The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

"Mr. Bailiff." The medical staff bowed immediately, their posture rigid with deference.

Everyone in the base knew of Clarice and Jace-the ones who held authority and dictated the rules. To others, they were untouchable, standing at the very pinnacle of power.

None of them truly understood the purpose of this place. They lived in ignorance, unaware that beyond their world existed forces even greater, masters even more formidable.

"How has she been these past few days?" Jace asked, his face unreadable.

"She has shown some signs of rejection, but so far, there is no sign of organ failure. It's truly surprising. She appears delicate, yet her body is unexpectedly resilient, stronger than many men."

The medic let out a mirthless chuckle. "But today is the fourth injection. Who knows if she will survive? Last month, four test subjects did not make it past the fourth dose. They were taken straight to the incinerator for disposal."

Jace's jaw clenched. A shadow passed over his sharp features. When he spoke, his voice was low, rough, edged with something dangerous. "I told you before. She must be kept alive. She has a purpose."

His gaze darkened. "If you keep pushing her like this, she won't last much longer."

The medic hesitated. "But Dr. Amaryllis instructed us to proceed with standard testing. There were no special arrangements—"

thin line. In an instant, he understood Clarice's

think to search, and second, because keeping her alive

Clarice was no fool. She knew Grant did

in the experiment, it would simply mean she was too weak. A

exhaled slowly, then extended his hand. "Give me the drug. I will

he seized the medicine

hesitated but ultimately said nothing, turning and exiting

heavy door, stepping into the dimly lit space.

the faint scent of decay. He flicked on

bed, Yvonne lay motionless, her figure frail and

moment she heard footsteps, a

shrank, her limbs convulsed, her body wracked with an agony so deep

voice cut through the suffocating silence. His

her throat. With all the strength she had left, her skeletal fingers clutched weakly at the hem of

parted. Her voice was so hoarse