Chapter 2Reborn from the Ruins of Marriage

When I was discharged, Jack didn't come to pick me up.

But, unexpectedly, he ordered a bouquet of flowers for me.

In five years of marriage, he had sent countless flowers to every paramour, yet I, his lawful wife, was receiving them for the first time.

In the past, even if he had casually tossed me a simple card, I would have treasured it, framed it, and collected it.

But faced with the huge bouquet of lilies, I simply refused to sign for them.

Jack, upon hearing this, exploded in a fit of rage, his voice booming from the delivery man’s phone.

"Clara, you ungrateful wretch! I'd sooner throw money at a dog than give it to you!"

He had no idea I was allergic to lilies; the pollen would cause severe breathing difficulties.

During dinner, Jack suddenly returned to the Thorne estate with Lady Seraphina.

I treated them as if they were invisible, continuing to eat without a care. Jack, seeing my indifference but unable to erupt, fumed and stomped out to the balcony to smoke.

Seraphina, her stilettos clicking, swayed her hips like a viper and sat beside me.

"Still have an appetite? Look at that waist; you're as plump and greasy as a sow."

"And I hear women who've birthed children are loose and dry down there, can't even hold a quill."

"In your state, do you truly have the nerve to cling to the title of Lady Thorne?"

Seraphina’s mocking tone was utterly transparent.

Usually, faced with such provocation, I would have erupted in fury and retorted immediately.

But today, I acted as if I were deaf, not even sparing her a glance. I sat steadily, continuing to serve myself and eat.

She froze for a moment, then suddenly forced a laugh.

"Oh, playing the indifferent one, are we? Let’s see how long you can keep that up!"

With that, she overturned the entire pot of soup onto herself, then, before I could react, shoved the basin into my hands and shrieked.

"Lady Clara, I merely admire Lord Jack! What's wrong with love? You can hit me, curse me, but why would you ruin my face…?"

Seraphina was a minor socialite, attracting followers with her striking beauty—her greatest asset.

She had scalded her skin below the neck a vivid red, leaving her drenched and utterly pitiful.

I heard a stir from the balcony. Jack was coming inside.

Before, facing such blatant setups, I would panic, desperate to defend myself, but all I ever received was Jack’s cold mockery.

Today, I held the soup basin steadily, and with Jack witnessing it firsthand, I deliberately smashed the ceramic pot onto Seraphina’s body.

Jack roared, striking me with a forceful slap.

"Wretch! How could my noble Thorne family have such a petty, ungrateful fool as its lady of the house!"

I was knocked to the ground, the scattered ceramic shards slicing into me, leaving dozens of bleeding wounds. My body was instantly drenched in blood.

Pain consumed my entire being, and all I could hear was Jack’s furious roars.

"Clara, I told you to apologize to Seraphina! Are you deaf?"

I lowered my head, a silent, cold laugh on my lips as I gazed at the bleeding wounds.

Jack, enraged, kicked me in the lower back, then grabbed my neck, forcing my face close to Seraphina.

The woman’s beautiful, yet arrogant, face filled my vision, her triumphant smirk utterly brazen.

An apology, is it?

The next second, I sprang to my feet, systematically pouring the dishes from the table over my head, then forcefully smashing the empty ceramic vessels against myself.

The hot liquid mixed with blood stung the wounds, a searing pain, but it paled in comparison to the ache in my heart.

"How's that? Is this apology heartfelt enough? Or do you still find it lacking…"

"Clara, have you gone mad!"

Jack saw my bruised and battered body. A flicker of pain crossed his eyes, and he violently seized my hands, stopping me from harming myself further.

"Stop it right now!"

The arm he gripped was covered in unhealed needle marks.

Jack’s eyes widened, his lips trembling slightly.

"What's this? Why so many needle marks?"

In five years of marriage, Jack’s affairs far outnumbered his times returning home for dinner.

The title of Thorne Holdings' patriarch naturally attracted not ordinary flings, but cunning, ruthless women, all with the courage and means to scheme and plot to replace me as Lady Thorne.

Every time I was directly harmed, or when Jack hurt me on their behalf, the immense physical and mental anguish forced me to seek relief from pain medication.

Jack stared blankly at the needle marks, then his face quickly turned to one of disdain.

He flung my arm away, looking at me with disgust and contempt.

"Well, Clara, you're certainly getting clever. Resorting to playing the martyr now, are we? Let me tell you, feigning illness won't work on me!"

I was thrown to the ground again. My palm, bracing my fall, was covered in blood from fresh cuts, but I was already numb to the pain.

Anyway, my confinement period would be over in half a month.