When Winter Scott stepped out of the police station, it was already late at night. Snow was falling heavily outside. People on the street kept glancing at Winter, noticing the bruises on her face, her messy hair, and the way she limped. Winter ignored their stares and whispers completely. She dragged her heavy steps forward, head lowered, her expression numb as she stared at the broken phone in her hand. The screen was shattered beyond repair. Her fingers, smeared with blood, trembled as they tapped the keypad. She slowly keyed in the number. âBeepâŠâ The phone rang repeatedly, but there was no answer. It was no different from the emergency calls she had desperately made while she was being beaten. A snowflake caught on her eyelash, and when she blinked, the icy water melted into her eye. Winter let out a quiet, self-deprecating scoff at how pathetic she looked. Just as her hand began to drop in defeat, the call connected at the very last second. âWhat is it?â A low, indifferent voice came through the phone. Her grip tightened. A trace of surprise crossed Winterâs face. âChrisâŠâ âMr. Xander, Ms. Jasper is looking for you.â His assistant spoke before she could say another word. Then he said calmly, âIâll hang up first.â The line went dead. On the deserted street corner under the glow of a streetlight, snowflakes drifted onto Winterâs hair as her thin frame shook slightly. Suddenly, a warm coat was draped over her shoulders. Winter was startled and looked up to see Sam Quinn, the editor-in-chief, standing there. His heavy gaze swept over her from head to toe, anger burning in his eyes. âWho did this to you?â A puff of white breath escaped Winterâs lips as she shook her head. âWhen they were beating me, I pulled out some of their hair. Thereâs skin under my nails too. Once the DNA is extracted, the police will catch them soon.â Sam was stunned that she could remain so calm and take such precautions after being attacked. This was exactly why she was the person he admired most on his team. âWeâll definitely investigate this thoroughly. Itâs too late now. Iâll take you home.â Since it was nearly impossible to find a taxi in that area, Winter forced a faint smile and got into his car. âThank you, Mr. Quinn.â âDonât be ridiculous. Youâre my reporter. Someone beats you up and Iâm supposed to sit back and do nothing? Everyone else was out on assignment anyway. I was the only one left in the office,â he said as he turned the steering wheel. As he drove, he continued casually, âChris Xanderâs ex-girlfriend just returned to the country. I heard he personally went to the airport to pick her up. Every newsroom is scrambling to get the first exclusive.â Winterâs bloodshot eyes suddenly went still. Her mind buzzed. So while she was being beaten in that alley, desperately calling Chris for help, he was with another woman. Sam didn't notice her expression darkening and kept going. Winter looked down and pressed her blood-stained fingers into the raw wounds on the back of her hand. No one knew that she was actually Chris Xanderâs wife. * Winter did not let Sam drive her all the way to her door. She got out near a nearby residential complex and then took a taxi back to Blackwood Manor. When she got home, she was changing her shoes in the entryway when the housekeeper heard the noise and came out. One look at her, and Mrs. Young froze in shock before rushing over. âMaâam, what happened? How did you end up like this?â Mrs. Young stepped forward to support her and accidentally brushed against the injury on her arm. Winter showed no reaction at all. She looked numb, as if she felt nothing, with no light left in her eyes. âI was attacked while working undercover,â she said lightly. Winter spoke with total indifference, but Mrs. Young was horrified. She had always known that working as a social news reporter was dangerous, but she never imagined it could be this violent. It seemed Mrs. Xander Sr. had been right to suggest that Winter should quit her job. Mrs. Young noticed Winter staring at the shoe cabinet and looked. Her face grew cautious as she spoke. âMr. Xander hasnât come back yet. I heard that Ms. Jasper returned to the country.â Winter kept her head lowered. A few loose strands of hair covered half her face, hiding the look in her eyes. Even so, Mrs. Young could sense her sadness. âMaybe it is justâŠâ Mrs. Young began, trying to explain. Winter stopped her with a small gesture. âIâm going upstairs to shower. Please bring the first-aid kit to my room.â Watching her stagger upstairs, Mrs. Young let out a silent sigh. Still, she did as told and went to get the medical kit. When she passed the master bedroom, she glanced inside. As expected, Winter was not there. She was in the room next door. Who would have thought that after three years of marriage, the couple still slept in separate rooms. Steam filled the bathroom. She stared at the mirror. Horrific bruises spread across her body in dark, angry patches. Winterâs lips trembled. Her stiff, spasming fingers clawed at her clothes, tearing them away and flinging them into the trash. It felt as if she had used up all her strength. Her legs gave out, and she slid down to the floor. Soon, faint sobs could be heard from the bathroom. Mrs. Young listened closely, but all she could hear was the steady rush of running water. After her shower, Winter refused Mrs. Youngâs help with the medicine. She sat on the sofa, applied some ointment to her wounds without much care, and then lay down on the bed. The moment she closed her eyes, images of the beating rushed back into her mind, along with the manâs twisted, cruel laughter. Her bones ached faintly. She turned over, pulled open the bedside drawer, and felt around until her fingers found a bottle at the very back. She opened it, poured out a pill, and tossed it into her mouth. Without any water, she swallowed it dry. With the help of the sleeping pill, Winter soon fell asleep. Even in sleep, her brow stayed tightly furrowed. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead. Her fingers clenched the corner of the blanket until they turned white, trembling uncontrollably. âHelp meâŠâ In the grip of a nightmare, her face was deathly pale and tears slid from her closed eyes, but there was no response in the dark, empty room. * Winter did not wake up until the following evening. The bruises on her face had faded quite a bit, but her body still ached badly. When she got out of bed, she nearly fell to the floor. Last night, it was sheer luck that a kind passerby had come by and shouted for the police. That was what finally made those people stop the beating and kept things from going any further. Otherwise, she probably would have ended up joining her parents in hea-ven. Sam had given her a few days off and told her to stay home and rest properly. As she went downstairs, she passed the master bedroom and paused at the doorway to glance inside. The door was still open, just as it had been the night before. She did not need to think about it to know that Chris had not come home. Mrs. Young had prepared a warm compress for her. Winter sat on the sofa, pressing it gently against her face while scrolling through the news on her phone. As expected of the man who controlled the Xander empire, the top headline was from the night before, yet it was still dominating the news. In the photo, Chrisâs silhouette was tall and commanding against the dark night. Even from behind, it was impossible to ignore the powerful aura he projected. He was pushing a wheelchair, though only the upper back of the woman sitting in it was visible. It was Skyla Jasper. Winter quietly closed the news article. Before she realized it, her hand tightened, and water from the warm compress spilled onto her clothes. She lowered her head and looked at the damp stain spreading across her lap. Her brows knit slightly as her eyes slowly reddened. Pathetic. It had been three years. How could she still not see where his heart really was? She stood up, went back to her room to change, and then headed to the study, hoping to find a couple of books to distract herself. Chrisâs study was clean and orderly, with no unnecessary decoration. It was nothing like hers, which was filled with blind-box toys. One of the desk drawers had been left open, and a window in the study was half ajar. The wind blew through, rustling the papers inside the drawer. Winter watched as a single sheet of paper was blown onto the floor. She walked over to pick it up, intending to put it back, but her entire body froze the moment she saw what was inside the drawer. Lying right there in front of her was a set of divorce papers. Chapter 2 Winter stared at the divorce agreement inside the drawer and felt as if she had been frozen in place. Several thoughts flashed through her mind in an instant, and a chill crept up her spine. Three years ago, she had only been able to marry Chris because Mrs. Xander Sr. had taken a liking to her. Winter had always known that Chris did not love her. He had agreed to the marriage only to secure his position within the Xander family. With Mrs. Xander Sr.âs support, it had been much easier for him to push forward his ambitions. This marriage was something she had stolen. She had willingly let herself fall deeper, hoping that one day Chris would come to love her. She had overestimated herself. Even before the marriage, Chris had never been warm toward her. Afterward, they had lived like strangers under the same roof. Divorce had always felt like a hidden time bomb in her marriage. For three years, Chris had never mentioned it. Now it had come without warning, catching her completely unprepared. As for why it was happening now, she already knew the answer. It was because Skyla had returned. The bold words âDivorce Agreementâ felt like nails driven straight into her heart. She could not bring herself to pick it up and read what was inside. If she hadn't discovered it herself today, she wondered when Chris had planned on giving it to her. She didn't know how long she stood there. She only snapped back to reality when the sound of a car engine drifted up from downstairs and she heard Mrs. Young respectfully greet Chris. By the time she went downstairs, Chris had already entered the house. Snow was falling outside. He casually handed his long black coat to his assistant. His custom-made black suit added an air of solemnity to his presence, making him look exceptionally tall and cold. As the powerful head of the Xander family, his aura was overwhelming. He looked up at the sound of footsteps. The rimless glasses sharpened his already composed appearance. Behind the lenses, his dark eyes were partially hidden, yet their quiet brilliance was impossible to miss. Beneath the calm exterior was a pull that was hard to resist. Winter walked toward him without thinking. They had not seen each other in thirteen days, and ever since she was forced to terminate the pre-gnancy after their child d1ed in the w0-mb a year ago, they had spoken less and less. The man standing before her now felt like a stranger. Winter stopped in her tracks. The divorce agreement in the drawer flashed through her mind, and she opened her mouth, about to ask him about it. His cool gaze swept over her face, and his brows drew together slightly. âGrandma is sick. Come back to the family estate with me.â His low voice carried a hint of chill. After saying that, he turned and walked out. The thought of Mrs. Xander Sr. being ill made Winterâs chest tighten. She no longer had the presence of mind to think about the divorce papers. She went back to her room, grabbed a coat and gloves, and carefully covered the injuries on the back of her hand. When she hurried to the entrance, Chris was standing under the porch with his back to her. He lowered his head to light a c1gar-ette. Hearing her footsteps, he glanced to the side. The brief flare of the flame lit his eyes for a moment before they fell back into shadow. He was Chris Xander, the most untouchable man in Liono City. Even back in high school, people online had endlessly praised his looks and talent. The attention had caused a brief frenzy and even trended before the Xander family quietly shut it down. Even during the two years when he had been blind, he had remained the object of countless womenâs admiration. A dull ache spread through Winterâs chest as she moved to get into the car. As she passed him, her steps unconsciously quickened. Suddenly, he caught her by the arm. Winter froze and looked up, meeting his gaze. It felt as if he could see straight through her. His warm fingers lifted her chin. She tried to turn away, but his grip tightened, as if he had already anticipated the movement. His thumb brushed slowly along the corner of her lips. âHow did you hurt your face?â With nowhere to retreat, Winter could only lift her head slightly and meet his gaze. She didnât know what kind of ointment Mrs. Young had used, but when she woke up that morning, the bruising on her face had already faded significantly. After using a warm compress that evening, it was almost impossible to see. Even Mrs. Young had been surprised, saying she looked nothing like she had the night before. The marks were barely there now. So how had he noticed? A dull ache spread through Winterâs chest. âI tripped while I was working yesterday.â There was no point in telling him about the assault now. She didnât realize it, but her voice still carried a trace of bitterness. Her tone clearly displeased Chris. He rubbed at the corner of her lip with a bit more pressure and gave a short, dry laugh. âYou're not a child anymore.â The car door closed, and warm air from the heater wrapped around Winter, slowly driving away the chill that had settled deep into her bones. The car pulled away from Blackwood Manor and headed toward the Xander estate. The moment Chris got into the car, he began handling work on his laptop. âWere you in the study just now?â His clear, low voice sounded beside her. Winterâs chest tightened. She looked at Chris, who had not once lifted his eyes from the screen. The question sounded casual, as if he had asked it without much thought. He must have noticed the light on in the study when he got out of the car. The study was usually handled by his assistant, and Mrs. Young was never allowed inside. At that hour, the only person who could have been there was her. And after seeing the divorce agreement, she had completely forgotten why she had gone into the study in the first place. âYes. I went to look for a book but I couldnât find anything I wanted to read.â Her mind was preoccupied with Mrs. Xander Sr.âs health. She leaned against the car window, restless and distracted, as the car continued toward the Xander estate. When Winter was seven years old, both her parents had d1ed. Because of the long-standing ties between the Scott and Xander families, the kind-hearted Mrs. Xander Sr. had taken her in and raised her. In the Xander family, the person who loved her most was Mrs. Xander Sr. The first snow in Liono City had come suddenly. Mrs. Xander Sr. had caught a chill and come down with a cold. When Winter entered the room, members of the Xander family, along with doctors, the butler, and servants, were all crowded around, coaxing Mrs. Xander Sr. to take her medicine. Mrs. Xander Sr. clenched her teeth and stubbornly refused to open her mouth. The moment she saw Winter, it was as if she had found a savior. âWinter! Theyâre trying to hurt me!â âGrandma.â Winter walked over quickly and took Mrs. Xander Sr.âs hand. She sat on the edge of the bed and said gently, âWho would dare hurt you while I'm here? Iâd knock them all down. Now, be good and letâs take the medicine. I'll feed it to you, okay?â Mrs. Xander Sr.âs eyes reddened with grievance, but she still listened and obediently took the medicine. Everyone let out a sigh of relief. As expected, Winter could coax her like this. Chris stood off to the side, sweeping a deep, unreadable gaze over Winterâs smiling face. âItâs so bitter!â Mrs. Xander Sr.âs face scrunched up in protest. âThe medicine may be bitter, but it will help you feel better,â Winter said, coaxing her gently before offering her some water. Seeing the aggrieved look on Mrs. Xander Sr.âs face, Winter squeezed her hand and gave it a small shake. âAll right, all right. You said it was too bitter, didnât you? Before I came upstairs, I asked them to make you some warm honey water, with just a little sweetness. I will go get it for you, okay?â Mrs. Xander Sr. was comforted at once. When Winter brought the prepared drink back upstairs and was just about to go in. âYesterdayâs news certainly made waves,â Mrs. Xander Sr. said from inside the room. âAs expected of you. You never do anything quietly.â Winter stopped in her tracks. Chris replied in an indifferent tone. âGrandma, thereâs no need for sarcasm. You should be careful not to upset yourself.â âWinter is your wife,â Mrs. Xander Sr. snapped. âThe Xanders may owe that girl from the Jasper family, but Winter doesnât owe her anything. She doesnât owe you either. If you dare mistreat Winter for her sake, I wonât let it go.â Winterâs fingers tightened, the chill seeping straight into her bones. The sound of servants coming upstairs broke her concentration. She didnât hear what Chris said next. She only heard Mrs. Xander Sr. say, âYou and Winter need to have a child soon. Once you do, everything you want will be yours.â Chapter 3 A child. A sharp, piercing pain instantly radiated through Winterâs body, spreading to every limb. On a late spring night last year, a drunken Chris had stumbled into her room by mistake. She could never forget how, in the heat of the moment, he had pressed against her ear and whispered her name. She became pre-gnant with his child that very night. After that, their relationship underwent a subtle shift. Although he still rarely came home, he hired a nutritionist specifically to oversee her daily meals. She truly believed that was the beginning of her happily ever after. But last winter, when she was already eight months along, the babyâs heartbeat suddenly stopped. The fetus d1ed in her w0-mb, and she was forced to undergo a termination. Afraid she would be devastated, the medical staff would not let her see the baby even once. She never got to say goodbye. She never got to touch his tiny hand. During that time, no one dared to mention the word âchildâ in front of her. It became a forbidden place in her heart. Now, hearing it again, she felt as though she had been plunged into ice. Soft footsteps sounded on the stairs. A servant came up from downstairs. âMrs. Xander.â Winter snapped back to herself. She wiped at her reddened eyes, stead1ed the tray in her hands, and stepped into the room. The conversation inside stopped abruptly. The moment Mrs. Xander Sr. saw Winter, her brows knit with pain and regret. If she had known Winter was upstairs, she never would have brought up the child. She immediately turned to Chris, hoping he would go to her, but Chris stood there like a block of ice. He gave Winter a casual glance before turning to leave the room. * After Mrs. Xander Sr. had fallen asleep, Winter checked her temperature again and made sure the fever had gone down before leaving the room. That night, Mrs. Xander Sr. insisted that Winter and Chris stay at the Xander estate. She even had the butler, Mr. White, personally escort Winter back to the guesthouse that had once been prepared as their marital home. The house stood on its own within the Xander estate, a separate building meant for the couple alone. Winter had no idea where Chris had gone. After leaving Mrs. Xander Sr.âs room earlier, he had disappeared completely. He had never been one to follow orders. Now that he was firmly in control and no longer needed anyoneâs approval, he certainly did not have to listen to the family. It was entirely possible that he had already left the estate. When she reached the bedroom door, Winter glanced back at Mr. White, who was pulling his phone from his pocket. She let out a quiet sigh. âMr. White, you should go get some rest.â âI canât, Mrs. Xander,â he said apologetically. âMrs. Xander Sr. asked me to take photos as proof.â Mr. White used to address her as Ms. Scott. After she married Chris, even though Chris had never openly acknowledged her as his wife, Mrs. Xander Sr. had made it clear that everyone in the household was to address her properly as Mrs. Xander. It was obvious that Mrs. Xander Sr. wasnât reassured at all. Winter did not know what else to say. She stood at the door, completely drained, and let Mr. White take a couple of photos. Mr. White nodded with satisfaction at the pictures. âThat will do. I can report back now. Mrs. Xander, please get some rest.â As he walked away, Winter breathed a sigh of relief. At least Chris wasn't there. She would have the room to herself. As soon as she closed the door, Winter leaned against it and bent forward, clutching her right leg as pain made it tremble. She had almost failed to hold it together. Last night, the man had kicked her right leg hard. Three times. With that kind of force, two more kicks would have crippled her. Once the police caught them, she would make sure he paid for it. âAre you waiting for me to come over and carry you?â A manâs cool voice suddenly broke the silence of the dim room. Winter jumped in shock. She had not even had time to turn on the lights. She looked toward the sound, and a blurred figure gradually came into focus. A flash of light glinted off a pair of lenses. Chris stood by the open window, leaning against the sill, a c1ga-rette between his fingers. Winter looked at him, emotions tangled and unreadable. So he had not left after all. He had come back to the room before she did. It seemed they would be staying here together tonight. If this had been the past, Winter would have felt flustered, her heart racing with shy anticipation. But the image of the divorce agreement in the desk drawer flashed through her mind, along with Skylaâs return. Whatever expectations she once had vanished completely. She did not bother turning on the light. Enduring the pain in her right leg, she walked toward the sofa. Forget it. She would just make do on the sofa for the night. Once morning came, everything would be fine. Before she could even reach it, a sudden force yanked her sideways. She lost her balance and fell straight into a broad, warm chest. Before she could struggle free, the arm around her waist tightened abruptly. Chrisâs warm, damp breath brushed against her ear as he kissed her, sending an instinctive shiver through her body. This was the first time Chris had touched her since last spring. In a dizzy blur, she was pressed down onto the sofa. His body blocked out the light, his heat enclosing her completely. The lingering, heated kisses left her with no strength to resist. âGrandma said we should have a child.â The words hit her like a bucket of cold water. Winter thought of the divorce agreement in the study drawer, then of what Mrs. Xander Sr. had just said. She turned her face away from his lips and looked straight into his eyes, eyes that seemed made to ensnare people. Her throat felt as though it were being pricked by countless needles. âDo you actually want a child, or do you just want whatever Grandma promised you in return?â Chris seized both her wrists and pinned them above her head. With one hand, he removed his glasses. Without the lenses to soften his gaze, his eyes turned cold and sharp, like those of a predator. This was the real Chris Xander. âWhat difference does it make?â he said calmly. âWhen you insisted on marrying me back then, you should have been prepared for this.â Winterâs face drained of color. âDonât you agree?â he whispered. âWinter.â The tenderness in his voice only made the pain sink deeper into her bones. A name spoken without love, steeped in mockery, felt like slow torture to her. Chris knew exactly where to strike to hurt her the most. He gave a low, mocking laugh and leaned down, easily stripping her of the last of her strength. As her clothes were pulled open, Winterâs body je-rked violently. Her mind instinctively replayed the scene from the night before, when she had been beaten. If not for a kind passerby, her clothes would have been t0rn apart then too. In that moment, she could no longer tell whether the man in front of her was Chris, or the men who had attacked her. âDonât!â Like a cornered animal, she bit down hard on his neck. In the dim light, Chris hissed in pain. âSo youâve grown bold enough to bite now?â Chris sneered. His large hand clamped onto her jaw as he yanked off his tie, moving to bind her struggling wrists. Suddenly, a phone rang sharply in the room. A cold blue glow lit up the darkness. The phone on the coffee table vibrated, slowly shifting its position. The caller ID came clearly into Winterâs view. Skyla. It was Skyla Jasper. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Winter scrambled out from under him. Trembling, she pulled her clothes together, covering the large, dark bruises left from the beating the night before. Dragging her injured right leg, she curled up in the corner of the sofa. At that moment, the lamp beside the sofa snapped on. Chris stood there, his tie hanging loose around his collar, two buttons of his shirt t0rn open. His Adamâs apple moved as he swallowed. The phone was still ringing. Winterâs face was deathly pale, making her reddened eyes stand out even more. She looked at him with open mockery. She said coldly, âYour precious sweetheart is calling. Arenât you going to answer?â Chapter 4 Chris pushed himself up from the sofa. His expression was cold as he glanced at Winter curled up in the corner. He picked up his phone, swiped the screen, and answered the call. âFocus on your recovery first. Thatâs the most important thing. As for anything else, have someone reach out to Gavin.â Whatever the person on the other end said, his response was gentle and incredibly patient. Nothing like the man he had been with her. After hanging up, Chris picked up the glasses he had tossed aside earlier. He did not look at Winter again. He stood, grabbed his suit jacket, and headed for the door. âAre you going to see Skyla?â Winter asked, her eyes burning red. Without turning back, he said, âThatâs none of your business.â Bracing her aching right leg, Winter struggled to her feet. She looked at the man standing there, immaculate and composed, a stark contrast to her own disheveled state. Her heart sank to the b0ttom of her chest. âChris Xander!â She staggered forward and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. Afraid he would shake her off, she held on with all her strength. Every bone in her body screamed in pain. The divorce papers in the drawer, Skylaâs return, and the fact that she could no longer hold on to Chrisâs heart all crowded her mind. It was time to put an end to everything. Winter closed her eyes in pain, almost mocking herself for still hoping. âWhen you married me back then, you didnât have a choice,â she said quietly. âI just want to know the truth of how you really feel.â Chris held his glasses between his long fingers. He looked down at her coldly. âWhat game are you playing now?â âCall it a game if you want.â Winter slowly loosened her grip. She looked up at him. Her eyes were clear without a trace of confusion. She spoke each word carefully. âIf Grandma hadnât used company shares as leverage, would you have agreed to marry me?â Deep down, she knew there was no point in asking. But a part of her couldn't let it go. This was her last chance to speak up. No matter what he said tonight, she would never ask him again. Chris narrowed his eyes as he stud1ed her. Then he smiled, though the smile never reached his eyes. âDoes it matter?â He let out a soft scoff. His dark eyes fixed on her as he stepped closer. âYou were the one who insisted on marrying me back then. You didnât care about anything else. So why bring this up now? What are you trying to do?â Without his glasses, the sharpness in his gaze was fully unleashed. The crushing pressure and biting cold made Winter instinctively take a step back. Chris grabbed her waist and looked down at her. His eyes slid lower, to her lips, still faintly swollen from his kiss. He leaned in, his warm breath brushing her ear. âYou want to know my real answer?â he murmured. âIâm afraid you wouldnât be able to handle it.â The grip at her waist vanished abruptly. Winterâs right leg gave out. She collapsed onto the floor. She stared blankly in the direction he left, her body trembling uncontrollably. A black sedan was parked outside the gates of the Xander estate. Chris, radiating a cold intensity, got into the car. He yanked off his loosened tie and tossed it aside, stretching out his legs. The heater was on, but the temperature inside the car seemed to drop the moment he sat down. His assistant, Gavin Linc0ln, glanced quickly at the rearview mirror, then looked away and started the car. âMr. Xander, Ms. Jasper called earlier. She said her younger brother got into some trouble. He incited an assault.â âWho was the victim?â Chris asked. âShe said it was someone who meddled too much. The person isnât seriously hurt and only has minor injuries. But the police have already traced it back to the Jasper family. Ms. Jasper is very worried.â Chris lit a c1ga-rette. The flare briefly outlined the sharp line of his brow. âGo take care of it.â * Word of Chris leaving the estate the previous night reached Mrs. Xander Sr. early the next morning. At the breakfast table, Mrs. Xander Sr. was about to say something to comfort Winter, but Winter smiled and placed a croissant onto her plate. âGrandma, letâs just enjoy our breakfast. We shouldn't talk about things that ruin the appetite.â After Chris had been summoned away by a phone call from Skyla, Winter did not sleep in their marital home. Instead, she returned to her old room, right next door to Chrisâs. In the past, she used to go looking for him whenever she had the chance. Even though Chris found her annoying, he had never changed rooms all those years. After finishing breakfast with Mrs. Xander Sr., Winter prepared to leave. With her injured leg, she could not drive, so she asked Mr. White to arrange a car for her. While waiting, she took a tube of anti-inflammatory ointment from her bag. She had found it that morning on the table outside her bedroom. It was the same ointment Mrs. Young had used on her back at Blackwood Manor. She had no idea who had left it there. She walked into the courtyard and stopped, lifting her gaze to the magnolia tree that stood two stories tall. Magnolias in Liono City only bloomed in April. Now, in December, the branches were bare and lifeless. She remembered when she first came to the Xander estate. It had been magnolia season. She was seven. Chris was twelve. That day, the sun had been bright. Chris had stood beneath the magnolia tree while the servants introduced her to him. He had glanced at her coolly and said only one thing: âJust donât bother me.â âWhat a relaxed mood youâre in,â a voice said coolly from behind her. âEverythingâs falling apart in the house, and you still have the leisure to stand here staring at a boring tree.â The mockery in his tone was unmistakable. Winter did not need to turn around to know who it was. It was Steve Xander, Chrisâs cousin. Steve had never gotten along with Chris. Winter had no interest in engaging with him and stepped forward, ready to leave. âHeyââ Steve stretched out his arm and blocked her path, smiling faintly. âDonât you want to know where Chris arranged for Skyla to stay?â Winter stopped. Seeing her pause, Steve grinned. He strolled over to stand in front of her, looking down with a raised eyebrow. âYouâve been married to him for three years, and yet Chris is so heartlessâŠâ Winter slipped her hands into her pockets and cut him off. âHow things are between Chris and me is our business as a married couple. It has nothing to do with you. If you have so much time to meddle, you should spend it figuring out how to secure your footing within the Xander Corporation.â The words struck a nerve. Steveâs expression darkened. He grabbed her arm and sneered, âYou and Chris, a married couple? Thatâs just wishful thinking on your part. Has Chris ever treated you like his wife?â It felt like a public slap in the face. Winter felt a sharp pang in her chest. Everyone in the Xander family knew that Chris had never truly acknowledged her. âWhether he treats me as his wife or not, Iâm still your sister-in-law,â Winter said coldly as she shook his hand off. âTouch me again and see what happens. I wonât hesitate to call for help.â True enough, Steve did not dare push things further in the Xander estate. He stood beneath the bare branches, staring at her darkly. âI canât wait to see the look on your face when you finally find out the truth.â Winter ignored him. After getting into the car, she reached down and rubbed her aching leg. âMa'am, are we going to the station?â the driver asked respectfully. It was a workday, and he didn't know she had been given time off. âYes,â she replied. She still had an interview transcript that needed editing. Keeping herself busy would help distract her from her thoughts. Winter was a senior reporter in the stationâs news department. She specialized in investigative journalism, focusing on unethical corporations and illegal businesses. Through her work alone, she had already helped rescue many vulnerable youths from dangerous environments. As soon as she arrived at the newsroom, Sam called her into his office. He closed the door, motioned for her to sit, and hesitated, clearly struggling with what to say. Meeting Winterâs calm, questioning gaze, he finally sighed. âWinter, thereâs something I need to tell you. The people who attacked you have been identified, butâŠâ âThey have powerful backing?â Winter asked calmly. She was not surprised. Anyone who dared assault a reporter was either fool or well protected. Sam poured her a glass of water and placed it on the desk. Then, his voice grew heavy. âIâve asked around. The person who ordered the hit is the younger brother of Chris Xanderâs ex-girlfriend. Chris is protecting him. He even got the three men who actually beat you released. The Xander family has people at the police stationâŠâ Winter barely heard whatever he said after that. Chapter 5 Winterâs fingers clenched so tightly they trembled, her nails biting into her palms until she drew blood. The silence was suffocating. âWinter. WinterâŠâ Sam frowned deeply as he called her name. Winter sat there like a frozen statue. After a long moment, she finally moved her stiff lips and answered calmly, as if nothing were wrong. âIâm listening.â Her composure unsettled him even more. No tears. No anger. Nothing at all. Sam worried she might be bottling everything up, heading toward a breaking point. But there were things he still had to say. He slid a check across the desk. âThis is compensation from the Jasper family.â It was clear what they wanted. They were trying to make the matter disappear. Winter glanced at the amount. One million d011ars. She almost laughed. Turns out her injuries were worth quite a bit. Sam said a few more words, trying to make her feel better. âFine. I understand,â Winter said. She took the check, stood up neatly, and left the office. The door closed quietly behind her. Sam stared at it, his brow still furrowed. This was not like her. In the past, whenever Winter ran into trouble, she fought back head-on. She never backed down. She never took hush money and walked away. But this time, the people involved were protected by the Xander family. Even if he wanted to help her, his connections did not reach that far. If she really chose to let it go like this, he had to admit he felt disappointed. He had entrusted her with the most dangerous investigations precisely because she feared no power and no retaliation. Exposing corruption and buried filth required exactly that kind of backbone. And now she had taken the money and left. However, it was her decision. Maybe she had her own difficulties. After all, she was a young woman with no parents and no backing. As an outsider, what right did he have to judge? Winter returned to her desk and buried herself in her unfinished interview drafts. She stayed at the station until after hours, never leaving. The next day, she showed up to work as usual. Everyone at the station knew she had been assaulted. Colleagues she was close to came by to check on her, offer comfort, even suggested going out for dinner after work to shake off the bad luck. She declined them all politely. âIf it were me, Iâd be too embarrassed to go out if Iâd almost been beaten into a pulp,â Wendy Stone said, leaning against Winterâs desk. She held a freshly bought coffee, her long, wavy hair cascading down her shoulders. She and Winter were rivals, both eyeing the âOutstanding Employeeâ title for the year-end evaluation. âI was not beaten into a pulp, but thank you,â Winter replied. She casually took the coffee from Wendyâs hand, took a sip, and narrowed her eyes in satisfaction. âThanks. This is my favorite. Youâve been paying close attention to me, havenât you?â âWho said that was for you?â Wendy nearly jumped. âGive it back!â Winter took another sip. âIâm drinking it anyway. What are you going to do about it?â Wendy huffed and didnât actually try to grab it back. She clicked her tongue and looked Winter up and down. âGood thing youâve got skin this thick. Otherwise, you really wouldâve been beaten to a mess.â Instead of being annoyed, Winter found her oddly endearing. Just as Wendy twisted her h1ps and turned to leave, Winter called out, âWendy, sweetie, do you happen to have a VIP card for the JX Club?â âWhy?â Being called sweetie by someone as striking as Winter clearly put her in a good mood. âYou want one?â Winter blinked at her playfully. âLend it to me, and Iâll tell you where I got my double eyelids done.â Wendyâs eyes flew open. âSo you did get work done!â She knew it. No one was born with double eyelids that perfect. She hurried back to her desk, pulled a black card from her wallet, and shoved it into Winterâs hand. âNow tell me.â Winter leaned in close and whispered in her ear, smiling. âActually, I got them done... in my momâs w0-mb.â That meant they were natural. Wendyâs expression twisted through several emotions before she exploded, stamping her foot. âWinter! You lied to me!â âThanks for the VIP card,â Winter said, not even turning around as she waved casually in Wendyâs direction. * After leaving the TV station, Winter stopped by a mall and picked out an outfit that was both comfortable and party-appropriate. She swapped out the short skirt the sales associate suggested for a pair of fitted black pants, which conveniently hid the bruises on her th1ghs. She paired them with knee-high boots. With a slight tweak to her makeup, her look shifted instantly, cool, bold, and unapologetically edgy. Then she drove straight to JX Club, a nightlife hotspot popular with the cityâs young and reckless. As expected, she was stopped at the entrance. Winter rested one hand on the steering wheel as she handed over the VIP card. âIâm here for Jacobâs birthday.â Jacob Jasper, Skylaâs brother, was hosting his party at the club tonight. One look at her fashionable outfit told the security guard she belonged here. More importantly, the VIP card was all the proof he needed. He waved her through without hesitation. As she walked deeper into the club, the louder the music became, pounding hard enough to rattle her chest. Winter took a drink from a passing server, pretending to sip as her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Jacob. Jacob was infamous in Liono City. He was a notorious troublemaker and his bright red hair made him easy to spot. The moment she stepped into the party, heads turned. A stunning woman like her didnât go unnoticed. Men and women alike looked over. Winter rarely dressed like this. She had a great figureâa slim waist, soft curves, and long legs accentuated by fitted pants and knee-high boots. And then there was her face, striking enough to stand out in any crowd. That was exactly why she usually wore a mask during interviews. She hated being the center of attention. A few men tried to approach her, but she smiled and deflected smoothly. âSorry,â she said lightly. âIâm here as Jacobâs guest.â The moment they realized she was a guest of Jacobâs, the men backed off without another word. It didnât take long before she spotted him at the poolside. A woman, soaked and trembling, was shoved into the indoor pool. Jacob tossed a stack of cash down and laughed. âIs that all youâve got?â he jeered. âHit her harder!â âJacob.â Someone tapped his shoulder. âWho is it?â Jacob snapped as he turned around. Before he could finish the sentence, his vision went dark followed by a loud crack. A glass bottle shattered against his head. The music cut out abruptly as a few sharp screams pierced the air. The atmosphere dropped instantly, cold and suffocating. Even the assault in the pool stopped. Blood trickled down Jacobâs forehead, sliding into the water and spreading in slow red swirls. âWho wants to d1e?â Jacob roared, grabbing a bottle to swing back. But someone was faster. Another bottle smashed straight into his head. A clear, icy voice cut through the chaos. âYouâve got some nerve asking. Iâm your worst nightmare!â The crowd held its breath. No one had imagined that Jacob would get his head cracked open at his own birthday party. Jacob staggered, wiping the blood from his eyes. Through the red haze, he saw a stunningly beautiful face that was deathly calm. The moment he recognized Winter, his expression twisted, venom flooding his eyes. âSo itâs you,â he snarled. âI shouldâve had you killed that day. What, you got a death wish coming back here?â Chapter 6 It was Winter who had ruined his business. A sharp, scathing article she had posted online had gone viral online, stirring up a public uproar and getting Jacobâs bar shut down. Half a year of his blood, sweat, and money had gone down the drain. He had been itching to settle that score for a long time. His original plan was to have his guys beat her, assault her, and take photos to use as blackmail. Who would have guessed she would be lucky enough to escape? But today, she had practically delivered herself to his doorstep. âYou really aren't afraid to d1e, are you?â Jacob sneered. He took the towel a bodyguard handed him and pressed it against the cut on his head. She actually had the nerve to smash a bottle over him. Luckily, he had dodged during the second strike, so it wasn't as deep as it could have been but the amount of blood lost and the sheer humiliation in front of the crowd made him see red. No matter what, he was not letting her walk out of here tonight. He leaned in close, a twisted grin pulling at his face. âDonât think youâll get lucky every time. âStill thinking about going to the police?â He had specifically sent men to beat her on the day his sister returned to the country. He had planned for the worst from the start. Even if Chris found out afterward, he was confident he could hide behind Skyla and walk away untouched. What he hadnât expected was for Winter to actually call the police. The investigation had traced everything back to him. And yet Chris had stepped in and protected him anyway. That told him everything he needed to know. Winter clearly meant nothing to Chris. What kind of husband watched his wife get beaten and did absolutely nothing? It was obvious that Chris despised her. âAs long as Skyla says the word, Chris will cover for me,â Jacob said coldly. âBut you? Has he ever shown you even a shred of concern? Winter, this is your karma for stealing her boyfriend three years ago.â Winterâs expression stiffened for just a split second. Jacob caught it and smiled darkly. âYouâre going to regret what you did tonight.â Winter scoffed, looking at him like he was trash. âThe only thing I regret is not hitting harder. I shouldâve smashed your skull instead of leaving you standing here barking.â The smile vanished from Jacobâs face. âGet her,â he barked. âHold her down. Strip her. Iâll make sure she doesnât leave this place alive.â She was still talking back even with death staring her in the face. Empty bottles were scattered across the table. Jacob grabbed one and smashed the bottom against the edge. Jagged glass glinted sharply under the lights. At his order, two men beside him rushed forward, eager to prove themselves. The sound of their smug laughter made Winterâs blood run cold. She recognized them at once. They were the same men who had attacked her that night. Perfect. That saved her the trouble of tracking them down herself. The moment they moved in, Winter quickly pulled a switchblade from her pocket and drove the tip into one manâs th1gh. A sharp scream rang out. He collapsed to his knees, clutching his leg. The other man had not even figured out what had happened before Winter caught movement in the corner of her eye. She lifted her right leg and slammed her heel into him. Pain tore through his th1gh, and he cried out as he dropped to his knees as well. Winter gripped the bloodied switchblade and stared coldly at the two men kneeling on the floor, screaming in pain. She did not care who had kicked her leg that night. One leg each was fair. They had it coming. That night, she had been careless. They had caught her off guard. Did they really think a reporter like her had no idea how to defend herself? William Zeller had hired professionals to teach her self-defense techniques. She had let her training lapse last year because of her pre-gnancy, but she still remembered enough for situations like this. If William ever found out she had been beaten, he would abandon the entire film crew and rush back to stand up for her. She refused to let anyone look down on her, especially not for failing to avenge herself. âAll of you, get her!â Jacob roared when he saw his men taken down. His expression turned dark with rage. âAre you all useless? You cannot even handle one woman?â Jacob had more than ten bodyguards. Winter immediately backed away. They were all professionally trained. She knew better than to fight them head-on. Instead, she shot a quick glance toward the direction she had come from. This was Jacobâs territory. She had walked straight into danger, but she had not come unprepared. So why had the security guards she hired not shown up? She had arranged everything carefully. Something had gone wrong. As Winter found herself surrounded, one bodyguard attacked from behind and pinned her arms. Jacobâs blood-smeared face lunged close as he grabbed her by the throat. âYou think you're so tough, Winter? Letâs see how tough you are by the end of the night!â He showed no restraint, cutting off her air completely. Her face began to change color, yet she made no sound. She looked at him the way one would look at trash. âLooking for death?â Jacob snarled. âStop!â A womanâs sharp command rang out from nearby. The hand around Winterâs throat froze. âSis, what are you doing here?â Jacob turned around. But the first person he saw was not Skyla. It was the man standing beside the wheelchair, tall, composed, and coldly refined. The moment Jacob met those pitch-dark eyes, a chill ran down his spine. Chris Xander. Why was he here? Winterâs gaze followed as Jacob turned his shoulder. The instant she saw him, her face drained of color. She understood everything. The people she had arranged outside the club had been intercepted by Chris. To protect Skylaâs brother and keep the birthday party from being disrupted, he had truly gone that far. As Jacob stood there distracted, Winter summoned every ounce of fury in her soul. She wrenched herself free from the guard and kicked Jacob away. Before anyone could react, she lunged at him, pinning him down. She grabbed a jagged bottle fragment from the floor and began slamming it into his head. Her eyes were bloodshot and wild. The sound of glass shattering against bone echoed as bystanders screamed and scrambled away from the flying shards. No one had time to react. Even the bodyguards froze. At that moment, Winter no longer looked human. She looked like a vengeful spirit crawled out from the depths of he-11. Jacob lay on the ground, disoriented, his words slurred. It was unclear whether he was begging or cursing. Still, Winter showed no sign of stopping. She reversed her grip on the switchblade, grabbed his collar, and drove it down with swift, decisive intent. Anyone watching would have thought she truly meant to ki11 him. Suddenly, a hand clamped around her wrist. The grip was overwhelming. She had no chance to struggle. Her strength was cut off instantly, and the blade fell to the floor. âMrs. Xander,â Gavin said softly, frowning. Even he had been shaken by what he had just witnessed. Winter collapsed to her knees. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gavin retrieve the switchblade from the floor. He was Chrisâs personal bodyguard. He only followed Chrisâs orders. âSo it is fine for him to have people beat me and try to ki11 me,â Winter said softly with a low laugh. âBut when I want his life, I need your permission?â A shard of glass had grazed her cheek when the bottle shattered. Blood streaked down half her face. Gavin froze. Something finally clicked. His heart tightened as he instinctively turned to look at Chris standing not far away.
