I was Preston Kingsley’s caged mistress, a tool he used to humiliate his ex. For his first love, Vivienne, he cut off my father’s ICU funding and forced me to kneel in the snow, searching for a ring that never existed. Later, I became exactly what he wanted. Docile. Obedient. Silent. Even when I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, I never said a word. I simply signed the divorce papers and vanished from his world. Preston searched the globe like a madman, only to find a box of ashes. They say that day, New York’s most distinguished man cried like a dog who’d lost its home. Lynn’s POV The smell of disinfectant was sharp in my nose. The doctor stared at the report in his hands, his brow furrowed. He looked up at me. “Didn’t your family come with you?” My fingers tightened on the hem of my shirt. “He’s busy. I can handle it myself.” The doctor sighed and handed me the paper. “You’re six weeks pregnant, but your uterine wall is very thin. Combined with your chronic malnutrition, this pregnancy… will be difficult to maintain. If you insist on keeping it, there’s a risk of severe hemorrhaging.” My mind went blank. Pregnant? At this moment, when my relationship with Preston had hit rock bottom. My phone screen lit up with a push notification. A news headline. The photo showed Preston at the airport. Even in a candid shot, the man looked refined and aloof, his black trench coat accentuating his tall frame. And in his arms was a petite woman. Vivienne was back. The woman Preston couldn’t forget. The woman whose single sentence, “I don’t like other women around you,” had subjected me to three years of cold violence.. The headline was painfully blunt: “Preston Kingsley’s Late-Night Airport Pickup, Old Flames Rekindled? Sweet, Loving Gaze.” I turned off my phone, my fingertips trembling with cold. “Doctor, this baby… let me think about it.” When I walked out of the hospital, New York’s first snow of winter was falling. The wind cut across my face like knives. I pulled my thin coat tighter, but it couldn’t block the cold seeping into my bones. When I reached the house, I saw that familiar Maybach parked in the driveway. Preston was home. I pushed open the door. The warmth inside hit my face, mixed with an unfamiliar perfume. Sweet. A cloying floral-fruit scent. Vivienne’s favorite. Preston sat on the sofa, legs crossed, fingers holding an unlit cigarette, his expression dark and unreadable. Hearing me enter, he lifted his eyelids and gave me a cold glance. “Where were you?” His voice was low, carrying an oppressive weight that made it hard to breathe. I paused while changing my shoes, instinctively tucking the ultrasound report deeper into my bag. “I wasn’t feeling well. Went to the pharmacy.” “Not feeling well?” Preston laughed coldly and stood, walking toward me. He looked down at me, his long fingers gripping my chin with bruising force. “Lynn, did you go to the pharmacy, or did you go tip off that deadbeat father of yours?” My heart lurched. I jerked my head up to look at him. “What do you mean?” “What do I mean?” Preston released my face and grabbed a document from the coffee table, throwing it at me. The sharp edge of the paper sliced across my cheek, leaving a red mark. “After your father went bankrupt, his mess got worse. He owes another three hundred thousand in loan shark debts. The creditors came to me, saying they’re looking for Mrs. Kingsley’s father, and I should pay up.” Preston’s eyes were full of disgust and mockery. “Lynn, how many holes have I filled for your family these three years? Do you think I’m an idiot, or do you think…” He paused, his tone turning crueler. “Do you think your broken body is worth that price?”
Lynn’s POV That ultrasound report ended up crumpled in my bag. Three hundred thousand. To Preston, that was barely the cost of a watch-not even enough for one of Vivienne’s handbags. But for my family now, it was the final straw. My father was still lying in the ICU, medical bills draining away like water every day. If those loan sharks didn’t get their money, they’d really pull his oxygen tube. I took a deep breath, forcing down the stinging in my eyes, and bent to pick up the documents from the floor. “I’m sorry. I’ll figure something out.” “Figure something out?” Preston sounded like he’d heard a joke. He moved closer, step by step, until he’d backed me against the wall. “Where will you figure it out? Sell yourself? Or go beg that useless ex of yours?” At the mention of Simon, my heart clenched painfully. He was a thorn in Preston’s mind and his excuse to torment me. The truth was, Simon and I had no relationship. We’d simply talked a bit more than usual at a class reunion, and Preston had held it against me ever since. “I didn’t…” I tried weakly to defend myself. But Preston didn’t want to hear it. He reached up to loosen his tie, his eyes cold and predatory. “Since you need to pay back money, show some sincerity.” “Please me. Until I’m satisfied.” That night, Preston was like a man possessed. No foreplay, no tenderness-only endless venting and punishment. I bit my lip hard, refusing to make a sound, even as the pain made my whole body tremble. Because I knew. If I cried out in pain or resisted, it would only make his treatment more brutal. And there was my father’s ventilator, which could be shut off at any moment. When it was over, he stood by the window in a bathrobe, smoking. Through the curling smoke, his silhouette looked especially cold. I curled up under the covers, sharp pains radiating from my lower abdomen, making my heart race with fear. The baby… “Tomorrow night there’s a charity gala. You’re coming with me.” Preston suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse. I froze. Since our marriage, he’d never taken me to any public event. In his circle, everyone knew he’d married a fallen heiress-a doormat who’d endure anything for money. Taking me out would only embarrass him. “What? Don’t want to go?” Seeing my silence, Preston turned around, his brow furrowing. “No, it’s not that…” My throat was painfully hoarse. “I’ll go.” Preston nodded with satisfaction and stubbed out his cigarette. “Vivienne will be there tomorrow too. She just got back to the country and needs an assistant. Since you’re free anyway, go help her out.” So that was it. He wasn’t taking me to see the world, nor was he acknowledging my identity. It was just that his mistress needed a servant. And I, the nominal Mrs. Kingsley, was the cheapest, most convenient option. “Okay.” I heard my own calm voice. Really, as long as he paid, as long as I could save my father, I’d do anything. Even if it meant carving out my heart to pave the way for these two lovers.
Lynn’s POV The gala was held at New York’s largest hotel. I wore a last-season dress Preston had carelessly thrown at me, following three steps behind him. Like a shadow that couldn’t see the light. Vivienne wore a custom white mermaid gown, looking like a noble princess surrounded by admirers. When she saw Preston, her eyes lit up. She lifted her skirt and ran over, naturally linking her arm through his. “Preston, you’re finally here. I’ve been waiting forever.” Preston’s usually hard features softened the moment he saw her. “Traffic.” He lied. We’d arrived early. He’d just sat in the car smoking two cigarettes before leisurely coming up. Vivienne smiled sweetly, her gaze sweeping around before she seemed to notice me for the first time, covering her mouth in surprise. “Oh my, Ms. Lynn is here too? This dress… isn’t this from two years ago? Preston, really, you should have gotten her something new.” Her words sounded reproachful, but her eyes were full of smugness and contempt. People around us cast meaningful glances. Some mocking, some pitying, most just watching the show. Preston gave me a brief glance, his tone casual. “She doesn’t like being extravagant. Old clothes work fine.” I lowered my eyes, my nails digging into my palms. Doesn’t like being extravagant? Before the Lynn family went bankrupt, I only wore haute couture. Who was it that broke my wings and ground me into the dirt, only to turn around and despise me for being covered in mud? “Vivienne, didn’t you say you wanted champagne?” Preston turned to look at Vivienne, his tone gentle. Vivienne pouted playfully. “But the champagne here isn’t cold enough. I want the kind with hand-carved ice balls, and only seven-tenths full.” Preston nodded, then turned his gaze to me, instantly freezing over. “You heard that? Go do it.” I stood there, surrounded by stares that felt like needles piercing my skin. I was Mrs. Kingsley, yet at this event, I was being treated like a server, fetching drinks for the other woman. “What? Don’t want to?” Preston raised an eyebrow, lowering his voice. “That three hundred thousand…” “I’ll go.” I cut him off and turned toward the bar. In that moment, I felt every shred of my dignity being crushed. The ice was hard, the carving pick slippery. My hands were shaking, and the dropping sensation in my abdomen grew stronger. The sharp ice pick slipped and stabbed hard into my left index finger. Blood immediately gushed out. I frantically looked for tissues to stop the bleeding. Behind me came Vivienne’s sweet voice. “Oh my, Ms. Lynn, how careless can you be? You got blood on the ice-how can anyone drink this now?” Preston walked over. Seeing my bleeding finger, he frowned deeply. But his first words weren’t concern. They were blame. “Can’t even handle something this simple. Clumsy idiot. Stop embarrassing yourself here.” He took Vivienne’s hand. “Come on, I’ll take you upstairs for better drinks.” The two walked away arm in arm, leaving me alone by the bar, my blood dripping onto the floor. Just like my heart, riddled with holes.
Lynn’s POV While I was rinsing my wound in the restroom, the hospital called. “Ms. Lynn, your father’s condition has worsened. He needs surgery immediately. If you don’t pay the full amount, we can’t proceed…” The doctor’s voice on the other end was full of helplessness. “How much?” My voice trembled. “Including what you owe plus this surgery, at least five hundred thousand. It must be paid by midnight tonight.” After hanging up, I looked at my ghost-pale face in the mirror. Five hundred thousand. For me now, it was an astronomical sum. Preston had frozen all my cards. I’d already sold all my jewelry. The only option left was to beg him. I left the restroom and stumbled toward the second-floor private room. The door was slightly ajar, laughter spilling out from inside. “Preston, this necklace is beautiful. I love it.” Vivienne’s voice was soft and sweet. “If you like it, keep it. I bought it at auction for you anyway.” Preston’s voice carried a smile. Through the gap in the door, I saw Preston fastening an expensive necklace around Vivienne’s neck. That necklace… My whole body went rigid. That was my mother’s heirloom! When the Lynn family went bankrupt, all our assets were auctioned off, including this necklace. I’d begged Preston for so long to buy it back for me, to keep as a memento. What had he said then? “A broken piece of junk, and you beg me for that?” Now he’d bought it and put it on another woman. Rage, despair, grief all twisted together until I could barely breathe. But I couldn’t lash out. My father was waiting for money to save his life. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door. The laughter inside stopped abruptly. Everyone looked at me. The smile vanished from Preston’s face, replaced by darkness. “Who told you to come in?” I ignored the stares and walked straight to Preston, dropping to my knees. My knees hit the floor with a dull thud. Preston froze. Vivienne gasped and shrank into his arms. “Lynn, what the hell are you doing?” Preston spoke through clenched teeth, clearly feeling I’d embarrassed him. I looked up at him. “Preston, please. Lend me five hundred thousand. My father needs surgery. He desperately needs this money.” “Lend?” Preston laughed coldly, swirling the wine glass in his hand. “What will you use to pay me back? Your bankrupt family, or your broken body?” “As long as you give me the money, I’ll do anything.” Preston stared at me. Vivienne suddenly spoke up beside him. “Preston, Ms. Lynn is pretty pitiful. Why don’t you help her out?” She sounded kind, but then her tone shifted. “But since Ms. Lynn is so filial, you must be able to hold your liquor, right? If you can finish all the alcohol on this table, I’ll have Preston give you the money. How’s that?” On the table sat more than a dozen bottles of hard liquor. Vodka, whiskey, brandy, all mixed together. Forget a pregnant woman. Even a healthy person would need a stomach pump after drinking that much. She wanted me dead. I looked at Preston, hoping for even a trace of mercy. But he simply glanced at the bottles on the table and said one word. “Drink.” My heart died completely. I picked up a bottle of vodka and tilted my head back, pouring it down. The burning liquid flowed down my throat into my stomach, scorching like fire. One bottle, two bottles… My vision began to blur. My stomach churned violently. The dropping pain in my abdomen became excruciating. Something warm trickled down my thighs.
Lynn’s POV “Enough!” Just as I reached for the fifth bottle, Preston suddenly knocked it out of my hand. Glass shattered across the floor, alcohol splashing onto my dress. His face was livid as he stared at my pale face, his voice filled with suppressed rage. “Lynn, are you dead inside? Don’t you know when to stop?” I swayed, seeing only doubles, barely managing an uglier-than-crying smile. “Mr. Kingsley… I haven’t finished yet… the money…” “Transfer the money to her!” Preston shouted at his assistant, then grabbed me up from the floor. “Now. Immediately. Get out of my sight!” I got the money. I’d traded my dignity and the unformed life in my womb for it. I refused the assistant’s offer to take me to the hospital. Using my last bit of consciousness, I transferred the money to the hospital. Then, in the snow by the roadside, I finally couldn’t hold on anymore and collapsed. When I woke again, I was in a hospital room. No Preston. Only the doctor who’d examined me before. He looked at me with complicated eyes. “You lost the baby.” Though I’d expected this outcome, hearing it aloud still felt like my heart had been hollowed out. “You were brought in hemorrhaging. Fortunately a passerby called 911 in time, or you’d have lost your life too.” The doctor sighed. “Your body is extremely weak now. In the future… it will be very difficult for you to conceive again.” I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Very difficult to conceive again. This meant the only bond between Preston and me was also severed. Good. Really good. I stayed in the hospital for three days. During those three days, Preston never came once. He didn’t even call. But Vivienne sent me a photo. In it, Preston was in the kitchen making porridge, his profile gentle and focused. The caption read: “My stomach’s bothering me. Preston specially made me oatmeal porridge. So warm.” I looked at that photo with a heart like still water. Once, I’d had stomach pain too. Preston had just coldly tossed me a box of medicine and said: “Stop being dramatic. Take your pills and go to sleep. Don’t bother me.” So he wasn’t incapable of caring for someone. He just didn’t want to care for me. I closed my phone and pulled out the IV needle. I handled my own discharge paperwork. When I returned to that so-called “home,” Preston wasn’t back yet. I walked into the bedroom, pulled out my suitcase, and started packing. I didn’t have much. Besides a few changes of clothes, there was only one photo of him and me together. Our wedding photo. In it, my smile was stiff. He looked completely indifferent. I tore the photo into pieces and threw it in the trash. Then I sat at the desk and pulled out the divorce agreement I’d prepared long ago. The moment I signed my name, I felt an unprecedented sense of relief. The sound of the door lock turning came from outside. Preston was home. He brought the cold with him. Seeing the suitcase in the living room, he paused. “Are you going on a business trip?” His tone was casual, as if the humiliation and hurt from days ago had never happened. I turned to look at him. “Preston, let’s get divorced.” Preston froze for a moment, then laughed as if he’d heard a joke. “Lynn, is this your new game?” He walked over, casually tossing his car keys on the coffee table and unbuttoning his coat. “Stop messing around. I’m tired. Vivienne wasn’t feeling well-I stayed at the hospital with her for three days. Go run me a bath.” While I was in the hospital hemorrhaging from a miscarriage, he was keeping another woman company. How ironic. I didn’t move. I just pushed the divorce agreement in front of him. “I’m not messing around. I’ve already signed it. Look it over and see if there are any issues. If you think the asset division is unfair, I can leave with nothing.” Preston finally sensed something was wrong. He stared at me for a while, then his gaze fell on the agreement. His expression darkened instantly. “Lynn, you’re serious?” “Yes.” “Why?” “I’m tired of it.” I used the same words he’d once used to humiliate me, throwing them back at him. “Preston, these three years have exhausted me. I don’t want to serve you anymore. Don’t you love Vivienne? I’m setting you free.” “Setting me free?” Preston suddenly grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it felt like he’d crush my bones. “Lynn, what right do you have to talk about setting me free? Don’t forget-your father is still alive on my money! If we divorce, what will you use to save him?” I looked at his furious face, my heart completely calm. “I’ll pay back that five hundred thousand slowly. As for the future, I won’t trouble Mr. Kingsley anymore.” My father’s surgery had been successful. The doctor said with proper rest, he’d recover. I’d already sold the family’s old house. Though the price was depressed, it was enough to repay Preston and cover future medical expenses. “Fine!” Preston laughed bitterly and released me with a shove. “Lynn, this is your choice! Once you walk out that door, don’t come crawling back on your knees!” “I won’t.” I picked up my suitcase and looked at him one last time. This glance held no attachment. Only farewell. “Preston, goodbye. Or rather, may we never meet again.” I turned toward the door. Behind me came the sound of a vase shattering and Preston’s furious roar. “Get out! Everyone get out!” I didn’t look back. I opened the door. Outside, the snow had stopped. Though it was still cold, I could see the long-absent sunlight. Finally, I was free.
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