Chapter 4

Sylvia trembled all over as she confronted Weston. "Did you call the police?" He didn't bother to hide it from the guests. He nodded. "That's right. You framed Elaine, and I have to see that she gets justice. Didn't you want the truth? This is the truth!" His voice was like a damp, icy mist. It flooded straight into Sylvia's heart. Elaine clung to his arm, practically melting into his embrace. With an air of generosity, though her tone still dropped with affection, she pleaded, "Wes, let it go. I believe Vivi must have her reasons. If this gets dragged to the station, her whole life will be ruined. "This will affect you and the company, too. I'd rather we just put an end to it here," she said, her eyes shining with devotion. "I don't want anyone speaking ill of you because of me." Weston pinched her cheek with a smile. "Don't worry. Lowe Group won't be shaken by this. I only pressed this issue because I couldn't stand seeing you wronged." Sylvia felt like she was cut off from their world. It felt as if the storm she was weathering had nothing to do with them. "Ms. York, please come with us." Sylvia was handcuffed in front of the crowd. She was taken straight to the station. The basement of the station was damp and reeked. She was ordered to strip so they could check for contraband, and was forced to take a urine test under watchful eyes. Shame and humiliation closed in on her. She curled into a corner of the holding room. "Sylvia York, you are accused of theft and will be held in detention for seven days. You'll be transferred to the detention center today." "Officer!" she screamed, breaking every shred of her pride. "I didn't steal anything! Please, check the surveillance footage. I'm innocent!" "I'm sorry, but the evidence is clear. Witnesses and material proof were all in order," the officer replied flatly. No matter how much she pleaded, she was locked away. Sylvia, who had grown up pampered in the York family, had never encountered thugs or criminals before. Her days inside the cell felt like a lifetime's worth of torment. Insults and beatings became a routine. Hunger and exhaustion wore her down until she grew frail in body and mind. Cleaning toilets and folding blankets became her only survival skill. She thought obedience might earn her peace, but she was wrong. Her tormentors weren't just her cellmates, but guards as well. Only then did she realize that someone had already put in a word, demanding that she be taught a lesson. They forced her on all fours, made her bark like a dog, and ground her face in filth. When she resisted, her left arm was snapped. If not for being discovered in time and rushed to treatment, she would have died in that cell. Seven days dragged on like 70 years. When she finally walked out the fates, even breathing made her chest shudder in pain. She was skin and bone. A gust of wind was enough to blow her away. "If it isn't Vivi." A mocking voice rang out. Sylvia slowly raised her head to meet Elaine's triumphant gaze. She licked her cracked lips and continued walking. "Wes is busy buying me mille-feuille from the west side of town," Elaine added sweetly. "He won't be coming." Sylvia ignored her. "Sylvia!" Elaine screamed. "I don't know why you keep clinging to Wes. With a record like yours, do you really think you're still worthy of being Mrs. Lowe?" Sylvia stopped. She stared at Elaine like she was looking at something lifeless. "What makes you more worthy than me?" "It doesn't matter if you have his last name. Wes' body and heart belong to me. If it weren't for… circumstances, he would've married me long ago! You should take a hint and leave." "Sure," Sylvia said. "What d-did you say?" Elaine stammered. "I'll do as you wish. I'll leave Weston." Sylvia's gaze locked onto Elaine's. Elaine's eyes lit with delight. "You mean it?" She pulled a divorce agreement from the car, Weston's signature already on it. "Sign it, and I'll believe you." Sylvia scrawled her name without hesitation. Capping the pen, her eyes brushed the inside of the car. A few syringes glinted in the shadows. She turned and left. Elaine's breath caught. She glanced from the syringes to Sylvia's retreating figure, her expression hardening with venom.