The hospital room door was flung open.

Victoria Windsor entered arm-in-arm with Victor Sullivan, both beaming. Alexander Valentine followed silently behind them.

All three froze in shock.

Isabella Valentine sat on the hospital bed, drenched in black paint. Her hair, face, and hospital gown were soaked, even the sheets stained dark.

"Who did this?" Victoria shrieked, rushing forward.

Natalie Sullivan crossed her arms. "Me."

Victor's face darkened as he raised his hand to strike. Alexander quickly stepped between them. "Uncle Victor, let's talk this through."

Isabella forced tears. "Don't be angry, Uncle. Natalie's still young—"

"Young?" Victor roared. "She's just one month younger than you! Look how mature you are!"

Isabella suddenly gagged. "I'm fine... Natalie just misunderstood—"

"Misunderstood?" Natalie scoffed. "You gave my sister-in-law saffron! The police arrested your grandmother!"

Victor's eyes sharpened.

Isabella stammered, "It was just herbal tea—"

"Bullshit!" Natalie pointed at her face. "Empress Wu killed her own daughter to frame the queen. You're not fit to mention that! My sister-in-law would never stoop so low!"

Isabella turned pale, leaping from bed toward the bathroom. Victoria frantically rang for the nurse.

"Mrs. Valentine, my deepest apologies," Victor said guiltily.

Victoria forced a smile. "Just children playing around."

Victor grabbed Natalie's wrist. "Outside. Now."

Alexander intervened. "Uncle, the police did make an arrest. Natalie isn't being unreasonable."

Victor released his grip, glaring at his daughter.

Natalie smiled sweetly at Alexander. "Thanks, Alex."

Ten days later, at Sullivan Group's centennial gala...

The ballroom glittered with chandeliers and elite guests. Just as ceremonies began, the doors swung open.

Isabella glided in on crystal heels. Her nude gown, encrusted with diamonds, shimmered under the lights. Perfectly timed, she became the instant center of attention.

"Who invited her?" Natalie frowned.

Ethan Sullivan glanced toward the stage. "Who else?"

"Blindest man in the family," Natalie muttered.

Adrian Sullivan cleared his throat. "I did."

Isabella's gaze locked onto Ethan across the room. In his navy suit, he stood out like a crane among chickens. Despite his contempt, she couldn't help moving toward him.

"Sit here," Adrian indicated the empty seat beside him.

During performances, Isabella circulated among guests. Mistaken for Ethan's girlfriend, she accepted congratulations with enigmatic smiles, letting misconceptions spread.

Ethan watched coldly, dialing his phone. "Bring my wife."

Thirty minutes later, Sophia Laurent arrived. A simple white blouse and skirt only accentuated her ethereal beauty. Ethan took her hand, leading her to the podium.

"This is my wife," he announced into the microphone. "We've been married three years."

The room erupted.

Isabella's smile shattered.

Sophia's eyes widened in shock. Ethan gazed at her, voice tender yet firm. "I love my wife very much."

Tears welled in Sophia's eyes. In this moment, every hardship became worthwhile.