Chapter 3

Damian Thorne rushed into the hospital like a madman, only to find chaos.

Outside Scarlett Reed's private room, a swarm of reporters crowded.

A horde of reporters, armed with cameras and microphones, were all aimed at the door, their questions more aggressive than the last.

"Ms. Reed, what exactly is your relationship with Mr. Thorne? Is the child you're carrying really his?"

"We all know Ms. Blackwood is the legitimate Mrs. Thorne. Are you the other woman, breaking up their marriage?"

"Rumors say you faked a car accident and miscarriage to frame Mrs. Thorne, just to marry into wealth. Is that true?"

Damian Thorne’s bodyguards struggled to hold them back, but it was no use.

He finally squeezed into the room, and Scarlett, as if she'd seen her savior, burst into tears and threw herself into his arms.

"Damian, what are they all talking about? I'm so scared…"

Her face was ghostly pale, her body trembling uncontrollably.

The metronome was still ticking on the bedside table, persistently sounding.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

Like a death knell, pounding on both their hearts.

Damian Thorne, furious, swept the metronome to the floor, smashing it to pieces.

But that damned piano music then blasted from the room's speakers again.

Like a vengeful ghost, it was inescapable, clinging to them.

"Sera Blackwood!" Damian Thorne gritted his teeth, looking like he wanted to rip me apart.

Only then did he realize that the background music throughout the entire VIP floor had been replaced with my 'masterpiece'.

He tried to turn it off, but found the central control system locked by me.

He wanted to transfer Scarlett to another hospital, but the director, with a troubled expression, told him that due to "unexpected" circuit maintenance, all elevators were out of service.

And Scarlett, having just undergone embryo transplantation, was too frail to endure such a commotion.

They were trapped here.

Trapped in the musical hell I had created for them.

"Damian, I'm so scared…" Scarlett trembled even more. "Our baby… he'll be fine, right?"

Damian Thorne held her, his voice dry and hoarse.

"He'll be fine, Scarlett, don't believe that lunatic's words, she's just trying to scare us."

He offered comforting words, but the seeds of doubt and fear I'd planted were already taking root in his mind.

He immediately called Dr. Miller, who had performed Scarlett's surgery.

Dr. Miller was a student my mother had sponsored during her lifetime, and he was loyal to me.

Following my prior instructions, he told Damian Thorne with a troubled expression:

"Mr. Thorne, I'm truly sorry, but before the lab results are in, according to regulations, I cannot guarantee you anything."

"What do you mean?"

"It means that, medically speaking, there is indeed a possibility of embryo contamination before implantation."

Damian Thorne’s heart sank.

He looked at Scarlett's tear-streaked face, his eyes filled with pain.

"Don't worry, I'll make her pay for this."

Meanwhile, I was comfortably seated in the living room of the old estate, enjoying the hospital drama unfolding on the tablet Mr. Davies handed me.

I raised my wine glass, making a silent toast to Damian Thorne on the screen.

"Don't rush. This is just the beginning."

"The pain you made me suffer, I will return to you a thousandfold."

My phone rang. It was Damian Thorne.

His voice was tightly controlled, like a volcano about to erupt.

"Sera Blackwood, where are you? Get out here! We need to talk!"

I smiled.

"Alright."

"Come to the Blackwood estate. I'll be waiting."

"I'd like to see what right you have to talk to me now."