Lost to Heaven and Earth

On the very first day Justin Foster regained his sight, the man I had served for three years was determined to prove he only loved another woman. Chloe Somers pointed at me, her eyes red as she demanded, "Didn't you say she was just a tool? Then use her as a target. Shoot her three times and prove it to me!" I was tied to the target post at the shooting range, blood soaking through my dress. The first shot tore straight through my wrist. The second shot grazed my ear. The third shot hit me dead-center in my shoulder. Justin Foster's eyes finally turned red, and he rushed toward me like a madman. But Chloe clutched her shoulder and sobbed, "Justin, it hurts so much..." He froze in his tracks, and ultimately turned around to scoop her into his arms. Before he walked away, I heard myself laughingly ask him, "Justin Foster, didn't you say you would marry me once you could see again?" He didn't look back. And I finally realized that the stupidest thing I had done over the last three years was to guide him out of the darkness. Clara Somers POV The sharp, cold scent of disinfectant filled the VIP ward's corridor, sterile and pungent. "A miracle! This is simply a medical miracle! The pressure on Justin's optic nerve has been completely relieved. He can see again!" The ward door swung open, the attending physician's voice trembling with sheer excitement. Sitting on the bench in the corridor, I stood up abruptly. Because I rose too quickly, my vision went black. My frail body swayed, and I had to prop myself against the wall to keep from falling. It had been three years. For over a thousand days and nights, I had been like a soulless shadow, never leaving the side of that temperamental, desperate man. Now, the miracle had finally happened. He could finally see. Justin's mother, Rachel Foster, wept tears of joy, her elegant, graceful face wet with tears. Then, she shifted her gaze to me, standing in the corner so quietly that I might as well have been invisible. The ecstatic look on her face slowly faded, replaced by cold, calculating scrutiny. "Clara Somers, come outside with me." In the hospital’s open-air garden, the early autumn wind carried a bitter chill. "Now that Justin's eyes are healed, it's time for the Foster family to get back on track," Rachel said, pulling a blank check from her limited-edition handbag and thrusting it toward me. "You've worked hard these past three years, and we won't treat you unfairly. Write down whatever number you want. But there's one condition—leave Justin forever, and never show your face in front of him again." I stared at the check but didn't reach for it. Memories of the last three years flashed uncontrollably through my mind. I remembered when Justin Foster first went blind. He had been like a rabid beast, smashing everything in the room. Shards of glass had sliced deep into my palms, leaving them dripping with blood, yet I had held him tight without uttering a single cry, letting him bite and claw at me to vent his rage. Eventually, he had calmed down under my touch. On countless late nights, he would bury his face in the crook of my neck, his voice raspy and possessive. "Clara, once my eyes are healed, I'm going to marry you. I'll take you away from the Somers family, and I'll make you the most envied Mrs. Foster in the entire city." Those tender vows still echoed in my ears, but now, reality crashed down on me like a bucket of ice-cold water. "Mrs. Foster," I said, my voice quiet and flat, devoid of any emotion as if I had long anticipated this day. "You know as well as I do that the Foster family only accepts respectable ladies from reputable families. A shameful illegitimate daughter like me has never harbored any delusions of marrying into your family." Rachel let out a cold snort. "At least you have some self-awareness. In that case, take the money and get out." "I don't want the money." I raised my head, looking Rachel in the eye. "I want you to help me get my mother out of the Somers family. Once she is safe, I will vanish immediately." Years ago, to appease the Foster family's fury toward Chloe Somers, the Somers family had threatened my mother’s life, forcing me to come to the Foster family to atone for her sins. Every ounce of humiliation I had swallowed over the past three years had been solely for my mother's sake. Rachel narrowed her eyes as she studied me, seemingly gauging my sincerity. After a tense silence, she nodded decisively. "Fine. I agree. I will have your mother settled abroad within a month. Until then, you had better keep your head down and get ready to pack your bags." "It's a deal." I cast my eyes downward, masking the sharp sting of pain in my chest. Just as the words left my mouth, the sharp, hurried clicking of high heels echoed from the garden entrance. "Justin! Where is Justin?!" My entire body went rigid. A woman in a red haute couture gown and perfectly styled waves came running toward us, weeping hysterically. It was Chloe Somers—the very culprit who had caused Justin Foster's car crash and subsequent blindness, only to flee the country and dump the entire mess onto me. The moment Rachel saw Chloe Somers, her face turned pale with rage. Pointing a finger, she screamed, "You shameless bitch! How dare you show your face here! If it weren't for you, Justin wouldn't have suffered for the past three years! Get out! Get the hell out of here!" Chloe Somers sobbed even harder, throwing herself onto her knees with a heavy thud. "I was wrong! I was just so scared back then..." "Security! Throw her out!" Rachel barked. Just as the guards were about to grab Chloe Somers, a window on the second floor of the VIP building swung open. A man stood there in loose hospital scrubs. Though his pale complexion bore the sickly cast of someone locked away from the sun, it couldn't diminish his chiseled, breathtakingly handsome features. Those eyes, once hollow and lifeless, were now locked with laser precision onto the woman in the red dress below. "Mom, let her in." Justin Foster's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an absolute, unquestionable authority. Shrouded in the shadows of the garden trees, I stared up at the man I had tended to night and day. I bit my lower lip so hard that the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I knew then that it was time to wake up from my dream.Clara Somers POV The atmosphere in the ward grew suffocatingly tense. Chloe Somers flung herself against the side of Justin Foster’s bed, weeping hysterically as her manicured hands clutched tightly at Justin's sleeve. "Justin, you can see... you can finally see! Do you have any idea how I survived these past three years? I was abroad, praying for you every single day, living a life worse than death!" Justin Foster leaned back against the head of the bed, his newly healed eyes squinting slightly against the light. He didn’t push Chloe Somers away. He simply listened to her sobbing in silence. Rachel stood by, shaking with rage. "Cut the act, Chloe Somers! You were the one who insisted on dragging Justin into that race, and you fled faster than anyone when the crash happened! Now that he’s cured, you crawl back to take the credit?" "I didn't! I swear I didn't!" Chloe Somers snapped her head around, her perfectly lined eyes turning venomous as they landed on me in the corner. She pointed a finger and shrieked, "It was her! It was that bitch, Clara!" I raised my eyes, watching her performance with cold detachment. "Justin, you have to believe me!" Chloe Somers turned back to Justin Foster, tears streaming down her face in a display of pure, fragile vulnerability. "After the crash, I wanted nothing more than to stay and care for you. But Clara, that illegitimate daughter... she was so jealous of my status as the eldest daughter of the Somers family. She wanted to use your tragedy to claim you for herself and steal my place! She colluded with the family to force me out of the country! If it weren't for her, I would have been the one by your side all these years!" Distorting the truth, shifting the blame. It was utterly absurd. To escape the Foster family's wrath, Chloe Somers had booked a flight and fled to Europe overnight. To appease Rachel's anger, the head of the Somers family had bound me hand and foot and thrown me to the Foster family. Now, every single sin was somehow being pinned on me. "You lying snake!" Rachel fumed. "You were the coward who ran away because you were terrified—" "Enough." Justin, who had remained silent the entire time, spoke up, cutting his mother off. His voice was low and gravelly, carrying the fragility of someone newly recovered, yet it held a bone-chilling coldness. He reached out, gently brushing away the tears on Chloe's face. The gesture carried a tenderness I had never once seen from him in all of my three years. "Chloe, don't cry anymore. I believe you." *I believe you.* Those three words pierced my heart like a dagger, twisting deep. Rachel stared at him in disbelief. "Justin, have you lost your mind? You believe this liar? Who do you think took care of you day and night for the past three years? It was Clara! When you threw tantrums and shattered everything in sight, she was the one who held you. When your migraines were unbearable, she massaged you through the night! How can you possibly—" "Mom, I said enough," Justin replied, his expression darkening with clear impatience. He turned his head, his gaze passing right over Rachel to finally land on me, tucked away in the corner. This was the first time since regaining his sight that Justin Foster was actually looking at me. For three years, he had only known me through touch. He knew I was thin, that my fingers were slightly calloused from manual labor, and that I always carried a faint, calming scent. Now, he was seeing me with his own eyes. I felt his gaze linger on my face for several seconds, as if he were trying to reconcile my face with his memory. His brow furrowed slightly. I didn't cry or scream. I simply stood there, perfectly still. A flash of undeniable awe flickered in Justin Foster’s eyes, though it vanished in an instant. But Chloe Somers, who had been watching him like a hawk, didn't miss it. A wave of frantic jealousy and hatred flashed across her face, her manicured nails digging deep into her palms. Justin Foster looked at me coldly, his tone returning to its usual aloof, condescending disdain. "Clara Somers, regardless of what scheme you used to force your way into my life, you did care for me over the last three years. For that, I am grateful." He paused, pulling Chloe Somers close against his chest before delivering his final verdict. "But gratitude is not love. The only woman I have ever loved, and will ever love, is Chloe. You are dismissed." Staring at the embracing couple, a wave of profound disgust churned in my stomach. I didn't offer a single word of defense. There was no point in trying to wake someone who was determined to play blind. I merely gave a slight nod, my voice as flat and empty as stagnant water. "Very well. I wish Mr. Foster and Ms. Somers eternal happiness." With that, I turned and walked out of the room, my posture straight and proud, without a single backward glance.Clara Somers POV Because my mother had not yet been safely sent abroad, I had no choice but to remain at the Foster estate for the time being. Eager to celebrate Justin Foster's recovery, Chloe Somers wasted no time throwing a lavish afternoon tea party in the Foster family's back garden, inviting all of her wealthy socialite friends. I had been in the kitchen helping prepare pastries when Chloe’s personal maid dragged me out to the garden. "Oh, look. Isn't this the Somers family’s shameful illegitimate daughter?" An heiress dressed in Chanel giggled, covering her mouth as she scanned me up and down in my simple apron. "Chloe, is it true that she spent the last three years wagging her tail like a dog to beg for Justin's attention?" "Exactly," Chloe Somers said, raising her bone china cup to take an elegant sip of tea. Her eyes gleamed with venomous satisfaction. "Her mother was a shameless mistress, so it's only natural she was born without a spine. Too bad all her begging was useless. She served him for three years, and Justin still doesn't want to spare her a second glance." The group of socialites burst into mocking laughter. I stood in place, my face blank, as if I weren't the target of their mockery. I turned to walk away. "Stop right there! Did I give you permission to leave?" Chloe Somers slammed her cup onto the table, marched over to me in a few strides, and delivered a stinging slap across my face. The force of the blow jerked my head to the side. Five angry red finger marks bloomed on my pale cheek, and a thin trickle of blood seeped from the corner of my mouth. "What do you think you are, putting on this arrogant, high-and-mighty act in front of me?" Chloe Somers hissed, her voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear. "Did you think you could turn the tables just because Justin Foster looked at you for a split second? Dream on!" Stepping back, she raised her voice and smiled at her friends. "Girls, since she loves playing the loyal dog so much, why don't we have her bark to entertain us today?" "Oh, yes! I've never heard an illegitimate daughter bark like a dog before!" Chloe Somers pointed to the grass. "Clara Somers, kneel. Let's hear you bark a couple of times!" I slowly turned my head, my frigid gaze locking onto Chloe Somers. She involuntarily shivered under my stare. "I refuse," I said calmly. "You dare refuse me?" Chloe Somers's face twisted with fury. Then, she sneered. "Clara Somers, have you forgotten about your mother rotting away in that mental asylum? Believe me, all it takes is one phone call from me, and she won't even get a scrap of food tonight." My pupils contracted. My hands clenched into tight fists at my sides, my nails biting so deep they nearly drew blood. Shaking violently, I began to bend my knees, inch by inch. Humiliating tears welled in my eyes, but I stubbornly refused to let them fall. Right before my knees hit the grass, a deep, icy voice echoed from behind us. "What is going on here?" Justin Foster, clad in a sharp, dark-gray bespoke suit, strode over, flanked by his bodyguards. His gaze swept across the crowd before landing on my swollen, bruised cheek. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. The moment she saw him, Chloe Somers’s arrogance evaporated. Like a startled bird, she threw herself into Justin's arms, her tears flowing instantly. "Justin! Thank goodness you're here! She... she was bullying me!" Justin Foster wrapped an arm around her, his eyes cold as he locked onto me. "What is the meaning of this?" "Justin, I only wanted to be nice and invite her to have tea with us, but she... she said that you don't love me at all! She said you'd eventually see through me and crawl back to her!" Chloe Somers sobbed, looking utterly devastated. "My friends tried to defend me, but she just stared at us with this terrifying, hateful look..." Justin's face darkened instantly. There was nothing he loathed more than having his feelings for Chloe Somers questioned. "Clara Somers, who do you think you are to speak of Chloe like that?" Justin Foster's voice was as sharp as ice. I stared at the man I had devoted three years of my life to, and felt any desire to explain die inside me. I knew he would never believe a word I said. Sensing his fury, Chloe Somers’s eyes gleamed with a dark idea. "Justin, don't you keep that massive mastiff in the back? Since she's so proud, why don't we let her go up against your dog? If she survives, I'll forgive her for what she said." Justin Foster paused, slightly taken aback. That massive mastiff was incredibly vicious; normally, only professional trainers dared to go near it. Forcing me to face it was no different from a death sentence. He looked down at the tears shimmering in Chloe's eyes, then back at me—standing there, cold and unyielding as always, looking as though I would never deign to bow to him. "Fine," Justin Foster ordered, cold and indifferent. "Bring Onyx out." A massive iron cage was rolled out, holding a giant, pitch-black mastiff that was letting out bone-chilling growls. The cage door was opened, and Onyx lunged out, charging straight at me. The socialites shrieked in terror, scrambling to get out of the way. But the moment the savage mastiff reached me, it froze. It sniffed my scent, and instead of tearing me apart, it whined and sank docilely to the ground at my feet. It nudged my leg with its massive head, letting out a soft, whimpering sound. During the past three years, Justin Foster had been blind and violently short-tempered; even his own dog had refused to go near him. I was the one who had risked getting bitten every single day to feed Onyx, bathe him, and brush his coat. Animals, it seemed, understood gratitude far better than humans. Chloe Somers’s face twisted in fury. "What is the meaning of this? Has this dog lost its mind?!" "Since this beast no longer recognizes its master, there's no point in keeping it around," Justin Foster said, his eyes darkening with malice. "Drag it away!" Several bodyguards immediately stepped forward, wielding heavy iron rods. "No!" I finally lost my composure. I threw myself over Onyx, shielding his massive body with my own. "Justin Foster, are you insane? What did he do wrong?!" "Pull her off!" The bodyguards forcibly dragged Clara Somers away and began to violently drag Onyx. Onyx's agonized whimpers and yelps echoed throughout the garden. Even as he collapsed, bloodied on the ground, his eyes remained fixed on me. I was pressed to the ground by the bodyguards, watching Onyx being tortured with my own eyes. My whole body shook, and a desperate, suppressed cry came from my throat. Chloe Somers walked over to me, looking down with a cruel, mocking smirk. She leaned in and whispered in a voice so quiet it was barely a breath: "Do you see now, Clara Somers? You are just like this dog. In the Foster family, if you don't obey your master, you get beaten to death." "How do you expect to compete with me?" Breaking free from the bodyguards, I crawled on my knees to the dying Onyx and cradled his head tightly in my arms. No tears. In this very moment, my tears had completely run dry.Clara's POV As night fell, the Foster family villa plunged into a deathly silence. Sitting under the dim light, I used a cotton swab dipped in iodine to gently dab at the scrapes on my arms and calves. These were the wounds left behind from earlier today, when the bodyguards had dragged me away while I was trying to protect Onyx. Dirt and blades of grass were embedded in the scrapes. Every touch brought a piercing, agonizing pain, but my face remained completely expressionless, as though my body didn't even belong to me. A steady set of footsteps suddenly echoed from outside the door. The door was pushed open, and Justin Foster's tall figure appeared in the doorway. He was wearing his silk loungewear, and as his gaze swept over my bloody, scratched arms, his eyes flickered slightly. Walking in, he placed a tube of imported scar-reduction cream on my worn-out nightstand. "Apply this. It won't leave a scar." Justin's voice still carried his usual high-and-mighty tone, but for once, there was a trace of awkward softness laced within it. "About earlier today..." Justin paused, as if searching for the right words. "That dog went wild, and I was worried it would hurt Chloe. I appreciate everything you've done to look after me these past three years. Thank you." Thank you. What cheap, empty words. I stared at the elegant tube of cream, but what flashed across my mind was the winter of Justin's first year of blindness. He had run a raging fever back then. Terrified and deeply insecure because of his blindness, he had clutched my hand in a death grip. I had knelt by his bedside the entire night, wiping down his body over and over again with warm water. In his delirious state, he had caressed my face, his hot tears splashing onto the back of my hand. He had said, "Clara, once I get better, I'll lay the finest things in the world at your feet. I will never let you suffer another shred of grievance." How laughable reality made those sweet promises seem now. I was grateful that throughout these three years of alternating torment and warmth, I had always guarded my heart. I had only ever viewed this as a necessary transaction to save my mother, never once giving him my genuine affection. "Thank you," I replied flatly, making no move to touch the cream. "My task was simply to care for you for three years. Now that you have recovered, I have only done my duty. There is no need for thanks." Justin frowned slightly; he clearly disliked the cold way I was drawing a line between us. Just as he was about to speak, Chloe Somers's sharp, tearful cries echoed from outside. "Justin! Where are you? Justin!" Without even knocking, Chloe burst straight in. When she saw Justin standing by my bed, and noticed the imported scar-reduction cream on the nightstand—the very cream she was too stingy to use even when she got a minor scrape—her eyes burned red with fury. "Justin Foster! What are you doing here?!" Chloe rushed over, grabbing his arm as her tears fell in torrents. "Are you feeling sorry for her? Have you actually fallen for this bitch?!" "Chloe, stop making a scene." Justin's head throbbed slightly from her shrill voice. "She got hurt. I'm only giving her some medicine out of gratitude for how she cared for me over the past three years." "Gratitude? What kind of gratitude requires you to deliver medicine yourself in the dead of night?!" Chloe refused to let it go, pointing at me and screaming insults. "I knew she was a homewrecker! She's just playing the martyr to seduce you! Justin, have you forgotten that she's nothing but a lowly illegitimate daughter?!" An illegitimate daughter. Yes. No matter how considerate I was, no matter how elegant or aloof, the blood of the Somers family's shameful mistress still ran through my veins. How could I ever compare to Chloe, who was born into nobility and cherished in the palm of his hand since childhood? Looking at Chloe's red, swollen eyes, Justin took a deep breath. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and coaxed her gently, "Stop crying. It was my lack of consideration. She doesn't deserve such good medicine." With that, under my calm gaze, Justin reached out and snatched back the tube of cream he had just placed on the nightstand. A gift given, only to be taken back. Even Chloe was stunned by this humiliating gesture. I merely sat there, not even batting an eyelash, as if they were just removing a piece of trash that had absolutely nothing to do with me. "That's not enough!" Chloe shoved Justin away and pointed at me, her eyes flashing with a manic light. "I don't believe you don't have feelings for her! If you really don't love her, and only love me, then prove it!" Justin's face darkened completely, but seeing Chloe's hysterical state, he suppressed his anger and asked, "How do you want me to prove it?" Chloe glared at me, gritting her teeth as she hissed out every single word. "I want you to use her as a target. Fire three shots at her yourself. If you dare to shoot those three times, I will believe that you only love me!"Justin's POV "What did you say?" My pupils constricted sharply as I stared at Chloe in my arms in utter disbelief. Using a living person as a target wasn't any kind of proof—it was a one-sided slaughter. "What? Do you feel sorry for her?" Chloe shoved me back, her tears streaming down like broken pearls, her voice shrill and agonizing. "You keep saying you love me, that you only treated her as a tool for three years. But now, when I just want to make up for the grievances I suffered during this time, you refuse! Justin Foster, have you fallen in love with her? Are you unwilling to let her die?!" "I haven't!" I retorted instinctively, though an inexplicable irritation flared in my chest. I looked at Clara Somers, who sat silently on the bed. She was too quiet—quiet like a beautiful doll without a soul. Even upon hearing such an absurd and brutal demand, there wasn't a single trace of fear or a plea for mercy on her face. This icy detachment, which shut me out entirely, thoroughly enraged me. "Fine," I ground out through clenched teeth. "I promise you." Half an hour later, in the private shooting range beneath the Foster family villa. The cold fluorescent lights illuminated the empty space in a stark, sterile white. Clara's hands were brutally tied behind her back by two bodyguards, who bound her tightly to a solid wooden target post in the distance with coarse hemp rope. The basement smelled of gunpowder and the cold, harsh scent of metal that lingered year-round. Clara's frail body pressed against the freezing wooden post. Due to the blood loss and pain, her face was as white as paper, yet her cool, clear eyes stared straight at me as I stood before the shooting platform. There was no resentment, no pleading—only a deathly silence, like a pool of stagnant water. Staring into those eyes caused a sudden, sharp pang in my heart, as if something were being violently ripped from my life. I forced myself to look away and handed Chloe a modified, low-recoil ladies' pistol. "Three shots." My voice was incredibly raspy. My hands, hanging at my sides, clenched tightly into fists, my knuckles turning white. "After these three shots, this matter is put to rest for good." "Of course." Chloe took the gun, her lips curving into a cruel, smug smirk. She held the gun with both hands, aiming at Clara in the distance. *Bang!* The first gunshot echoed deafeningly throughout the enclosed basement. "Ugh..." Clara let out a tightly suppressed groan, her body convulsing violently. The bullet pierced cleanly through her right wrist. Blood gushed out instantly, dripping down her pale fingers and onto the cold concrete floor, blooming into startling crimson blossoms. That was the very hand that had cooked for me, massaged me, and guided me through the darkness for countless days and nights. Now, it was a bloody mess. It felt as though an invisible hand had violently crushed my heart. I took an instinctive step forward, my Adam's apple bobbing hard. "Chloe..." "What's the rush? That was only the first shot." Chloe's eyes flushed red with excitement. She wasn't venting any grievances at all; she was thoroughly enjoying the thrill of controlling someone else's life and death. She raised the gun once more. This time, the muzzle tilted slightly upward, aiming straight at Clara's head. *Bang!* The second shot. The bullet grazed Clara's right ear, slicing off a small piece of flesh before embedding itself deep within the wooden post behind her. Blood flowed down her outer ear, staining half of her slender neck a shocking crimson. If Chloe's hand had trembled even a fraction of an inch, that shot would have blown Clara's skull wide open. "Enough!" Unable to bear it any longer, I lunged forward and grabbed Chloe's hand, forcing the gun down, my eyes shot through with terrifying red veins. "Chloe Somers, do you want her dead?!" "I do want her dead! She stole my place!" Chloe shrieked hysterically, wrenching her hand free and pulling the trigger a third time without the slightest hesitation. *Bang!* The third shot hit Clara squarely in the left shoulder. The massive impact slammed Clara's body back against the post before bouncing her heavily forward. The hemp rope dug deep into her flesh. She could no longer support herself; her head drooped limply, and blood quickly soaked through her faded cotton dress. "Clara!" My mind went completely blank, and that name—buried deep in my heart, one that I had only ever spoken aloud in the dark—slipped from my lips entirely beyond my control. I rushed forward like a madman, desperate to untie the ropes binding her. "Justin! My shoulder hurts so much..." Behind me, Chloe suddenly dropped the gun and squatted down, clutching her shoulder as tears streamed down her face. "The recoil was too strong. I think my shoulder is dislocated. It hurts so much..." My hands froze as I was untying the ropes. I looked back at the weeping Chloe, and then at the bloody, completely unconscious Clara before me. My heart felt as though it were being torn in half. One side screamed frantically to save Clara, while the other made cold, calculated assessments. *They're just flesh wounds,* I thought, gritting my teeth and desperately convincing myself. *I gave her so much money. I'll get her the best doctor; I won't let anything happen to her. Chloe is the one I love. Chloe is fragile, and she got hurt only to prove my love. I can't abandon her.* Yes, I loved Chloe. If not for Clara, that despicable illegitimate daughter, intruding on us, Chloe would have been the one by my side these past three years. Clara's injuries were merely her paying back the debt for usurping the Foster family home for three years! Taking a deep breath, I forcibly suppressed the suffocating pain in my chest. I turned to Chloe and scooped her up into my arms. "I'll take you to see a doctor," I told Chloe softly. Only Clara remained in the empty underground shooting range, bound to the target post and dripping with blood. Blood went *drip, drip* onto the ground. In the dead silence of the room, it sounded like the ticking clock of a countdown to death.Clara's POV Cold. A biting, freezing wind laced with the salty stench of seawater whipped against my face like knives. I struggled to open my eyes. A sharp, intense pain instantly swept through my body from my wrist, shoulder, and ear, causing me to gasp. I found myself tied to a thick concrete pillar. Beneath me were coarse sand and rocks. Less than two meters ahead of me was a sheer, bottomless cliff, below which lay a raging sea crashing violently against black jagged rocks. "You're awake?" A voice dripping with malice spoke up beside me. Struggling to turn my head, I saw that Chloe was also tied to a pillar. However, unlike my bloody, battered state, the ropes on her were loose, her clothes were neat, and not a single strand of her hair was out of place. Not far away stood several burly men wearing black ski masks, holding knives and clubs. "Where is this?" My voice was so raspy I could barely make a sound, and my throat was thick with the taste of blood. "The seaside cliff. I handpicked this beautiful spot," Chloe said, staring at me with a venomous smirk. Lowering her voice, she hissed, "Clara Somers, you certainly are hard to kill. You survived three gunshots. But it doesn't matter. Today, you won't walk away alive." A flicker of understanding crossed my cool eyes. "You hired these men." "So what if I did?" Chloe laughed triumphantly, a crazed look in her eyes. "As long as you're breathing, Justin's eyes will always wander to you. You think I can't tell how he looks at you? Only when you vanish from this world completely can I secure my place as Mrs. Foster in peace!" "You're pathetic." I looked at her, my eyes devoid of fear, filled only with deep pity. "What you stole through lies is something you can never hold onto, even if you kill me." "Shut up! You bitch!" Striking a nerve, Chloe's face twisted in rage. Just then, the shrill wails of police sirens and the roar of a helicopter sounded in the distance. "They're here!" The leader of the kidnappers immediately tossed his cigarette butt aside. He untied Chloe and me from the pillars, dragging us roughly to the very edge of the cliff. He bound our waists with two long ropes, clutching the other ends tightly in his hands. If the kidnapper let go or cut the ropes, we would plunge instantly into the endless abyss behind us. Several black Maybachs screeched to a halt nearby. Escorted by a crowd of bodyguards and police officers, Justin Foster rushed out. When he saw me covered in blood and Chloe weeping hysterically at the edge of the cliff, Justin's face turned stark white, and his eyes grew blood-red. "Stay back! One step closer and I'll push them both off!" the kidnapper leader roared at Justin, brandishing a sharp dagger. "I'll give you however much money you want! Don't touch them!" Justin's voice cracked with panic. "I don't want money! I want a life!" The leader sneered. "’m only claiming one life today. You can save only one of these women. The other will die alongside my men!" The air seemed to freeze in that very instant. Only one could be chosen. Justin stared fixedly at the two women at the edge of the cliff. Tears streamed down Chloe's face as she shook her head frantically. "Justin, save me! I'm so scared! I don't want to die, Justin, save me!" But I was terrifyingly quiet. I didn't cry, nor did I call out for help. The ocean breeze whipped my long hair across my face, and I simply looked at Justin in silence. In my clear eyes, there had once been warmth and endurance. Now, there was only a barren, desolate silence. "Counting down from ten! Ten! Nine!" The kidnapper pressed his dagger against the two ropes. Justin looked at the gunshot wound on my shoulder that was still oozing blood. In that brief moment, I felt as though he was on the verge of calling out my name. But Chloe's shrill, desperate screams cut him off completely. "Three! Two!" "Let Chloe go!" Closing his eyes, Justin screamed out the fate-sealing decision with all his might. At the edge of the cliff, the howling wind seemed to pause for a second. Looking at the man who had abandoned me without a single shred of hesitation, I suddenly let out a soft laugh. That laugh was poignant and resolute, as if a thousand pounds had been lifted from my chest. For three years, I had held his hand in the dark, endured his explosive temper, and soothed his terrors. I had believed that even if there was no love, there would at least be a shred of basic human empathy. As it turned out, in his eyes, I was worse than a dog. When his dog died, he felt rage; but I was merely a sacrificial lamb used to preserve his true love. "Alright! Justin is a man of his word!" The kidnapper leader grinned wickedly and slashed his dagger down. The rope tied around my waist snapped instantly. The moment I lost my balance, my body fell backward like a withered autumn leaf, plunging into the endless abyss. Amidst the rushing wind of my rapid descent, I looked up at the man on the cliff edge whose eyes had suddenly flown open, his face masked in utter shock and terror. "Justin Foster," my voice was as light as a sigh, yet it clearly pierced through the howling sea breeze, crashing into his eardrums, "the thing I regret most in this life... is being your eyes for three years." With those final words, my frail body was completely swallowed by the churning black waves.