At the hospital entrance.

Susanna Sutherland glanced at the dried blood crusted on her fingertip. A mocking, bitter little smile tugged at her lips.

More than a year of marriage. She had given him every ounce of warmth she had, and still, she had never gotten his heart.

She passed out and ended up in the hospital, yet he never showed up. Not even a call.

What hurt even more was that he had his assistant deliver the divorce papers straight to the hospital.

The thought stabbed deep, and her heart twisted hard.

Dragging her heavy body forward, she weakly pulled open the taxi door.

Twenty minutes later, the cab stopped in front of a villa.

Through the window, Susanna gave the house a dim, lifeless look before slowly getting out and walking inside.

“Madam, how did the hospital checkup go today? Was it your stomach acting up?”

The moment Mrs. Underwood saw her come in, she hurried over, face full of concern.

Susanna’s eyes darkened. Almost without thinking, her hand went to her lower belly first, then slid upward and rested over her stomach.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and answered softly, “Yeah. My stomach’s not great.”

Mrs. Underwood eyed that small movement, then looked down at the little bag in Susanna’s hand. “Then why didn’t they prescribe anything?”

As Susanna walked upstairs, she replied, “I just need to watch my diet for a while. Mrs. Underwood, I’m going back to my room first.”

Mrs. Underwood stood by the stairs, looking up as Susanna disappeared into the hallway on the second floor.

A maid beside her also glanced upstairs, then leaned in and whispered, “Mrs. Underwood, Madam looks awful. She was all smiles when she left this morning. What happened?”

Mrs. Underwood frowned. “I think something’s off too. Maybe her stomach really hurts?”

The maid asked, “Should we tell Mr. Blackwood?”

Mrs. Underwood paused, then said, “He’ll probably be back later. We’ll talk then.”

Half an hour later, just as Susanna was about to step out of the bedroom, her lowered gaze suddenly landed on her long, slender fingers.

The diamond ring on her ring finger—back when they first got married, all she saw in it was happiness shining.

Now, it was just blinding.

Her fingertips trembling, Susanna pulled it off and tossed it onto the corner cabinet.

She closed the door behind her and walked downstairs while sending a text to Spencer Lyndon:

Please tell Adrian Blackwood. Tomorrow at 9:00 a.m., Civil Affairs Bureau. Don’t be late.

Mrs. Underwood was still standing near the stairs waiting. When she saw Susanna coming down with a travel bag in hand, eyes red-rimmed, complexion even worse than before, her worry instantly deepened.

“Madam, it’s already evening. Where are you going?”

Susanna tightened her grip on the strap of the bag and forced a trace of gentleness into her eyes. “Mrs. Underwood, I’m leaving. Thank you for taking care of me this past year.”

“What? Madam, what do you mean by that?”

Mrs. Underwood’s eyes flew wide open, her voice full of shock and distress.

Ever since Susanna married into the family, her relationship with Adrian Blackwood had been distant, sure—but she’d never heard of them fighting or making a scene.

So what was this? A fight, and now she was storming out for a few days?

The second that thought hit her, Mrs. Underwood quickly stepped forward and blocked Susanna’s path.

“Madam, it’s late already. Where can a young woman like you go alone?”

Mrs. Underwood knew plenty about Susanna’s family.

Honestly, not one of them was easy to deal with.

And from what she could tell, the Su family never truly cherished Susanna. Even if they acted like they did, it was probably only because they could use her to squeeze benefits out of the Blackwood family.

“Madam, did Mr. Blackwood upset you? Young couples fight, that’s normal. Listen to me, don’t leave home just because you’re in a bad mood...”

“Mrs. Underwood, thank you. But I really have to go.”

***

Blackwood Group.

After hanging up, Spencer Lyndon entered the huge office and reported respectfully, “Mr. Blackwood, the residence called. They said Madam packed a few things and left.”

Adrian Blackwood’s brows drew together slightly, a chill flashing through his eyes. He asked coldly, “What do you mean, ‘a few things’?”

Spencer hesitated. “Just... a couple changes of clothes and her documents.”

After saying that, he took the signed agreement from his briefcase and set it carefully on the desk.

“Mr. Blackwood, please take a look. This is her signature.”

“Who told you that you could keep calling her ‘Madam’?”

Adrian Blackwood’s voice wasn’t loud. If anything, it sounded almost casual. But the pressure in it was enough to make people’s scalps go numb.

At once, Spencer lowered his head and didn’t dare say another word.

Adrian Blackwood set down the file in his hand, picked up the agreement, and skimmed it. A cold laugh slipped out.

“She wants nothing? Is this her way of making me look bad?”

She had obviously married him for money, so what was this act now?

Did she want more, but feel awkward asking directly, so she was pulling this clean-break routine to play hard to get?

Question after question came down like a hammer, and cold sweat nearly broke out across Spencer’s back.

After thinking it over again and again, he finally bit the bullet and spoke.

“Mr. Blackwood, Madam—no, Miss Susanna Sutherland. I tried contacting her today, but couldn’t get through, so I called Mrs. Underwood. Mrs. Underwood said she had gone to the hospital this morning for a checkup. But when I got there, she was lying on a bed in emergency. The nurse said she fainted at the hospital.”

Spencer deliberately paused there and looked up, trying to read Adrian Blackwood’s expression.

The sharp line of his jaw, which had been tightly set, seemed to loosen a little. But his brows were still locked together, and his eyes were full of confusion—and something that looked a lot like worry.

Spencer continued, “I was going to wait until she got home before giving her the agreement, but... she seemed to guess right away why I was there and told me to take it out. So I did. Then she wrote by hand that she was leaving with nothing, signed it, and... and she bit her own finger and used the blood as a fingerprint, Mr. Blackwood...”

By now, Adrian Blackwood’s brows were knotted even tighter.

Susanna had always been mild-tempered. What the hell was she doing? Picking a fight with him? Protesting? Making a statement?

He remembered calling her that morning. Right after he brought up divorce, the line had suddenly gone silent.

At the time, he thought she was angry and refusing to speak.

But what if she had passed out?

Was that why he stopped hearing her voice through the phone?

Adrian Blackwood rubbed at the center of his brow. “Did she say anything?”

His voice had gone hoarse, threaded with a hint of exhaustion.

His eyes rested on the red fingerprint at the bottom right corner of the paper. The longer he looked at it, the more it scraped at his nerves.

Spencer shook his head, his face troubled, then spoke again with extra caution.

“Mr. Blackwood... there’s one more thing...”

“Say it.”

Spencer paused, then pulled up the text message Susanna had sent earlier and placed the phone in front of Adrian Blackwood.

Adrian Blackwood looked at the message, and the veins on his forehead slowly started to stand out.

“She’s in a bigger hurry than I am?”

Spencer added, “Miss Susanna Sutherland said... she asks that you not be late.”

Adrian Blackwood tapped a finger on the desk. “I’m not blind.”

Spencer nervously swallowed. “I... what I meant was, tomorrow morning at that time is when Miss Nicole Hollister’s flight lands. Yesterday you specifically reminded me to remind you to pick her up.”

Adrian Blackwood slowly lifted a hand, pressing the web between his thumb and forefinger against his furrowed brow. After rubbing it for a moment, he said, “Then tell Susanna to move it to tomorrow afternoon. It’s such a tiny thing—do I really need to teach you that too?”