Chapter 7 Breaking Point

In an instant, Keira felt as if an ice-cold blade had pierced her heart, every breath tainted with the metallic taste of blood.

So the divorce papers were barely finalized, and he had already entered another relationship—with Zoey.

Overwhelming humiliation and despair instantly engulfed her.

She clutched the shirt with a death grip, her knuckles losing all color, yet her face remained unable to form any expression.

She heard herself speak with the last vestiges of forced calm.

"Mr. Coleman, we're divorced now. I have no obligation to do these things for you anymore."

"No obligation?"

Aiden suddenly grabbed her shoulders with such force that he nearly crushed her bones.

"Keira, don't be so ungrateful! Did you think that after the divorce, you could just be free of me? What your family owes me, what you owe me—you couldn't repay it in a lifetime!"

He stared at the feigned composure on her pale face, at the suppressed pain in her hollow left eye.

A twisted sense of vengeful satisfaction intertwined with inexplicable agitation.

He leaned in, whispering coldly into her ear, his breath scorching hot.

"Don't want to wash it? Fine. Please me, like you used to."

He paused, pulling her closer, and continued word by word.

"If I'm in a good mood, I might even help you deal with those people."

Keira's entire body began to tremble violently, tears finally escaping beyond her control.

Humiliation and fear dragged her into an abyss like countless hands.

She looked at Aiden, the man she had once loved deeply, who had destroyed everything beautiful in her life.

She lost all strength to resist.

Under Aiden's almost brutal treatment, she was like a flower devastated by a violent storm, broken and withering.

After it was over, Aiden suddenly realized her face was frighteningly pale, her entire being in a state of extreme panic, on the verge of collapse.

He froze, his throat feeling as if gripped by a massive hand, rendering him incapable of making a sound.

Keira struggled to get up, haphazardly putting on her clothes, not daring to look at him even once as she stumbled out of the bedroom.

The physical pain and despair in her heart made walking nearly impossible.

She wandered mindlessly on the road outside the estate area, her face as pale as a ghost, each step threatening to collapse.

'Just die like this.' She thought. Could she possibly be more humiliated, more miserable?

A black sedan slowly pulled up beside her.

The window lowered, revealing Sean's concerned face. "Keira? What's wrong?"

Seeing him, Keira's last vestige of strength completely crumbled.

Tears poured out silently in torrents.

Sean immediately got out of the car, supporting her as she nearly collapsed, her body ice-cold to the touch.

When he saw the marks of intimacy on her neck, his expression instantly darkened, his eyes roiling with terrifying anger.

"Was it him?"

His voice contained suppressed heartache.

He couldn't have imagined that the once lively, radiant young woman could be reduced to such a state.

He should have stopped her earlier, but what right did he have? He had only been secretly following her, having learned she wasn't doing well.

Keira nodded weakly, then hurriedly grabbed his sleeve, her voice breaking.

"It's my fault. I owe him."

Sean looked at her in this state, his heart feeling as if it had been violently wrenched.

He took a deep breath, suppressing his anger, and carefully helped her into the car. "I'll take you to the hospital first."

"No! No hospital!" Keira's trembling hands clutched his arm tightly, her eyes filled with terrified pleading.

"Please, don't take me to the hospital. I'm fine, really."

Sean looked at her and finally conceded.

He removed his coat and gently draped it over her shoulders, trying to provide some warmth.

The car fell silent, with only Keira's suppressed soft sobs.

After a long silence, Sean finally spoke, "Keira, be kinder to yourself. The last time you nearly took your own life, I happened to save you. Consider me your lifesaver, if you will. I don't need your gratitude—I just hope you can live well."

"Last time, it was you who saved me?" Keira started in surprise.

Sean looked at her through the rearview mirror and nodded slightly.

So it was he who had pulled her back from the cold despair when she had decided to end her life.

And again, at her most degraded moment, it was he she encountered.

Indescribable gratitude and sorrow intertwined.

She looked at Sean's solid, reliable back and pleaded in a low voice.

"Mr. O'Neill, I know this request is presumptuous, but if something happens to me, could you please look after Elodie?"

Sean gripped the steering wheel tightly, gazing deeply at her fragile yet still kind-hearted demeanor in the mirror.

He promised solemnly, "I will, but Keira, you must also promise me to live well."

Keira stared at the blurred scenery rapidly receding outside the window and smiled bitterly.

For her, living had long since become a prolonged torture.

Sean drove Keira back to Elodie's home.

He keenly sensed her extremely poor condition, her emotions on the brink of collapse.

But he didn't press for details, only leaving his contact information.

He repeatedly emphasized, "Call me for anything you need. Don't do anything foolish, Keira. While there's life, there's hope!"

Keira leaned against the cold door, slowly sliding to the floor.

Where was her hope?

Aiden's hatred, her family's exploitation, and her worsening health condition.

And that astronomical medical treatment fee—any one of these would be enough to crush her.

The doctor's words echoed in her ears.

She wanted to live, if only to repay Elodie and Sean's kindness.

But to live, she needed money.

Where else could she get money?

Martha would only force her to exchange it for benefits. Aiden wished her dead—it seemed there was only one path left.

That path she knew all too well, the most humiliating one.

A few days later, in a private room at an upscale club.

The acrid smell of smoke and alcohol, the greasy scent of perfume, and the raucous laughter of men mingled together, almost suffocating.

Keira wore the revealing uniform of a hostess.

She endured the pain in her left eye and waves of nausea as she mechanically forced a smile at an unsightly businessman.

She was beautiful, appearing pure and innocent without makeup, evoking sympathy, and versatile in style when made up.

Martha had recognized this quality, which was why she repeatedly sent her out to accompany clients for business dinners.

"Drink! Drink it!" Rhett rudely pushed a glass of hard liquor to her lips.

His other hand wandered inappropriately on her leg.

Keira's stomach churned violently.

She had barely eaten anything these past few days, and now, on an empty stomach, large amounts of strong alcohol burned her stomach like fire.

But she couldn't refuse. She needed the money.

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, pouring the fiery liquid down her throat.

Her throat and esophagus felt as if they had been slashed with a knife, her stomach suddenly convulsing.

"Good! That's the spirit! Have another!" Laughter and cheers erupted around her.

Another glass of alcohol was forced down.

Keira felt her vision darkening, a sharp ringing in her ears.

She suddenly covered her mouth, coughing violently, a metallic, sweet taste rising in her throat.

She involuntarily bent forward, but what came up wasn't food residue but bitter gastric juices.