The harsh, sterile light of the emergency room in the city’s most luxurious private hospital cast a cold glow. On the large hospital bed, Elena lay curled up beneath a thin, pale blue blanket. Her face was deathly pale, devoid of any color, and her vibrant red hair—once her ultimate pride—was now matted against the headboard, soaked in sweat and tears.

Elena’s resistance grew weaker until it ceased completely. Her hands went limp, dropping onto the pristine white sheets. Her eyes, bloodshot from hemorrhaging and tears, slowly lost focus but remained wide open, staring blankly into space—carrying a curse that would pierce through to the very souls of those who wronged her.

On the electrocardiogram monitor beside her, the waving lines representing Elena’s heartbeat began to slow down drastically... before suddenly flattening into an icy, straight line.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep...

A long, continuous tone cut through the sterile air of the room. The flatline—the definitive sound of death.

Beatrice slowly released her grip. She stood up straight, calmly pulling a tissue from the bedside table to wipe away the traces of Elena's sweat and tears that had rubbed off on her hands. She casually adjusted the folds of her expensive silk shirt and smoothed down her elegant, sleek updo, which hadn't moved an inch despite committing a murder.

She leaned down, picked up her Hermès bag from the floor, and gently brushed off an invisible speck of dust from the leather. Her gaze drifted over Elena's corpse one last time, completely devoid of remorse or pity. To this matriarch, Elena’s death was merely the erasure of a "stain," a broken pawn in the family’s grand game of power.

Beatrice turned around and walked unhurriedly toward the door. The lights from the hospital corridor cast her elongated shadow across the cold tile floor. As the door slowly clicked shut, it left behind Elena’s cold body and the hopeless, unending drone of the heart monitor.

The cover story of a tragic daughter-in-law who miscarried from a staircase accident and suddenly passed away due to postpartum hemorrhaging was already prepared for the media tomorrow morning. The crime was perfectly cloaked in wealth and status, but the way Elena’s eyes remained frozen wide open in her final moments served as a grim promise: the downfall of the Vanguard family had only just begun.

[End of Story]