Chapter 2 You're Ruthless

"Mrs. Blackwood, go back first. I'll speak with you about this later." Rowan Blackwood ended the call, his brow deeply furrowed, eyes clouded with worry and urgency—emotions that, this time, were not meant for his wife. Marielle Duvall pushed him away, her touch ice-cold. "Go ahead. After all, she matters more to you than I do." Her heart bled in silence. Rowan seemed poised to speak, but the words never came. Instead, he hailed a taxi, helped her inside, and disappeared into the night without another word. Marielle could only offer a bitter smile. What was the point of clinging to a marriage with a man whose heart belonged elsewhere? Back home, the servants greeted her warmly, but she walked past them as if deaf to their words. She stood in their bedroom—its stark black-and-white palette untouched by any trace of her presence—and suddenly felt like the greatest fool alive. Her marriage had become nothing but a farce. It was time to end it. Marielle waited for Rowan all night. Not a single call came. That silence pierced her heart like a thousand needles. "Baby, I'm sorry," she whispered to her unborn child. "Mommy can't give you a complete family. But don't worry—I'll love you twice as much to make up for it." Tears streamed down her face as she signed the divorce papers she had printed the night before. Each stroke of her pen carved a fresh wound into her soul. After signing, she removed the wedding ring Rowan had given her and placed it gently atop the divorce agreement. Once, she had treasured this ring above all else. For three years, it had left its mark on her finger. Now, though she had taken it off, the indent remained—just like her love for Rowan, an indelible trace that refused to fade. Marielle pitied herself. Afraid she might lose her resolve, she packed her bags and left the house. "Mrs. Blackwood, Miss Vaughn is unwell. Mr. Blackwood is with her. He's instructed us to send you abroad immediately." The moment she stepped outside, Rowan's bodyguard blocked her path. His words ignited a firestorm of rage in her chest. "Why should I go? I refuse!" "I'm sorry, Mrs. Blackwood, but Mr. Blackwood said you have no choice." The bodyguard struck without warning, knocking her unconscious before dragging her into a waiting car. She was taken to an abandoned warehouse, stripped bare, and positioned beside a hired man who touched her while a camera captured every degrading pose. "Miss Vaughn, everything's been arranged." After the staged photographs were taken, the man called Selina Vaughn. Selina's laugh was cold as winter. "Perfect. Upload those images online immediately. Let's see if Rowan dares keep a wife who's been framed for adultery. Once it's done, erase every trace." "Understood." The man hung up, doused the warehouse in gasoline, and struck a match. Flames erupted, roaring toward the sky. The heat became suffocating, unbearable. Marielle woke to find herself surrounded by fire. Smoke choked her lungs as the flames advanced mercilessly. "Help! Someone help me!" Forgetting her nakedness, she grabbed a piece of debris and pounded desperately at the warehouse door. Then she heard the bodyguard's voice from outside. "Mrs. Blackwood, I'm sorry. These were Mr. Blackwood's orders. Rest in peace. He'll choose a beautiful burial plot for you." Marielle froze. Rowan had ordered her death? Why? Because she was pregnant, just like Selina Vaughn? Because he wanted Selina to become Mrs. Blackwood so their child could be born legitimate? *Rowan Blackwood, you're so cruel!* *Can't you even tolerate your own flesh and blood?* Overwhelming grief crushed her spirit. She raised her face to the smoke-filled sky and released a cry of pure anguish. "Rowan Blackwood, I hate you! In this life, I must have been blind to love a man as heartless as you. If there is a next life, I swear I will make you taste what it feels like to be destroyed by the one you love!" The roaring flames swallowed her voice. Her breathing grew shallow, her eyelids impossibly heavy. She collapsed as the fire seared her skin and consumed her very soul... **Five Years Later** Victor Langley placed a file on Rowan Blackwood's desk. "Mr. Blackwood, this is the designer's profile from Argentum Group. She's arriving in Nexopolis today. Should we arrange transportation? She's world-renowned—her sports cars are beyond price. Without our partnership with Argentum Group, they never would have sent her for consultation." "Marla?" Rowan's eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes, Designer Marla." Victor nodded eagerly. Designer Marla had risen to international fame over the past two years. Her debut creation, the Aetherion, claimed first prize at the International Design Awards. Even before its official release, it was coveted by elite collectors worldwide. Rumor had it she produced only two units, each priced astronomically—yet countless people still begged for the privilege of ownership. Now, thanks to their partnership with Argentum Group, Marla was coming personally to Nexopolis. Knowing Rowan's passion for luxury sports cars, Victor thought it wise to mention her arrival. If Horizon Corp could retain her services, then... Rowan's eyes narrowed further. He took the file and scanned it casually, but froze the moment he saw Marla's Chinese name.