Goddess Mode Unlocked: Trash Bride, Hidden Legend

A piercing scream from tires tore through the street. Out of nowhere, a van hurtled forward and struck Corinna Walsh, and the force flung her body upward before it slammed her down onto the concrete. A heavy sound followed, harsh and unforgiving.

Blood felt warm and thick as it leaked from her wounds and spread beneath her, and pain coursed through her body until it seemed as though every bone had shattered.

Sirens rose on all sides, and frantic voices from the crowd blended with the noise.

Corinna struggled to stay conscious, and her blurred vision caught broken flashes of movement as officers rushed in to control the scene, their clipped commands cutting through the chaos of the alarms.

Her fingers were slippery with blood, yet she still reached for her phone and forced herself to move, and with the last of her strength, she called her husband, Vincent Spencer.

"Vincent… I was hurt… There was an accident…" Her voice faded until it barely carried through the line.

The sound that answered her made her chest tighten in shock.

"Vincent… slower… yes, right there…" A woman's quiet, breathless moan flowed from the speaker.

The voice belonged to Margot Palmer, the woman Vincent had never truly released from his life.

To Corinna, the irony felt unbearable. She was bleeding out on the street, suspended between life and death, while her husband was tangled in bed with someone else.

For the past three years of her marriage, she had clung to the naive belief that he might care for her, even if only a little. Only now did she finally understand how deeply mistaken she had been.

Tears poured freely as pain spread through her body, yet the ache in her chest hurt far worse than any injury she could feel. Warmth slipped away with her blood, and a biting chill crept into her arms and legs until her vision lost focus. Her chest felt torn apart from the inside, and she no longer had the strength to resist as darkness closed in.

...

Awareness returned slowly when Corinna opened her eyes inside a hospital room. A persistent, heavy ache pulsed through her head.

In an instant, everything she had forgotten came flooding back.

Once, she had been the beloved girl of the Walsh family, the wealthiest household in town. Three years earlier, her life had shattered when she was kidnapped. Her parents had lost their lives while trying to save her, and she had fallen from a cliff before being swept away by the river below. Fate intervened when Dorothy Spencer, Vincent's grandmother, happened to be nearby and pulled her from the water.

Because of that incident, her memories vanished completely, leaving her with nothing except her name.

Soon after her rescue, Vincent suffered a severe accident and slipped into a coma. Desperate and unwilling to give up, Dorothy sought out a famous psychic, one of those figures the rich turned to when medicine failed them. After studying Corinna and asking several quiet questions, the woman declared that Corinna was "the match". She claimed that Vincent marrying Corinna could alter his fortune and draw him back to life. Feeling indebted to Dorothy for once saving her, Corinna accepted the marriage without hesitation.

Consciousness returned to Vincent not long after, yet the marriage never gained his acknowledgment.

From the beginning, he kept his distance and treated Corinna with indifference, and the household staff followed his lead by showing her barely disguised contempt.

Despite everything, Corinna gave him her heart. She pushed herself to improve, convinced that effort and patience might one day earn even a small portion of his affection.

Looking back now, she finally understood how misguided that hope had been. Tears slipped from her eyes, and a heavy bitterness tightened around her chest.

Without warning, the door burst inward. A sharp-featured woman in her middle years charged into the hospital room, and her piercing stare fixed on Corinna. "You really are tough," she said with a mocking curl of her lips. "After a crash like that, you are still alive."

The woman standing there was Cecelia Spencer, Vincent's mother.

Slowly, Corinna raised her bloodless face and brushed the tears aside. She looked straight at Cecelia, and her gaze carried a calm depth that felt distant and unreadable.

An uneasy chill crept through Cecelia, though she could not explain why.

Cecilia stared, unable to reconcile this woman with the Corinna she knew. The accident had forged someone entirely new—someone whose cold, level stare now locked onto hers.

"What the hell are you staring at?" Cecelia snapped. "Getting into this family was the luckiest break of your life. Now that Margot's back, you need to know your place and step aside."

Wordlessly, she pulled out the folder and tossed it onto the hospital bed. It skidded across the sterile sheets before coming to a stop, the edge of the divorce agreement resting against Corinna's leg.

Unsteady hands reached forward as Corinna lifted the document and opened it, and a faint, empty smile touched her mouth. "So this is how much he despises me now," she said quietly. "He could not even be bothered to deliver this himself."

Since the moment she was hurt, Vincent had never once appeared. Even a stranger would have shown her more concern than he did.

A cold laugh escaped Cecelia. "At least you understand the situation. Vincent is busy with Margot at this very moment, and you are not worth his time." She tapped the papers with her finger. "This agreement reflects exactly what he wants, so you would be wise to sign it right away."

Her plan was simple: as soon as Corinna put her name down, she planned to tell her son that Corinna had been the one to demand the divorce. He would accept it without a second thought.

The silence stretched. When Corinna still didn't speak, Cecelia's voice turned razor-sharp. "And don't think you're taking a dime with you. You were nobody when you came here—an orphan. Staying as Vincent's wife for three years? That was charity. More than you ever deserved." Her lips twisted. "If it weren't for Dorothy saving your pathetic life, you wouldn't even be here. So you'll leave with nothing. And count yourself lucky."

A small smile appeared on Corinna's face, carrying a trace of quiet amusement. "You do not need to worry," she replied. "I have no interest in your family's money."

After taking a calm breath, she accepted the pen and signed her name with deliberate care. This joke of a marriage had finally reached its end.

Cecelia seemed ready to say more, yet Corinna's steady composure made her hesitate instead. "Now that you have signed, you will keep your distance from my son."

A quiet laugh escaped Corinna, sharp despite its softness. She forced herself past the weight of exhaustion, lowered her legs from the bed, and walked toward Cecelia. The divorce papers were tossed down at Cecelia's feet, and her gaze stayed cold and lucid. She spoke slowly and with precision. "I'm not someone who looks back. I don't believe in second chances, and I certainly don't give them to men like Vincent."

Without breaking eye contact, she added, "Agreeing to marry him was the worst decision I ever made."

Something about her presence had shifted. She carried herself with control and polish now, and the timid woman who once endured every slight no longer existed.

For a brief moment, Cecelia stood frozen. Fury quickly followed, twisting her expression as she lifted her hand and lashed out. "Shut up, bitch!" she shouted.

Anticipation guided Corinna's movement. She stepped aside and seized Cecelia's wrist in one clean motion, her grip firm. A faint, cold smile curved her lips. She said evenly, "What, do you really think I'd ever let you lay a hand on me again? Or just stand here and take that from you?"

The moment the words were spoken, Corinna thrust Cecelia away without hesitation.

Losing her footing, Cecelia staggered backward and fell hard onto the floor. Fury twisted her face as she looked up, her body trembling. "You dared to shove me? Have you completely lost your senses?"

Not even a flicker crossed Corinna's face. "Once that paper is signed, you are no longer my mother-in-law. There is no reason for me to tolerate you anymore." Her tone remained level and cold. "If you strike me again, I will respond in kind."

A final glance followed, sharp and dismissive, before Corinna turned her back and left the room.

Cold air greeted her outside the hospital, yet the pressure in her chest refused to fade.

Heat gathered behind her eyes as she reached for her phone and placed a call, and her composure broke the instant someone answered, "Liam, it's Corinna. I'm still alive."