"Lionel, if you ask me, you should just make this whole charade official and divorce Hannah Green for good."


    "He''s right. And I bet Sandra''s car crash wasn''t a simple ident. Now that her brother''s gone, who knows what''ll happen to her."


    The moment Hannah heard Lionel Rosenberg was in the hospital, she jumped in her car and raced over.


    When she arrived, the elevators were packed, so she took the stairs, climbing ten flights without a second thought. Just as she was about to push open the fire escape door, she heard familiar voices.


    The man in the center had deep-set eyes, a shadow of mncholy passing through them. His thin lips were pressed into a line as he held a cigarette between long, elegant fingers, tapping the ash away.


    He remained silent for a few seconds before murmuring, "We''ll see."


    "We''ll see''? Come on, Lionel, you''re too soft-hearted. So what if Hannah saved your life back then? You paid her a million dors, didn''t you? And what did she do? She drugged you, crawled into your bed, and forced you to marry her. I''m telling you, that woman is up to no good!"


    Lionel took a long drag from his cigarette, his gaze lifting to notice the silhouette behind the door.


    The other two men followed his line of sight and saw Hannah, who had arrived at some point without them noticing.


    Her hand, pressed against the door, trembled uncontrobly. Strands of hair, damp with sweat, clung to her forehead. Her delicate, pale face was flushed, her lips parted as she struggled to catch her breath.


    She took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and walked straight to Lionel. Tilting her head back, she met his cold, indifferent eyes. "You said you were in the hospital."


    A wave of snickers rippled through the air, and the humiliating truth crashed down on her: she had been yed.


    "Sign this," Lionel said, ignoring her question as he thrust a document in front of her.


    Hannah''s eyes fell to the words on the page, and her brow furrowed instantly. She looked up at him, her gaze steady.


    His expression was impassive as he stubbed out his cigarette. "Sandra just made it through surgery. Sign this. It''s just for show, to calm her down."


    When she didn''t react, he added, "That ne you wanted? I''ll have it delivered in a few days."


    Hannah''s eyes narrowed slightly, a soft, bitterugh escaping her lips. Without a word, she took the pen he offered.


    As she poised the pen to sign, her hand hesitated. The name already written beside the line for her signature seared her eyes.


    Five years ago, gravely ill and vulnerable, Lionel had been beaten half to death by a group of street thugs and left to die in the snow. It was she who had found him, she who had rushed him to the hospital.


    She had spent over half a month''s sry to save his life, staying by his side, and emptying her savings to support his fledgling business.


    In less than two years, Lionel had be a rising star in the business world.


    When the Rosenberg family finally


    found him, he had looked at her with


    unwavering conviction and


    promised to marry her. But she never expected him to t h?nor an old arranged marriage, to take Sandra Woods as his wife instead.


    On the eve of his wedding, she was framed, painted as the viin who drugged him and forced him into marriage.


    She thought that by refusing to go through with the ceremony, Lionel''s anger would subside. Instead, her refusal was met with his venomous words "As you wish.


    marry you, but you''ll regret it for the rest of your life!


    Three years of marriage. No wedding, no ceremony. To the world, he was an


    unmarried, single man. He never touched her.


    She knew. Lionel hated her with every fiber of his being.


    "What are you waiting for?" Lionel''s voice cut through her thoughts. He saw the unshed tears glistening in her reddened eyes and nudged papers toward her told you, it''s just to appease her. Sign it."


    Hannah''s breath hitched. She thought her heart had long grown numb to the pain,


    but his words sent a fresh, sharp pang through her chest.


    Hershes fluttered as she signed her name, one deliberate stroke at a time. Staring at their two names on the document, she asked with a strange sense of release, "How is Sandra?"


    Lionel reached out and snatched the papers from her.


    Hannah held on tightly, a barely perceptible sneer on her lips. "Since this is to reassure her, wouldn''t it be more convincing if I gave it to her myself?"


    Lionel considered this for a moment. "Don''t say anything you shouldn''t."


    What shouldn''t be said? What should?


    She didn''t understand, and she didn''t want to. She quietly followed Lionel to the VIP suite.