Spring Beneath the Grave

Learning that Drake was actually older than Franny, and then getting slapped across the face without any explanation, made Elora shake with rage.

She wrenched herself free. Ignoring the burning pain on her scalp, she swung backhanded, two sharp slaps, landing squarely on Rodger's face.

"Are you blind? You seriously couldn't tell she fell on purpose?! And you dare hit me? I haven't even settled the score with you for cheating during our marriage. What gives you the right to yell at me?" she snapped.

Rodger choked on his words and didn't argue back.

Instead, he carefully helped Lilah up from the floor. Seeing the cuts on her skin where the medical cart had scraped her, his eyes filled with pain, then ignited with fury.

Clenching his fists, he ground out, "Anyone who bullies Lilah will pay the price."

Elora laughed softly, amused.

"You? Really?"

Rodger took a deep breath and raised his hand.

The bodyguards behind him moved at once, lunging toward Elora.

She lashed out with a vicious low sweep, sending one of them crashing to the ground, howling in pain.

In the next instant, she stepped forward, closing the distance between herself and Rodger.

She locked eyes with him.

Those eyes—deep, intense, once filled with love—looked exactly the same as they had back when he loved her.

Back then, during their honeymoon phase, she had secretly climbed over the wall into the Griffiths' residence. She was caught by the security team and had her wrist broken in the scuffle.

Rodger hadn't hesitated. He decisively ensured that each man was severely reprimanded.

The scene was one of immediate and severe reprimand. Cries of distress filled the air.

And yet he had looked at Elora, smiling calmly.

"Anyone who dares touch Elora will pay the price."

Only a few years had passed. Now, for another woman, he wanted her to pay the price instead.

Elora sneered.

Enough. This betrayal felt like the deepest of wounds. These past years, she would consider them a painful lesson.

She came back to herself.

They were standing extremely close now.

Nose to nose. No trace of intimacy in their eyes, only madness and murderous intent.

"Franny died because of you. I'll make you pay too! When that day comes, Rodger, don't come crawling to me on your knees, crying and begging for mercy."

With that, Elora pulled away and strode out of the hospital without looking back even once.

She had just reached the underground parking garage when a blinding beam of headlights flashed across her vision.

An SUV drove toward her at a dangerous speed, with clear intent to cause harm.

Her eyes went sharp with shock.

It was Rodger's car.

She didn't even have time to dodge before she was sent flying.

An intense, overwhelming pain surged through her entire body.

In that split second in midair, she saw it clearly. Lilah was behind the wheel, her face set with ruthless determination.

And Rodger sat in the passenger seat beside her.

Elora was knocked to the ground.

She felt a warm, metallic taste fill her mouth, and a heavy pressure spread throughout her body, making it difficult to breathe.

The SUV sped away.

Rodger's voice drifted lightly from the open window, "Feeling better now, baby? If that wasn't enough, we can find other ways to make sure she understands. I told you, I won't let anyone harm you. Not even Elora. You suffer one point of pain, and I'll make the person who hurt you suffer a hundred times more."

The car disappeared.

Leaving her, critically injured, alone in the parking garage.

Her consciousness began to blur.

Elora drifted into a long dream.

In the past, even the smallest scrape had made Rodger frantic.

He would disinfect her wounds himself, bandage them carefully, asking over and over if she was in pain.

He used to say, "Elora, if you hurt one bit, my heart hurts ten times more."

But now?

He sat in the passenger seat, having another woman run her down without blinking.

Even enthusiastically suggesting they crush her again.

He called the murderer baby.

Once, he had called her that.

Called their daughter Franny that.

So that was it. Endearments could be transferred so easily. Love could be copied so cheaply.

"Heh... "

Elora tried to laugh, but only choked on the pain, a metallic taste in her throat.

Her consciousness continued to collapse. Images flickered past like a carousel.

The memory of Franny, Rodger's cold indifference, Lilah's smug satisfaction, and that bastard child's provocation…

She couldn't die here.

She absolutely couldn't let them get their way so easily.

Summoning every ounce of strength left in her body, Elora's trembling fingers fumbled for her phone. She dialed a number.

Before long, distant chaos erupted.

Relief washed over her. She closed her eyes.

Help arrived.

Today's pain—she would repay it a hundredfold someday.