Author: Momo Chan

On the day my father,Adrian Greywood,was confirmed as the Alpha heir of the northern Greywood Pack,he tore up his future Luna vow with my mother in front of everyone and demoted her to an Omega. And Lily,the personal maid who had disrespected my mother again and again,became the future Luna. From then on,Mom became Lily’s scapegoat. At the elders’banquet,Lily said the Beta families were nothing but a bunch of stubborn old bones. So Dad punished Mom by making her kneel before the stone steps of the Packhouse,holding a red-hot wolf crest in her hands until the elders’banquet ended. “You failed to stop the future Luna and caused her to say the wrong thing.You deserve to be punished.” After Mom’s palms were burned raw,she asked Dad to return the moonstone pendant they had exchanged when they made their mate vow. Lily kept misreading the prayers to the Moon Goddess. So Dad punished Mom by making her kneel beside the altar and copy the Pack law code a hundred times. “You failed to teach her properly.You deserve to be disciplined.” The night the silver wound on Mom’s wrist flared up again,she asked Dad to return the obsidian ring from their bonding ceremony. Then,during the moonlit hunt,Lily stole prey from another Pack and startled the current Luna’s youngest pup badly enough to injure him. When the Alpha was about to punish her severely,Dad,red-eyed,begged my mother,who was pregnant with a wolf pup,to take the silver lash for Lily. “Lily was only afraid of losing.She didn’t mean it.Take the punishment for her.” “I promise,this is the last time.I’ll make it up to you properly from now on.” Mom did not cry the way she used to.She accepted it calmly. When the pup in her belly dissolved into bloody water,I saw a blurred dark-red rose mark rise on her wrist. It was a mark I had never seen before. Mom looked at that mark and said softly, “Nora,when the marks becomes completely clear,Mommy will return to our real home.” … Servants carried basin after basin of bright-red bloody water past me. I did not know what that blood rose meant.I only knew Mom’s body was getting colder and colder. I clutched Mom’s hand. “Mommy,Nora doesn’t want you to die!You said you would stay with me while I grew up!” She smiled at me.There was no pain left in her eyes. “Mommy isn’t dying.Mommy is going home.” I trembled. “Mommy,we haven’t had a home for a long time.” Back then,Mom had pitied Lily and brought her here from the Bennett family when she married. But Lily accused the Bennetts of mistreating her. So,to vent Lily’s anger,Dad framed the Bennett family for secretly colluding with the Greywood Pack’s sworn enemy,the Blood Moon Pack. He had only meant to scare Mom.He had not expected Lily to accidentally leave the forged secret letter in the council hall. The Alpha was furious and ordered the execution of the entire Bennett family,who had served three generations of Greywood Alphas. Mom and I begged Dad to explain. But Dad said Lily had always been lowborn,and after she became future Luna,the elders all looked down on her. If they found out he had forged evidence for Lily,every elder would decide Lily was a burden dragging down the Alpha heir. Because of that,Dad admitted with his own mouth that the Bennett family had colluded with an enemy Pack. The Bennetts had once poured all their strength into helping him secure his place as heir.In the end,all of them were dragged onto the judgment platform. Carl,who used to let me ride on his shoulders to look at the moon,Anna,who made my little cloaks,and countless warriors and wolf pups all died. Mom broke down.She cut her wrist open with a silver blade,wanting to let all her blood drain away. But Dad held me in his arms and threatened her,forcing her to survive. I threw myself onto Mom. “I don’t want Mommy to leave.I don’t want the last person who loves me to leave too.” The moment I finished speaking,a tall shadow fell over us from behind. Dad lifted me onto his lap,stroked Mom’s cold cheek,and looked at her with eyes full of pain. “Evelyn,I know you blame me for not protecting our pup,but no matter how angry you are,you can’t use death to frighten Nora.” “I brought some things.You and Nora can see if there is anything you like.” Dad was always like this. After he did something wrong,he used whatever Lily had already picked through to compensate us. Mom did not even look.She only stared at the wrist guard on his arm. “I want that.” Dad froze for a moment,displeased. “You braided this for me yourself on the night I shifted for the first time.” Mom’s eyes were empty. “I gave it to the mate who loved me most.You are not him anymore,so I want it back.” Dad’s arms trembled around me,and his voice went hoarse. “Evelyn,I know I’ve wronged you both.But Lily has no inner wolf,and other wolves have bullied her.She’s too fragile,and she won’t accept my help.I made her future Luna only to save her.” “Evelyn,you are the only one I love.” Dad said that every time. But even I could tell Dad was not doing it to save Lily. He had simply fallen for her.

Mom used to say that one day,I should find a mate who knew how to respect me. Someone like Dad,who would make her pancakes in the morning,brush her hair for her,and give her the best prey and the warmest shawl. But after Lily came here,he gave Lily the moonlight perfume Mom loved. He also gave Lily the maple-leaf brooch Grandma had left Mom. I knew he did not love Mom anymore. “I only want this.” Mom’s hand trembled,but she insisted on asking for the wrist guard. Dad still would not give it. Not until Lily’s people came. “Heir Adrian,Lady Lily has been terrified by a nightmare.She begs you to go see her.” The next second,Dad shoved me aside so hard that I hit the fireplace. He immediately rose to leave,but Mom clutched the hem of his clothes and would not let go. “Give me the wrist guard.” The maid kept urging him.Dad sighed helplessly and threw the wrist guard onto the bed. He even took away every healer in Mom’s room. Mom had lost so much blood,and the bleeding still had not stopped. I wanted to beg him to leave one healer behind. But Mom held my hand. “Be good,Nora.Mommy is fine.” The way Mom used to care for me,I blew gently on the wound on her belly. At last,she closed her eyes to rest. But then Dad came in again,bringing Lily with him. “Lily wants blueberry ice cream,the kind she once ate at the Bennett estate.” “Now the Bennett family only has you left,Evelyn.Go make it.” Mom’s voice was very soft. “I have just lost my pup and am covered in blood.I’m afraid I might ruin the heir and future Luna’s good mood.” Lily bit her lip and knelt on the floor. “This is all my fault.I hurt Evelyn’s pup,and I caused the Bennett family to die.” Dad helped her up with aching tenderness. But when he looked at Mom,his eyes instantly turned cold and hard. He yanked Mom out of bed. “When you talk like that,Lily will think you hate her.She has no wolf.She’s sensitive and fragile.It’s only a dessert.Can’t you be a little more sensible?” Seeing the pain on Mom’s face,I stepped in front of them. “Dad,Mommy doesn’t feel well.Nora can make it!” But Mom pushed me behind the old maid. She looked at Dad coldly and laughed. “So this is your compensation?How disgusting.” Dad panicked for a second,but in the end,he said nothing. The ice cream was not carried to the table until noon the next day. I went to find Mom and found her lying motionless on the floor,her dress covered in blood. I ran crying to Dad. He was feeding Lily the ice cream. “Dad,Mommy is bleeding so much.She’s going to die!” Dad’s expression changed,and he got up to leave. But Lily grabbed him,her eyes red. “Adrian,Evelyn must be angry because she had to make dessert for an Omega like me.She only wants to make you feel sorry for her.” “It was my fault anyway.Go to her.I’ll clean myself up and apologize to Evelyn.” In an instant,anger entered Dad’s eyes. He slammed his hand hard on the table. “She’s spoiled by my favor.She has always tolerated pain better than anyone.It was only one lost pup.What’s there to make such a fuss about?” He pointed at me. “And you.At such a young age,she has already taught you to lie with tricks like this.Disgusting.Go back and tell her I’m busy.If she likes acting so much,let her put on the show by herself all night.” Before,if Mom’s hand was only burned red,Dad would be frantic with worry. How had it become like this? I cried and knelt at Dad’s feet. “I’m not lying.Mommy really fainted!I heard the healer say she would die.She really will die.Dad,please go look at her!” “Get out!” Dad kicked me away. I hit the leg of a chair.My back hurt so much,and my forehead hurt too.Blood ran into my eyes. But the father who used to cry with fear whenever I had a fever did not look at me again. He picked Lily up and casually ordered the guards, “Enough.Take Nora back.Without my permission,she is not allowed to step out of her room again.” I soon passed out. When I woke again,I was already in the eastern manor,and there was noise outside. As soon as I stepped out,I saw Mom kneeling on the ground,her face deathly pale. Lily was crying in Dad’s arms. “Evelyn,I know you hate me,but why did you put wolfsbane in the ice cream?If I hadn’t only eaten a little,I might never have been able to bear pups.”

Mom swayed where she knelt,unable even to stay upright. “It wasn’t me.” Lily pounded Dad’s shoulder,crying even harder. “Adrian,you have to help me!Last night you said you wanted me to give you a whole litter of beautiful little wolf pups!” Dad frowned,as if hesitating. I rushed over. “It wasn’t Mommy!Last time,Lily said Mommy didn’t know gratitude because she refused to drink spoiled meat broth,and punished her by cutting off half a year’s supplies.” “We can’t even trade for fresh herbs,let alone wolfsbane!” Dad’s face turned ugly. “When did that happen?How could anyone eat spoiled meat broth?” Lily froze,then looked at Dad in grievance. “Are you saying I punished her wrongly?When I was little,I ate so many spoiled things in the kitchen,and I still survived just fine.” “I know you think I’m dirty and deserve to be poisoned.You don’t want to stand up for me,so you keep finding fault with me!” “If that’s how it is,then I don’t want the future Luna position at all!” Dad pulled her back and kissed her forehead the way he used to kiss Mom and me. “Don’t say things in anger.You are my mate.Whatever you say is the truth.” “Handle it according to Pack law.Omega Evelyn poisoned the future Luna.Drag her to the training ground and give her twenty strokes of the silver lash.” Before,Dad would never punish Mom after only a few words from someone else. But Lily was not pleased. “I know.I was born low,and my life is worth nothing.Thank you for your mercy,Heir Adrian.I just wonder whether more people will poison me in the future!” Dad sighed. “Then what does Lily want?I’ll do whatever you want,all right?” Lily looked at him with reddened eyes. “She fed me wolfsbane.She should taste it herself.” Dad looked at her tearful eyes and barely hesitated. “Fine.Then force wolfsbane down her throat and make her remember this lesson.” Mom gave a bitter laugh. “Adrian Greywood,I truly regret choosing you.” Dad looked at the emptiness in Mom’s eyes and seemed to panic. He walked over,but he did not help her up.His voice dropped very low. “I know Lily set you up because she feels insecure and doesn’t want you to give birth to an heir before she does.” “But I can’t embarrass her in public and make her lose the authority of the future Luna.” “I’ll have them switch the wolfsbane for a blood tonic.We once agreed we would have both sons and daughters.I won’t let anything happen to you.Trust me.” After saying that,he left with Lily without looking back. Mom was fed three large bowls of bitter medicine. But before long,she was curled up on the ground in pain,and blood stained the stone path red. “Mommy!You’re bleeding!Why is this happening?” No matter how I pressed my hands over it,I could not stop the speed of her bleeding. I hurried to get up and find Dad. But Mom held me back. The blood-rose mark on her wrist was becoming clearer and clearer,bright red as blood. She cried. “It’s all right.Mommy is all right.Don’t beg him.Mommy doesn’t have many days left here.Going to him won’t help.” “Mommy only wants to look at you properly.Does yesterday’s wound still hurt?Mommy is sorry.I didn’t protect you,and I didn’t put medicine on you in time.Don’t blame Mommy,all right?” I cried so hard I could barely breathe. “Mommy,I’m not hurt.Nora isn’t hurt.Nothing will happen to you.I’ll go get the healing potion grandfather left for us.It will save you!” I rushed to the storeroom for the potion,only for the steward to tell me that the last bottle had just been taken by Dad to help Lily recover her health. My legs went weak,but I still rushed to the hall. “Dad,you lied!You said Mommy would be fine!You lied!” He glanced at me and seemed about to rise,but after murmuring a few words to Lily,he closed the door. No matter how I pounded on it,the door stayed tightly shut. The guards threw me out of the manor again.I looked at Mom,who had passed out,and hugged her body as it lost its warmth. “Mommy,don’t leave Nora.What can I do to save you?” Mom gripped my hand,her eyes full of tears and reluctance. “Stay with Mommy for one more night.The last night.”

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I was the Saintess of the Southern Wolf Clan, fostered in the Northern Wolf Clan since childhood and raised alongside the North’s heirs so that we could develop bonds with one another. Whichever heir became my mate would gain the South’s support. The Northern Alpha had even announced that whoever bonded with me would inherit the North and become the new Alpha. In my previous life, I chose Beacher, the man I had loved for years. I even used the South’s secret arts to help him successfully inherit the position. But after becoming Alpha, the first thing he did was order my limbs cut off. Then he summoned a witch to seal me alive inside a coffin with magic. Afterward, he ordered the slaughter of the South. Not one of my eighty thousand clansmen survived. “Who ever wanted to be Alpha?” Beacher snarled bitterly. “If you hadn’t shamelessly insisted on marrying me, Betsy and I would have been together long ago, living happily ever after!” “You made Betsy die with hatred in her heart. Now you’ll learn what it feels like to suffer while waiting for death!” After being reborn, I returned to the day I was meant to choose my mate. This time, I decided to let them have each other. Seven days later, the Alpha issued two announcements. One named my future mate. The other named the future Alpha. Neither had anything to do with Beacher. So why were his eyes red as he knelt before me, begging me to marry him? …… “Cheryl, take a careful look at my heirs. Which one do you like best? Which one would you choose as your future mate?” The Northern Alpha looked at me affectionately, his eyes filled with anticipation. The alliance through marriage between the Southern and Northern Wolf Clans had continued for a hundred years. In our generation, I was the only girl. Naturally, I had been raised in the Northern Wolf Clan from childhood alongside several of its heirs. The Alpha had always doted on me as well. But I knew perfectly well that his affection was not without ulterior motives. I represented more than myself. Behind me stood eighty thousand people of the South. Winning me meant winning the loyalty of all eighty thousand. That was why the Alpha had already announced that the mate I selected would become the next Alpha. The heirs whispered among themselves. “Everyone knows Saintess Cheryl loves Beacher. Today’s selection is nothing more than a formality.” “Beacher really is lucky. He’s neither the most handsome nor the most talented of the heirs, yet he somehow won Saintess Cheryl’s heart. Even the position of Alpha will fall straight into his lap.” “And despite that, Beacher walks around scowling every day as though Cheryl owes him something…” Everyone waited eagerly for me to say Beacher’s name. I glanced calmly in his direction. His face was expressionless, his gaze passing over the crowd to settle on Betsy below the platform. When he noticed me looking at him, he quickly looked away. A flash of disgust crossed his eyes. I laughed inwardly at myself. Beacher, if the power and prestige of becoming Alpha mean less to you than one woman, I won’t force you. This time, I simply won’t choose you. Smiling, I leaned toward the Alpha and whispered into his ear. His expression brightened. He nodded repeatedly before turning to glance at Beacher. Beacher’s face changed immediately. He pushed through the crowd and dropped heavily to his knees before the Alpha, bowing his head to the ground. “Alpha, I am willing to become Cheryl’s mate. However…” “I fell in love with Betsy at first sight, and I refuse to wrong her. If possible, after bonding with Cheryl, I hope I may also provide Betsy with a residence and allow her to…” “Enough of this nonsense!” Before Beacher could finish, the Alpha cut him off with a furious shout. His brows drew tightly together, his face reddening as his chest heaved with anger. “What status does Betsy possess that could possibly allow her to stand as Cheryl’s equal? You are an utter fool!” Beacher clenched his jaw as though reaching a momentous decision. “Betsy’s status may be lower than the Saintess’s, but that is precisely why I must protect her. If I cannot even defend the woman I love, how could I ever be worthy of becoming Alpha?” At his declaration, disappointment filled the Alpha’s face. The onlookers sighed one after another. “We thought Beacher was merely mediocre. Who knew he was also incapable of understanding what truly matters? Does the loyalty of eighty thousand Southern wolves and the position of Alpha sitting within his grasp really mean less to him than an ordinary woman?” “He must be certain Saintess Cheryl will marry no one but him. Otherwise, he would never dare make such an outrageous demand.” The Alpha sighed deeply and asked one final time, “Beacher, are you determined to marry Betsy?” Beacher slowly nodded. “Please grant us your blessing, Father.” Seeing that he refused to reconsider, the Alpha gave me an apologetic look. He then waved helplessly and announced in a grave voice, “Everyone may leave. The bonding ceremony will take place in seven days. Make your preparations.”

Beacher took the Alpha’s reaction as approval and immediately ran to the tearful Betsy. “Betsy, did you hear that? The Alpha didn’t object!” “In seven days, we’ll be together forever!” Tears in her eyes, Betsy nodded repeatedly. When she saw me passing beside Beacher, her smile instantly disappeared, and she timidly moved to bow to me. Before I could speak, Beacher pulled her upright protectively. “Cheryl, if you’re unhappy, take it out on me. Don’t treat Betsy coldly!” “Although you chose me, the Alpha just agreed that she could remain by my side with you. From now on, you’ll be my mate in name, while she’ll be the mate in my heart. You two must get along. Only then can I focus on being a good Alpha.” I blinked at him in confusion. I had not done anything. When had I treated her coldly? Besides, had he misunderstood something? The Alpha had only said that a bonding ceremony would take place in seven days. He had never said Beacher was the mate I had chosen. Seeing Beacher openly defend her, Betsy shyly tugged at his sleeve and advised him gently, “Beacher, as long as I can remain with you, I’m willing to follow you for the rest of my life without any title or recognition. Please don’t argue with the Saintess because of me…” Beacher gazed at her with tenderness and affection. “Silly girl. A witch once foretold that I would successfully inherit the position. Once I become Alpha, I’ll naturally be the most powerful person in the entire clan. Why would I need to submit to a woman like her?” He glanced at me, his expression filled with warning. “Cheryl, you had better behave yourself. If you remain obedient and sensible, I may still be willing to have a child with you in the future. Otherwise…” The threat in his words could not have been clearer. In my previous life, after Beacher and I bonded, Betsy accidentally fell into the water. Although she was rescued, she constantly yearned for Beacher. Her health gradually deteriorated, and within a few years, she died consumed by misery. Her death had nothing to do with me, yet Beacher stubbornly blamed me. “She fell into the water barely thirty feet from your residence. If you hadn’t deliberately pretended not to hear her and delayed the rescue, how could Betsy have died so young?” He blamed me for Betsy’s death and tortured me until I died. He even took his anger out on the South, turning all eighty thousand of my clansmen into restless souls. Yet this creature, incapable of distinguishing right from wrong, remained confident that he would become Alpha. It was laughable. Suppressing my murderous rage, I interrupted him. “Your devotion to Betsy is truly touching, Beacher. Allow me to congratulate you in advance. May you grow old together and have children soon.” Beacher looked me up and down in surprise, attempting to find evidence that I did not mean what I said. Before he could determine anything, I walked past him without hesitation and smiled at the man patiently waiting nearby. “I’ll be waiting for you in seven days.” “You won’t break your promise, will you?” The man smiled without speaking and gave me a solemn nod before leaving with the others. He had said nothing, but merely seeing his broad, powerful back was enough to make me feel safe. In my previous life, as Beacher nailed me inside the coffin and left me waiting helplessly for death, I vaguely heard the sound of fighting through my fading consciousness. It was Hubery, who had rushed back to save me. He screamed my name in anguish and risked his life trying to free me, only for Beacher to order his men to shoot him through with countless arrows. His burning blood seeped through the cracks in the coffin and dripped onto my face. It also fell upon my heart. Only then did I realize how deeply and silently he had loved me all those years. Beacher followed suspiciously. “Cheryl, what does it matter whether Hubery attends when we bond in seven days? When did the two of you become acquainted?”

Betsy’s eyes shifted before she rushed to answer on my behalf. “Beacher, Hubery is handsome, and he and the Saintess also grew up together. It’s perfectly natural for them to be close…” Beacher snorted coldly. “No matter how close they are, she must maintain an appropriate distance and remember proper boundaries. She shouldn’t behave like some shameless girl who seduces every man she sees!” I had endured enough of their insinuations and raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you and Betsy been seducing each other for quite some time?” Betsy’s face instantly turned white. Beacher glared fiercely at me before immediately lowering his head to comfort her. The corner of my mouth lifted as I quickly walked away. When I returned home and saw the traces of Beacher filling every room, hatred surged within me. When we first met, he gave me a sprig of plum blossoms. Unable to bear throwing it away, I pressed it between the pages of a book and treasured it dearly. Yet not long after meeting Betsy, he gave her a priceless flower-petal-shaped gemstone. The painful contrast instantly made me realize who truly held his heart. I personally gathered everything connected to him. By the time I finished, I was so exhausted that I collapsed heavily onto my bed. Scenes from the final moments of my previous life haunted my dreams with terrifying clarity. When I woke again, three full days had passed. “Saintess, you’re finally awake! Who exactly did you choose as your mate? Why is everyone outside saying you and Betsy are both going to marry Beacher?” “You’ve been asleep these past few days, so you don’t know how wonderfully Beacher has been treating Betsy. Not only did he dig a lotus pond for her at his home, but he personally transplanted the lotuses beloved by the old Luna for Betsy…” “Betsy dislikes sweet food, so Beacher ordered that no desserts may be served wherever she is present…” “He even brought an entire wagon of expensive fabric from another clan to make new clothes for Betsy!” I suppressed the ache in my heart and forced a smile. My maid Amy looked at me in exasperation. “Saintess, how can you still smile at a time like this?” “Beacher treats Betsy like a priceless treasure. If you bond with him, won’t you only be making yourself miserable?” “That’s enough. Don’t worry. I didn’t choose him.” I smiled reassuringly at her, only for Beacher to push open the door just in time to hear me. Surprise flashed through his eyes before he gave a contemptuous laugh. “Cheryl, you’re jealous after seeing how well I treat Betsy, so you’re deliberately saying that to upset me!” I silently rolled my eyes. How had I never noticed before how shameless Beacher was? When I said nothing, he strode inside. “I came today to inform you that I moved half the treasures you brought from the South to Betsy’s home. You owe her that compensation…” My head snapped up, and I stared at him in disbelief. “Beacher! Those things were given to me by my father. They’ve been with me for more than ten years. What gives you the right to take them and give them to someone else?” I had left my home at a young age. Because my father worried about me, he carefully selected dozens of chests filled with precious jewelry and everything I loved for me to bring along. Those belongings carried all his love and longing for me. “I was merely giving you an opportunity to show goodwill toward Betsy. After all, once you marry me, you’ll need to get along with her!” Beacher spoke as though his actions were entirely justified. His shamelessness left me stunned. “We won’t take your belongings without giving anything in return. On our wedding night, I’ll enter your room and preserve your dignity as Saintess. However, I promised Betsy I would never touch you…” “So once midnight passes, I’ll go to Betsy’s room!” Beacher looked arrogant, as though he were granting me an enormous favor. I laughed coldly and met his gaze. “Beacher, return my belongings. I never said I would become your mate.”

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After six years of marriage, my husband, Michael, once again refused to meet me, using work as his excuse. I understood how hard he worked, so I made a special trip to New York to surprise him. But I never expected that when I walked into a flower shop, I would see my husband’s wedding photo with another woman. … The clerk confirmed with me again and again, “Are you sure you want these flowers sent to Michael Carter? The professor who teaches at the university?” I nodded, happily imagining the surprise on Michael’s face when he received the flowers. But the clerk suddenly shrieked, “That’s our boss’s husband’s name. What is your relationship with him?” “Don’t tell me you’re another one of his obsessed admirers?” After saying that, the clerk proudly pointed at the wall. Hanging there, plain as day, was a framed wedding photo. “Look how in love he is with our boss. Stop trying so hard to destroy their family!” The moment I saw the photo clearly, it felt as if I had been thrown into an ice cellar. For a long time, I could not say a word. The man in the photo was Michael. The woman leaning against him wore a white wedding dress, her face glowing with happiness. While I stood there in a daze, the clerk turned and went to a corner to make a phone call. A little while later, a woman pushing a stroller opened the door and walked in. Her complexion was rosy, but her expression was unusually wary. “So you’re the one trying to send flowers and seduce my husband?” Her appraising gaze was full of contempt. “Ever since my husband became a tenured professor, I’ve lost count of how many women like you I’ve had to deal with!” She looked so natural, as if she were Michael’s real wife. Everything hit me at once, so hard that for a moment I could not bring myself to believe it. I forced down the enormous shock in my chest, dug my nails hard into my palm, and struggled to keep myself calm. “Ma’am, you’ve misunderstood.” “I’m only here to ask Professor Carter for some research materials.” At some point, a few passersby had gathered around us. After hearing what I said, they joked, “Vivian, don’t be so angry. Professor Carter dotes on you so much. He wouldn’t even look twice at another woman!” Only then did the woman breathe a sigh of relief. She warmly pulled me over and had me sit down on a chair. “Don’t blame me. It’s all because my husband is too outstanding. Women are always trying to seduce him, so I can’t help getting a little nervous.” She lowered her head and kissed the baby boy in her arms. There was a showy note in her voice. “This is my husband’s and my child. What do you think? Cute, isn’t he?” I had to admit, the child looked a lot like Michael. Back then, he chose to stay at the university to teach, while I was assigned by the CIA to a covert station overseas. I was shut away there for six years. For six years, I endured all the danger and loneliness alone, risking my life in exchange for medal after medal. And what waited for me in the end was my husband keeping another family outside our marriage. He had even had children with her. Just then, a middle-aged woman walked in from outside. “Well, Vivian, Professor Carter finally let you out?” Vivian smiled playfully. “Linda, you have to keep it a secret for me.” “If Michael finds out I went out by myself, he’ll worry himself sick again!” Linda laughed along with her. “Oh my god, your husband is seriously the most devoted man I’ve ever seen in New York.” “Even when you’re having steak at a restaurant, he cuts it into bite-sized pieces and feeds it to you. Whenever you go out, he’s terrified something might happen to you. He worries like crazy.” Listening to them, a sharp ache tore through my chest, and my face turned faintly pale. Vivian handed me a cookie with a smile. “Have something to tide you over. You came all this way. You must be starving.” “I baked these cookies myself. Michael loves them, but he worries my hands will get tired, so he won’t let me make too many.” How ironic those words sounded to me. I had thought my husband only knew how to bury his head in research, careless and clumsy about daily life. It turned out he had given all his tenderness and consideration to his second family in New York.

“Mommy.” A child’s call interrupted our conversation. When I saw the little girl’s face clearly, my whole body stiffened. The girl looked a lot like Michael too. She seemed to be around four or five years old. She ran to Vivian’s side and acted spoiled. “When is Daddy coming home? I miss him so much.” I looked at the baby boy in Vivian’s arms, then at the little girl whining beside her, and the bitterness in my heart almost spilled over. Michael and I had been married for years, but we had never had children. Over the years, I had told him countless times that I wanted a child. When we were newly married, Michael once held me and said, “We’re newlyweds. We haven’t had enough time alone together yet. There’s no rush to have children.” Later, before I was selected by the CIA for the mission, I became anxious and insisted that we try for a child before I left. He agreed readily enough, but every time my ovulation window came, he would just so happen to be away on a business trip. “I’m really too tired. Why do you think I’m working so hard? Isn’t it to give you and our future child a better life?” “We’re both educated people. We can’t let a child hold back our careers.” Later still, whenever I brought up having a child, he would repeatedly say that he was worried about my health and did not want childbirth to drag down my career. For a time, I truly believed he did not like children. So it turned out someone else had already given him children. Vivian glanced down at her phone, her smile full of sweetness. “My husband almost never goes out, and he never works overtime.” “Today really is just bad timing. I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble you to wait a little longer.” At that, I was stunned again. The two words Michael said to me most often were “working overtime.” If he did not answer the phone, he was working overtime. If he could not come home to see me, he was working overtime. Even last Christmas, he had been working overtime the entire time. Three years ago, his mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. He said his project was at a critical stage and he had no way to take care of her, so he could only ask me to help. I was so busy I could barely breathe. But while his mother was ill, she jumped into a lake when the caregiver was not paying attention. The hospital called my workplace directly. I was truly swamped, so I asked Michael to go handle it. But he still shirked it, saying he was working overtime. In the end, I was forced to go and deal with it for him, which delayed my CIA work. Listening to Vivian, a bone-deep sense of helplessness swept through my entire body. Vivian picked up her crying little son and stood. “The baby is hungry. My home is nearby. If you don’t mind, you can come wait there with me.” I stood up almost eagerly, but still made my tone sound casual. “Do you live with his parents?” Vivian shook her head. “His parents passed away a long time ago. It’s just my parents at home. He treats my parents better than he would his own.” I picked at my nails, wondering how Michael’s mother would feel if she heard those words. When I lowered my head, my eyes accidentally caught a line of small print on Vivian’s daughter’s backpack: Department of Defense Affiliated Elementary School. Seeing me stop, Vivian smiled and explained, “That’s my older daughter’s school.” “My husband is a Gold Star Family member, so under policy, they made a special exception and let our child attend that school.” Hearing the words “Gold Star Family,” I looked up in confusion. “Gold Star Family?” Vivian nodded and sat down beside me. “Yes. His sister was a martyr who died in service to the country.” After she said that, she caught sight of the small embroidered words on the cuff of my down jacket: New York Headquarters · Central Field Station. Her eyes immediately lit up. “Oh, his sister used to work where you do.” “Her name was Sarah Carter. Do you know her? She died in the line of duty six years ago.” Those words struck me like a bolt from the blue. My body swayed, almost unable to stand. How could I not know her? I was the Sarah Carter she was talking about. As his legal wife, I had somehow become his so-called sister. It was truly ridiculous. Seeing my face turn deathly pale, Vivian considerately stuffed a hand warmer into my hands. “Did you get too cold outside? Here, warm your hands. Michael knows I get cold easily, so he stocked up on a lot of these.” Vivian’s happy smile was like a red-hot branding iron, burning my chest again and again. I struggled to steady my emotions and asked as if by accident, “How could they send someone to work in such a harsh place?” Vivian smiled and said, “My husband’s family has money, but what good is money? Without power or connections, people still bully you.” “So my husband stepped in himself and sent his sister there!” That sentence became the final straw. So back then, Michael had deliberately made me leave. He had locked me away in that isolated CIA place for six whole years. Knowing full well that I was my parents’ only daughter, he still sent me away without hesitation. So when my father died of a heart attack, I could not make it back in time to see him one last time because of work. On one hand, Michael used my “Gold Star” status to let the illegitimate children he had with another woman enjoy national benefits. On the other, he kept a beautiful woman by his side in another home, surrounded by children. My voice trembled slightly. “Have you… ever met his sister?”

Vivian shook her head. “My husband said he was afraid the family would be saddened by seeing her things, so he got rid of everything that belonged to his sister. He didn’t keep even a single photo.” “By the way, I still haven’t asked your name.” I paused, then gave a fake name. “Call me Sally.” Vivian laughed. “What a coincidence. Michael’s sister seemed to have an alias too. It was Sally.” I lowered my head and did not answer. Vivian chattered on the whole way. “Thank goodness my husband had vision and sent his sister to serve the country. My two children can enjoy Federal Gold Star Family benefits for medical care, school, everything.” “When my son was born, the government even issued a special compensation payment.” Gold Star benefits had limited slots. No wonder Michael had always insisted we remain childfree. It turned out he was afraid the children I gave birth to would take away his illegitimate children’s share. A bitter taste rose in my throat. I did not know what to say, so I asked casually, “When was your son born?” “November eleventh. The day I had my little boy, Michael booked the most expensive private hospital in Manhattan, with VIP delivery care the entire time.” My head snapped up, and my pupils shrank. That was the day my father died. That day, the doctor said that if my father had been brought to the hospital just one hour earlier, he could have been saved. But Michael, who had promised to help me take care of my parents, could not be reached no matter how many times I called. At my father’s funeral, Michael slapped himself across the face while sobbing and apologizing to me. I thought it was genuine guilt, so I forced down every doubt in my heart. Who could have imagined that he had been at another hospital that day, watching his illegitimate son be born? As the truth was laid out before me piece by piece, anger nearly burned straight through me. Vivian was still speaking. “It’s just that the two children are a little far apart in age. More than six years. They fight all the time.” At that moment, I could already be certain that when Michael married me, he had already been with Vivian. Vivian raised her hand and pointed ahead. “We’re here. This is my home.” Unlike our ordinary apartment, they lived in a penthouse near Central Park. The place was decorated so warmly. Fresh lilies sat on the dining table, and family photos of the four of them hung on the walls. Every sharp corner of the furniture had been carefully wrapped with soft padding. I forced a smile. “Your home is so clean and warm.” “Oh, Michael did all the decorating. He always says a home should feel like a home.” Hearing that, another wave of bitterness surged through me. When Michael was with me, he never touched housework. He threw clothes and socks everywhere and was too lazy even to take out the trash. If something at home broke, he would leave it there and wait for me to come back and fix it. Every time I took family leave, it became my deep-cleaning day. Thinking about it now, I was truly ridiculous. Cleaning the house, earning money to support the family, helping take care of his mother… All my efforts had become the perfect warm backdrop for my husband’s affair. I forced down the pain in my heart and asked as if unintentionally, “Your family seems very well-off. Money and status, and such a large apartment. Did you buy it yourself?” Vivian smiled. “My husband bought it.” “I was lucky. I had just come to New York from a small town when I met Michael.” “The flower shop downstairs was also opened for me with money he provided six years ago.” Michael came from a poor family. When we got married, even the home we lived in was rented with my salary. At that time, he had not yet established himself in New York and had hardly any money at all. And now that he had achieved success and fame, he spent all his money on his other family. Just then, the door clicked open from outside. It was Vivian’s father. His gaze as he looked me over was full of scrutiny and caution. “Who is this?” Vivian introduced me warmly. “Dad, this is someone who came to get important materials from Michael.” The old man nodded indifferently. “Michael is like my own son. The country values him, and I feel proud too. Tonight I’ll cook myself and make something nice for you all.” Just then, a phone began to ring. Vivian casually put it on speaker. I heard Michael’s voice clearly. “Honey, I may not get back until after midnight tonight.” “I know you’ve been craving those chocolates lately, so I made a special trip to buy your favorite handmade ones.” “Sorry to make you wait so long. Be good.”

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— Aria’s POV — I gave my rival my kidney. I gave my fiancé everything he wanted. I died exactly the way the story wanted me to. I just wasn’t there when it fell apart. The day Damien brought Sienna Locke home, he gave me three demands. “First—bow to Sienna. Lower your head and thank her for not holding a grudge against you all these years.” “Second—sign the divorce papers. Make room for Sienna.” “Third—donate one of your kidneys to Sienna for her treatment. Consider it your apology for everything you owe her.” Damien waited for a long time. He didn’t get the furious accusations or the sound of things breaking. “Of course, if you’re willing to admit right now that you were wrong—” He was still talking when I walked straight up to Sienna and bent at the waist. Deep and low—once, twice, three times. When I straightened up, I looked at Damien’s stunned face and asked flatly. “Anything else? If not, I’ll go book the kidney removal surgery.” Damien grabbed my wrist, his jaw tight with anger. “What kind of game are you playing now?!” I didn’t answer. But in my mind, I had finally made the decision I’d been sitting on for ten years. It was time to leave. This story was always going to end this way. Ten years ago, when I first woke up in this world, I’d known I was inside the pages of a romance novel. Damien Ashford was the male lead. Sienna Locke was the destined heroine. The Voice had told me the storyline couldn’t be defied—those two would fall in love in the end. But I didn’t believe it. I really, truly didn’t. Because Damien had looked at me like I was the only person in the room. Every time he’d said “I love you,” it sounded like an oath sealed in blood. I thought I’d rewritten the story. I thought I’d won. But what was the result? I looked up at him. The Voice echoed in my mind once more. [Die within three days, and you’ll be free from this world.] Our eyes locked. “Let go. If I don’t leave now, I’ll miss the surgical window.” “You think pulling a stunt like this will make me feel sorry for you?” Damien let out a cold laugh and released my wrist. “A kidney. There’s no way in hell you’d actually go through with it.” I didn’t look back. I walked out of the villa. …… The private hospital. The surgeon flipped through my file and looked up. “Ms. Moretti, Mr. Ashford already sent over the tissue-matching results. We can operate today, but we’ve run low on general anesthesia. We’d have to use an epidural—half-conscious sedation only.” “That’s fine.” “With a half-sedation, you’ll feel significant pulling pain throughout the procedure. It will be extremely painful. You might want to wait until tomorrow—” “Today.” The surgeon didn’t argue. He handed me the surgical confirmation receipt. Three years ago, when the company had hit a crisis, I’d drunk myself into a stomach hemorrhage at the negotiating table and ended up in the ICU. Damien had waited outside the ward all night, shaking from head to toe. When I’d come out, he had held me so tight it hurt and whispered: We’ll get through this. And we’ll keep loving each other. Always. But now he was a different person. The surgery took three hours. When the anesthesia faded, the pain hit like a freight train. I bit down on the gauze and didn’t make a sound. After they wheeled me out, I took out my phone and signed the electronic divorce agreement Damien had sent over. Then I sent it back. A clean break. I gave up every share I held in the company, every property under my name, every title and position. No dividends. No settlement. No compensation. I even included the account number and password for my own personal bank card at the bottom. Damien saw the contents and called me almost immediately. I declined the call. He called again. I powered off the phone. By the time I got back to the villa, it was already dark. The wound at my side still throbbed with a dull, grinding ache. Sienna had already moved in. She was lounging on the sofa when I walked through the door. She stood up the moment she saw me. “Aria! You’re back. How did the surgery go?” Her gaze drifted down to my shirt, where a dark stain of blood had seeped through the fabric. The corner of her mouth twitched upward before she could catch herself. I walked past her without a word and headed upstairs. From the very back of the closet, I pulled out a metal box. Inside were two things—a journal and a ring. I had started writing the journal ten years ago, the day I’d first arrived in this world. “I saw him on campus today. He seemed to notice me too. The storyline says he’s supposed to fall for Sienna—but the way he looked at me… maybe this story can be rewritten.” “I only had five dollars left. I spent four on a cup of hot chocolate for him. He couldn’t help himself—he leaned over and kissed me.” “We got married. We built a company together from nothing. The Voice keeps telling me the plot will course-correct, but I don’t believe it anymore. I don’t want to leave this world.” The entries stopped three months ago. That was the day photos of Damien Ashford—CEO of their company—kissing actress Sienna Locke on a sidewalk had exploded across every social media platform. I walked to the fireplace and threw the journal in. The match took three strikes to light. Ten years of handwriting curled, blackened, and crumbled page by page. When the fire was at its peak, Damien suddenly came through the door. He rushed over. He saw what was inside the fireplace and shoved his hand into the flames, pulling out half a charred page with his bare fingers. The words had burned away except for the last two lines—my handwriting from two years ago. “I love him.” Damien clutched that half-page, his eyes bloodshot as he turned to me. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?!” I didn’t look at him. I tossed the wedding ring into the fireplace after the journal. “Aria! Sienna was the one who saved me ten years ago—and you took credit for it this entire time! You owe me. Not the other way around!” He grabbed my shoulders and wrenched me around to face him. The wound at my side tore under the pressure, and cold sweat broke across my skin instantly. “All you had to do was admit you were wrong! Instead you signed everything away, burned it all, walked away from the company—what the hell do you want?!” “Look down,” I said. I pointed at the fireplace. As the flames died down, he saw the sheet of paper underneath that hadn’t burned yet. The kidney removal surgery receipt. Damien’s hands slid off my shoulders. His lips parted twice without producing a sound. He took a step back. “You… actually went through with it?” I turned toward the bedroom and no answer. Behind me, silence. He didn’t follow. He didn’t even try. Two days left.

— Aria’s POV — The next morning, Sienna showed up at my bedroom door. Behind her stood the same doctor from the private hospital. “Aria, I feel terrible for bothering you so early.” “My transplant surgery is coming up, but my blood count has been dangerously low. Your blood type happens to be a perfect match for mine.” She rested her hand lightly on her side and rubbed it, the picture of frailty. “For the transplant to succeed, I just need a small favor from you.” I looked at her. “Sure. How much?” She hadn’t expected me to agree that quickly. She paused for a beat. “Eight hundred milliliters.” The doctor behind her hesitated. “Ms. Moretti, you just had a kidney removed yesterday. Your body is in an extremely weakened state. Drawing blood right now isn’t advisable—” I cut him off and rolled up my sleeve. “It’s fine. Go ahead.” When the needle went in, I turned my head and stared out the window. Blood traveled down the tube, slow and steady. Eight hundred milliliters. A body that had just lost a kidney was already running on fumes. Halfway through the draw, my vision blurred and went dark for a few seconds. Sienna sat in the chair beside me, watching the bag swell with blood, her legs crossed, a satisfied look on her face. After I sent them away, I got out of bed. I made my way down the stairs, one hand gripping the railing the entire way. The wound felt like it was being ripped open with every step. By the time I reached the front entrance of the villa, I had to crouch down. I sat on the stone steps for five minutes, waiting for the black fog in my vision to clear. Then I called a cab. To the funeral home. The staff at funeral homes had seen all kinds of people. But apparently they had never seen a twenty-eight-year-old woman walk in to pre-arrange her own burial. “Single occupancy. The smallest you have.” I had two thousand dollars in cash left. The cheapest urn was pine. Nine hundred dollars. The cheapest niche for storage was in the northeast corner. One thousand dollars. After I paid, the attendant handed me a receipt. I folded it neatly and slipped it into my pocket. Outside the funeral home, I sat on the front steps and deleted every social media account on my phone, one by one. Ten years of posts and photos—erased. Before I deactivated my phone number, I sent one last message to my college best friend, Mia Hartley. After that, I canceled the number. That evening, I returned to the villa. Damien was sitting on the living room sofa. When he saw me walk in, his eyes went cold. “You deactivated all your social media?” “I called you all afternoon. Your phone was off.” “Are you playing the disappearing act now?” He pulled out his phone from his jacket and flashed the screen in my face. It showed a screenshot from his banking app. “I froze that card. Every linked card too. You don’t have a single cent to your name right now.” His lip curled slightly. “Sienna told me—you’re perfectly healthy. You never went through with the surgery. That receipt was a fake, wasn’t it?” “You think this kind of stunt is going to make me cave? Let me be clear—it won’t work on me.” I didn’t want to hear any more. I pressed my hand against my side where blood was seeping through again, and walked past him toward the stairs. Behind me, his voice rose. “You can’t survive without me. No money, no one left—who are you going to turn to?” I shut the bedroom door behind me. Nineteen hundred dollars had already gone to the funeral home. I had a hundred dollars left on me. Enough for one more day alive.

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After my husband gives away our tenth child to his mistress, I marry his childless godfather. I give Damien St. Clair nine babies. Every single one of them disappears before their first birthday. Nine kids. Nine empty cribs. Nine times he kneels in front of me, swearing he’ll find them. Nine times I shatter into pieces and have to glue myself back together. By the seventh, I stop eating. By the eighth, I stop sleeping. By the ninth, I’m popping three different pills just to keep myself from losing my mind completely. But Damien never leaves. Every panic attack at 3 a.m., every time I scratch my own arms bloody because the pain has nowhere else to go, he’s right there. Red eyes, shaky voice, holding me so tight like if he lets go, I’ll fall apart for good. “We’ll try again,” he whispers. “I’ll love you forever.” And I believe him. God help me, I believe every word. I let him back into my bed. I get pregnant for the tenth time. When that baby turns one, I show up at his private lounge to surprise him. That’s when I hear everything. His boys are drinking, laughing, kicked back on leather couches like kings. And Damien is standing right in the middle of them, handing MY child to some woman I’ve never seen before in my life. One of his buddies smacks his shoulder. “Bro, your wife’s basically a baby factory. You’re living the dream.” Another one cracks up. “Dude’s out here gifting whole ass kids to his side chicks. A car, a condo, AND a baby? Instant mom, zero labor pain. What girl says no to that?” Damien laughs, lights a cigarette, blows smoke at the ceiling. “Come on, they’re young girls,” he says, like it’s nothing. “You think I’m gonna let pregnancy wreck their bodies? Nah. Leave the heavy lifting to the specialist.” The whole room roars. And me? I’m standing right outside that door. Six months pregnant. Ice cold from head to toe. …… His newest fling, Sophia Mercer, is holding my baby. She looks down at the little face and scrunches up her nose. “Ugh, another girl? I already have one of those.” She tugs on Damien’s sleeve, full pout mode. “Babe, I want a new one. Something different. I don’t do hand-me-downs.” Damien wraps his arm around her, all smiles, all warmth. “Whatever you want. I’ll have her make as many as you need.” The baby starts squirming, fussing in Sophia’s arms. Sophia pinches the kid when no one’s looking. The baby screams. Sophia slaps a hand over her mouth. “Shut up,” she snaps. My heart stops. My nails dig so deep into my palms there’s blood running down my fingers. I can’t feel it. My whole body is shaking. Sophia keeps whining. “A whole year before I even get her? Obviously she doesn’t know me. Next time, I want one fresh out of the delivery room.” Damien tips his head down, smiling at her like she hung the moon. “Babe, babies under one are a nightmare. Let Claire deal with all that mess. Why would I let you suffer through it?” He leans in close to her ear. “If I ever saw a single wrinkle on you, I’d lose my mind.” Sophia giggles and slaps his chest playfully. One of his friends shifts in his seat. “But real talk, man… your wife keeps having these kids, and they keep vanishing on her. Isn’t she gonna snap at some point?” Damien goes quiet for half a second. Then shrugs. “She pops ’em out easy. Giving away a few, what’s the big deal? Worst case, I settle down in a couple years, let her keep a few. Call it even.” The room gets louder. Filthier. One guy actually says he wants me to have a baby for HIM so he can bring a grandkid home to his parents. Damien laughs and nods. Every single request, he agrees to. Like he’s passing out party favors. My legs give out. My brain goes blank. I press both hands against my belly and run.

I lock myself in the bedroom and shove my fist in my mouth. Not a sound. Not one. Every time I thought I was going crazy from grief, every time I wanted to die because another baby was gone — it was him. My husband. Their father. He planned every single one. New girlfriend, new baby. That’s how it worked. Every woman he moved on to, he took one of my kids as a gift. And now it’s Sophia Mercer’s turn. His childhood sweetheart. I cry until my voice breaks. Until I’m just choking on air. I beat my fists against my own stomach. I want this baby out. I want every last trace of Damien St. Clair scraped out of my body. I used to love being pregnant with his children. Now everything about him makes me sick. It’s past midnight when he finally comes home. He walks in already teary-eyed, drops to his knees, grabs my hands. “Baby, I’m so sorry. The nanny took her out this morning and she just… she’s gone.” I stare at him. He moves closer, squeezes tighter, eyes all big and desperate. “I’ve got people looking everywhere. We’ll find her. I swear.” Tenth time he’s fed me that exact line. Funny how he never once delivered. He’s waiting for me to fall apart. Screaming, sobbing, clawing at my own skin like I always do. But this time I just look him dead in the eye. “Okay.” His whole face goes blank. Before he can ask questions, his phone rings. He picks up, and I hear her. Sophia. That whiny little baby voice: “Babe, this little girl is SUCH a pain. I want the one Claire’s carrying right now…” I stop listening. I don’t need to hear any more. The second he leaves the room, I grab my phone. No hesitation. I book an appointment to erase my identity. Five days out. Then I dial the other number. When his voice comes through, I choke back my tears and keep my voice steady. “I’ll do it. But my condition is this — our baby will be your heir.” He says yes without blinking. I hang up. Almost right away, Damien comes back. Wraps himself around me from behind, nuzzling my neck, cooing like I’m a puppy. “There’s my good girl. See? No tears, no tantrums. That’s my Claire.” I let him hold me. My face is completely dead. Oh I’ll be good, Damien. So good you won’t even see me leave. Oh I’ll be good, Damien. So good that by the time you notice, I’ll be married to the most powerful man in London.

Next morning, Damien’s up early. That never happens. He takes my hand, all soft and sweet. “Hey, let’s go get you a checkup today. You’ve lost weight. I’m worried about you and the baby.” Before yesterday, that would’ve melted me. Now it makes my stomach turn. I let him lead me to the car. The second we get there, the passenger window rolls down and there she is. Sophia. Batting her lashes, whiny as ever. “Babe, what took you so long?” Then she turns to me, all sugary. “Oh, Claire! I haven’t been feeling great either. You don’t mind if I tag along, right?” I shoot Damien a look. He doesn’t even flinch. Just leans in close and whispers, “Let her come. Don’t make a scene. I’ll make it up to you later.” And just like that, it clicks. This whole checkup isn’t about me. It’s about Sophia getting a preview of my unborn child. Shopping before the delivery. I almost laugh. “Sure. I don’t mind.” Damien lets out a breath, lifts me into the back seat, buckles my seatbelt like the perfect husband. Sophia plants herself in the front. Shotgun. She throws me a little smirk over her shoulder and snuggles up to Damien, baby voice on full blast. I don’t say a word. Not in the car. Not walking into the hospital. Not when I sit down in the exam chair. The doctor runs the wand over my belly and asks the routine question. “How many pregnancies have you had?” I stare at the ceiling. “This is number eleven.” The doctor doesn’t react. But the women in the waiting room outside? They have plenty to say. I can hear every word through the thin walls. “You see how that man looks at the other girl? THAT’s the couple. The pregnant one’s probably the side piece.” “Eleven?! She’s gotta be popping them out for different rich guys. What a tramp.” Damien barely flinches. Doesn’t say a word to defend me. Sophia catches my eye and smirks. Then she spots the baby on the ultrasound screen. Her whole face lights up. She leans forward, can’t help herself. “So, doctor? What is it?” The St. Clairs own this hospital. So whatever Damien wants to know, he gets. He and Sophia follow the doctor into the back office. I’m left sitting alone on that exam chair. When they come back out, Sophia’s face is dark. She stares at me like I’m something stuck on the bottom of her shoe. Damien grabs my hand. Big apologetic eyes. Gentle voice. “Claire, I’m sorry. The doctor says there are serious complications with the baby. It’s not going to be viable. We need to terminate.” The doctor nods along right on cue. “It really is for the best. Carrying to term would only mean more suffering.” I look at the three of them. Here’s something Damien forgot. I was a med student once. Top of my class, actually. Until a one-night stand with him got me pregnant and I had to drop out. I saw that ultrasound screen. That baby is perfectly healthy. The only problem? It’s not what Sophia ordered. She already has a girl. She wants something new, something different. So Damien needs this baby gone so I can start over and try again. I look him dead in the eye. “What if I say no?”

Damien’s whole expression shifts. That fake softness vanishes. “Claire. You’re being ridiculous right now.” I’m done. I turn and head for the exit. But Sophia runs up behind me and grabs my arm, putting on her best worried face. “Claire, wait. Is this because I came? Are you mad at me? I’m sorry, I really am…” Her nails dig into my skin hard enough to draw blood. I try to shake her off. “Get your hands off me.” That’s when Sophia stumbles. Her body tips backward, she hits the floor. But as she goes down, she grabs my arm and shoves me forward with everything she’s got. I go down the staircase. My body flips, rolls, slams against every step until I hit the bottom. Damien sprints toward us. But the name he screams isn’t mine. “Sophia!” He drops to the floor next to her, hands shaking, checking her face. “Where does it hurt? Show me, baby, show me.” Sophia dabs at her tears, whimpering. “My ankle… I think I twisted it… it hurts so bad…” Damien’s eyes go red. He scoops her up and rushes toward the ER. Doesn’t look back. Not once. And me? I’m crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, both hands on my belly, shaking so hard I can barely see straight. Someone in the crowd yells out, “She’s bleeding! That woman is bleeding!” Pain tears through my lower belly. Something warm spreads between my legs. Bright red. Soaking through my white dress. Damien freezes. He turns around. Looks down at me on the floor. And his face isn’t panicked, isn’t guilty. It’s pissed off. “You know what, Claire? You pushed Sophia. YOU did this. So don’t you dare blame anyone else.” I shake my head, over and over, tears pouring. My voice is barely there. “I didn’t… it wasn’t me…” Damien pulls Sophia closer. His voice goes soft. Gentle, even. But what comes out is the coldest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. “Just deal with it. We were getting rid of that baby anyway. This just saved us a trip. But Sophia dances for a living. Her ankle actually matters.” Then he steps right over me. Like I’m a piece of furniture in his way. Carries Sophia into the ER and never turns around. I’m curled up in my own blood, screaming at the people staring down at me. “Help me… please, somebody help me… please…” They stare. They whisper. They pull out their phones and start recording. Not a single person moves. The last thing I see before everything goes dark is a doctor running out, shouting for a stretcher. …… Three days later, I open my eyes. The doctor is sitting at my bedside. She can’t look at me. “I’m sorry. We couldn’t save the baby. Please try to rest.” I smile. Gone. Good. My baby doesn’t deserve to be born into this family. And everything about Damien St. Clair makes me sick now. I check myself out. Go straight home. Pull together every document I need for tomorrow and shove them into a bag, hidden out of sight. One more day. And I’m gone for good. Then arms wrap around me from behind. My whole body locks up. “Get off me!” Damien nuzzles into my neck, voice dripping honey. “Hey, hey. You’re still mad? Babe, come on. I told you, there were complications. That baby was only gonna cause you more pain. I did it for you.” I laugh. Short. Ugly. “One baby after another after another. Gone. And you just shrug it off like it’s nothing?” He pulls me in tighter. His voice drops, and for the first time there’s a crack in it. “Babe… you make it look so easy. It’s never even hard on you. So we lost one. We’ll just make another one. What’s the big deal?” My whole body shakes. What kind of person says that? What kind of thing walks around looking human and says that to someone’s face? Before I can pull away, he grabs me by the waist, lifts me up, and throws me onto the bed. His eyes go dark. “Claire. Let’s try again.” I stare up at him. I can’t even process what’s happening. “Are you out of your mind? I just had a miscarriage!” He pins me down and kisses me. Hard. Like it’s not a question. “One more. Be a good girl. We’ll get it right this time.” I slap him across the face.

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The Queen called it a mercy. Thirty lashes of divine fire, and my mother died with her back flayed to the bone. That was the mercy. My mother was Basileia Chryse’s most trusted handmaiden. When the Queen was poisoned, my mother tested the antidotes. Drank them one by one. The pain knocked her clean off the cot. When the Queen’s child came out dead, the court demanded blood. My mother took thirty lashes. Half a moon she couldn’t turn in bed. I thought the Queen would protect her. Just once. The whole Sanctum was in a panic. They pinned it on my mother — said she’d murdered the divine heir. I ran to the Heraion in the rain and grabbed Basileia’s knees. Even gods aren’t supposed to refuse a plea like that. She peeled my fingers off. Brushed the rain from my hair. “Little one. Your mother is a faithful servant. Walking this road for me — that is a mercy.” So faithful servants should just die? They carried her back after dark. Blood everywhere. She didn’t look human anymore. That night I dried my eyes. Put on a servant’s dress. I’d be a faithful servant too. And her — her life was mine. Sooner or later. Years. I changed the scrolls, changed my name. Walked into the Inner Sanctum as nobody. I poured nectar without shaking. Bowed without flinching. When they yelled — Forgive me. When they hit — I deserved it. Invisible. The Heraion, where people still remembered my mother — I never went near. But she’d been kind to every forgotten soul in this court. Kairion. Old priest. Cold hearths. She’d given him her last fever medicine when plague came and no one else would help. He looked at me a long time. “Did she suffer?” “Yes.” He pulled some strings. Within days I was in the Cup Hall, pouring the God-King’s wine. Not a job anyone notices. Perfect for listening. What Aethon drank. When he got headaches reading treaty-scrolls. I worked slow. Never slipped. Everyone thought I was stupid. Good. Today a girl delivers the wrong cup. Fourteen. Shaking. White as ash. The Solarium doesn’t forgive mistakes. The lash if you’re lucky. If not — you disappear. The head matron raises her hand. I step in. Eyes on the floor. “Matron — that cup smelled off. I swapped it and had it sent to Steward Theron.” My design. I’d slipped a petal of Hypnos-bloom in. Not enough to kill. Enough to steal a man’s sleep all night. If that cup reached the God-King, everyone in the Cup Hall dies. So I swapped it. Made sure it was noticed. Theron came. “Who caught it?” I stepped forward. Small. Harmless. “I did.” “Sharp.” “I just know the God-King’s health comes first. Down here, we all fall together.” Long pause. Nod. “Name?” “Eirene Nyx.” Three days later. The Solarium. Cup Bearer to the God-King. First evening. Aethon Kronides works late. The Queen sends a gift. Bronze censer, Hera’s peacock on the rim. Sweet smoke. Her people bow. “Basileia wishes the God-King restful sleep.” Everyone smiles. How devoted. The smoke is sweet. But underneath — something bitter. Aethon rubs his temples. Gets worse. Everyone drops to their knees. All they can do is apologize. I carry his cup in. He snaps: “Get out. All of you.” They run. I’m closest to the censer. This is my chance. I set the cup down. My sleeve catches the lid — I shift the censer to the corner. Push the window open. “Who told you to touch that?” I drop my gaze to the floor. Head down. “Forgive me, my lord.” My voice shakes. “I know a little about herbs. There’s nothing wrong with the Queen’s incense on its own. But the seal on your desk — it’s new, southern tribute. The mineral in the metal reacts with this smoke. That’s what’s making the headaches worse.” Quiet. I keep going. Careful. “The Queen means well. But if her gift is doing harm — kindness has become a burden.” His gaze falls on me. Full weight. “You know about medicines.” “Just a little, my lord.” “Who taught you?” My fingers curl in my sleeves. “My family was poor. I was always sick. A healer let me learn a few things for sweeping her floor.” He didn’t press. He had the incense removed. The physician checked the seal. Confirmed. Bad reaction. Not lethal — but enough to cloud the mind, night after night. Quiet for a long time. “Your name?” “Eirene Nyx.” He said it again. Slow. Like he’d heard it before. He knows my name now. And the Queen’s censer will never be mistaken for kindness again.

After I become his Cup Bearer, I’m much closer to Aethon Kronides. He doesn’t like his wine strong. Afternoon, lukewarm. When he’s reading war dispatches, the cup goes to his left hand. If anyone tries to guess what he’s thinking, he throws them out. I never say more than I have to. Like a lamp in the corner. Standing quiet. When the Queen sends herbal draughts, I murmur before serving: “My lord, the physician said this heats the blood. If tonight’s feast has rich meat, both together may do more harm than good.” Aethon glances at me. I drop lower. “Forgive me — I only worry about the medicines clashing. Wouldn’t want the Queen’s care to go to waste.” He says nothing. Pushes the bowl aside. When Basileia plants her people in the Solarium to spy on me, I don’t report them. I make trouble for them quietly, then let Theron find the mess himself. I never say a word against the Heraion. I stay what I am. A faithful servant. But under my quiet hand, Aethon starts noticing: the Queen’s reach goes too far. Sometimes he asks: “You don’t seem to fear the Queen.” “She is your Queen. I revere her, my lord.” “Reverence and fear aren’t the same.” I lower my head. “I stand too low to fear anyone that high. As long as my work is clean, I get to live another day.” That night, the Solarium catches fire. A lamp-stand crashes into the desk. Oil splashes. Attendants scream and scatter. On the desk — urgent dispatches. Border reports. Disaster tallies. Alliance oaths he hasn’t sealed. I don’t hesitate. I throw myself between the fire and the scrolls. Pull them against my chest. The heat bites into my arms. Skin cooking. “Don’t pour water — felt! Smother it!” “Tear the curtain down — fire’s going east!” “Sand! Now! Go!” The hall is chaos. I’m shouting orders. Hair singed. Face black. Every scroll untouched. Aethon arrives. I’m on my knees sorting documents. “Who told you to risk your life for these?!” I bow low. “I didn’t want my lord’s long night to go to waste.” He stares at my arms. Something dark behind his eyes. The physician dusts powder on the burns. I flinch. “Does it hurt?” “Very much, my lord.” “Then why aren’t you crying?” I smile. Just barely. “Crying hurts just the same. Might as well save my strength.” After that, he keeps me close. I still don’t compete. When gifts come, I give them to the other girls. When Theron praises me, I say it’s his good training. When others get jealous, I stay out of their way. I know what happens to those who rise too fast in this court. A few nights later, he calls me to his private chamber. There’s a wound on his shoulder — training cut, shallow, but it keeps cracking open. The physician left a salve, but Aethon won’t let the man back in twice in one night. “You know medicines. You do it.” I sit beside him on the low bench. The salve warms between my fingers. His skin is hot. I keep my hands steady. “You saved the cup-hall girl. Protected my scrolls. Done plenty of good turns nobody asked for.” He doesn’t look at me. “Why don’t you ever take credit?” I smooth the salve along the wound. “I stand too low. If the credit gets too heavy, it’ll snap my neck.” He turns his head. Looks at me. “You really treasure your life.” “I only have one. Of course I do.” “What if I gave you a second?” I look up. Blank. He stands. Walks toward me. His shadow falls over me. The clay jar of salve slips in my hand. A small sharp sound. “Eirene Nyx.” First time he says my name like he means it. “I’m here, my lord.” His thumb traces the soot on my cheek. “Are you afraid of me?” “Yes.” My eyes flicker. “But I’m more afraid of staying at the bottom my whole life. Dying without anyone hearing the sound.” The candle flares. He bends closer. And so I enter the God-King’s bed. When I close my eyes — my mother. The day they carried her back. That body that wasn’t a body. Next morning, the word spreads through the Inner Sanctum. The Cup Bearer stays. The God-King wants her near him. Basileia Chryse finally hears my name. They say she barely looked up from her roses. “A servant who learned a few tricks. Nothing to worry about.”

I move into the chambers Aethon assigns. Finer furniture. Warm food. The charcoal doesn’t smoke anymore. Not honour. Just a new piece on the board. Visible pieces attract hungry hands. Basileia moves first. She invites me to a private dinner at the Heraion. Wine, figs, soft conversation. She asks about my family, my childhood. Smiles at everything I say. “You’re young. The court can be lonely. If you ever need guidance — my door is open.” I thank her. I smile back. I eat nothing she offers. A few weeks later, one of Aethon’s women — Ione — falls pregnant. She’s low-born, quiet, kind. Nobody important. But Aethon wants this child. He doubles her guard and has the physicians check on her every morning. The court notices. Everyone starts paying attention to Ione. Basileia most of all. In the old tradition, a woman carrying a divine heir must undergo a purification rite before the birth. Sacred water, blessed herbs, prayers to Eileithyia. The highest-ranking woman in the household is supposed to prepare the basin. That’s Basileia. She prepares everything herself. Selects the herbs. Blesses the water. Then she asks me to carry the basin to Ione’s chambers. “You’ve been so attentive to her, Eirene. It would mean a great deal coming from you.” She never does favours without reason. But I can’t refuse. I’m nobody. I bring the basin to Ione. She smiles, pale but grateful. “Thank you, Eirene.” “Let the physician test the water before you use it. Just to be safe.” On my way out, my fingers brush the rim of the basin. Cold. Deep cold. Under the nail, up the bone. Hecate’s blood — my mother’s gift. Every woman in our line carries it. Touch something that will harm, and your fingers go cold. Poison. That night, Ione bleeds. Chaos. The physician on his knees. Aethon in the high seat, face like stone. Basileia beside him. Dabbing her eyes. Louder in her grief than anyone. “A sacred rite — how could it go wrong?” “My Queen, the water contained a toxin. Someone added it after the blessing.” Guards search every chamber. In mine, beneath my bed — a vial of the same poison. Kleon drops to her knees. “Mercy, my lord! She made me hide it! She said if Ione had a son, you’d never look at her again!” Every word rehearsed. Every pause placed. Aethon looks at me. Whatever warmth was growing — gone. “I want to hear you speak.” I stand with my head bowed. “I never did this.” Basileia sighs. “You’re young. Jealousy is natural. Confess — I’ll beg for mercy.” When they pinned it on my mother, the Queen sat in that exact spot. Wearing that exact face. A servant from the market is dragged in. “She paid me for the poison. Said the stronger the better.” Vial. Kleon. The servant. Three witnesses. The noose tightens. “Take her back. She’ll wait for judgement.” Hands close on my wrists. As they drag me out, the physician calls: “The herbs too! The bundle used in the blessing — those weren’t purification herbs. Prolonged contact with the skin causes bleeding on its own!” The registry lists who supplied the herbs: Areia Pyrrhia. She’d been asked to gather them from her family’s estate — a favour for the Queen. Areia. Lord Pyrrhios’ daughter. Ares’ blood. Hot-tempered, blunt, no patience for scheming. The last woman who’d bother poisoning sacred herbs. Exactly why Basileia picked her. I understand now. This wasn’t sudden. She saw through me long ago and waited to take us both at once. If Ione loses the child — I’m the poisoner. Areia supplied the weapon. Wind cuts through the corridor. Mother. Have I been outplayed?

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I seduced the billionaire who ruined my brother’s life. The moment he abandoned his fiancée for me, my revenge was complete. Everyone in Ashworth City had heard their story. Dominic Ashford and Serena Blackwell, the most twisted couple in the city’s elite circle. Dominic Ashford was the sole heir to the Ashford empire, one of the most powerful billionaires in Ashworth City. Serena Blackwell was the crown jewel of the Blackwell dynasty, Ashworth City’s princess. She and Dominic had grown up together, and everyone assumed they’d end up married. But they had a toxic game they liked to play. Every time they fought, Serena would find some unsuspecting, decent man and get engaged to him. She loved the thrill of it — watching those men fall for her. And she loved watching Dominic lose his mind with jealousy. Every time he showed up to wreck the wedding, it proved he was still hers. It was their sick version of a love language. Ninety-nine times. And the ninety-ninth groom was my twin brother, Ethan Mercer. He thought he’d found true love. He’d poured everything he had into planning the wedding — Only to have Dominic Ashford kick down the chapel door on his wedding day, break both his arms, strip him bare, and dump him in the street like garbage. My brother couldn’t survive the humiliation. His mind shattered. On a rainy night, he dragged his broken body up the longest bridge in Ashworth City, one agonizing step at a time. And jumped. I was standing in the morgue, identifying his body, when my phone buzzed. It was Serena’s latest IG story. Wedding crash #99 — success! Dominic really is crazy about me! One more to go and I can finally marry him for real! The photo showed her in a white gown, tucked against Dominic’s chest, smiling like the world was hers. I looked down at my brother’s stiff, frozen body. And I laughed. So this was how they played. Other people’s hearts were disposable toys. Then this time — I’d bet my life to make them lose. I spent three months studying Dominic Ashford. His habits, his weaknesses, his obsession with Serena. I knew which club he went to every Thursday. I knew what kind of woman caught his eye. I carved a scar beside my own eye — ugly and jagged, but enough to mask the resemblance between me and Ethan. Three months later, I walked into the most exclusive private club in Ashworth City and got hired as a hostess. And just like I’d planned, I finally laid eyes on Dominic.

“Strip.” Dominic sat deep in the sofa, spinning a blood-stained Swiss Army knife between his fingers. A handful of trust-fund boys lounged around him with girls draped over their arms, their eyes crawling over me with lazy amusement. I didn’t move. Dominic raised an eyebrow. The knife came down and sank into the table. “You deaf?” “Didn’t you say you needed money? Didn’t you say you’d do anything for the right price?” “Serena’s overseas getting ready for the wedding. Those dead eyes of yours remind me of the look she gets when she’s ignoring me.” Laughter broke out around the room. “She’s a bit rough, boss, but that dead-inside energy? Definitely reminds me of Serena.” “Boss is one wedding away from finishing the bet. While Serena’s gone, this one could pass the time.” I looked at Dominic. The knife was centimeters from my hand. I could even smell the dried blood on it. Then I lowered my head, clutched the hem of my skirt, and let my voice go small, looking every bit the helpless girl. “One million.” Dominic paused. Then he burst out laughing. “One million?” “Bold mouth on you. You know what happened to the last person who tried to set terms with me?” “Though… something about your face looks familiar.” His hand reached up and touched the corner of my eye. Right where I’d carved that scar — ugly, deliberate, just enough to bury any trace of the resemblance I shared with Ethan. He didn’t recognize me. The plan held. The next second, a slap cracked across my face. “I do love the ones who’d sell their soul for a dollar.” “Ten thousand per piece. Whether you walk out with a million depends on whether you last the night.” Eyes circled me from every direction, hungry for a show. “Boss, I think you broke her. If she can’t take it, this won’t be any fun.” “Then again, nobody holds a candle to his girl. That woman’s got real nerve.” Dominic stared at me, already losing interest. He was about to speak — But I pointed at the table full of liquor first. “How about a game instead?” “You lose, you drink. I lose, I cut myself.” “Ten cuts for a million. Deal?” Every man in the room stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “Boss, does she know how you and Serena first met? Is she trying to pull the same move?” “Everyone knows you two hit it off over a drinking table. She’s doing this on purpose while Serena’s away — trying to play stand-in.” Dominic studied me for a long time. Then he smiled. “Interesting.” “That’s real fucking interesting.” I was yanked hard into his lap. The tip of the knife pressed against my cheek. “I’d hate to ruin a pretty face.” “So tell me — besides money, what are you really here for?” I held his gaze steady. “What if I said I’m here for your heart?” Something flickered behind his eyes. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and hauled me upright. “You? A hostess?” “You’re not even close to worthy.” The force of it nearly tore my hair out. He dragged me across the table and bottles went crashing to the floor. Glass bit into my arms and blood seeped through instantly. Dominic’s hand closed around my throat. He slammed me to the ground. “You like games?” “Then let’s give everyone a real show tonight.” That whole night was a blur of pain. They poured liquor down my throat until I choked. Dominic kicked me hard enough to crack my ribs. Cigarette burns dotted my arms, one after another — each one met with laughter or the click of someone’s phone. Nobody told him to stop. When I was barely breathing, Dominic crouched down and asked if it hurt. I didn’t answer. I just lay there with blood on my lips, staring straight at him. Something in Dominic shifted. “Serena…” His voice dropped to a murmur. The violence left his hands, replaced by something almost worse — a shaking, obsessive tenderness, like he was touching someone who wasn’t there. “Why won’t you ever listen to me? Why do you keep running to those worthless men just to get under my skin?” “Am I not enough? I’d give you my goddamn life. Why do you keep doing this to me?” He thought I was Serena. The woman he loved to the point of madness, and hated just as much. The first crack in his armor. I fought through the pain, raised a shaking hand, and gently stroked his hair. “I was wrong. I won’t leave. I’ll do whatever you say from now on.” Those words — Serena Blackwell would never say them. Not in a million years. She was Ashworth City’s princess, a rose made of razor wire. She didn’t apologize. She didn’t yield. She ground Dominic’s dignity under her heel and watched him spiral. That’s why those words cut straight through him. Dominic froze. Every muscle locked. The haze in his eyes shattered in an instant. He shoved me away. “Get out!” “You’re a goddamn hostess. Who gave you permission?” His foot slammed into my stomach. I curled up on the floor, coughing blood. Through the blur I watched him rip off his tie and light a cigarette with unsteady hands. “Boring.” He blew out a cloud of smoke and flicked a check at my face. “Take the money. Get yourself to a hospital.” “Don’t die here. I don’t need that mess.” I clutched the blood-soaked check against my chest. And smiled without a sound.

I spent a week in the hospital. Dominic never showed up once. But he sent over boxes of high-end nutrition kits, along with a message: “Once you can stand, drag yourself to the estate. You wanted money — here’s your chance.” “Once Serena’s hundredth wedding game is done. After that, you’re out of uses. So don’t waste my time.” I stared at those expensive packages and dumped them all into the trash without blinking. These two psychopaths treated crashing weddings like a game and other people’s dignity like a punchline. The ninety-ninth victim had been my brother. What he only got instead was Dominic’s fists and a public humiliation. And Serena? She had stood in her white bridal gown, nestled in Dominic’s arms, laughing. “Ugh, this groom is so boring. Didn’t even put up a fight.” “Dominic, don’t go too hard — don’t kill him. I still need him for my IG story.” That rainy night, my brother had dragged his broken arm up the longest bridge in Ashworth City, one agonizing step at a time. And jumped. I closed my eyes and forced the tears back down. …… When I arrived at Dominic’s private estate, I had changed everything about my appearance. A white cotton dress. Hair down. No makeup. This was what Serena Blackwell had looked like at eighteen. I’d studied every old photo of hers, every habit, every version of her smile. I knew how she used to walk, how she’d tilt her head, how she’d brush hair from her face without thinking. The moment Dominic saw me, the glass in his hand hit the floor. Shards scattered everywhere. A piece sliced across the back of his hand, but he didn’t notice. He stared at me, and his eyes went red in an instant. “Ser… Serena?” I stood in the doorway, fidgeting with the hem of my skirt, looking up at him with wide, timid eyes. “Mr. Ashford, it’s me. Ellie.” Dominic kept me. Not as a punching bag anymore — as a proper stand-in. He stopped letting me wear cheap clothes. He had an entire wardrobe made up for me, every piece styled exactly the way Serena used to dress. He stopped hitting me. He even started putting food on my plate at dinner, clumsy and a little awkward about it. “Serena used to love blueberry pancakes.” “The way she ate — cheeks all puffed out, like a little squirrel. Cutest damn thing.” “But then she changed.” “She started smoking. Drinking. Flirting with every man who looked her way.” “She called it fun. Said it kept things exciting.” “I hated it. I just wanted the old Serena back. The clean, simple version of her.” I swallowed a bite of that sickeningly sweet pancake and nodded like a good girl. “Whatever Mr. Ashford likes, I’ll learn.” Dominic smiled, satisfied, and patted my head. “Good girl.” …… Days passed like that, one after another. I played the perfect gentle girl, chipping away at Dominic’s walls one sliver at a time. Until one day. I was cleaning his study when I bumped the mouse by accident. The screen lit up. An encrypted folder sat in the center of the desktop. My fingers hovered over the keys. On impulse, I typed in Serena’s birthday. Part of me already knew what I’d find. It opened. Ninety-nine videos. Each one starring a different man. Some had been stripped naked and thrown into the street. Some had been forced to drink their own piss. Some had their limbs snapped and were left crawling on the ground like worms. These were Serena’s trophies. Medals she used to prove how far Dominic would go for her. My hands were shaking as I clicked on the latest one.

It was Ethan. In the video, my brother was on his knees with blood streaming down his face, bowing over and over, forehead slamming the concrete. “Please — I’m begging you — let me go. I was wrong. I should never have gone near Miss Blackwell…” Dominic’s foot came down on his face and ground it into the floor. He was laughing. “You think you’re worthy? You think Serena is someone a nobody like you gets to want?” “Since these arms touched someone they shouldn’t have — you don’t need them anymore.” The camera shook hard. Then came my brother’s scream — raw, animal, the kind of sound that doesn’t leave your head. The last thing on the video was Serena’s voice, off-screen. “God, Dominic, that was so hot! Love you! That’s number ninety-nine — next one better top this!” I closed the video. I pulled a bottle of pills from my pocket, shook a handful into my mouth, and chewed them dry. Antidepressants. My doctor had told me that stopping them cold could make things spiral — violent episodes, possible psychotic breaks. I didn’t care anymore. …… The next morning, Dominic was dressed to the nines, ready to go crash Serena’s hundredth wedding. I blocked the doorway with my arms spread wide, eyes red and swollen. Dominic shoved me aside with one hand. I fell — and as I hit the floor, something spilled out from inside my clothes. Dozens of photographs, scattered all over the ground. I’d spent a fortune collecting them before I ever set foot in this city. His foot was already mid-swing toward my ribs. It froze in the air. He stared at the photos like they’d burned him. The photos were all of him. On a basketball court, jersey dark with sweat. Asleep in a library corner, cheek pressed against a bookshelf. At a restaurant, arms thrown around his friends, laughing like he didn’t have a care in the world. A younger Dominic. Bright, alive, full of fire. Not the twisted, hollowed-out thing he’d become — the kind of man who got off on breaking people. Dominic bent down slowly and picked up one of the photos. His eighteenth birthday. Frosting smeared across his face, eyes squeezed shut in a grin. “Where did you get these?” I scrambled to grab them back, tears pouring down. “Give them back! Don’t look at those!” “These are all I have left of you. Don’t you dare take them.” “So you didn’t come to me for money?” Something shifted in his expression — something I couldn’t read. “Dominic, I just had a crush on you, that’s all! Why is it always Serena? Why can’t you ever see me?” “You came because… you’re in love with me?” I didn’t answer. And as it turned out — he didn’t make it to Serena’s wedding that night. Dominic didn’t say a word. He just looked at me like he was seeing someone for the very first time. Then he kissed me. Not rough. Not possessive. I didn’t push him away. His fingers threaded through my hair and slowly tightened. His breath turned hot and uneven, trailing from my ear down the side of my neck. He pressed me into the couch cushions, and his full weight followed. Shirt buttons came apart — the metallic sound cut through the silence like a blade. His mouth burned against my skin — the kind of heat you don’t pull away from. My fingers dug into the edge of the sofa. My body was shaking. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. Not from desire. From hatred so thick it nearly strangled me. His palm traced up along my waist, heat bleeding through the thin cotton of my dress. He whispered against my throat. Not Serena. Ellie. I opened my eyes and met his bloodshot gaze. Hunger. Greed. Pathetic. The same hands that had crushed my brother into the pavement were trembling on my body now. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shoulder. Later — in bed. Then against the floor-to-ceiling windows. Moonlight poured in, casting our tangled shadows across the glass. He called my name over and over. Ellie. Ellie. Like a man in prayer. And I closed my eyes, silently mouthing my brother’s name. Ethan. I’m here for you.

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My husband was marrying someone else. And his new bride hired me to do her make up. Right before the wedding ceremony began, I received the payment. And the memo read: [Final payment for Miss Tedd’s bridal makeup. Settled by groom Carl Lanion.] Carl Lanion. My husband’s name. I immediately pulled up the client file. Sure enough, his name was also listed under the bride’s emergency contact. Relationship: Husband. I stared at that single word, my fingertips going cold. At that exact moment, Carl sent me a message: [Honey, don’t wear yourself out today. I’m working late at the office.] I replied: [Okay.] Then I took screenshots of every chat, every transfer record, and the entire client contract, saving them all. Half an hour later, the groom arrived to fetch the bride. Carl pushed open the door, beaming, dressed in a crisp white suit. The moment he saw me, his step faltered. But the bride was already clinging to his arm, all sugar and affection. “Sweetie, this is the MUA I told you about.” I lifted my head and extended my hand with a smile. “Mr. Lanion, congratulations on your wedding.” “I received the final payment. And the evidence.” … The color drained from Carl’s face in a single heartbeat. The smug, breezy smile he’d worn just seconds ago now stiffened into something that looked like cheap plaster. Heather Tedd noticed nothing amiss. She even pouted and gave him a playful shove. “Sweetie, what’s gotten into you? She is congratulating you.” Carl swallowed hard, his throat bobbing painfully. He forced himself to take my hand. His palm was slick with cold sweat. “Th… thank you.” I tightened my grip, still smiling. “My pleasure. Mr. Lanion looks dashing today. The suit fits beautifully.” “I just wonder whether the fabric will hold up under closer scrutiny.” Carl yanked his hand back, his eyes flashing with warning and panic. He immediately turned to Heather. “Sweetheart, all the guests are here. Why don’t we let her go? She doesn’t need to stay for the rest of the ceremony.” He was desperate to get me out of that room. Before I could speak, Heather objected. “Absolutely not!” She flung Carl’s hand aside and sat back down at the vanity. “I’m only getting married once in this life. Every single detail has to be perfect.” “This eyeliner she just did—the more I look at it, the more uneven it seems.” Heather shot me a sidelong glance in the mirror, her tone laced with condescending disdain. “You. Come over here and redo it.” I didn’t move. My voice stayed level. “Miss Tedd, you confirmed it was fine just a moment ago.” Heather slammed her palm on the vanity. “So I didn’t look carefully the first time. What of it?” “You’re just the hired help. Shut up and do your job!” “My husband paid double the final fee. He bought your service, and you’d better serve me properly.” Carl was beside himself, sweating bullets. He kept dabbing at his forehead, trying to pull Heather to her feet. “Sweetheart, let it go. The makeup looks great. The ceremony’s about to start—we can’t be late.” Heather shook him off, her face darkening instantly. “Carl, what’s your problem?” “It’s our wedding day and you’re taking some outsider’s side?” “Don’t tell me you’ve got a thing for her because she’s got a pretty face?” Carl flinched and waved his hands frantically, scrambling to prove his loyalty. “How could I, sweetheart! You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me!” “She’s nothing—just some makeup girl. How could she ever compare to you?” To pacify Heather, he didn’t hesitate to throw me under the bus. I looked at his groveling face and felt my stomach turn. This was the husband I’d been married to for three years. The man who made me breakfast every morning, who swore up and down he’d only ever love me. “Well, since Mr. Lanion says so…” I stepped forward, picked up a makeup brush, my voice utterly devoid of warmth. “Miss Tedd, how would you like it changed?” Heather lifted her chin in triumph, like a rooster crowing over its defeated rival. “Take it all off. Start over.” “I want the look of a rightful wife—something with presence. Got it?” “Not whatever cheap, sneaking-around mistress look you’ve put on me.” She was clearly aiming her words at me, eyes flashing with provocation. I quietly switched on the voice recorder on my phone and set it down on the vanity. “Of course. As you wish.”

Throughout the entire redo, Heather had no intention of making it easy for me. The moment I picked up the powder puff, she jerked her head around. “Gentler! Do you even know how to do makeup? You’re going to rub my skin raw!” I paused and looked at her evenly. “Miss Tedd, you were the one moving.” “You’re talking back to me now?” Heather shrieked. Several bridesmaids swarmed in immediately, all chiming in at once. “You hired help really have no professionalism at all.” “Right? Taking our money and putting on airs—who does she think she is?” “Heather, why don’t you just file a complaint with her studio? Make sure she loses her job.” Heather watched me in the mirror, a mocking smile curling at the corner of her lips. “Forget it. It’s my big day. I can’t be bothered with someone of her class.” She looked me up and down, eyes brimming with contempt. “Judging by your age, you must be pushing thirty?” “Out here baking under the sun day after day doing other people’s makeup, and you can’t even afford a decent piece of jewelry.” “No ring either. Don’t tell me you can’t even land a boyfriend?” I dampened a cotton pad with makeup remover, my tone perfectly flat. “I’m married.” Heather blinked, then burst into exaggerated laughter. “Oh my, married? Then why are you out here doing servant’s work?” “Your husband must be useless—can’t even support his own wife.” Carl stood by the door, his face twisted like he’d just bitten into something rotten. He kept shooting me desperate looks, begging me to shut up. I pretended not to notice. As I wiped her face, I drawled lazily. “He is pretty useless.” “Can’t earn a dime, but loves playing big shot in public.” Heather snorted, drunk on her own superiority. “That’s exactly why I always say—for a woman, marrying well beats working hard.” “Take my Carl. Young, accomplished, runs his own company.” “For this wedding alone, he dropped over a million without blinking.” “That’s what a real man does—shelters his woman from every storm.” My hand paused mid-stroke. A crucial detail had just registered. Over a million? Carl’s salary card had been in my keeping the entire time. His meager monthly paycheck barely covered the mortgage. Where on earth would he get over a million for a wedding? “A million is no small sum,” I prodded carefully. “Mr. Lanion must really dote on you.” Heather assumed I was eaten up with envy. She preened even harder. “Of course. Carl didn’t just cover the whole wedding—he even gave me five million as a gift!” “A washed-up divorcée like you wouldn’t run into a man this good in ten lifetimes.” The bridesmaid beside her covered her mouth, snickering. “Heather, why bother telling her? Her kind has probably never even seen what five million looks like.” “Who knows—maybe she got caught playing mistress and got tossed out without a cent.” Their laughter was shrill and grating. Carl could barely stand. He strode over and grabbed Heather’s arm. “Enough, Heather! We’re really running out of time. Just leave the makeup as is!” Heather shrugged him off, irritated. “What is wrong with you today? Why do you keep taking her side?” Carl was drenched in sweat. He blurted out the first excuse he could think of. “The MC is rushing us. Several VIPs are already here—we can’t keep them waiting!” The mention of VIPs finally got Heather to rein it in. “Fine. Leave it then.” She turned and shot me a vicious glare. “Hurry up and do my hair. If it’s not perfect, I’ll make you cough up double the fee.”

I redid her updo and pinned the veil into place. Ten minutes left until the ceremony. A bridesmaid walked over and handed Heather an exquisite red velvet jewelry box. “Heather, time to put on the necklace.” Heather took the box, her face lighting up with smug anticipation. She deliberately turned toward me, snapping the box open with a flourish right under my nose. “Open your eyes wide. Take a good look at what real jewelry is.” Inside lay a sapphire and diamond necklace, resting on the velvet. The light caught it and threw off a blinding glare. I’d only meant to glance over. But in the next instant, my gaze locked onto that necklace and wouldn’t let go. The rage in my chest detonated like gasoline meeting flame. I knew that necklace. I knew it better than anything. It was the heirloom my grandmother had passed to my mother—the one my mother had fastened around my own neck with her dying hands. Last month, Carl had suddenly remarked that the necklace looked a little dull. He’d offered to take it to his friend’s high-end jeweler for cleaning. At the time, I’d actually been touched by his thoughtfulness. I never imagined he would take my heirloom and pass it off as a gift to his new lover. I fixed my eyes on that necklace, my voice cold as ice. “What a beautiful necklace.” Heather thought she’d stunned me into silence. She laughed scornfully. “Naturally. Carl had someone bid on it for me at an auction in London.” “The starting bid alone was three million.” She lifted the necklace and held it against her throat. “A peasant like you couldn’t afford a single chip off this stone if you worked your whole life.” I whipped my head around to look at Carl. The moment his eyes met mine, he stumbled back half a step and slammed into the door frame. His face was paper-white, his lips trembling. He couldn’t get out a single word. “A London auction?” I advanced on Heather one step at a time, my gaze nailed to that necklace. “Which auction? What’s the name of the auction house?” Heather flinched at my sudden intensity, then exploded with rage. “Are you insane? What business is it of yours where my husband bought it?” She shoved me away. “Who do you think you are, interrogating me?” The bridesmaids closed in around me at once. “What are you doing? Trying to snatch it?” “I noticed her staring earlier—I knew she was up to no good!” Then one of the bridesmaids suddenly screamed. “Heather! Your Cartier diamond ring—the one you set on the table just now—where did it go?” The room erupted. Heather looked down. The table was indeed bare. She spun on me, jabbing a finger viciously at my face. “You thief! No wonder you kept eyeing my jewelry—you were casing it the whole time!” “Hand over my ring!” I watched their performance coldly. “I didn’t take anything of yours.” “Still trying to lie!” A bridesmaid grabbed at my clothes. “There’s no one in this room but us and you. Who else could it have been?” “She was the closest to the table!” Heather’s arrogance hit its peak. She pointed straight at my makeup case. “Search her case! If we find it, I’ll have your hide!” The bridesmaids lunged at my makeup case like a pack of rabid dogs.

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Five years ago, my husband personally put me behind bars. When I got out,his ride request hit my app— and found him tangled up with my best friend who put me there. I’m doing unlicensed rides now.It’s the only work I can get since they stripped me of everything. So when the pickup request comes in from outside Club Nero — one of Dominic’s places — I don’t think twice. I just pull up and kill the engine. Then the door opens. Dominic stares at me like he’s seen a ghost. Maybe he has. “Elena.” His voice drops. “You’re out. Why didn’t you come to me?” Before I can answer, the woman hanging off his arm tips up on her heels and kisses him. Drunk. Sloppy. He fumbles to steady her, and that’s when I see her face. Sienna. My best friend. The woman who drugged me, set me up, and smiled through the glass while I was processed into a cell. I pull my cap lower and hold out my hand for the keys. “Sir, you ready to go? Five stars if the ride’s smooth.” “Elena.” Dominic knocks the keys out of my hand. He grabs my shoulders, eyes glassy. “Come home. My God.Do you know how much I’ve missed you? How much your family has missed you?” I peel his hands off me and turn to get my folding bike from the rack. My prosthetic clips the bumper. The sound is small but it cuts through everything. Dominic goes still. He stares at my leg. Then his eyes go red. I don’t understand what he’s crying about. He’s the one who handcuffed me himself.His own attorney’s badge, his own evidence, his own signature on the filing that put me away. He believed I’d slept with his brother Marco. He didn’t ask a single question. He just buried me. “Elena — your leg. What happened to you in there?” Sienna stirs at the sound of his voice. She blinks at me and her mouth curls. “Well, well. Little Elena.” She slurs it like a taunt. “When’d you get out? You should’ve called, girl. I’d have rolled out the welcome mat.” She leans into Dominic, wrapping both arms around him, pressing herself against his chest. Dominic frowns at her. “Sienna. You’re drunk. Stop.” “I’m not wrong though,” she says, pouting. “She did wrong, she did her time, whatever I always prayed she’d come out a better person.” Then she kicks my folding bike off the curb. Dominic lunges to catch her as she stumbles. “Watch it.” His voice is soft. Careful. Like he used to be with me. Once she’s settled, he looks back at my prosthetic. “Tell me what happened. The whole five years,what did they do to you?” His eyes are wet. I don’t answer. I just right the bike. “Excuse me. You’re in the way.” My pants catch the wind and the metal brace shows — cheap chrome, bulk-ordered. Dominic’s jaw tightens. “Elena, please. Come with me. Let’s talk. Let’s fix this.” He reaches for me. I step aside. “Sir, you canceling the ride or not? Because I can close it out from my end.” I hold up my phone. Professional. Blank. Sienna laughs. “Dominic, why are you even talking to this whore? She went after Marco. Didn’t even flinch.” She breathes liquor and venom in equal measure. “Losing that leg was the least she deserved.” Five years ago, she was the one who poured my drink. She’s the one who got me into that hotel room. When I woke up, Marco was half-dressed beside me,and Dominic was kicking the door in with two of his soldiers behind him. He didn’t let me speak. He slapped me in front of all of them. And then, because Dominic is one of the sharpest legal minds in the New York underworld, he personally represented Marco’s accusation and buried every defense I had. I come back to the present. Sienna has her arm hooked through Dominic’s, his brow creased— but he’s not pushing her away. Sienna opens her mouth to say something. “Sienna, enough.” He looks at me. “Let’s keep the ride going, Elena. You need the money.” He’s not wrong. I get in the car. The drive takes thirty minutes. Sienna whines for him to rub her temples. He does it. I watch the road and keep my foot steady on the gas. We pull up to a gated property in Westchester. Marble columns, iron fence, private security. It used to be our home. “One-eighty,” I say, and hold out my hand. Sienna pulls a thick fold of hundreds from her clutch and throws it at my face. “Keep the change. Buy yourself a decent leg. Stop embarrassing yourself out here.” She walks away on Dominic’s arm without looking back. Dominic stops by the door, staring at the bills scattered across the seat. “She didn’t mean it. She was drunk.” He pulls out his own roll. “Take all of it. And tomorrow come to the firm. I’ll find you something. A real position.” I pick up exactly what the meter said. One hundred eighty dollars. I leave the rest. “I don’t take dirty money, Mr. Ferrano.” “Don’t forget to rate the ride.” Sienna spins around, furious, and lunges . Dominic catches her. I clip my helmet on, unfold the bike, and ride into the dark.

The cold hits my face on the ride back. By the time I get home, the prosthetic socket has rubbed through. I unbuckle the harness and the stump is a mess.Raw, bleeding, ugly. I sit on the edge of the bathtub and press a rag against it. Five years ago, Sienna came to visit me inside. She sat across the glass and smiled the whole time. “You know how good Dominic is in bed, Elena? Every. Single. Night.” She tilted her head, lips curling. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep him very well taken care of. The house, the firm,all of it.” I lost it. I slammed my hands against the glass and screamed until my throat gave out. That same night, three women dragged me into a blind spot.No cameras, no guards. They had an iron rod. They took their time. “Someone paid a lot for this,” one of them said. I was on my back for six months. The infection got bad enough that amputation was the only call left. I hated them for it. But five years inside turns hate into something quieter. Something closer to nothing. The next morning, a hard knock pulls me out of sleep. I figure it’s my landlord again. It’s not. It’s Dominic. Standing in my doorway holding a container of soup. “Bone broth,” he says, like that explains anything. He walks in without being asked. “Don’t take what Sienna said to heart. That’s just how she is.” He sets the soup on my counter and turns around. “I came to talk about your future.” I lean against the doorframe and look at him. “I drive illegal taxi. I don’t have a future.” “Go on back to wherever you came from, Dominic. Don’t get your designer suit dirty.” He sighs. Turns to face me fully. “Elena. Stop.All you have to do is make a public statement admitting your private life was a mess, and sign over whatever shares you have left.I’ll bring you back into the firm.” He pauses like he’s offering me a gift. “Not as an attorney, obviously. But there’s a cleaning position. Five grand a month. That’s enough to live on.” He lifts his chin. Waiting. I actually laugh. “You want me to apologize to the man who lied about me?” Dominic’s face hardens instantly. “You still don’t get it, do you?” His voice rises. “If I hadn’t pushed for leniency,if I hadn’t used every favor I had,you’d have gotten twice the sentence. You should be thanking me.” He steps forward like he’s going to grab my arm and drag me out himself. I push his hand away. “Dominic. Did you ever actually read the case file?” “The hallway camera,why did it go out that exact night?” “And what was in my drink?” He stops. Just for a second, something flickers across his face. Then it’s gone. “Enough.” He cuts me off. “You think Sienna and Marco set you up? You think that’s what happened?” He shakes his head. “I’m here trying to help you. Don’t be stupid about it.” I point at the door. “Get out.” He stares at me like I just spoke another language. “You think you’re still the hotshot attorney you used to be? You’re a convict, Elena. You’re a woman with one leg and a gypsy cab app. That’s what you are now.” He slams the door on his way out. That afternoon I open the app to pick up a few ride requests. A notification hits before I can accept anything. My account has been permanently suspended. Reason cited: a passenger complaint. Inappropriate conduct by the driver. I stare at the screen. Dominic. Of course. He couldn’t even wait a day.

I haven’t even locked the door behind me when the landlord shows up with three heavies at my back. “Elena. Someone just offered me ten times your rent. You’re out. Now.” I don’t get a chance to argue. They throw me and everything I own onto the street. My clothes land in a puddle. The rain is already coming down hard. My prosthetic aches in the wet cold. Then a Maybach rolls up and stops right in front of me. It splashes mud across my legs. Sienna leans out the window, cigarette between her fingers, smoke curling. “Look at you. The big-shot attorney, living like a stray dog.” She exhales slowly. “God, Elena. You’re embarrassing.” Dominic gets out. He opens an umbrella and holds it over my head. “Stop being stubborn. Just apologize to Marco, keep your head down. I’ll sort the job, I’ll sort the housing. Why are you doing this to yourself?” I push myself up off the ground. “Get that umbrella out of my face. And take your girlfriend somewhere else.” Dominic’s jaw tightens. “Sienna was there for me when you were gone. She held things together. I’m standing here trying to help you and you’re acting like I’m the enemy.” He pauses. “Your parents have been asking about you. Don’t shut them out too.” And right on cue，two figures come running through the rain. No umbrella. Moving fast. My parents. I haven’t gone to see them since I got out. I was afraid the rumors had reached them. Afraid they’d been hurt by all of it. My mother reaches me first. She slaps me across the face before she says a word. My father gets the other cheek. “You have the nerve to show your face?” My mother’s voice is pure venom. “You’re not our daughter. You never were.” “Sienna is our family now. She’s the one who deserves that name.” My father’s eyes are cold. “A whore like you should’ve died in that cell.” Five years I spent worrying about them. Five years scared they’d been poisoned by the lies. I never expected them to take Sienna in as their own. Sienna steps out of the Maybach and takes both of them by the arm, guiding them back toward the car. “Mom, Dad. She’s not ready to admit what she did. Don’t waste your energy.” She glances back at me. “We’ve got the firm. You can both retire in peace. Leave her to figure it out.” My parents exchange a look, then turn on me with pure disappointment. “If Sienna hadn’t been running the firm all these years, everything we built would be gone.” My mother’s voice is sharp. “You want to keep playing the victim? Fine. Don’t expect us to catch you when you fall.” The Maybach pulls away. I stand in the rain until the taillights disappear. I limp two blocks to a diner I passed on the way out of my building. I need work. Any work. The manager takes one look at my prosthetic and waves me off before I can speak. “Get out of here. We don’t hire cripples. who’s gonna cover it when you get hurt?” I grab his arm and hold tight. “I work clean and I work fast. Half wages. Just feed me.” The manager huffs, impatient, and moves to shove me off. Then a woman in a cleaning uniform spins around from behind the counter. “Oh my God.” She stares at me. “Miss Elena?” I freeze, studying the woman in front of me. She grabs my arm and pulls me into the corner, eyes darting left and right. Then she reaches into her apron pocket and pulls out a small voice recorder. “Miss Elena, I am so sorry.” Her voice drops to almost nothing. “Five years ago, I was a cleaner at the hotel. Sienna paid me a hundred thousand dollars to kill the camera feed that night. But I recorded her. Her and Marco planning the whole thing. Every word. I kept it because I couldn’t live with myself.” She presses it into my hand. “Please don’t tell anyone it came from me. I just……I needed you to have it.” Five years. A destroyed leg. A prison sentence for something I never did. And the proof was sitting in a cleaning woman’s apron pocket the whole time.

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I leave the window open on purpose, so the Don of the Castellano family hears every sound I make with another man all night long. By sunrise, Damien appears at my door with a face like a thunderstorm, jaw locked, eyes black. “Got room for one more?” he asks, voice low and dangerous. I just lounge between two pretty boys, one arm draped over each, and give him a flat, dead look. “Thought you only had eyes for your precious college girl now.” His eyes go bloodshot red—but he doesn’t take a single step closer. Because I’m the woman who bled beside him for ten years, who helped him carve Harbor City out of other men’s hands. And he’d rather marry some college girl in a sundress than keep the promise he made to me. His soldiers can’t wrap their heads around it. They actually speak up. “Boss Nova fought for every block you own. She’s the sharpest blade you’ve got. You used to be obsessed with her—what the hell changed?” Damien grinds his cigarette out and twists the silver band on his finger—the matching one Lily wears. “Nova Quinn? A woman with blood up to her elbows? Every time I think about touching her, my skin crawls. How could she ever compare to my girl?” “But Boss—Nova’s smart. If she finds out and breaks with you—” Damien scoffs, cold as ice. “All of Harbor City already belongs to me. What’s one woman? You think my territory’s gonna grow legs and walk off?” He has no idea I’m standing right outside the door. Every word. I drop the bruise balm I brought for him into the trash and pull out my phone. I text Kieran Vance—Damien’s worst enemy in the city. [Damien Castellano’s territory. His life. You want them? They’re yours.] … I’m down at the dock arranging a speedboat off the island when Damien finds me. “Big shipment coming in two nights from now. You handle the pickup yourself. And clear out your beach house—I need it.” He gives the order like I’m one of his men. “The house is for her, right?” His brow knits. “Don’t start. I’m not going public with us because the situation’s unstable—Kieran’s watching every move. I can’t let the boys get sloppy over one woman.” “Right now, your job is getting Kieran off my back.” That’s how he’s always handled me. Gaslight, frame it as protection, send me back to bleed for him. For years I bought it. I broke my body for him, twice as hard. Now it just sounds like a punchline. I slide the boat requisition slip across to him. “I’m not pissed. I’m used to it.” Something flickers in his eyes. Annoyance. He signs so hard the pen tears the paper. “Nova—what’s with the attitude? It’s a damn house. Everything on this island is mine. You’re mine. I don’t need permission.” He throws the slip back in my face. “And stop bothering me with errand-runs off the island. I’m busy.” He thinks I want a shopping trip. I don’t correct him. I nod, push through the door, and head for the dock. Looking at that speedboat with my name on it, I actually smile. Ten years. Ten years I helped him build an empire out of broken bones. We were childhood friends. Brothers in arms. Lovers, too—the kind that would die for each other. Now I finally see it. That was just a story I told myself. A lie he wove out of my own devotion. He’s marrying someone else. That night, a small army of mercenaries escorts Lily Monroe onto the island. White dress, soft curls, wide doe eyes—and a smug little smile she can’t quite hide. “Nova,” she chirps, “you’ve worked SO hard for Damien all these years. So loyal.” “I’ll make him give you a promotion. And I’ll send you some pretty boys—a woman your age can’t keep waiting forever, right?” “Not like Damien. He couldn’t wait one more day. Tomorrow we’re married. Can you believe it?” My fingers curl around the grip of the pistol on my hip. It takes every ounce of training I have not to put a bullet through her teeth. “Move,” I say, cold, and step around her. But she grabs my arm. From her purse she pulls out a leather journal, eyes glittering. “These are the love letters Damien wrote to me all these years, when he missed me. The book’s too heavy to carry around—Could you toss it for me?” She glides off, skirt swaying. I stand at the cliff’s edge, salt wind cutting my face, and open the journal with shaking hands. April 12, last year. The night I shielded him from an ambush, blood pouring out of his side. He’d written: Lily, if I make it out alive, I’ll marry you. August 5, two years back. The night Kieran’s sniper put a round near him on a trip, and I walked into enemy territory alone, two blades in my hands, to drag him out. He’d written: Baby, today the air smelled like you. January 24. The night he got picked up by the cops and I took the charge for him. He’d written: If it were you in that cell, I’d never let you suffer like this. Every line carves a piece out of me. How many times did I beg him to marry me? He’d kiss my forehead: Nova. Wait for me. “I have too many enemies. I have to clear the path first. When I own all of Harbor City—then I’ll marry you. Okay?” I waited. Year after year. My phone buzzes. Kieran’s reply. Two words. [Deal. Done.] I tap the screen, and one more question slips out of me before I can stop it: [August 5. The hit on Damien. That was you, right?] His reply is instant. [Swear to God, that wasn’t me. I was framed.] [You chased me down nine blocks with two machetes over something I didn’t even DO.] I laugh. Out loud. At the dark water. So I was a punchline to both of them. A clown with blood on her hands, playing knight for a man who never even loved me. Fine. There’s nothing left for me here.

Nova’s POV I work out the rest of the pickup details with Kieran and head back toward the compound. That’s when I hear Damien talking to his men by the yacht. “Boss, the bride’s gown came in. We picked it up at that royal auction, just like you wanted—a billion-dollar dress.” “But… we’re worried about Nova. If she blows up, exposes the compound, Kieran could wipe us out in one strike—” Damien doesn’t even hesitate. “I love Lily. She’s the only woman I will ever marry. Tomorrow’s wedding goes off without a single scratch. No mistakes.” “Not even from Nova. I’ll keep her quiet.” “And keep your boys’ mouths shut. Anyone leaks a word, I feed them to the sharks.” I made my peace with leaving. I really did. But hearing the man who once swore he’d die for me reduce me to a problem to manage—it still cuts. The pain sits in my chest like broken glass. Back in my room, I start packing. Passports. IDs. Papers. Cash. I look around. Knives. Pistols. A shotgun under the bed. Ammo cases stacked like books. That’s when it hits me: Damien never gave me anything. Not really. Just weapons. To protect him. Once I asked him for a dress. A necklace. Something soft. He laughed. “Nova, even in a dress and jewels, you don’t look like a woman. Don’t waste them.” But Lily Monroe rolled onto this island with a whole truck of designer dresses and diamonds. So why her, and not me? I dig through the back of my closet. There it is—the red dress I bought years ago and never had the guts to wear. I slip it on. Heels. Lipstick. The works. Right then, Lily kicks the door open like she owns the place. “Nova, you read the journal, right? Damien’s truest feelings are—” She stops mid-sentence. Eyes round. Mouth open. Then her face twists. “I figured at least you had some pride. That you’d slink off quietly once you knew Damien doesn’t love you.” “But you actually think you can seduce him back? You shameless bitch—I’ll claw your face off!” She lunges. She’s got zero training, so I could slap her across the mouth easily before she even lands a hand on me. “Nova! You DARE hit me?! Damien’s going to make you regret this!” she shrieks. I cross my arms and watch her stumble. “Thanks for the compliment, princess. I clean up better than you. That’s the problem.” A second later, she drops to her knees and starts slapping her own face. “Nova—please—I’m trash, I shouldn’t have crawled into Damien’s life—just don’t ruin the wedding, beat me to death if you want—” I haven’t even processed what just happened when a boot comes flying at my ribs. “Nova! Are my words a joke to you?! You’re laying hands on Lily now?!” Damien. If that kick lands, I don’t get up again. So tell me—what am I to him? A guard dog? A punching bag he gets to swing at once she’s done her job? I twist out of the way, but the heel catches and my ankle rolls. Pain shoots up my leg. I bite it back and look him dead in the eye. He scoops Lily up, his gaze ice-cold on me— Then he sees the red dress. Sees my face. His pupils blow wide. For half a second, he forgets to breathe. His voice still comes out frozen. “Nova. Dressed up or not, you’ll never come close to her.” Lily clings to his arm, sniffling. “Damien, she forced me to talk, that’s why I gave her the journal—I’m so sorry—” He pulls her against his chest like she’s made of glass. “It’s nothing. No one’s mad at you, baby.” I laugh under my breath. Bitter. One minute ago he was telling his men they’d swim with sharks if they leaked a word. Now that Lily blabbed it straight to my face, it’s nothing. She gets to break every rule. He calls it cute. What does that make me? Just stupid? “So you’re really marrying her.” My voice doesn’t shake. I make sure. I need to hear how he explains this. To me. Part of me—the part still clinging—thinks he’ll flinch. Look guilty. Beg me to let them go. Instead, his brow just twitches. “Yes. Tomorrow. You can come if you want. But you don’t make a scene, Nova. Don’t make me put hands on you.” That’s it. The last sliver of hope I had—gone. I lock my jaw against the tears and shove the word out of my throat. “Out.” But Lily isn’t done. “Damien… I don’t know many people here. I was hoping Nova could be one of my bridesmaids… but I’d hate to offend her—” He melts at the way she asks for it. Turns to me. “Nova, being her bridesmaid is nothing. You won’t make a fuss about that, right?” Something snaps. I grab a steel rod from the corner and start swinging. “GET OUT.” I drive them through the door. Slam it. Slide down against the wood, breath ragged. A single tear cuts down my cheek before I can stop it. Then my phone lights up. A message from Kieran Vance. [Red looks good on you. Beautiful.] [Take the heels off. Ice that ankle.]

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