Chapter 2

The assistant, Mr. Davies, looked pained:

“But that competition spot originally belonged to your wife, Ellie! She was once the most brilliant surgeon in the country, and becoming Dr. Reed’s disciple was *her* dream too. You deliberately had her hands crippled, making her lose her eligibility.”

“Your wife worked tirelessly for ten years to get that spot. Is this truly fair to her?”

“Fair? What’s fair about it? Her hands are useless anyway. She’s just a cripple; she can’t compete. Period.”

Mr. Davies still hesitated:

“But you spent thirty million just to get Ms. Thorne a substitute spot, and then another two hundred million to bribe the organizers for the competition questions. If news gets out that you helped her cheat, your reputation and the company’s stock will suffer incalculable losses.”

Julian looked annoyed:

“Enough! From the moment I met Briana, I decided I’d do anything for her. Since I couldn’t make her choose me, then I'll do everything in my power to lift her dreams. As long as Briana is happy, what’s a little reputation or stock loss?”

“Briana *must* win that competition. Only then can she become Dr. Reed’s disciple. As for Eleanor… if she’s crippled, then she’s crippled. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to her.”

Outside the door, I trembled, recording everything on my phone, then stumbled downstairs.

So, the patient’s family member who stabbed me and severed my tendons, who crushed four of my fingers all those years ago—he was acting on Julian’s orders!

He saved me, he married me, not out of love, but to keep me penned up like a sacrificial lamb, ready to be offered up for his beloved woman whenever needed.

I had survived, but both my hands were useless, and four fingers had been amputated.

Now, I could barely even hold a fork, let alone pick up a scalpel again.

But I never imagined that behind all of this was my own husband’s meticulous scheme.

The thought that while I lay there in a pool of my own blood, my dreams shattered and my heart filled with utter despair, he might have been lurking in the shadows, savoring his 'achievement'—it sent shivers down my spine that I couldn't control.

The scars on my wrists throbbed faintly, my hands trembling uncontrollably.

A glass slipped from my grip and shattered on the floor, the sound drawing Julian’s attention.

He instantly swept me into his arms, protecting me from stepping on the shards. His voice was full of feigned concern:

“Ellie, I’ve told you countless times, in this house, *I* am your hands. Whatever you need, just tell me, and I’ll get it for you.”

“Or there’s Mrs. Gable. Your hands aren’t fully healed yet. What if you make them worse? Do you want to break my heart?”

I instinctively reached for the gloves on the bar.

Julian stopped me, gently lifting my mutilated, grotesque hands, and kissed the scars where my fingers had been amputated.

“Ellie, with me, you never need to feel inferior, and you certainly don’t need to wear gloves to hide yourself. I love you, and I love everything about you.”

“I only regret that I arrived too late. Otherwise, your hands wouldn't be like this, and you wouldn't have lost your dream of being a doctor. Don't worry, I will take good care of you.”

His tone and gaze were so tender, yet his words filled my heart with immeasurable sorrow.

The deep affection and salvation I thought I’d found were nothing but his elaborate disguise.

I forced a smile:

“Don’t say that. You did your best.”

“You’ve worked hard. Go back to the bedroom first; I’ll ask Mrs. Gable to warm some milk for you.”

I secretly put two sleeping pills in the milk, and after Julian fell asleep, I went to the villa’s garage. I intended to check the dash cam, but accidentally brushed against a button in the corner.

The floor tiles beneath me flipped open, revealing a downward staircase. Beneath it lay a hidden room.

The room was secured by an electronic lock. On the small screen, there was a heart-shaped sticker with pictures of Briana and Julian. As expected, the password was Briana’s birthday.