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Lucien Adler spent seven years convincing me to marry him. But the night before our engagement, I overheard him: "You're really marrying Serena? What about that little dancer you keep?" His reply froze my blood: "Serena's like an ice sculpture, perfect but cold. Lina needs me to survive." "I'll keep Lina after marriage. Serena's too dignified to complain." The next day, his mistress crashed our engagement. At the staircase, she dragged us both down. When my ankle snapped, Lucien lunged to shield her, because she was hanging off the balcony, screaming: "Choose her and I'll jump!" He shoved me away, snarling: "Your leg can heal. Lina's life can't be replaced! If she dies, you'll pay." That night, I endured bone-setting surgery alone. Not a single tear fell.