Now, as I watched, the memories came flooding back, overwhelming me. Every sickening touch, every moment of humiliation, rushed over me like a violent storm, making my entire body tremble.
I couldn’t bear to see any more. I wiped my tears, quickly saved the chat records to my phone via email, and then erased all traces from the laptop.
Sean…
Since you love putting on a show so much, then this time, I’ll act for you.
I picked up my phone and sent a message to an underground agency abroad—one that specialized in faking deaths.
"Three days from now. The top floor of Hoffman Group. He dies on the spot."
—
The next morning, Sean walked into my hospital room with an extravagant breakfast, smiling as if nothing had happened.
But the moment he stepped closer, I caught the lingering scent of gardenias—a fragrance that didn’t belong to me.
The nausea hit instantly. My stomach churned, and I grabbed the bed frame, retching.
Sean rushed to my side, stroking my back with concern. Just as he was about to speak, the door burst open, and his assistant entered in a panic.
"Mr. Hoffman, it’s bad! Someone uploaded the video of your wife’s kidnapping online!"