ll destroy you the moment she regains her strength. But if we act now, before she recovers, before she remembers how powerful she is, we could stop her. Take control. Protect what’s ours.”

He gave a humorless laugh. “You mean your protection. You’re terrified of her.”

Lisa’s eyes flared. “I’m terrified of what she’ll do to you, to me, to our child. If you hesitate, if you let guilt cloud your judgment, she’ll come back harder. And when she does, she’ll take everything.”

Duke’s laugh cracked like glass. “You really are dangerous.”

Her voice broke. “I’m desperate.”

He looked at her for a long time, the silence thick with everything unsaid, guilt, disgust, and something that might’ve been pity. “All this time,” he murmured. “I thought I was the one using you.”

Lisa’s tearful smile was almost a confession. “You were never the one in control, Duke. You just didn’t want to see it.”

He exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening as he turned toward the window. Beyond the glass, the city lights shimmered like a thousand quiet witnesses.

“Then I suppose,” he said softly, “we’re both damned.”

As the silence settled, Lisa’s heels clicked softly against the marble as she crossed the distance between them.

For a moment, Duke didn’t move, just stood there, framed by the window’s pale light, his reflection fractured in the glass.

She stopped behind him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his back.

“Damned,” she repeated, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Maybe. But at least we’ll be damned together.”

He turned slightly, his eyes catching hers. For the first time that night, there was no rage left, only exhaustion. Guilt. Something hollowed and human.

Lisa lifted a trembling hand, brushing a strand of hair from his temple. He didn’t pull away.

Her touch lingered there, hesitant at first… then steadier, as if testing the line between comfort and control.

When she leaned in, her breath trembled against his lips, soft, searching, almost afraid. For a heartbeat, he didn’t respond.

And then, slowly, his hands slid around her waist, pulling her into him. As his mouth met hers, roughly biting on her bottom lip as his hand grabbed onto her neck, squeezing it while sucking the taste of blood from her tongue, a small whimper escaped her. The fingers of his other hand found her breast, stroking gently until her breathing sped up. Then they traveled lower, slipping beneath the hem of her dress to find her skin.

'You could never rough-handled her like this... That's why you always come running back to me. But this time, there's no escape for you. You are mine now, and she's about to get the hell she deserves."

At the Zhou mansion

Sirens wailed somewhere beyond the wrought-iron gates, faint at first, then swelling into the cold air. Headlights washed over the front lawn as the ambulance screeched to a halt.

By the time the paramedics reached the second floor, Doctor Han was already there, his coat thrown over his shoulders, his face drawn and grey. The moment he stepped into Eli’s room, he saw Rose sitting on the floor beside the bed, her son cradled in her arms as if warming him could call him back. The nightlight’s golden glow caught the sheen of tears on her cheeks.

“Lady Sallow,” the doctor said softly, kneeling beside her. “Please, let us-”

She shook her head violently. “Don’t touch him. He’s just sleeping. He’s just tired, that’s all.”

“Ma’am,” one of the medics murmured, voice breaking. “We need to check his vitals.”

Rose’s grip tightened. “He hates needles,” she whispered. “You’ll wake him, he’ll cry-”

“Rose,” Doctor Han said, gentler now. He reached forward, resting a hand on her trembling shoulder. “Let me help him.”

Her gaze met his, vacant and shining. Slowly, she loosened her hold enough for the medic to place a stethoscope against Eli’s small chest. The room held its breath.

A long, empty pause. Then the medic exhaled, eyes lowering.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

The words landed like stones. Rose didn’t move, didn’t even blink, as the world folded in on itself.

Minutes later, they spoke quietly, protocols, paperwork, removal of the body, but she barely heard them.

Finally, when they lifted Eli from her arms, she lunged forward, a cry tearing from her throat.

“No! Don’t take him! Don’t take my baby, please!”

For a moment, Doctor Han stood frozen, watching, then he sighed, pulled out his phone, and stepped into the hallway, a longer distance from the room. His voice was low, deliberate.

“She’s refusing to let them take the body. She’s… not herself, Lisa. The grief... It’s broken her. I think she’s lost her mind.”

There was a small silence, then Lisa’s voice came through, smooth and composed. "Good, keep her there and don't let them leave."

"Why?" Doctor Han mumbled.

"Duke and I are on our way."