Chapter 5

The next time Arya opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was the sharp scent of antiseptic.

Armie stood beside her bed.

"Oh, you're awake?" he asked with suspicious warmth. "Good. Tomorrow is Grandma's birthday party. Nancy will be there too. You know what to do, right?"

A bitter smile tugged at Arya's lips.

For eight years, Armie had never treated her with even basic decency. He had not even visited her after she gave birth to Millie. He simply could not have cared less about her.

Now, after all this time, he had finally come to see her only because he wanted her to make Nancy's time at Gloria's birthday party easier.

Arya's throat tightened with unshed tears, leaving her unable to answer. It did not matter anyway. He took her silence as an opportunity to continue.

"If you manage to stop Grandma from harassing Nancy, I'll forgive Millie for her transgression and let her come home.

"I'll also have someone set up a trust fund in Millie's name. The two of you will never have to worry about money again. I promise."

It was the same as always. Armie acted like a feudal lord, while Arya was less his wife than a homeless woman after his money.

The humiliation he had inflicted on her over the years had already exceeded her limit. She no longer had the heart to remind him that Millie had already been cremated.

Any strength or determination she had left to avenge her daughter or scream her hatred at him had long since disappeared.

Her heart had died.

In a weary voice, she said, "Millie doesn't need your forgiveness or a trust fund. Just leave."

Armie assumed she had finally stopped insisting on her so-called lie.

Disgust and contempt deepened in his eyes. "You'd better not disappoint me tomorrow."

Arya wanted to tell him then and there that she had no intention of attending the party. Before the words could leave her mouth, however, her phone buzzed with a text from Gloria.

Gloria: [You'll come to my birthday tomorrow, won't you? Let it be our last time together. A proper farewell.]

Gloria was the only member of the Simmons family who had ever truly cared about her and Millie.

"Fine. I'll attend, but not for you or Nancy," Arya said at last.

Armie assumed she was simply playing hard to get. "Pfft. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

…

It was Gloria's birthday, yet none of Arya's injuries had healed.

She was still exhausted, and the last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself. She found a quiet corner where no one would notice her and sat alone while Armie and Nancy openly flaunted their affection.

They danced through song after song. They performed piano duets together. They even fed each other desserts while the guests watched in fascination.

Gloria looked ready to explode, but Arya gently stopped her. "It's not worth ruining your birthday over me, Grandma. At your age, it's better to stay calm."

Besides, Arya felt nothing anymore. Whatever feelings she had once harbored for Armie had died and been cremated alongside her daughter. Those two could be as intimate as they pleased, and it would no longer affect her life.

The emptiness on Arya's face broke the old woman's heart. With a quiet sigh, Gloria invited her to the study to sign the wealth division agreement.

Nancy was already waiting outside the study.

The sweet, gentle mask she always wore in public vanished the moment she saw them.

Gloria flew into a rage. She raised her cane to strike Nancy. "What are you doing here? The Simmons family never wanted you, so get out!"

Nancy caught the cane with ease before shoving the old woman backward.

"Shut up, you ancient bitch," she said flatly. "If it weren't for your meddling, Armie and I wouldn't have been forced apart for so many years. You're the problem. An old hag like you should've died long ago, just like that little bastard the bitch gave birth to."

Arya's heart lurched.

There was something in Nancy's eyes, a dangerous kind of madness.

Arya reacted too late.

Nancy shoved Gloria down the staircase.

The old woman tumbled down the steps and slammed into the wall. The impact knocked a vase off a nearby shelf. It crashed onto her head, and within minutes, blood soaked through her hair.

Horror and fury surged through Arya. "What the fuck?! Are you insane?! That's Armie's grandmother!"

Nancy grinned. "Oh, don't worry. You're next."

She suddenly slapped herself across the face with all her strength before ripping open the collar of her dress.

"Help! Arya killed someone!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

The guests immediately rushed toward the commotion.

Armie reached Nancy first and quickly wrapped his overcoat around her shoulders.

Then his gaze landed on Gloria's unconscious, blood-covered body.

"I just wanted to say hello to your grandmother, Armie..." Nancy sobbed. "T-Then I saw Arya push her down the stairs... and then she attacked me. She tried to..."

She did not need to finish.

The guests had already made up their minds.

"I heard Mrs. Simmons has problems with her husband, but did she really take it out on an innocent old woman just because she's his grandmother?"

"If she'd murder the guest of honor while we're all here, imagine what she'd do when no one's watching."

"My God. I feel terrible for Mr. Simmons. He married a she-devil."

Disgust, contempt, and vicious accusations rained down on Arya.

Reeling, she stumbled backward. "No! It wasn't me! It was Nancy! She did it!"

Armie roared as he clamped a crushing grip around her wrist, "Enough! She has done nothing but treat you with kindness. She's defended you, looked after you, and even coddled you. And this is how you repay her?

"You're rotten, disgusting, and insane. Even now, you're still trying to blame Nancy. You're still throwing around lies and baseless accusations against her.

"I had no idea you were capable of something this depraved, Arya. I never knew you were this fucking blackhearted!"

He thundered, "If anything happens to my grandmother... you'll die that very same day!"

He shoved her aside before ordering the maids and butler to get Gloria to the hospital.

Arya slammed into the corner of a table. Pain shot through her body, but she could not afford to think about it. She had to clear her name. She could not bear the thought of being branded a murderer.

She hurried toward the estate's exit but was immediately stopped by Armie's security guards.

"Arya Simmons?" one of them said. "I'm afraid you're not permitted to leave the premises. Mr. Simmons has ordered us to detain you because he believes you're mentally unstable and require intensive psychiatric treatment."