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—"

pressed his lips into a thin line. In an instant, he understood Clarice's cruel

it was a place no one would think to search, and second, because keeping her alive meant

was no fool. She knew Grant

was too weak. A fitting end for someone like her. Grant would not punish anyone for

then extended his hand. "Give me the drug. I will administer it myself. You

a response, he seized the medicine box from the medic's

hesitated but ultimately said nothing, turning and exiting the

lit space. The door clicked

room was dark, the air thick with sterile antiseptic and the faint scent of decay. He flicked on a single overhead lamp. A dull

hospital bed, Yvonne lay motionless, her figure frail and

moment she heard footsteps, a

body wracked with an agony so deep it reached her very

me." His deep voice cut through the suffocating silence. His broad shoulders blocked the

widened, her breath hitching in her throat. With all the strength she had left, her skeletal fingers clutched weakly at the hem

lips parted. Her voice was so hoarse