The Asylum Bride's Revenge

I was framed as a corporate spy and personally sent to a psychiatric hospital by my fianc.

He forced me to sign a confession so he could use it as a gift when marrying Linda.

He didn't know that the eight week old baby in my womb had already been destroyed by his drugs.

I smiled and signed it. I even agreed to be a bridesmaid at the wedding.

Seven days left.

After seven days, he would know the truth.

And that wedding would be my final gift to him.

Sophia POV

The 100th day since I was locked in the psychiatric hospital.

The TV was broadcasting news of Tristan Shaw's upcoming wedding.

The orderly pressed my head down, forcing me to swallow two white pills.

"Swallow them. Tristan said if you take your medicine obediently, you can attend the wedding."

I didn't resist. I swallowed them.

The pills scraped down my throat. Very bitter.

I stared at the man on the screen. Tristan Shaw, a name I'd called for ten years, and the person who personally sent me here.

Five years ago, the Shaw Group's core data was leaked, and hundreds of billions in assets evaporated.

All the evidence pointed to me.

Tristan didn't believe my explanations. He only said one thing: "Sophia Lane, even a dog I raise would wag its tail. All you do is bite."

From that day on, I became the Shaw family's criminal.

The iron door opened.

Marcus walked in and tossed a document onto the filthy sheets.

"Sign it."

I picked up the document.

Termination of Adoption Agreement.

And a confession statement admitting that I'd sold the Shaw Group's secrets for money years ago.

"Tristan said once you sign this, he'll let you out."

Marcus covered his nose, unwilling to look at me for even a second. "Linda is a kind person. She wants your blessing at the wedding. Sophia, this is your last chance to atone."

My fingers trembled uncontrollably.

A side effect of long-term psychiatric medication.

Atone.

For five years, I'd been rotting away in that word.

I picked up the pen and signed my name on the confession admitting I was a corporate spy.

I used to refuse to sign even if it killed me, because I hadn't done it.

Now it didn't matter.

"How many days until the wedding?" I asked. Due to prolonged dehydration, my voice was very hoarse.

Marcus collected the documents. "Seven days. What, can't wait to watch Tristan marry someone else?"

Seven days.

I looked at the dingy gray sky outside the window.

Just yesterday, I'd dug up that buried pregnancy test from the hospital's flower bed.

That was the reason I was sent here.

Two months pregnant.

To pave the way for Linda, to punish me for my "betrayal," Tristan forcibly sent me here to "get treatment."

The baby dissolved into a pool of blood on the third day, under the influence of the drugs.

I stood up. My body swayed.

I'd promised Tristan's mother that I would watch over him until he established himself, until someone could replace me in taking care of him.

Seven more days and he'd be married.

My promise was about to expire.

This rotten life should end too.

"Let's go," I said.

Marcus froze for a moment.

The car was parked in the courtyard.

I sat in the back seat.

The car window reflected my face. Extremely thin, with sunken eye sockets.

I touched my empty abdomen.

Tristan, I've repaid the Shaw family's kindness in raising me.

For the remaining seven days, it's time to settle our five-year-old grudge.

Sophia POV

The car didn't go back to the Shaw house. It went straight to the skyscraper in Manhattan.

The rotating restaurant on the top floor had been reserved.

I stood at the entrance of the magnificent hall wearing an ill-fitting hospital gown.

Tristan sat by the window, cutting steak for Linda.

He wore a well-tailored suit, his movements refined.

Hearing footsteps, he didn't even look up.

"What are you standing there for? Come here."

His voice was cold.

I walked over.

With every step, the old injury in my knee hurt. That was the root of the problem left from kneeling in the snow all night five years ago to help him secure an investment.

"Tristan, don't be like this."

Linda laughed sweetly, feeding a piece of steak to Tristan's mouth. "Sophia just got out. She must be starving."

Tristan ate the meat, then finally turned to look at me.

His gaze scraped over me.

"You've lost weight."

He commented, "The hospital food doesn't suit your taste."

I lowered my eyes. "It's fine."

"Sit."

Tristan pointed to the seat across from him.

The waiter brought out a serving of foie gras.

The fishy smell hit my nostrils directly.

I hated eating organ meat most, even expensive foie gras, because when I was homeless as a child, I survived by scavenging rotten meat from trash cans.

Tristan knew this.

Five years ago, he would still pick out the foie gras and replace it with desserts I liked.

Now, he only wanted to watch me suffer.

"Eat." Tristan tapped the table. "Specially ordered to celebrate your release from prison."

Release from prison.

In his mind, the psychiatric hospital was a prison for me, this "corporate criminal."

I picked up the knife and fork.

My hands were shaking badly. I couldn't cut it.

Tristan let out a scoff. "What, playing pitiful? When you were stealing company data, your hands were quite steady, weren't they?"

That matter again.

I didn't explain.

I'd explained it countless times. It was useless.

I speared the entire block of foie gras and stuffed it into my mouth.

The greasiness and fishy smell exploded in my mouth. I bit down hard, didn't chew, and swallowed it whole.

My esophagus hurt from the obstruction.

"Does it taste good?" Linda asked, her eyes full of mockery.

"It's good." I picked up my water glass, gulped down a large mouthful of ice water to suppress the urge to vomit. "Thank you for treating me to all this."

The expression on Tristan's face froze for a moment.

He didn't like this dead look of mine.

The old me would have smashed plates when wronged, would have shouted loudly "I didn't do it."

Now I'd learned to put away my temper and obediently follow Tristan's instructions.

"Since you're out, don't be idle."

Tristan tossed over a room key card. "Linda's wedding dress needs some detail adjustments these days. Go help. Don't forget that you studied design too."

Studied design.

I looked at that room key card.

My hand was the one he stomped on and broke on that rainy night. I could never pick up a paintbrush again.

"Okay."

I took the room card and bowed. "If there's nothing else, I'll leave first."

I turned and left.

My back was very straight.

Tristan watched my retreating figure, his brows furrowing tighter and tighter.

"Tristan, she seems different," Linda said softly.

"She's pretending."

Tristan snorted coldly, cutting a piece of bloody steak. "This kind of ungrateful person who could sell out her family for money, she's the best at acting."

I rushed into the bathroom.

Everything I'd just swallowed came back up, all acidic water and blood streaks.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

Six more days.

As soon as I sent Linda down the wedding aisle, my mission would be complete.

Sophia POV

I was brought back to the Shaw mansion.

Not to my room, but to the servants' quarters.

"Tristan said you don't deserve to live upstairs."

The housekeeper threw me a moldy blanket. "Sophia, behave yourself. Now Linda is in charge of the Shaw family."

I made the bed and lay down on it.

The bed board was very hard, making my bones ache.

In the middle of the night, someone knocked on the door.

It was Linda.

She wore silk pajamas and held a cup of hot milk in her hands.

"Sophia, are you asleep?"

Linda pushed the door open and fanned the air with her hand in disgust. "This place really stinks. Only you could get used to living here."

I sat up and leaned against the wall. "Do you need something?"

"I'm trying on my wedding dress tomorrow. You have to come."

Linda put the milk on the table. "Tristan said you have to kneel and arrange my train. Just like five years ago, when you knelt in front of that investor."

My body tensed.

That time I knelt was to beg the other party to spare Tristan.

In Tristan's eyes, it became evidence of my degradation.

"Okay," I said.

Linda froze.

Her eyes rolled, and suddenly she splashed the hot milk on my face.

The scalding liquid flowed down my cheeks, burning my skin red.

"Oops, my hand slipped."

Linda laughed, throwing the empty cup on the floor. "Sophia, don't blame me. Blame yourself for having a worthless life. Tristan said keeping you alive is just to let you watch us be happy."

I wiped the milk stains from my face.

Very hot, but better than the cold in my heart.

"I know."

I looked at Linda. "I wish you two will be together forever and always be happy."

Linda was infuriated by my reaction.

"Sophia, what are you acting so noble for! That bastard of yours has already been aborted, so why are you still hanging around here?"

Bastard.

That was Tristan's child.

My hands gripped the sheets tightly.

"Linda."

I raised my head, my eyes frighteningly calm. "I'll leave. Once you're married, I'll leave right away. I won't be an eyesore."

Linda felt uneasy from my gaze. She cursed "crazy woman" and turned to leave.

I got out of bed and washed my face with cold water.

The face in the mirror had a large burn, red and swollen.

I didn't need medicine.

This pain could keep me sober.

I pulled out the signed termination agreement from under my pillow.

Every word on it reminded me: Tristan had long stopped wanting me.

I persisted for five years, for that promise, for that ridiculous love.

Now it was time to wake from the dream.

The next day.

The bridal shop.

Linda wore a custom wedding dress worth tens of millions, standing on the fitting platform.

Tristan sat on the sofa, holding a magazine, but his eyes kept glancing toward the corner.

I knelt on the floor.

I held a needle and thread, repairing a snag in the train.

Linda had deliberately damaged it and insisted I fix it on the spot.

"Ouch!" Linda suddenly cried out. "You pricked me!"

She kicked my shoulder.

I wasn't prepared and fell backward, my hand pressing into the pin box on the floor.

Several long needles pierced my palm. Blood welled up.

"What happened?"

Tristan put down the magazine and strode over.

"Tristan, she did it on purpose!" Linda accused him with red-rimmed eyes. "She's jealous of me and deliberately pricked my leg with the needle!"

Tristan glanced at Linda's leg. Not even a red mark.

Then he looked at me.

Blood was still dripping from my palm, the drops falling on the pure white wedding train, especially conspicuous.

"You got it dirty."

Tristan frowned, his tone disgusted. "Sophia, why is your blood so filthy?"

I hid my hand behind my back.

"I'm sorry."

I lowered my head. "I'll compensate you."

"Can you afford it?" Tristan sneered. "Even if you sold yourself, you wouldn't be worth this corner of the dress."

He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped Linda's non-existent wound.

As for the blood all over my hand, he turned a blind eye.

"Go wash it clean."

He ordered, "Don't bring the bloody smell to the wedding. It's unlucky."

I crawled up and staggered toward the bathroom.

Behind me came Linda's coquettish voice. "Tristan, send her away. I'm scared just looking at her."

"Endure it for a few days."

Tristan's voice came through. "After the wedding is over, send her to the African branch. Let her atone there for the rest of her life."

Africa.

I turned on the faucet, washing the blood from my hand.

He'd already arranged my escape route.

Unfortunately, he miscalculated one thing.

Dead people can't go to Africa.

Sophia POV

Torrential rain.

The Shaw house was hosting a bachelor party tonight.

The garden was brightly lit with a towering champagne fountain.

As a "servant," I was assigned to cut fruit in a corner.

My hand was injured, so my movements were very slow.

"Faster! Didn't you eat?"

The housekeeper came over and slapped the back of my head.

I didn't stand steady, and the fruit knife cut my finger.

New wounds on top of old ones.

I didn't make a sound and switched to my other hand to continue cutting.

In the center of the hall, Tristan was being surrounded by people toasting him.

Someone asked, "Tristan, what about that Sophia? I heard she was released?"

"She's working in the back."

Tristan swirled his wine glass. "Those who make mistakes must be punished. The Shaw family doesn't support freeloaders."

"You're still magnanimous. If it were me, I would have sent this kind of corporate spy to prison long ago."

Everyone laughed.

I finished cutting the last piece of watermelon and carried the plate out.

The rain was getting heavier.

I was soaked through, and the fruit on the plate was also drenched.

Just as I reached the pool, a foot stretched out.

It was Rachel Stone, Linda's best friend.

I was tripped and fell right into the pool.

A loud splash.

The early winter water was bone-chillingly cold.

Screams and laughter rang out around me.

I couldn't swim.

I thrashed in the water, choking down several mouthfuls.

Through the water's surface, I saw people on the shore watching the show.

Tristan stood at the back of the crowd, holding a cigarette between his fingers, watching coldly.

No intention of saving me.

Five years ago, when I was beaten by a group, he watched the same way and said, "This is what you deserve."

I gave up struggling.

My body slowly sank.

Just then, a hand pulled me up.

It was an unfamiliar man.

He dragged me ashore and took off his jacket to cover me.

"Are you okay?"

His voice was deep, with anger.

I lay on the ground coughing violently, spitting out several mouthfuls of dirty water.

I looked up and saw the man's face clearly. It was Ethan Grant, Tristan's business rival.

"Thank you."

I pushed away his jacket and struggled to stand up.

I couldn't accept his kindness.

In these seven days, I couldn't form bonds with anyone.

"Tristan, is this how you treat your guests?" Ethan looked at Tristan, his tone mocking.

Tristan walked over, his gaze falling on me.

My wet clothes clung to my body, outlining my skeletal frame.

"If you like this kind of goods, I don't mind giving her to you."

Tristan flicked his cigarette ash. "She's just damaged goods nobody wants anyway."

My body trembled.

I didn't look at Ethan, nor at Tristan.

I bent down to pick up the fruit plate from the ground, though the fruit inside had already scattered everywhere.

"Never mind."

I said, my voice calm. "Someone like me doesn't deserve Ethan Grant."

I turned around, dragging my soaked body, walking step by step into the rain.

Back in the servants' quarters.

I started running a fever.

Hot and cold all over, my head felt like needles were jabbing it.

I curled up under the blanket.

If only there hadn't been that data leak case five years ago.

Back then, Tristan would still carry me on his back for ten miles to buy good food.

Now, he would just watch me drown.

I pulled out a tin box from under the bed.

That was my only luggage.

Inside was just one photograph.

A photo of me and Tristan's mother, Mrs. Shaw.

I touched the gentle woman in the photo. "I can't hold on much longer. In four more days, I'll come find you."

Footsteps sounded outside the door.

Tristan pushed the door open.

He reeked of alcohol.

"Did Ethan touch you just now?"

He walked over, yanked off the blanket, and grabbed my wrist.

"Let go." I was too weak from the fever, my voice soft.

"Stop pretending to be pure."

Tristan threw me onto the bed. "Back then you could sell the company for money, now you can sell your body to climb up, right? Sophia, you truly disgust me."

He pulled out a stack of cash from his wallet and threw it at my face.

"Go buy some medicine. Don't die before the wedding. It's unlucky."

The bills scattered across the bed.

Tristan slammed the door and left.

I picked up one bill.

It was all stained with Tristan's insults.

I folded the bills one by one and placed them by my pillow.

I'd keep this money.

I'd need it to buy sleeping pills.

Sophia POV

My fever broke, but the cough never got better.

My lungs felt like they were on fire.

Early in the morning, the entire Shaw household was in chaos.

Linda's wedding ring had gone missing.

It was a pink diamond that Tristan had specifically bid for at an auction, worth a fortune.

"It must have been stolen!"

Linda cried like a pear blossom in rain. "Yesterday only Sophia went into my room!"

Everyone's gaze focused on me.

I was wiping the stair railing.

Tristan walked over, looking down at me.

"Hand it over."

I stopped what I was doing. "I didn't take it."

"In the entire Shaw house, besides you, this thief with a record, who else would do such a thing?"

Tristan's words were like nails.

Criminal record.

Referring to that confession statement I was forced to sign.

"Search her!" Linda shouted.

Two bodyguards walked up and held me down.

"Tristan."

I looked at him. "You also think it was me?"

Tristan didn't meet my eyes, saying coldly, "The evidence is conclusive. Stop wasting words."

The bodyguards roughly searched my entire body.

Besides the few bills of change left from buying medicine, there was nothing in my pockets.

"It's not on her, it must be hidden in her room!"

Linda led people charging into the servants' quarters.

A thorough ransacking.

The sheets were torn, the pillow slashed open.

Finally, Linda kicked over that tin box.

The photograph fell out.

That was my most treasured possession.

Linda stepped on the photograph and ground it hard with her foot.

"Found it!"

She dug out a diamond ring from a crevice in the mattress. "Right here! Caught red-handed!"

I looked at that photograph that had been stepped on and soiled.

As for how the ring got into the mattress, I didn't want to ask or argue.

Too clumsy.

But Tristan believed it.

Or rather, he needed a reason to hate me.

"Sophia."

Tristan looked at the ring. "You're truly hopeless."

"Since you like money so much, this ring is yours."

He threw the ring on the floor. "Take it and get lost. Don't let me see you again."

I squatted down.

I didn't pick up the ring.

I carefully picked up that photograph and brushed off the dust.

In the photo, Mrs. Shaw's smiling face was somewhat blurred.

"What, not enough?"

Seeing me not pick up the ring, Tristan became even more furious. "Five years ago you sold the company for billions, now you look down on these tens of millions?"

I stood up, pressing the photograph to my heart.

"Mr. Tristan Shaw."

For the first time, I addressed him so formally. "I didn't leak the data from five years ago."

"Enough!"

Tristan cut me off. "Still lying at this point! All the network addresses pointed to your computer, the transfer records were also from your account! The evidence is ironclad!"

I laughed.

That kind of laugh when helplessness reaches its extreme.

Back then, my computer was taken by Marcus to be repaired, the account was opened by Marcus for me.

I'd said so. He didn't believe me.

Because Marcus was his most trusted assistant, and I was the "wolf that could never be tamed."

"Fine."

I nodded. "I took it. I stole the ring, I sold the data. I'm the bad person, you're all good people."

I admitted it.

Since I was going to die anyway, what did carrying infamy matter?

"Lock her in the basement!"

Tristan didn't want to see my face anymore. "Starve her for three days. She can come out when she's willing to admit her mistakes."

The basement.

Dark and damp there, rats running rampant.

I was pushed inside.

The moment the iron door closed, the light disappeared.

I fumbled in the darkness to sit down.

Three days.

Exactly one day before the wedding.

Tristan, you really know how to calculate time.

I hugged my knees and closed my eyes in the darkness.

Three more days.

This road was finally nearing its end.

Sophia POV

I was locked in the basement for a full three days.

There was no food or water here.

I survived by licking water droplets that seeped down the walls.

My stomach condition flared up, the pain making me roll on the ground.

But I didn't make a sound.

Before, when I cried out in pain, Tristan would feel sorry for me. Now when I cried out in pain, he'd only think I was acting.

On the evening of the third day, the door opened.

Marcus stood in the doorway.

"Come out. Tristan wants you to go to the cemetery."

I supported myself against the wall to stand.

My legs were so weak I nearly fell.

"Where to?"

"Mrs. Shaw's death anniversary." Marcus said, "Tristan wants you to kneel there and repent."

Mrs. Shaw's death anniversary.

My eyes flickered.

That's right, today was the fifth anniversary of Mrs. Shaw's death. Back then, she had a heart attack from the shock of the data leak news.

I was taken to the public cemetery.

Tristan was already there.

He wore a black trench coat, standing in front of the tombstone.

Linda stood beside him, holding a black umbrella.

"Kneel."

Seeing me arrive, Tristan spoke coldly.

I walked over and dropped to my knees with a thud.

The photo on the tombstone was very kind.

That was the only person in this world who had given me warmth.

"Mother."

Tristan looked at the tombstone. "I brought the criminal."

"Sophia, tell my mother the truth."

He turned to look at me, a trace of expectation in his eyes. "As long as you admit you were wrong back then, as long as you're willing to change, I..."

"I was wrong."

I interrupted him.

I knelt on the ground.

"Mrs. Shaw, I wronged the Shaw family. I shouldn't be alive."

Tristan froze.

He hadn't expected me to admit fault so readily.

All the blame he'd prepared stuck in his throat.

"Since you know you were wrong, behave yourself from now on."

He tugged at his tie. "Tomorrow at the wedding, you'll be a bridesmaid. Don't embarrass the Shaw family."

Bridesmaid.

Making the ex be a bridesmaid. That was the greatest humiliation.

"Okay."

I agreed very readily.

After the memorial, Tristan took Linda and left first.

I stayed behind.

"I'll talk to her a bit more." I said to Marcus.

Marcus glanced at the time. "Hurry up. The car is waiting for you below."

Everyone left.

Only the sound of wind remained in the cemetery.

I pulled out that tin box from my pocket.

I dug a hole in the soil beside the tombstone with my hands.

My nails broke, my fingertips bled. I felt no pain.

I buried the box inside.

Inside were that photograph and the diary I'd written for Tristan over these ten years.

Those girlish thoughts, those grievances that couldn't be voiced. All buried here.

I lay on the mound of earth, saying softly, "I did what I promised you."

"You said to watch over him, not to let him be destroyed by hatred. These five years, I let him hate me. Better than letting him hate the world."

"Now he's getting married, and Linda will take care of him. I should rest too."

I patted the soil off my hands and stood up.

The setting sun stretched my shadow very long.

The wind blew past.

I took one last look at the tombstone.

Goodbye.

After tomorrow, Sophia will exist in this world no more.

Back in the car.

Marcus handed me a white formal dress.

"Tomorrow's bridesmaid dress."

I took it.

It was a style I'd designed five years ago. Linda had taken it and modified it, turning it into the current bridesmaid dress.

I'd wear clothes I designed myself to send the man I loved to marry someone else.

"Pretty good."

I touched the fabric. "Very suitable for a funeral."

"What did you say?" Marcus didn't hear clearly.

"Nothing."

I looked out the window.

It was dark.

Before dawn comes the darkest hour.

As long as I endured it, there would be release.

I closed my eyes and shed a tear.

If there's another life, I don't want to fall in love with Tristan again.