In the Serenade Abode, scarlet candles swayed gently, casting a soft, flickering glow.

Odesa Hawthorne found herself pinned beneath the stinky beggar whose rationality seemed to escape him. Despite her desperate struggles to evade him, the beggar tore off her shirt, exposing her fair and delicate shoulders.

Her countenance bore a tapestry of lust, defiance, torment, and utter hopelessness.

She stared fixedly at the man nearby, coldly observing the unfolding spectacle. Inside her chest, a thousand insects seemed to gnaw at her lungs, and a pang of sorrow gripped her heart. Slowly, crimson blood began to trickle from the corner of her lips.

That was her newlywed husband!

He was Xeraph Montgomery, Duke of Tranquility.

Today, they got married and became husband and wife. Tonight was meant to be their first night together. How could he treat her like this?

From the age of seven, when he rescued her in the Imperial Garth, her heart became his. She followed him faithfully, giving her all, even if his heart leaned elsewhere. She held no grudges, afraid to wish for more than she already had.

He had unexpectedly wanted to marry her, promising a wedding she would never forget. Little did she know it would turn out to be so pathetically unforgettable!

An inexplicable wave of hatred surged within her. She stared at Xeraph and, turning her head, sank her teeth into the beggar's neck.

It was as if she had clamped onto Xeraph's neck... With a grip unyielding, she was unwilling to relent until the bitter end, skin to skin.

Soon, blood gushed forth in torrents.

"Argh!"

The beggar, clutching his blood-drenched neck, let out a pitiful scream before collapsing, his body limp.

Despite the turmoil coursing through her veins, Odesa forced herself upright. She pushed the beggar away. Her face was smeared with blood, and she staggered toward the man in the wheelchair.

"You're so cruel!"

His eyes flashed with undisguised disgust. "I may be cruel, but you're more ruthless!"

Odesa was momentarily stunned. She steadied her weakened body and began to smile. A smile tinged with melancholy as she said, "Why? I..."

Could it be because of the aphrodisiac?

But she was a victim too!

Before her wedding, her aunt had joyfully given her a packet of incense, claiming it to be sacred incense from the distant land of Xandaschuttes. She had said that when newlyweds lit this incense on their wedding night, their love would endure for a lifetime.

She believed it and lit the sachet of incense.

Little did she know that she and Xeraph would fall victim to an aphrodisiac.

However, even as Xeraph fought his desire, he would not touch her. His disdainful gaze made Odesa feel like the foulest of swamps. She still remembered his icy words. "You're too dirty for me. A b*tch like you only deserves to consummate your relationship with a beggar!"

"If the beggar can't satisfy you, I can fetch a dog for you." Xeraph's face remained cold as he spat out the words. His narrow eyes radiated scorn and loathing. "I believe a duchess like you will be quite content with the service I offer."

After speaking, he turned away without another glance and wheeled himself off.

A surge of heartache shrouded her. It was so painful that her body was about to explode.

Hatred surged again, pushing toward madness!

In her ears, the barking of a dog reverberated. Odesa gazed at the looming, dark silhouette of the massive hound hurtling toward her from a distance. Her heart clenched in a vise of fear. Trembling, she plucked the hairpin from her tresses. In that fleeting moment, just before the black dog lunged at her, she thrust it into her chest.

In an instant, blood flew in all directions....

The black dog, suddenly ignited with intense emotions, let out a heartbreaking howl as it circled around the lifeless body, which remained eerily still.

The dog yelped, "Woof! Woof! Woof!"

"Ah! Help!"

The face of the servant, Quinnie Upton, turned ashen. She lowered her head, catching a glimpse from the corner of her eyes as the wet nurse to the Duke of Tranquility bent over the lifeless face of the duchess, pinching it. Then, she tried with her fingers and stated with an expressionless face, "She's dead. We'll have to make arrangements for the burial. This is a bad omen!"

Quinnie's heart skipped a beat.

Cassandra Corwin, the wet nurse, clutched the partially torn bridal gown on Odesa. She was about to remove it when a frigid hand shook as it held hers.

It was bone-chilling, sending shivers down Cassandra's spine.