It wasn’t until now that Serena truly understood—love, like anything else, had an expiration date.

Owen’s love for her was only valid for that specific period. Once it expired, it turned sour.

"Have you heard from Owen recently?"

Early the next morning, a call from Owen’s mother woke her up and dragged her to the mall.

"I have," Serena replied after a slight pause. "We even had dinner together last night."

It wasn’t entirely a lie. They had indeed dined together. They’d even shared drinks.

And she’d even witnessed him giving flowers to someone else.

But since Owen’s mother had heart issues, Serena was afraid the truth might cause her to collapse on the spot. If that happened, Owen would likely hold her accountable.

Hearing her answer, Owen’s mother finally seemed at ease. "Good, that’s how it should be. You two have known each other since childhood and have been together for nearly eight years. There’s nothing that can’t be resolved."

Serena stayed silent, knowing that the less she said, the fewer mistakes she’d make.

With a wave of her hand, Owen’s mother bought seven or eight bags of luxury goods from high-end stores, all for Serena. "I had these picked out earlier, all in your size. Try them on when you get home, alright?"

"I will, Aunty," Serena replied.

Years ago, Owen’s mother had recognized her as her future daughter-in-law. But three years ago, after Serena had taken a knife for Owen, she began treating her as family.

That knife wound had hurt—a lot. Even now, she occasionally dreamt of that moment.

If given another chance, she probably would still take that knife. After all, the period that followed was when Owen had treated her the best, even giving her $30 million for recovery.

Life was all about money and comfort, wasn’t it? Taking a knife in exchange for $30 million was worth it.

Midway through their shopping trip, Serena spotted two familiar figures in a DR store from afar.

Feeling something was off, she was about to quietly lead Owen’s mother away when the older woman, with sharp eyes, noticed them and called out with a dark expression, "Owen."

Owen and Emma looked up and saw them.

Being a woman of high status, Owen’s mother managed to suppress her anger and refrained from arguing in the family-owned mall. She held it in until they got home, where she delivered a resounding slap to Owen.

"Owen! Do you even remember you’re a Lancaster? Bringing someone like that onto LancasterCare territory—do you think that’s fair to Sera, who took a knife for you and gave you so much over the years?"

Owen’s face tilted slightly from the slap, but his tone remained emotionless.

"Gave so much?"

He turned his gaze to Serena, letting out a faint chuckle. "Mom, don’t use such noble terms. She was just willing to play the Lancaster family’s dog, all for the money."

Under his cold gaze, Serena stayed silent, though her heart betrayed her, stinging faintly.

A dog?

So that’s all she was to the Lancaster family.

No, she wasn’t even worthy of being a dog. What dog works 365 days a year without rest, sleeps with him, and takes knives for him?

Owen’s mother was furious. "How can you be so heartless?"

"Did I say anything wrong?" Owen asked casually. "If I weren’t Owen Lancaster but Owen Carter or Owen Hudson, would Serena have stayed with me?"

Owen’s mother pointed at Emma. "And what about her? Isn’t she after your money too?"

Emma shrank back fearfully, but Owen stepped in front of her, shielding her. His response was calm. "She’s different."

That single sentence—"She’s different"—was enough to send Owen’s mother into a fit of high blood pressure.

"You think she’s different? You think you’re different? Without LancasterCare, you’re nothing, Owen!"

Owen’s mother was so furious she sat on the couch, gasping for air.

Serena retrieved the blood pressure medicine from a cabinet, handed it to Owen’s mother, and helped her take it. Then she instructed the housekeeper to escort her upstairs to rest, seamlessly playing the role of mediator.

Her actions were smooth and practiced, as if she’d done it countless times before.

Just then, Owen’s voice came from behind.

“It’s all thanks to you that Mother despises Emmy this much.”

It was his usual tone of light mockery.

Serena stood with her back to him, unmoving. “Yes, it’s all my doing. I’m the most wicked woman in the entire world.

“Does that make you happy?”

She turned around, her expression indifferent as she met his gaze.

Owen’s eyes remained as dark and inscrutable as ever.

Once, she had loved those eyes the most.

Now, they were what she despised the most.

Later, he left with Emma Hayes.

Serena stood frozen in place, the scar on her abdomen faintly burning, searing like fire.

Perhaps it was the lingering smell of gunpowder that stung her eyes. She tilted her head back slightly, letting the dry discomfort in her eyes fade before heading upstairs to comfort Owen’s mother.

“Aunty, it’s alright,” she said softly.

Owen’s mother remained silent for a long time, her weariness etched into her face. She reached out to gently stroke Serena’s soft hair. “You’ve been through so much.”

Serena shook her head. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Silly child.” Owen’s mother gazed at her with deep pity, letting out a soft sigh. “How did things come to this?”

She could endure it all—the abrupt departure, the cold indifference, the weight of everything falling solely on her shoulders. She could carry it all.

But just one look, that single glance filled with pity, was enough to almost break her.

Serena opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but the words caught in her throat, stuck like a wad of cotton.

After a long pause, she lowered her head and murmured softly,

“Who knows?”

And really, this wasn’t so bad.

Later, Owen truly abandoned LancasterCare for Emma, never stepping foot in the company again.

No one knew where he went. It seemed he was serious about defying the Lancaster Family for her.

The entire weight of LancasterCare fell on Serena. The pressure came crashing down all at once. Even when she was sick in bed, she still had to toast clients at banquets, battling a high fever of 104°F, cooling down with ice-cold drinks.

Even the Grim Reaper would have to admit she was tough.

When she could no longer stomach it, she used the excuse of fixing her makeup to slip away to the restroom and throw up.

Afterward, she stepped out and bought a bottle of water from a nearby convenience store—only to run into Emma Hayes.

Emma seemed anxious, running up to Serena and grabbing her sleeve.

“Please... I’m begging you, save Owen!” she pleaded desperately. “I’m begging you!”

Serena’s face remained expressionless. “Sorry, I’m working.”

Aunty had warned her not to offer Owen any private assistance—she would be furious if Serena did.

Emma’s voice cracked as she started to cry. “But he’s dying! Don’t you care? At least save him for the sake of him being your boss! If he dies, it won’t benefit you either!”

Serena looked at Emma’s tear-streaked face, surprised to learn how severely Owen had fallen ill.

Then again, it wasn’t that unexpected. A wealthy young master who didn’t even know how to prepare instant noodles, living in a few square feet of a damp basement—it was bound to make him sick.

Even though Owen’s mother had been worried and had Serena send someone to check on his living situation beforehand, when Serena finally saw the place, she was still caught off guard by the dark, moldy stains on the walls and the cramped space barely big enough for a single stride.

For someone like him to tolerate living there...

How much love would it take?

Owen was slumped in a chair, his usually refined and noble face pale and sickly. His lips were colorless, and he coughed weakly, reportedly feverish to the point of delirium.

Owen’s mother only wanted him to learn a lesson—not to die. As the “most loyal dog of the Lancaster Family,” Serena took on the responsibility and stepped forward, nudging his calf with her toe.

“Owen Lancaster.”

He coughed a few times, his shoulders trembling as if it took all his strength just to lift his head and look at her. He stared at her for a moment before suddenly leaning forward to wrap his arms around her waist. His voice was hoarse, low, and uncharacteristically clingy.

“Why did you only come now? I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

Emma froze, her expression shifting.

Serena calmly pried his hands away, turning her head to address Emma with a clinical tone.

“He’s not delirious from a fever—he’s brain-dead.”