Chapter 3

The entire mansion was lit up throughout the night. Private doctors, nurses, and staff rushed in and out, all revolving around Rose. Amara lay in bed, listening to the commotion outside, remembering three years ago when she'd accidentally cut her finger while slicing apples. Gus had panicked as if she were dying, calling his private doctor in the middle of the night and insisting on bandaging her wound himself. She had laughed and said, "It's just a small cut." But Gus had taken her hand and kissed the wound softly. "I can't bear to see you hurt, not even a little." Now, he was showing that same tenderness to another woman. Amara turned over and buried her face in the pillow, tears soaking the fabric, but she bit her lip to keep from making a sound. She cried silently through the night until dawn broke, finally telling herself that once the tears dried up, it would be time to let go completely. … The next morning, Amara saw Gus sitting at the dining table when she came downstairs, patiently coaxing Rose to eat breakfast. "I really can't eat this…" Rose said coquettishly. "Just one more bite, okay?" Gus' voice carried that familiar indulgence Amara knew so well. "It's good for the baby." Amara walked past them expressionlessly. Gus looked up and suddenly noticed the scabbed wound on her forehead, quickly standing up. "Amara, what happened to your head?" Amara's lips curled into a sarcastic smile. "Don't you remember? You pushed me yourself." He froze, finally recalling yesterday's events. A flash of guilt soon crossed his face. "I'm sorry. I was too anxious yesterday… Let me put some ointment on it for you." Just as Amara was about to refuse, Rose suddenly piped up, "Mr. Manning, I can't eat any of this. I heard Ms. Pierce makes amazing chicken soup. Maybe she could make me some?" Gus was clearly stunned, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. "Amara…" he finally said. "I'd appreciate it if you could." Amara's heart felt crushed by an invisible fist. Chicken soup. Those two words cut through her like a dull blade, slicing open her memories. It was when Gus had just taken over the company and developed stomach problems from too much business entertaining. She had been so worried that she'd specifically sought out her grandmother's old recipe to learn how to make it properly. The first time she'd made it, the chicken had been tough and the broth too salty, but he'd finished every drop and held her close afterward. "Promise me you'll only make this for me, okay?" Over time, she'd perfected the recipe, and she truly had made it only for him. Now, he was asking her to make it for another woman. Amara suddenly smiled, the curve of her lips carrying an indescribable irony. So this was how promises worked? No matter how sincere they sounded in the moment, they couldn't withstand the erosion of time. She walked into the kitchen without a word, her movements practiced as she prepared the chicken and vegetables. The scalding steam made her eyes sting, but she didn't shed a single tear. The soup finished cooking quickly, its aroma filling the air. Amara ladled a bowl and placed it in front of Rose, then turned to leave. "Amara…" Gus instinctively called out to her, his voice carrying a note of guilt. But Rose immediately grabbed her sleeve. "Mr. Manning, this soup is so hot..." Gus' attention was instantly diverted as he bent down to help Rose cool the soup. "It'll be fine," he consoled himself inwardly. They'd remarry in a month anyway, and then he could make it up to her properly. Late that night, Amara had just fallen asleep when her bedroom door was suddenly kicked open. She opened her eyes to see Gus' security standing in the doorway. "Ma'am, sorry to disturb you, but we need to take you to the hospital. Boss' orders." Before she could react, they had grabbed her arms and pulled her from the bed. The hospital corridor was blindingly white. Gus stood outside the emergency room, his face terrifyingly dark. When he saw her arrive, his expression was complex. "Why did you poison the soup?" Amara was momentarily confused. "What?" "I've told you many times that I don't have feelings for Rose." Gus' voice was suppressed with rage. "Once the baby is born, we can go back to how things were. Why couldn't you just be patient a little longer?" Only then did Amara understand—Rose had been poisoned, and he suspected her. "It wasn't me," she said, her voice shaking. "Why do you automatically assume it was me whenever something happens to her?" "She only ate your soup today!" Gus' voice rose sharply. "What am I supposed to think?" Amara felt a sharp pain in her chest. Just as she was about to speak, the elevator doors opened, and Gus' parents hurried over. A hard blow struck Amara across the face. She staggered backward, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. "You evil woman!" Gus' mother, Celia Preston, shrieked. "It's bad enough that you can't give us children, but now you're trying to kill our grandchild!" Gus' father, Derek Manning, was equally furious. "She needs to face consequences for pulling something this twisted! Take her to the family chapel!" Gus frowned, about to speak. "If you don't deal with her now, she'll go after your child directly next time!" Celia snapped. Gus fell silent. He lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall, watching coldly as Amara was dragged away. In that moment, Amara felt her heart shatter completely.