Chapter 2 The Ring Was Originally Meant for Clara

Momo had been a pure white dog.

But now his fur was almost entirely soaked in blood.

His limbs twisted outward at grotesque angles—every bone clearly shattered. Worse still, his body was covered in deep knife wounds.

Sylvia knelt on the ground, her hands trembling as she reached toward those wounds. Each one stabbed at her eyes like a blade.

Clara had lied.

Momo hadn't died in a car accident. He'd been tortured to death.

Just last night, Momo had curled up beside her, gentle and warm. Now he was nothing but a cold, brutalized corpse.

Sylvia sobbed, her voice breaking. "Momo, I'm so sorry. I came too late. I'm taking you home now."

The route back from that filthy drainage ditch overlapped with the paths Sylvia used to walk Momo every day.

She trudged home in a daze, cradling Momo's body. The familiar road had never felt so endless. Her chest felt like it was being stabbed over and over by invisible knives. Even breathing hurt.

It was afternoon when Sylvia finally reached home. She pushed open the door—and froze.

Clara sat on the sofa, leisurely eating fruit.

Nelson had brought her back.

Seeing the murderer right in front of her, Sylvia's suppressed rage and grief erupted all at once. She stormed forward and slapped Clara hard across the face.

"Tell me what happened to Momo before he died! Why did you do this to him?"

Clara's head snapped to the side. For a split second, she wanted to strike back—but remembering the fragile image she needed to maintain, she bit down her anger.

Tears spilled down her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Granger. It's all my fault. I didn't watch him carefully enough. I know you're in pain. Hit me, yell at me—whatever you need."

Sylvia grabbed Clara's carefully styled hair, her eyes blazing with hatred.

"I want you to pay for Momo's life!"

"Sylvia! Have you lost your mind?"

Nelson came rushing down the stairs. The moment he saw Sylvia gripping Clara's hair, he shoved Sylvia hard without hesitation.

Sylvia stumbled backward and fell, her head slamming into the coffee table behind her.

The impact sent waves of dizziness and darkness through her vision. But even through the pain, she could see Nelson checking Clara for injuries with tender concern.

Clara cried into his chest, shaking her head. "Nelson, please don't be angry at Ms. Granger because of this. I deserve it. If one slap isn't enough, she can stab me if she wants."

"That dog ran off on its own and got hit by a car. How is any of this your fault?" Nelson soothed her gently. "I know you have a kind heart. Don't think about it anymore."

Sylvia staggered to her feet. Hearing those words, she nearly laughed out loud—a bitter, desperate sound. Her eyes filled with anguish as she pointed at Momo's body nearby.

"Nelson, look at him! Do those wounds look like they came from a car accident?"

Her voice grew more anguished. "Have you forgotten how Momo used to wag his tail waiting for you to come home? Are you really going to stand there and let his killer go unpunished?"

Nelson glanced at Momo's body, surprise flickering across his face.

"This..."

He turned to Clara, his expression serious.

A flash of guilt crossed Clara's eyes, quickly masked. "After Momo bit me, I rushed out to look for him, but I couldn't find him anywhere..."

Sylvia immediately caught the contradiction, her mind sharp despite the overwhelming grief.

"But you said before that Momo died in a car accident. Don't you think your story doesn't add up?"

Clara was caught off guard. Unable to come up with an excuse, she simply lowered her head and cried.

"I heard there've been people abusing dogs lately. Maybe Momo just had bad luck and ran into them. Either way, it's all my fault. Ms. Granger, punish me however you want."

As Clara spoke through her tears, she moved closer to Sylvia—deliberately shifting her hand so the ring on her finger caught the light.

Sylvia's pupils contracted.

That ring.

It was from the matching set she and Nelson had designed together years ago.

They'd promised to exchange those rings at their wedding—that would be enough.

All these years, no matter how badly they fought, Nelson had never taken off that ring.

Every time Sylvia saw it, her heart warmed. She'd believed he still remembered their vows.

But now, in this moment, Sylvia realized with crushing clarity: Nelson never took off the ring because of her.

He kept it on because the matching women's ring was on Clara's finger.

Sylvia felt like an invisible hand was crushing her throat. She turned to Nelson, her expression shattered.

"You gave our couple's ring to Clara?"

Nelson replied dismissively, "The ring was designed for Clara in the first place."

In that instant, Sylvia couldn't hear anything else. She stared blankly at the ring on her own hand.

It had been for Clara all along?

Then what had she been all these years?

What did Momo's death even mean?

Heart-wrenching pain spread from her chest. Unable to bear it any longer, Sylvia suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood. The next moment, she collapsed unconscious.

Sylvia seemed to fall into a long, endless dream.

In it, she and Nelson met in college. She'd fallen for him at first sight and pursued him relentlessly.

Back then, Nelson had been nothing more than an illegitimate son of the Fields family.

For him, Sylvia had spent every penny of her savings. To help him secure deals, she'd drunk herself sick at business dinners—nearly ending up with a perforated stomach. She'd even convinced her father to use the family's resources to pave Nelson's path forward.

Little by little, over seven years, she'd helped Nelson become the rising business magnate he was today.

Everything had been moving in the right direction—but somehow, she and Nelson could never go back to what they'd been.

Images flickered through her mind: Nelson coaxing her gently, Nelson coldly declaring that Momo was just a dog. The memories tangled and collided, then shattered all at once.

Sylvia's eyes snapped open. Her pillow was soaked with cold sweat.

She stared at the pale ceiling, taking a moment to realize she was in a hospital. The last memory before she'd lost consciousness replayed in her mind.

Had Nelson brought her here?

A nurse entered the room. "You're awake. You vomited blood due to acute emotional distress. You need to be very careful about controlling your emotions from now on. No more major shocks."

Sylvia nodded weakly. "Okay."

Sylvia stayed in the hospital overnight. The next day, she went home.

She still had to take care of Momo's body. She needed to arrange a proper burial for him.

When she walked through the door, she found Clara still there.

And Clara was wearing a light blue dress.

The dress Sylvia had designed when she first entered the fashion industry. She'd treasured it carefully all these years, keeping it safe.

And now Clara was wearing it.

Even though Sylvia had set aside her sketchbook long ago to better support Nelson, that dress remained her greatest pride.

"Who said you could touch my things? Take it off!"