Chapter 6

The doctor noticed Emily's dislocated knuckles and quickly looked up at Alexander. "Mr. Grant, Ms. Summers' finger is broken."

Alexander let out a cold, humorless laugh. "She's faking it, and you actually believe her?"

The doctor wanted to say more, but thought better of it.

Emily could only watch helplessly as the scalpel cut through her flesh. The pain—raw and unfiltered without anesthesia—shot through her nerves like lightning. Every inch of skin peeled away made her convulse uncontrollably.

The agony was unbearable. She nearly blacked out, her body shaking violently, while only a few steps away, Alexander was tenderly wiping the sweat from Sophie's forehead as the woman slept peacefully.

There was a time when he'd treated her that way, too

But now, for another woman, he had sent her to prison, slapped her, poured acid on her, broken her fingers with his own hands, and let others skin her alive.

Indeed, she had been mistaken.

After what felt like an eternity, the brutal operation finally ended.

But Alexander didn't even give her a chance to recover. His voice was cold, cutting through the silence. "Take her to the basement. She stays there until I get home."

Before she could react, the bodyguards dragged her away like trash.

This time, Emily didn't cry or scream. She just stared blankly at Alexander, still sitting nearby, tenderly stroking Sophie's hair. It felt like something inside her had died completely.

Life in the basement was nothing short of torture—pitch black, no food, no water, her skinned hand left untreated and festering in the damp air.

Her wound turned septic, and pus and blood were dripping from her wrist. She screamed for help until her voice went hoarse, but nobody came.

Out of desperation, she tried invoking Alexander's name to scare the guards into helping, but they only sneered.

"Mr. Grant? He's long gone. Took Ms. Lane overseas for a little vacation. What are you, the queen? He tossed you out ages ago. Even if you die down here, don't expect him to pick up your corpse."

Now, she was nothing but a discarded wife.

The next few days were a nightmare. She could only watch as her hand rotted beyond recognition, broken knuckles warping into grotesque, twisted angles that didn't even look human.

The fever hit her so hard that she couldn't tell dreams from reality anymore. She thought she'd rot away in this hole, forgotten and alone.

Then, out of nowhere, Margaret appeared. She yanked Emily up from the basement and threw a set of divorce papers in her face, her expression filled with disgust.

"Time's up. Here's the divorce certificate. Get out," Margaret said icily.

Emily forced herself to move through the pain, picked up the papers, and whispered faintly, "Okay."

Margaret's eyes flicked to Emily's mangled hand, her lip curling in scorn. "You got exactly what you deserved."

Emily stiffened. Yeah, she deserved it.

Aside from Lily's ashes, there was nothing left here she cared about.

Just as she stepped toward the door, Margaret's voice rang out behind her. "I knew Alexander was seeing another woman. I didn't say a word. I wanted to watch your daughter die and your marriage fall apart.

"Now that you two are divorced, I've already found Alexander someone who actually fits our family's status. Once you're gone, I'll deal with that little homewrecker myself, and Alexander can get over you and move on."

Emily paused for a long moment, tears streaming silently down her face. But she didn't look back.

After nearly two weeks of luxury overseas, Alexander took Sophie to an exclusive auction on their last night abroad.

Every time Sophie's gaze lingered on something, Alexander bought it instantly, handing it to her as if money meant nothing.

Sophie had never been treated like this before. Deep down, she was thrilled, but she covered it with a show of hesitation. "Mr. Grant, if Ms. Summers finds out you've been spoiling me like this, she'll be upset. Maybe you shouldn't buy me so much."

She hesitated, furrowing her brows as if something weighed on her mind. "By the way, isn't Ms. Summers still locked in the basement? I wonder what she's going through."

"She's always had it out for me. If she finds out you brought me on this trip, she might tear the house apart," she continued.

Then she looked up, her tone suddenly fragile. "Mr. Grant, I really like you, but you're still married. Maybe we shouldn't be doing this unless..."

Alexander's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Unless what?"

She bit her lip, eyes wet. "It's nothing. I was just overthinking. When we get back, let's stop seeing each other. You have a family, and I don't want to be the other woman—or deal with Ms. Summers coming after me again."

She turned away, shoulders shaking as she began to cry softly.

Seeing her cry, Alexander felt a pang in his chest. "Sophie, we're perfect together. Can you bear to let me go?"

He leaned close, his voice low and smooth. "In my world, there's no such thing as a mistress. There's only a wife, and the woman I love is my wife. Right now, that's you."

"If Emily ever lays a hand on you again, I'll lock her in the basement forever. She'll never bother us again. So please, don't leave me," he said.

Deep down, Sophie felt a surge of triumph. She threw her arms around him, whispering against his lips, "Mr. Grant, I love you so much. Promise me we'll never be apart?"

Alexander smiled faintly, amused by her performance but playing along. "I love you too, Sophie."

Sophie's heart swelled with pride.

Once she gave him a child, she was confident she'd be his lawful wife.

When they returned home, Alexander even took her out for a romantic dinner before dropping her back at school.