Category: English

Everyone in Suncrest Bay knows I have a wife that makes other men jealous. She’s not just an heiress to a wealthy family, she’s also the legal world’s infamous ice queen, the kind of woman everyone admires from a distance. But around me, she turns soft and sweet, like the perfect wife from a fairytale. I’d been planning to wait until our anniversary to tell her the truth. I wanted to reveal that I’m the Northhaven heir and take her home to meet my family. Then her birthday came, and I walked in on her new assistant forcing himself on her against a car. Pieces of torn clothing were scattered everywhere on the ground. I lost it. I went after him like a madman, and the assistant ended up in the ICU while I ended up in court. But here’s what I never saw coming. My own wife stood up in that courtroom as my defense attorney and turned on me. She accused me of malicious assault and never said a single word about that bastard trying to rape her. The judge gave me three years. I confronted her in the visitation room, demanding to know why. She just sat there looking calm as ever. “You’re my husband. Even if you go to prison, I’ll still love you. But Ryan’s different. He comes from nothing, and if he gets a rape conviction on his record, his whole life is over.” That’s when something inside me just died. Fine then. If she doesn’t want to be the lady of the Martinez family, I’ll take back everything I was going to give her. *** On the day I get out, Amanda Kane is standing outside the prison gates in a wedding dress. The second I see her, a wave of hatred hits me. If she hadn’t lied on the stand, I never would’ve rotted in that cell for three years. Three years, and she never once came to visit me. So what’s with this act now? “What are you doing here?” She smiles at me despite my cold stare and walks toward me, holding up the hem of her dress. “I’m here to pick you up, of course. My dear husband.” She stops right in front of me and reaches up to smooth out the wrinkles on my collar. “Today’s a special day, and I’m here to take you home so we can celebrate together.” I’m about to refuse, but she lifts her hand. Two bodyguards in black suits step out of the car and flank me on both sides. “Please, honey,” Amanda says with a sweet smile. I know I don’t have a choice. I take a deep breath and get in the car. During the drive, Amanda keeps her head down, glued to her phone, and doesn’t utter a single word to me. I’m fine with the silence though, and I spend the time figuring out how I’m going to divorce her. But when we pull up to the villa, I see the front lawn is covered in flowers and decorated with wedding arches. There’s a giant welcome photo by the entrance, and it shows Amanda and her assistant, Ryan Sanders. So this special day she mentioned is her wedding to Ryan? Rage explodes inside me, and I can’t hold it back anymore. I let the hatred take over. “Amanda, what the hell is this?” Amanda gives me a cold, mocking smile. The warmth on her face disappears and gets replaced by pure contempt. “Preston Martinez, you can’t seriously think a convict like you deserves to be the husband of a Suncrest Bay princess, can you?” The bodyguards drag me out of the car, and suddenly, everyone’s eyes are on me. “Oh wow, isn’t that the convict? They actually let him out?” “Ugh, seeing trash like that on such a nice day really kills the mood.” Ryan walks up to me in his sharp tailored suit with a smug look all over his face. “Well well, Preston, you’re being so generous. Fresh out of prison and already rushing over to attend my wedding with Amanda. That’s really considerate of you.” Staring at that vicious face, I didn’t hesitate for a second. I raised my fist and slammed it into him, knocking him flat to the ground. “Ryan!” Amanda screams and shoves me hard, then she drops down next to Ryan looking all concerned and helps him up. “Preston, listen to me. Ryan is my husband now, and if you lay another hand on him, don’t blame me for what happens next.” “Husband?” I sneered and shake my head. “Amanda, do I need to remind you? I spent three years in prison, but we’re still married. We never got divorced.” But when I say that, Amanda doesn’t look embarrassed at all. She actually smiles like she’s mocking me. She waves her hand and an assistant immediately walks over with two booklets. She throws both marriage licenses in my face. “Preston, open your damn eyes and look closely. This one’s fake, a piece of garbage.” Then she takes the marriage license Ryan’s holding out to her like it’s some precious treasure and waves it in front of my face. “Let me show you what a real one looks like, so you don’t get fooled by other women in the future.” “Think about it, Preston. I’m the top lawyer in Suncrest Bay and the Kane family heiress. Why would I ever marry a loser like you?” “Back then, I only married you because you had a pretty face. I wanted to play around with you for a while. But now that I get it. A puppy love is nothing compared to what a real man can give you.” She pressed herself against Ryan’s chest. Seeing them like that hurt to watch. Ryan wraps his arm around her bare shoulders. “Honestly, if it wasn’t for you, Mandy and I might never have ended up together. When you attacked me three years ago, that’s when she finally realized how she really felt about me.” He pulls out a business card and holds it up. “But hey, call me a generous guy. Since I’m taking your wife, let me set you up with someone. Paradise City has plenty of girls, and every one of them knows her shit. You’ll love it. Just choose one and I’ll hook you up.” Something inside me snaps. I punch him square in the face. “You two are disgusting…” The rage takes over completely. I lunge at them, ready to rip them both apart. But this is Kane family territory. Two bodyguards grab my arms and wrench them behind my back. My eyes are burning as I scream at Amanda, “He tried to rape you that night! I’m the one who saved you! Is this how you repay me?”

Amanda laughs softly. She leans in and kisses the blood at the corner of Ryan’s mouth, then turns to look at me while holding his hand. “Who said he was a rapist? What happened three years ago was completely consensual. You just happened to walk in on us. And then you had to go and attack him like an idiot. I couldn’t even pull you off.” My chest tightens. I can’t breathe. The memory of her face that night is burned into my brain—the pain, the fear in her eyes. “But you were begging me for help. You looked like you were in pain. You clearly didn’t want it.” She laughs harder, almost maniacally. “Preston, this is exactly why you’re such an idiot. Ever heard of roleplay?” All the strength leaves my body at once. My legs go limp, and without the table behind me, I would fall right there. But she’s not done twisting the knife. “You probably felt like some kind of hero that night, didn’t you? Protecting your wife, feeling all proud of yourself? I guess when you’re a total loser, you have to take your wins wherever you can get them.” “So now you understand, don’t you? I didn’t flip my testimony three years ago. Ryan was never the guilty one to begin with.” Classic move from my wife. She knows exactly where to twist the knife. I close my eyes and try to breathe, but in the end, I just grit my teeth and ask, “Amanda, are you really going through with this? You’re actually marrying Ryan?” She glances at Ryan, and they both burst out laughing at the same time. “What, you think I should marry you instead? A convict? Preston, you’re pathetic,” she sneers. “Fine.” My voice comes out flat. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I pull out the phone someone gave me three days ago and dial the only number saved in it. “Master Martinez, you’ve finally decided to call home.” “Tell Dad I’m ready to come back and take over the family business. But I have one condition.” The autumn wind cuts through my shirt as I lock eyes with Amanda and Ryan. “I want the Kane family empire destroyed before sunset.” The second those words leave my mouth, Amanda, Ryan, and every guest watching this train wreck explode into laughter. “Did he just say he wants the Kane family destroyed before sunset?” “Man, I don’t care how broke you are, drinking cheap booze will rot your brain. Listen to this guy.” Ryan grins wide. “Well, since today’s my wedding day with Mandy, I’m feeling generous. Let me treat you to all the drinks you want, buddy.” Before I can react, the bodyguards swarm me again and wrestle me down. They wrench my jaw open, and Ryan grabs a wine bottle from a server’s tray. He’s got a twisted smile on his face as he smashes the bottle against the table and pours the sharp alcohol mixed with broken glass straight down my throat. Dark red wine explodes out of my nose, but Ryan clamps his hand over my mouth and nose, cutting off my air. “Mandy picked this wine herself. You better not waste a drop, or you’re shitting all over her hard work.” The wine burns down my throat and floods into my lungs. My face turns purple and my vision starts going white around the edges. Just when I think this is it, Ryan finally lets go. He tosses the bottle aside and it shatters across the ground. Then he kicks me hard in the back. I stumble forward and crash down onto my knees right in the pile of broken glass. Amanda sits across from me, sipping red wine from a crystal glass. “Consider this payback for what you did three years ago. Ryan’s upset, so you deal with the consequences.” Then she notices blood on Ryan’s finger. She rushes over and kisses it. “Ryan, oh no, you’re hurt.” Her hand cracks across my face. The sting burns hot, but it’s nothing compared to what her next words do. “No wonder your mother’s dead, you piece of trash! How dare you hurt Ryan?”

People online are right. Never show anyone your scars. I never celebrated my birthday until Amanda threw me one. When she asked why I didn’t celebrate, I thought she loved me enough to trust with the truth. I told her about the wound I’d carried for over twenty years. “My mom died in childbirth. I’ve always felt like if it weren’t for me, she’d still be alive.” I never imagined she’d use those words as a weapon. My cheek still burns from her slap, but she doesn’t even glance at me. She’s already holding Ryan’s hand again, fawning over him. “Baby, be careful when you’re teaching him a lesson. Don’t hurt yourself. You’re going to make me worry to death.” They flirt behind me while hatred builds in my chest until I want to tear them both apart. Finally, Amanda sits back down in her chair. Ryan spits at me, crouches down in front of me, and grins. “You already drank the wine. Seems wrong not to let you taste how sweet our love is.” The crowd around us starts jeering. “There you go, Ryan!” Before I can react, the bodyguards grab me and hold me up. Ryan picks up a chair and slams it into my lower back. I fly forward like a dying dog being kicked aside. But he’s not done. He has them drag me back up and hits me again. And again. Until my back won’t straighten anymore. Amanda suddenly perks up like she just remembered something fun. She walks over looking excited. “Oh my god, I almost forgot.” “You used to say you’d love me forever, remember? And even though I don’t love you anymore, you still love me, don’t you?” I force out a harsh laugh through clenched teeth. I gave her too much freedom, too much affection. She’s so far up her own ass she actually believes this garbage. Someone needs to fix that. She waves her hand, and a servant hurries over carrying a pregnant dog. “I paid a fortune teller good money to pick today. You should feel lucky.” She smirks at me. “Ryan and I got this dog when we first started dating. Marrying into our family, even if it’s just to our dog, is better than you deserve.” She pulls out two rings and signals to her people. They grab my arms and pin me down. I realize what she’s planning, and I thrash against their grip, but there are too many of them. One of them wrenches my hand open while another forces a ring onto my finger. The servant holds the dog’s paw out, and Amanda slips the other ring around the dog’s leg like a bracelet. Amanda throws her head back and laughs. “There! Now this bitch is officially your wife. Make sure you take good care of her and those puppies in her belly.” My stomach turns. I can taste bile rising in my throat, and I double over and retch onto the ground. Amanda frowns at the bodyguard, and his fist crashes into my face. “How dare you act disgusted by my dog? You filthy convict.” Her voice drops to something cold and sharp. “Beat him. Don’t stop until Preston calls this dog his wife.” She knows exactly what she’s doing. I’ve always valued dignity above everything else. It’s how I was raised. She’s trying to break me completely. The blows rain down. At first, each impact brings sharp, blinding pain. I feel bones crack. But the longer it goes on, the less I feel. My body goes numb, mirroring a heart that already died. Ryan grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my head up. “Well? You gonna say it or not?” I force my split lips into a grin. Maybe if the pain gets bad enough, I’ll feel something again. “Kill me now if you’ve got the balls. Otherwise, I swear I’ll make every single one of you suffer a thousand times worse than this.” Ryan’s smile twists into something vicious. “What was that? Did I hear you right?” He looks over at Amanda. “Mandy, your ex isn’t just broke and useless. He’s delusional too.” Amanda suddenly raises her hand. The beating stops. For one pathetic second, warmth floods through my chest. Does she still care about me, even a little?

The next second, I understand what’s really happening, and I hate myself for being stupid enough to hope. “Oh! How could I forget?” Amanda claps her hands together. “Every wedding needs a cake.” She and Ryan exchange a look. They’re both smiling now, satisfied. The bodyguards haul me up. I’m too beaten and bloody to fight back anymore. A massive wedding cake appears in front of me. I realize what they’re about to do right before they hurl me into it. Frosting swallows me whole. It’s sickeningly sweet, coating every inch of my skin in thick, sticky layers. The top tier crashes down. Everything goes dark as the cake buries me underneath. The thick frosting covers my nose and mouth. I can’t breathe. My lungs burn as the oxygen slowly runs out. I close my eyes, and for a second, I let myself give up. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn when I was younger. I shouldn’t have left my family and come to Suncrest Bay alone to prove myself. But my biggest regret is falling in love with Amanda. Maybe leaving home wasn’t the mistake. Maybe Amanda was always the mistake. She’s a monster, and I was stupid enough to think I could turn her into something good. My whole life flashes through my mind, and the memory that sticks is being a kid on the beach building sandcastles with my father. The regret hits me like a wave. I used to imagine taking Amanda home one day. Holding her hand and introducing her to my father, telling him she’s the one I love. I never imagined the woman I love would be the one to kill me. No. I can’t die yet. Not before I make these two pay for what they’ve done. The thought jolts me awake. I shift my left hand slowly and push the frosting off my face. Air rushes into my lungs, and my head clears instantly. The crowd’s laughter and insults pour into my ears. The sky’s getting darker. Almost there. Just hold on a little longer and I’ll win this. I already lost once. I’m not losing again. “Preston should look in a mirror. Like he ever had a chance with Amanda. Crazy.” “Don’t even talk about him being a convict now. Even three years ago, a worthless pretty face like him could never be worthy of someone like Amanda.” “Amanda and Ryan are perfect together. She was just messing around with Preston all those years. Who knew he’d actually take it seriously?” It’s almost funny how blind I was. She’s been sleeping with Ryan this whole time, and I never noticed. Ryan sees my head emerge from the cake and grabs my collar, ready to shove me back down. I catch his wrist. “Try it. We live in a civilized society, asshole. I die, and you go down too.” “Oh really?” Ryan looks at Amanda. She just shrugs with a smile on her face. “Oh? Mr. Martinez gets out of prison, can’t handle his ex getting married, and kills himself. What does that have to do with us?” She turns to the crowd. “Did anyone see Preston here today?” Everyone laughs and shakes their heads. “Preston? Who’s Preston?” “Nope, didn’t see anyone. We were at Amanda’s party after the wedding until sunrise. Never saw the guy.” Amanda smirks at me. “You see? Three years ago, I erased the garage surveillance footage, and three years later, I can erase the villa footage just as easily. You’re a convict. Nobody’s going to care if you’re dead.” The party keeps going around me like I’m not even there. At that moment, sirens split the air. Car doors slam in perfect unison. “Everyone freeze!”

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The Rogues circle the Stronghold like death itself. I watch the last child die—his intestines torn from his belly while he’s still screaming. The warriors around me collapse. These are grown wolves. Battle-hardened males who’ve ripped throats and survived pack wars. Now they weep like cubs. “Alpha Kade!” Jakob grabs my shoulder, his claws digging into my flesh. His two-month-old daughter is somewhere in that carnage. “You told us Luna Selene was lying! You said she was jealous, that we should guard you and Lola at Starfall Ridge!” His voice cracks like breaking bone. “Why is my baby missing her face?” Kade stands frozen. His golden Alpha eyes are empty. Hollow. I stare at the carnage and my heart shatters. I’ve lived this moment before. — In my Previous life, the Rogues attacked during Lola’s birthday. My husband—the Pack Alpha—took every warrior to the ridge so his “true love” could watch the Starfall Ceremony. He said I was paranoid. Jealous. A bitter Luna who couldn’t accept that he loved someone else. I begged them to return. I screamed through the Mind-Link until my throat bled. They came back to corpses. But Lola wandered into the woods—sulking because Kade kept checking the Mind-Link during “her special night.” The Rogues found her. Dragged her screaming into the darkness. By the time we arrived, nothing remained but her left femur. Kade held that bone for six hours. Didn’t speak. Didn’t shift. Didn’t breathe. Then, the day I gave birth to our son, he severed my hands with silver. My feet next. He threw me into a Rogue feeding pit and healed me. Over and over. Letting them tear chunks from my flesh while the mate bond forced me to feel his hatred burning like acid through my chest. “You killed her,” he whispered while I screamed. “So You must be suffering more than she was. ” I died on day seven. I woke On the day when the Rogues launched the attack. — The howling hits me first. Not through the Mind-Link—that’s filtered, controlled. This is raw. A thousand feral throats shrieking hunger across the mountains. I’m out of bed before conscious thought. My bare feet slap stone as I sprint toward the control room. The Stronghold is three stories of timber and reinforced steel, built to withstand siege. I take the stairs three at a time. The broadcast panel glows blue. I grab the mic, hands shaking. “All pack members, this is Luna Selene.” My voice doesn’t waver. It can’t. “Massive Rogue surge from the northern pass. Get to the Panic Room. Now!” I slam the alarm. Red lights flood the corridors. Doors bang. Footsteps thunder. Outside, someone screams. I grab the emergency rifle—silver bullets, blessed by our Shaman—and run. The courtyard is chaos. Mothers clutching cubs. Elders stumbling. The air reeks of fear-sweat and the rot-stench of Rogues. Three crash through the east fence. They used to be wolves. Now they’re things. Fur matted with dried blood and filth. Eyes milky white. Jaws unhinged, hanging at grotesque angles. They don’t hunt for territory. The madness ate everything else. I fire. Silver tears through the first one’s skull. It drops, convulsing. “MOVE!” I scream at a frozen teenager. I shove him toward the Panic Room—a reinforced bunker built into the ground. “Get inside!” More Rogues pour through. I shoot until the clip runs dry, then shift. Bones crack. Fur erupts. My wolf is smaller than the males’ but faster. I slam into a Rogue mid-leap, jaws closing around its rotten throat. The taste is rancid decay. I rip and spit and move. Someone yanks a child from snapping teeth. Someone else seals the hatch. The heavy locks clang shut. Silence. I shift back, naked and trembling. Blood—mine, theirs—drips down my ribs. We’re in the Panic Room. Concrete walls. Air filtration. Supplies for two weeks. But the Wards are failing. I feel it. The electric hum that usually surrounds the Stronghold is stuttering. Dying. Mary—an Omega whose son is four—grabs my wrist. Her hands shake. “Luna, you have to Mind-Link the Alpha. Tell him to come back. Tell him to activate the Wards!” I close my eyes. The cruel truth breaks my heart, yet I cannot lie. “He can’t,” I say quietly. “Alpha Kade took every warrior to Starfall Ridge. He’s protecting Lola during the Ceremony.” The room erupts. “The Ceremony? Are you serious?” “He left us to die for some lights?” “She’s not even his real mate!” BANG—— The steel door buckles. Metal shrieks. A dent craters the center. BANG—— Another hit. These Rogues are stronger. Evolved. We have minutes. I look at Elder Martha—Kade’s mother. Former Luna. Seventy-three with silver hair and a wolf that can still kill. She meets my eyes. “The Silver Wards,” I say. “If we activate the backup grid, it’ll fry everything within a hundred yards.” Hope flickers across faces. Martha pulls out the Alpha emergency comm—satellite link that bypasses Mind-Link. She dials. The line clicks. “Mom?” Kade’s voice is annoyed. Distracted. In the background: music. Laughter. Lola’s giggle. “Kind of busy.” Martha’s jaw clenches. “Kade. The Stronghold is under siege. Rogue surge. We’re in the Panic Room, Wards are failing. Activate the Silver Grid. Now！” Everyone holds their breath. Kade laughs. “Mom, seriously? The Grid pulls power from the Starfall lights. We’re thirty minutes from peak display. I can’t shut it down.” His tone shifts. Suspicious. “Is Selene there? Did she put you up to this?” Martha’s hand shakes. “Your Luna just saved twenty—” “My Luna is jealous,” Kade cuts her off. “She’s been pulling this for months. ‘Lola’s dangerous.’ ‘Rogues are coming.’ It’s pathetic.” He scoffs. “Tell Selene if she keeps trying to ruin Lola’s night, there’ll be consequences. I’m not falling for fake emergency bullshit.” The line goes dead. Mary’s face drains white. “He thinks we’re lying?” Samuel—former Beta—slumps against the wall. “We’re going to die. For a light show.” Martha stares at the comm in her hand. Then she looks at me. Her eyes burn. “Service tunnel,” she says slowly. “Runs from here to the old mining roads. Six miles through Rogue territory to Silverpine Base. They have warriors. ” She grips my shoulder. “You and I go. We shift and run.” The door splits. A rotting paw shoves through. Claws scrape metal. A pup was frightened and she started crying. Martha doesn’t flinch. “We leave in sixty seconds. Barricade after we’re gone.” She doesn’t finish the sentence. She doesn’t have to. I nod. Because if we don’t make it, everyone here dies.

Hope flickers in my chest as Martha speaks. “Wait for me,” she says, slipping through the side door. One hour later, the Panic Room door tears open. A rotting arm reaches through, grabbing for the baby in Mary’s arms. The infant’s cry cuts off mid-scream. The mother collapses. Her eyes go empty. Despair floods the room—then a figure rushes through the side entrance. Martha! “Did you bring the warriors back?” voices cry out. She’s covered in blood. “Barricade that gap!” I rush to steady her. Martha’s voice shakes. “That bastard.” She’s trembling with rage. “Kade set up blockades on every path. Every single one. All to make sure no one could interrupt Lola’s precious birthday fireworks.” Her eyes are bloodshot. The room goes silent. Cold dread creeps up my spine. I stumble backward. He blocked even his own mother. “We can’t just sit here and die!” I force myself upright. “If we can’t reach the warriors, we call for backup!” I frantically adjust the radio frequency, cycling through nearby pack channels. I explain our situation. Beg for emergency aid. Silence on the other end. Then: “We’re sorry. We can’t help.” My blood runs cold. “An hour ago, Alpha Kade personally warned us that someone in your pack might file false distress calls. He ordered us to ignore all requests for aid tonight.” He planned this. All of it. He cut off every possible escape route to ensure Lola’s birthday wouldn’t be interrupted. He calculated every path, blocked every exit. Martha’s face goes white. “I’m Kade’s mother, I’m begging—” “Elder Martha,” the voice interrupts, cold as ice. “Alpha Kade specifically mentioned you.” “Unless you come in person to request aid, we will not respond.” The line cuts. In person? Through miles of Rogue-infested territory? It’s suicide. The gap in the door holds—barely. But we all know it won’t last. I steady Martha. “Mom, I’m coming with you.” I turn to face the blood pooling on the floor. My voice hardens. “Everyone’s counting on us. If we break through, there’s still a chance!” Martha looks at me for a long moment. Finally, she nods. Two hours later,I half-carry Martha through the darkness. Her left arm was torn off by a Rogue—fresh blood still streams from the wound. “Over this mountain… we’re almost there…” From halfway up the slope, we see the outline of Silverpine Base. Hope sparks in our chests. Then— A firework shell explodes directly in front of us. The blast wave throws us backward like ragdolls. Martha’s blood was splattered on my face.

I look up, dazed. Through the smoke, I see Kade with his arm around Lola. Then his voice booms through the ridge’s speaker system, dripping with mockery. “Selene, I knew it. You realized your lies wouldn’t make me cancel the party, so now you’re trying to force your way through?” His voice turns ice-cold. “I knew you’d try to sabotage Lola’s birthday. I won’t let you succeed!” The bombardment intensifies. “Mom, tell him it’s you!” I scream. Martha uses every ounce of strength to roar toward the peak: “KADE!” The ridge falls silent for a heartbeat. Then Kade’s laughter echoes—crueler, louder. We’re too far. He can only see a silhouette. “Selene, you’re really committed to this act! First you had my mom lie over the comm, now you hired an actress?” “My mother has two arms, but the actress has only one! Stop trying to fool me!” Martha trembles with rage. “I am your mother! Can’t you even recognize my voice?!” Kade hesitates. Lola immediately tugs his sleeve, her voice dripping false hurt. “Kade… I know Selene hates me. Maybe we should just cancel tonight. Go back.” “It’s okay. I’m used to being treated like this…” Kade’s face hardens. He pulls her close. “Continue!” More shells rain down. Our path is sealed. The moon rises higher. “There’s no time.” Martha grabs my shoulders. “I’ll distract them. You run. Get that rescue back here!” “Everyone’s counting on you!” She shoves me away and limps toward the peak. I try to grab her. “Mom, they don’t recognize you—you’ll die!” Kade’s voice cuts through the air again. “Selene, if you’re willing to throw your life away to ruin Lola’s party, I’ll grant your wish!” He hoists a rocket launcher onto his shoulder. Aims directly at me. The massive shell screams through the air. “SELENE, DOWN!” Martha throws herself on top of me. Her broken body shields mine. BOOM— The explosion tears through my eardrums. Hot blood sprays my face. Martha’s body collapses onto mine. Her back has been obliterated—a gaping hole where her spine should be. Blood pours like a river. My hands shake as I touch her. Warmth. Sticky warmth everywhere. I shake her gently. No response. I scream. “MOM!” Lola’s saccharine voice floats through the speakers. “Selene, you should throw that corpse off the cliff. The Rogues will smell the blood and come for you too.”

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I watched my eight-year-old son die on the execution platform. My mate Kael’s last words weren’t for us. They were for Seraphina—the Alpha King’s Luna Queen. “Your Majesty, please take care of Seraphina!” Then the silver chains tore me apart too. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day it all began. *** My mate—Alpha Kael and Luna Queen Seraphina were childhood sweethearts. This was a thorn in the Alpha King’s heart. Even after Kael mated me, the two remained as close as ever. When Seraphina was punished to kneel, Kael held an umbrella over her for a day and night. When Kael was injured, Seraphina knelt to dress his wounds herself. I knew the Alpha King’s rage could destroy entire packs. I warned him many times, but Kael thought I was petty and jealous. Every time he visited the palace, he’d lock me in the shed. Later, the Alpha King took a new mate and demoted Seraphina. Seraphina refused to eat or drink. She even requested to be sent to the outer pack. At the Council meeting, Kael publicly denounced the Alpha King for abandoning his first mate. The Alpha King was enraged. He ordered our entire pack executed. On the execution platform, I begged Kael to apologize to the King and save our pup’s life. Kael ignored me. He continued his defiance until death. “Your Majesty, my pack’s death means nothing!” “I only beg you treat Luna Queen Seraphina well!” “Seraphina is delicate, she’s cried since childhood. Please take care of her, Your Majesty! I die without regret!” I watched helplessly as my eight-year-old pup was ripped apart. Then I was torn apart too. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Seraphina was punished. …… “Elara, don’t stop me!” “Seraphina is being punished—the King must have misunderstood her!” “You know her personality. She’d rather die than defend herself.” “If I don’t help her, who will stand by her side?” Kael shoved me hard. I fell to the ground, my forehead hitting the stone steps. Blood everywhere. I was dazed for a moment, then realized—I’d been reborn. The Moon Goddess must have seen how unjustly I died and given me another chance. Before I could get up, Kael looked at me strangely. “Elara, even if you fake unconsciousness, I won’t stay.” “A little bump—what’s the big deal?” “Seraphina would never be so dramatic.” Thinking of Seraphina, Kael’s eyes softened. She was stubborn since childhood. Right now, suffering punishment, she must be gritting her teeth to hold back tears. His heart ached at the thought. He mounted his motorcycle. I scrambled up and blocked his path, blood covering my face, looking ghastly. “Kael, Seraphina is the Alpha King’s mate now! Their relationship is none of your business!” I glared at him. Looking at his face now, I felt no warmth from our early days. Only hatred. At the execution ground in my past life, I’d knelt to him. I’d even smashed my forehead bloody. Just begging him to submit to the Alpha King. The King was merciful. If Kael had just backed down, he would have spared our young pup. But Kael ignored me. He kept provoking the King’s authority. To him, our pup and I weren’t worth a single strand of Seraphina’s hair. I could never forget Ash’s screams and pain before death. This time, I would protect Ash. As for Kael—if he wanted death, I’d help him get there. “Kael, I know you and Seraphina were childhood sweethearts!” “After all these years, you still haven’t let her go?” “Seraphina is the country’s Luna Queen now!” “Your obsession with her—where does that leave the Alpha King?!” The moment I finished speaking, Kael’s face changed. Pack members watching nearby began whispering, pointing at Kael. “Elara, how dare you slander Seraphina?!” Kael’s eyes were bloodshot. His hand gripped the handlebars, veins bulging. I saw the murderous intent in his eyes. If we weren’t in front of so many witnesses, his wheels would have already crushed me into pulp. Ten years as mates. He’d never once truly seen me as his mate. The pain spread through my chest. Tears blurred my vision. Heartbreak and hatred intertwined. But I held back the tears and dropped to my knees in front of him. “If you must go, then drive over my corpse!”

“Mom!!” Ash ran out too, kneeling beside me, looking at Kael with tearful eyes. “Dad, don’t you love me and Mom anymore?” Ash’s small body curled into my arms. My nose stung. Tears I’d held back finally fell. Seeing Ash, Kael’s tense body relaxed slightly. The coldness in his eyes softened with reluctance. “Ash, Dad loves you and your mom, of course.” “But right now, Aunt Seraphina is in trouble. Dad has to help her.” Ash frowned in confusion, tears still on his face. “But Dad, doesn’t Aunt Seraphina have her own mate? Why does she need Mom’s mate to help her?” Kael’s face paled. The surrounding pack members echoed the sentiment. “Alpha Kael, you have a devoted mate and smart pup. What more could you want?” “The King is merciful and treats Luna Queen Seraphina well. This is probably just a small punishment. You don’t need to worry so much.” “What do you know?!” Kael suddenly exploded with rage, glaring at the well-meaning pack members. “What about Seraphina’s pain?!” I laughed coldly. All these years, Seraphina’s act of being gentle and yielding—only Kael believed it. Kael turned to look at me, his eyes full of disappointment. “Elara, I’ve been mated to you for ten years. Is this how you raised our pup?” “I’ll settle this with you when I return!” Before he finished speaking, Kael gunned the engine. The motorcycle roared and leaped directly over me and Ash’s heads. The wheels grazed my hair as they passed. For that instant, I truly thought I’d die under his wheels. Ash fainted from shock in my arms. “Kael!” I turned, screaming at him with a voice like torn flesh. “If you insist on this, then give me rejection papers! Let me and Ash go!” The engine noise faded into the distance. From start to finish, Kael never looked back once. I pulled at my cracked lips and laughed bitterly. The last thread of hope in my heart died with that engine sound. Only hatred remained. Kael, since you’re seeking death, this time, my pup and I won’t accompany you. Ash and I knelt there in misery. Rain poured down, washing away the blood on my forehead. I looked up at the foggy sky. Right now, Kael was probably holding an umbrella over Seraphina, shielding her from the storm. His umbrella had never once tilted toward me and our pup. I sighed softly. My handmaid Ember ran out with an umbrella, covering me from the rain. “Madam, you’re weak. Please take the young master inside!” “I’ll notify you the moment the Alpha returns!” I shook my head. I only handed Ash to Ember and had her take him back. I continued kneeling at the gate. After today, everyone in the territory would know—the Silver Moon Luna knelt in the rain all day to stop her mate from going to the palace. This time, I’d make Kael the target of everyone’s scorn! I don’t know how long passed. A sliver of light broke through the eastern sky. The rain gradually stopped. Kael’s figure appeared in my view. He glanced at me once. His tired face showed impatience slowly covered by guilt. He bent down, pulling my arm to help me up. “Elara, I was too impulsive today. I didn’t consider you and Ash.” “Don’t be angry, okay?” I pulled at my cracked lips. Looking at him, my eyes were calm as still water. I used my last bit of strength to say: “Kael, let’s reject the bond.”

When I opened my eyes again, Kael was beside me. Seeing me awake, joy flashed in his eyes. “Elara, you’re finally awake!” “Don’t be so willful again. Do you know you had a fever all day?” “I was worried sick!” He gripped my hand and brought over a bowl of medicine, gently feeding it to me. “You know Seraphina’s father saved my life.” “Before he died, he made me promise to take care of Seraphina.” “She’s alone in the palace, struggling at every turn. If I don’t help her, she’ll truly have no one.” “You’ve always been kind and understanding. Why are you so stubborn about this?” He frowned slightly, as if every word was sincere. If I hadn’t lived through this once, I might have believed him. “Seraphina asked me to thank you yesterday. She praised your generosity!” Kael said with a smile. But those words stabbed into my heart like a sharp needle. Could Kael really not hear that this was a challenge? I slowly closed my eyes, no longer listening to anything he said. After that, I stayed home to recover while secretly tallying my dowry and assets, transferring them out of the pack. A few days later, Kael was sent to the southern border to fight rogues. The house was quiet for over a month before Kael returned injured. At that time, I was having tea with several pack officials’ mates. The moment I heard the news, I brought everyone to his study to check on him. “Quickly, get the premium healing herbs from my vault!” “I hope he’s not badly hurt and everything is fine!” “Otherwise I don’t know how I’ll go on!” My expression was anxious, tears on my face. Reaching the study door, I took a deep breath and pushed it open. “Kael, are you alright?!” My voice stopped abruptly. In the study, on the couch, Kael wore only underclothes, half-reclining. Luna Seraphina, dressed in men’s clothes, knelt at the couch examining his leg wound, carefully applying medicine. Her eyes were red with distress. “Seraphina, it’s just a minor injury. Nothing serious.” Kael held Seraphina’s hand tenderly. The two gazed at each other deeply, as if no one else existed. All of this fell into my and the officials’ mates’ eyes. “The Luna Queen and a pack commander, so improperly dressed… What a scandal!” Seraphina looked mortified. Kael’s gaze cut toward us like a knife. “Get out!” I turned hurriedly and closed the study door. Tears streamed down my face. My lips trembled. “Sisters, today isn’t convenient. Please go home. I’ll visit to apologize another day.” Everyone consoled me briefly before leaving. After they left, the tears on my face vanished instantly. Everyone I’d invited today was a notorious gossip. And several had mates who worked in the Council—upright officials who spoke truth to power. Rumors on one side. Petitions on the other. Let’s see if Kael could withstand both attacks for Seraphina’s sake. Back in my room, I told Ember to fetch a silver blade. Ember looked terrified. “Don’t worry. I survived this far. I won’t die easily.” Ember brought the blade. I dismissed everyone and held it to my throat. Timing it carefully, I pressed the blade against my neck.

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Just before the New Year, I finally regained my sight after having been blinded in an accident. Overjoyed, I ran without thinking, eager to share the news with my boyfriend and my best friend. But on my way to find them, I paused in my tracks when I noticed several nurses in the lobby looking at a viral poll online. “My best friend lost her parents overnight and became blind.” “For her, I gave up my job abroad and returned home to care for her with her boyfriend for three years.” “But I’ve fallen helplessly in love with her boyfriend. Over these three years, we’ve cautiously shared every kind of intimacy.” “I know deep down this can’t go on—I can’t betray my best friend—so I must leave.” “If this post gets over 100,000 votes supporting my decision to leave, I’ll spend one last New Year with the one I love before flying abroad, never to return.” The moment I saw the poster’s profile picture, I froze—it was a photo I had taken of my best friend myself, before I lost my sight. And the number of votes urging her to stay surpassed those for leaving by a full 10,000. *** I strained my eyes, wishing I could pierce right through the nurse’s phone screen. The poll results were split into two camps—blue and red. Blue supported the poster in staying to pursue true love. Red supported her going abroad and leaving this twisted relationship behind. My breath grew shallow, my mind a muddled haze. In that moment, I almost wished I were still that little blind girl who couldn’t see a thing. I had waited three long years for fate to restore the sight I’d lost—a miracle that should have filled me with joy now left me chilled to the bone. Willow Barnes’s profile picture was a snapshot I’d taken of her back when we were eighteen, leaning against the classroom window. She had kissed me over and over, and used that photo as her profile picture everywhere. “Sweetie, this avatar you took for me—I’m going to use it till I’m eighty!” But now, wearing that same picture, she was breaking my heart in ways I couldn’t bear. Tears fell suddenly onto the phone screen. The nurses all looked my way, launching into an animated discussion. “You think their love triangle is just as messy and tragic, don’t you?” “If it were you, would you want the poster to be with her best friend’s boyfriend, or go abroad?” “We all think the guy should choose the poster. Who’d want to spend their whole life with a blind person? That kind of future would be unbearable. That’s why we voted blue.” My hands, hanging at my sides, trembled uncontrollably. It was true—I was blind, dependent, nothing but a burden to Drystan Ashton. So he had chosen to leave me for someone better. Even though my sight had returned, what right did I have to ask him to come back to me? I couldn’t be that selfish. Fighting back the ache in my nose, I forced a smile and told the nurses, “Yes, you’re right. A guy shouldn’t be tied down for life to a blind person.” “True love deserves to be celebrated—I vote blue too.” I would let them have their happiness. After stepping out of the lobby, I soon saw Willow and Drystan hurrying toward me. My gaze fixed on their tightly entwined figures. Three years had passed—Drystan’s shoulders looked broader, more capable of offering security. Willow was more beautiful than ever, radiant with happiness. The wind was bitter and cold. Drystan wrapped his coat around Willow, the two of them looking like a match made in heaven. As they drew near, Willow made to pull away from his embrace. But Drystan held her firmly, wearing a wounded expression as he leaned down to kiss the corner of her mouth. After a passionate response, Willow glared at him, breathless. It was a silent reminder: She’s right here. Be careful. Don’t slip up. If my sight hadn’t returned, I would never have known that all this time—the casual kisses, the embraces, and surely more—had been happening right in front of me, as if I weren’t even there. I pushed the sorrow down and smiled brightly, speaking first, “Drystan, Willow, is that you? You came to pick me up?”

Willow linked her arm with mine and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “We wouldn’t let you come alone. We were worried.” “My office was swamped today, and Drystan had a situation at the lab,” she explained. “I’m so sorry you had to handle the hospital check-up by yourself.” Drystan’s question was directed at me, but his gaze lingered softly on Willow. “What did the doctor say, Athena? Any progress with your eyes?” I squeezed the report in my hand before tucking it back into my coat. “No change. The doctor said… it might stay this way for years.” A flicker of something—relief?—passed through Drystan’s eyes, and it cut deeper than any blade. Deep down, he didn’t want my eyesight to recover. Of course. My blindness had been convenient for them. He reached out to stroke my hair, the gesture now feeling rehearsed. “Don’t worry, Athena. Willow and I are here. We’re not going anywhere.” “A day, a year, a decade—we’ll wait. We’ll always be with you.” Once, those words would have shattered me with gratitude. Now, I watched the man who had just kissed my best friend tenderly vow his constancy to me, and felt only a hollow, sickening cold. Willow’s fingers brushed my cheek, her concern instant and sharp. “Athena, you’re crying. What’s wrong?” “Did someone say something to you at the hospital? Point them out. I’ll handle it.” Her protectiveness was so real, so fierce, it made the ache in my chest tighten. I shook my head, forcing a smile. “Just the wind. It’s nothing. Really.” She shrugged off her jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. “It’s freezing. Wear this. Come on, let’s get what we need for dinner.” The fabric held no warmth. Drystan frowned, immediately shedding his own coat and draping it over Willow’s shoulders with practiced ease. She lifted her arms to accommodate him—a small, intimate dance they’d clearly perfected while I lived in the dark. Three days until New Year’s Eve. The supermarket was bustling. Willow kept my arm tucked in hers, her voice bright with plans for our eighteenth holiday together. “Make sure to pick up extra button mushrooms—they’re Athena’s absolute favorite.” “Drystan, did you remember the chicken thighs? I’m going to make her honey garlic chicken tonight!” He smiled at her, a look of pure fondness. “Already in the cart. She’s my girlfriend. I know what she likes.” The chill in my veins deepened. I had seen the cart before Willow spoke. It was already full—with Willow’s preferred cuts of meat, her favorite drinks and snacks. Her needs came first now. The man I’d loved for ten years was gone, his heart and attention wholly elsewhere. They chatted on, oblivious, mapping out the feast. Then, a wobble from a high shelf. Boxes teetered. Before my mind could process the danger, Drystan moved. As my hand instinctively reached for him, he was already there—but not for me. He wrapped his arms around Willow and pulled her to safety. “Willow, watch out!” My hand closed on empty air. The world tilted. A crushing weight slammed into my shoulder, and my head struck the sharp metal edge of the shelf. Pain, white and hot, erupted. Then, the warm, coppery trickle of blood down my temple, blurring the vision in one eye. Across the aisle, Drystan was cupping Willow’s face, his voice urgent. “Are you hurt? Did anything hit you?” Willow, breathless with shock, leaned into him. “I’m okay. You got me out just in time.” They had forgotten me. It was a store employee who helped me up, her voice alarmed. “Miss, your head—you’re bleeding badly. You need to go to the emergency room.” Only then did their heads turn. “Athena!” They rushed over, a united front of concern. “Why didn’t you move?” “Don’t be scared, we’ll take you to the hospital.” I shook my head, the movement making the world swim. “No hospital. Just… a clinic. Please. I don’t want to go back there.” I couldn’t let them find out. Not now. Reluctantly, they agreed. After a hurried trip to a local clinic for stitches and a bandage, they took me home. Now, I was not just the blind girl, but the scarred one too. A perfect picture of pitiful ruin.

The moment I stepped inside, a sharp pang pierced my chest. Beyond the ubiquitous corner guards and safety padding, the entire apartment was saturated with Willow’s presence. This was the tiny nest Drystan and I had scraped together to buy after graduation. But during my years of blindness, the walls had become a gallery of their intimate photographs. The balcony overflowed with hydrangeas—her favorite flower. All my own plants and flowers had long since withered and died. This wasn’t my home anymore. It felt more like I had stumbled into Drystan and Willow’s love nest. Drystan took my hand and led me to the sofa. “Athena, I couldn’t push you out of the way in time earlier, and you got hurt. Are you angry with me?” “I’m sorry. I failed to protect you.” I feigned a vacant stare ahead. “It’s okay, Drystan. I don’t blame you. The boxes weren’t secured properly.” He bent down and kissed the back of my hand, his relief palpable. “Good. Just sit tight. I’ll make us dinner.” I smiled and nodded. He and Willow went into the kitchen together. Their banter was playful, flirtatious, as they prepped the ingredients. Quietly, I pulled out my seldom-used phone and found Willow’s post. Right now, the votes supporting her staying with Drystan had reached 100,000. The likes supporting her going abroad stood at 90,000. I finished reading in silence, then booked a one-way ticket out of Riveraee. Only after switching off my phone did I notice the heated exchange coming from the kitchen. Drystan, sounding frantic, was pulling Willow toward the bedroom. Battling the turmoil inside, I quietly followed. Through the crack in the door, I saw Drystan shove his phone in front of Willow’s face. His voice trembled. “Willow, what is this post? You’re planning to leave me? Go abroad?” He had discovered her exit strategy. Willow’s eyes instantly welled up. She buried her face in her hands, sinking to the floor with a sob. “Athena’s eyes will recover eventually. How am I supposed to face her? How can I shamelessly tell her I’ve fallen in love with you?” “Drystan, you are Athena’s boyfriend. I’m just… the best friend who betrayed her, a secret she can’t ever know about.” “I can’t face her. Running away is my only choice. Please, don’t push me.” Drystan slowly knelt before her, gathering her into his arms. With a reverence that was tender, he kissed the tears from her cheeks. “Willow, don’t go. We’re in love. How can we just walk away?” “The doctor said it could be years before Athena’s sight returns. She’ll never know.” “And look—100,000 people online support us, support our love. Are you just going to ignore that?” The warmth drained from my fingertips. Maybe if I were still that blind girl, I could have lived in ignorance forever. I wouldn’t have had to lose my boyfriend and my best friend at the same time. But here I was, forced to watch them kiss, comfort each other, and plan a future—right in front of me. Willow clutched at Drystan’s shoulders, her voice choked with anguish. “Drystan, my conscience is eating me alive every second. Let fate decide. If, after the New Year, the votes for me leaving break 100,000… then I’m going. No matter what. Let me go. You belong to Athena, not to me.” Agony etched across Drystan’s face. He held her tighter, his own voice breaking. “Alright. I want you to be happy… even if the price is losing you.” The taste of salt filled my mouth. I covered it with my hand, turned, and silently walked away.

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On our wedding anniversary, my wife finally put work aside. She agreed to go on a trip with me. Right before we boarded, she got a text. Her father was sick. “Honey, I’m so sorry. Dad’s not feeling well. I need to check on him. I can’t go with you this time.” I was disappointed. But her father’s health came first. I agreed. After she left, I tore up the ticket. I decided to go home. I wanted to see what was wrong with my father-in-law. The one who died three months ago. — I followed her all the way to our house. I didn’t rush to get out. I opened my phone instead. The housekeeper’s son was showing off on Instagram. “Your generous love is the best 21st birthday gift I could ask for!” The photo showed him in a white suit. His arms were around a woman. That woman was my devoted wife. I cracked my knuckles and got out. At the entrance, I saw a dozen people in the huge living room. Balloons hung on the walls. A group was chanting: “Kiss! Kiss!” “Come on—kiss her!” … My wife Evelyn hooked her arms around Zack Williams’ neck. She gave him a deep French kiss. The crowd erupted. When the kiss ended, Evelyn ran her fingers across Zack’s lips. She looked up. She saw me at the front of the crowd. Her eyes went wide. She tried to push away the person in her arms. I was faster. I raised my hand. I slapped her twice across the face. Everyone went silent. Zack turned around. He saw me. His face went white. He grabbed Evelyn’s arm. He hid behind her. I looked at her with a mocking smile. “I didn’t know you got yourself a new daddy.” Evelyn’s eyes darted around. She tried to explain. Then a guy with bleached hair shoved me. “Who the hell are you? Breaking into someone’s house and hitting people? Are you insane? Apologize to Zack and his girlfriend right now, or this isn’t over!” The others chimed in: “Just assaulting people like that. Is there no law anymore? An apology isn’t enough. We should call the cops.” “I agree. The police should check if he has a record. If he can hit people now, who knows what he’ll do next?” “This birthday party was going great. Then this psycho shows up and starts attacking people. Do you even know who you just hit?” I smiled at them. I turned to look at Evelyn. “You think I shouldn’t have hit you either?” Evelyn licked her lips. She was about to speak. Zack tugged her sleeve. He shook his head. I saw their little exchange. I wanted to see what they’d pull. Evelyn glared at me. “Ethan Carter, what the hell is your problem? Today is Zack’s birthday. If you have something to say, say it later. Don’t make a scene here. Don’t ruin Zack’s day. Get out!” She was afraid her boy toy would lose face in front of his friends. I laughed coldly. I stared at her. “Evelyn, where exactly do you want me to go? Or is there something you two are hiding? Something you don’t want people to know?” Zack grabbed Evelyn’s hand. He made his claim: “Ethan, I know you’ve had a crush on Evelyn for a while. Seeing us together probably hurts. But love is mutual. Evelyn loves me. We’ve been together for two years. She said once I graduate, we’ll get married. Please stop bothering her.” Evelyn didn’t expect him to say that. Her expression changed. She snuck a glance at me. Zack’s words stunned me. Today was our two-year wedding anniversary. They’d been together for two years. She’d been cheating even before we got married. She’d brought Zack and his father into our house. Under the guise of hiring a housekeeper. They’d been lying to me for two whole years. The bleached-hair guy spoke up again. “I get it now. You’re the male housekeeper at Zack’s place. The one with a crush on his girlfriend. I can’t believe you’re so shameless. Trying to steal someone’s girl in public.” I’d somehow been labeled as the male housekeeper. I actually laughed. “Zack, are you still dreaming? What makes you think I’d work as your housekeeper?”

Before I finished, someone threw a drink in my face. The bleached-hair guy held his cup smugly. “I think you’re the one who needs to wake up. We all know who Zack is. His dad runs a big business. His girlfriend owns a company. This whole mansion is his. As for you? Look at what you’re wearing. Cheap knockoffs. No brand name. You’re only good enough to sweep floors and serve people.” Cheap knockoffs? My clothes had no brand. They were custom-made by master tailors. Other girls spoke up for Zack. “Exactly. You should apologize to Zack right now. Or you’ll lose even this job.” One girl spoke up in a flirty tone: “Dude, look at how old you are. Fighting with Zack over a woman. If you’re that desperate, I can help you out. I’ve never tried a guy in his thirties. Is two hundred bucks for the night enough?” He changed his tone. He looked at Evelyn gently. “Evelyn, I may be young. But I know how to protect my woman. I’ll give you respect in public. Unlike Ethan…” His double meaning appealed to her vanity. I laughed coldly. “Good thing you reminded me. I only slapped her. I forgot to beat you up!” I grabbed his collar. I punched him twice. Hard. In his pale face. Zack covered his bleeding face. He screamed. “Ethan Carter, you dare hit me? I won’t let you get away with this!” “Keep barking.” I raised my hand to hit him again. Evelyn grabbed my waist. She shoved me hard. I lost my balance. I knocked over a champagne tower. I fell to the ground. Glass cut my hands. Evelyn didn’t even look at me. She pulled Zack behind her. She scolded me: “Ethan Carter, apologize to Zack!” I looked at my bleeding palm. I gritted my teeth against the pain. I pulled out the glass shards. One by one. Two years of marriage. Like the glass in my hand, it stabbed me. Zack looked out from behind her. He smirked at me. The pain in my palm made my voice colder: “Evelyn, you’re in my house. Throwing a birthday party for your side piece. Cheating on me right in front of me. And now you want me to apologize to him? Are you crazy? Or do you think I’m a pushover? Don’t forget. I can dress you a Billionaire. And I can make you a homeless!”

My words made Evelyn’s eyes flicker. But Zack spoke first. “Ethan, Evelyn built her company through her own hard work. Through her brilliance. She achieved financial freedom through her abilities. Don’t act like you did her some huge favor.” I froze. Brilliance? Abilities? She couldn’t even understand the simplest business plan. How was that brilliance? Financial freedom? All the money she needed to run the company came from my account. I didn’t bother explaining to him. I looked at Evelyn mockingly. “Zack is still so young. You’re taking advantage of a kid. Aren’t you ashamed?” Evelyn raised her chin. “Ethan Carter, Zack is an adult. I didn’t force him. You’re the one who’s shameless. All you know how to do is leech off your wife!” Her words made Zack’s friends look at me with even more disdain. Zack put his arm around Evelyn. He looked at me arrogantly. “Ethan, I know you’re not convinced. If you want this house, let’s do it your way. Evelyn is a successful career woman. She won’t stoop to fighting with you. But I’m a man. I can’t let you bully my woman. Let’s make a bet. Whoever has more assets loses. Dare to take it?” “What are we betting?” “If you lose, you have to kneel. Apologize to Evelyn. If I lose, you can name your terms.” The crowd roared with laughter. “Zack, you’re the best. We’ll be your witnesses. Don’t let this guy weasel out!” “Yeah, a housekeeper competing with Zack? The outcome is already decided!” I nodded. “Fine. Let’s see what you’ve got.” Zack pulled out several property deeds. “These are houses in Manhattan. Worth over fifty million dollars. Plus various cars. About ten million. Let’s see what you have.” The crowd exploded with admiration. “Oh my God, Zack, you’re amazing!” “I heard your dad ran a company. I didn’t expect him to be this rich!” I smiled. “Think I don’t have that much?” I took out my phone. I made a call. “Come to 105 Willow Drive. Bring the property deeds and car titles.” While we waited, Zack held Evelyn. They got cozy on the sofa. Evelyn kept glancing at me nervously. She knew better than anyone what I had. I looked at her coldly. I sneered. A few minutes later, someone knocked. When my assistant walked in with several file bags, everyone held their breath. I showed the contents to Evelyn. Looking at the endless property deeds, her lips turned pale. Her voice trembled. “Ethan Carter, don’t forget. These are all marital property. Half of this is mine.” “Half is yours? Evelyn, you think too highly of yourself. Every penny of mine was earned by myself. Not a single cent came from you. Besides, I’ve never thought about using your money. But what about you? You didn’t even hesitate to use mine.” Evelyn said nothing. She sat on the sofa. Her face pale. I threw the materials at Zack’s feet. “Look at it yourself.” Zack opened it. He saw my total assets. Three billion dollars. His eyes went wide. His friends’ jaws dropped. Then Zack went crazy. “This is impossible! Evelyn, tell me this is fake!” Evelyn lowered her eyes. “It’s real. I’ve seen these things before.” Zack turned to look at me. Shocked. “You have so much money. Why did you let me humiliate you before?” I sneered. “I wanted to see if my wife still had any conscience left. Turns out I was overthinking it.” Zack dropped to his knees. “Mr. Carter, I was wrong. Please forgive me this once. I’ll never do it again.” I was about to respond. Evelyn suddenly spoke up: “Ethan Carter, Zack was forced into this. By you. He didn’t know you were so rich. He thought you were just a housekeeper. You can’t blame him for this.” She was still protecting him? I got angry. “Evelyn, I’m your husband!” “I know.” “You know and you’re still protecting him?” Evelyn sneered. “Ethan Carter, we’ve been married two years. You’ve never had time for me. Don’t you think you bear some responsibility?” I was speechless. It was true. I didn’t have time for her. But I was busy making money. For her. I wanted to give her the best. I didn’t want her to struggle. Like she did when we were poor. But in her eyes, this became a reason to cheat. I didn’t want to listen anymore. I turned and left. Behind me came Evelyn’s cold voice. “Ethan Carter, I want a divorce!”

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I spent ten years chasing the woman who would burn me alive. My wife. All because she was afraid I’d expose what she’d done with my halfbrother. As the flames consumed me, I saw a stranger rush into the fire. She pulled me into her arms. Her tears burned hotter than the flames on my skin. “Ethan,” she sobbed. “If there’s a next life… can you choose me first?” My soul scattered. But I saw her before I died. This woman—Serena Vance. She built me a gravestone. *”My Beloved Husband.”* She destroyed Rose and Julian without mercy. Then she took her own life. When I opened my eyes again, I’d been reborn. I broke off my engagement to Rose Miller. I married Serena instead. Two years later, Rose was on her knees in front of me. She’d been reborn too, apparently. But I’d already sworn to love Serena in this life. So why was everything falling apart? Serena started going to clubs with Julian. My stomach ulcer flared up. I collapsed at home, alone. She was having dinner with my brother. When Julian ran over the stray dog we’d adopted together, she did nothing. I held the small body in my arms, shaking. “Why?” My voice cracked. “Why are you doing this to me?” Serena looked at me like I was pathetic. “Do I need a reason to stop loving someone?”

I told Mrs. Vance I wanted a divorce. “Please don’t tell Serena yet,” I begged. She squeezed my hand. “I’m so sorry, Ethan.” I took the divorce papers and went to find Serena myself. I found her at a private club. Through the VIP booth window, I saw her wrapped around Julian. Her chin rested in the curve of his neck. He whispered something. She smiled. I knocked. Serena’s eyes flicked up. Annoyed. “Who let you in?” I held out the papers. My arm stayed frozen in the air. Five seconds. Ten. My shoulder started to ache. Finally, she pinched Julian’s waist. “Take it.” Julian leaned into her like a cat, flipping through the papers lazily. His eyes widened. “What’s this?” Serena frowned. “What?” “Nothing.” Julian’s smile stretched wide. He turned to the signature page. “Serena… I think Ethan brought you some company documents. You should sign them so he can leave.” My blood went cold. But Serena barely glanced at the papers. “You sign,” she said. “I’m giving you full authority.” I watched Julian scrawl Serena’s name across the divorce agreement. “Wait,” I said. “Serena, don’t you want to read—” She laughed. “He speaks for me. What, afraid I’ll go back on my word in front of all these people?” Something inside me cracked. She used to check every document I gave her. Every single one. Now she trusted Julian more than me. Julian handed me the signed papers. I turned to leave. A hand grabbed my arm. Serena pulled me back. “Hold on.” “What?” She smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “Come home with us. I’m pregnant. Julian’s moving in to help me through it.” My vision blurred. “And Ethan?” Her voice was sweet as poison. “Make him that chicken soup he likes so much.” Pregnant. Serena was pregnant with Julian’s child. Bile rose in my throat. “I won’t do it.” Julian tugged her sleeve. “It’s okay, Serena. Don’t force him.” “Shut up.” Serena’s voice turned to ice. “You’ll do what I tell you to do. Now let’s go.” She didn’t wait for an answer. She dragged me back to the villa.

The car pulled up to the villa. Serena dragged me straight to the kitchen. She watched me take out the chicken and vegetables. Fill the pot with water. Only when the flame was lit did she finally leave. I stared at the bubbling broth. This was pathetic. “My dear brother.You must be so disappointed. Serena didn’t even look at those divorce papers, right?” Julian’s voice came from behind me, , full of mockery. “The woman who used to love you so much… now her heart belongs completely to me. That’s just how women are, I guess.” He laughed. “But wow, you’re so obedient. You were about to leave, but she told you to make soup and here you are. You’re such a good little dog.” “Are you done?” My voice was flat. Julian’s smile vanished. His eyes landed on the pot of boiling soup. Before I could react, he grabbed the handle and swung it at me. The scalding liquid hit my face, my chest, my arms. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream. My skin blistered instantly. Then Julian started screaming instead. “Help! HELP!” The door burst open. Serena ran in. For just a second, when she saw me, something flickered in her eyes. Concern? “Serena!” Julian sobbed, clutching his hand. “I tried to help Ethan carry the soup, but he tried to throw it on me!” The pain was unbearable. I curled into myself, shaking. “You’re lying,” I gasped. “Check the security camera. Check it!” Serena looked at Julian. Doubt crossed her face. “The camera will show everything,” I said desperately. “ENOUGH!” Serena snapped. “I believe Julian. You tried to hurt him and burned yourself instead. You deserve this.” Julian held up his finger. A tiny blister. “Serena, it hurts.” “Let’s get you to the hospital.” She didn’t look at me again. A dull ache spread through my chest. I shook my head with a bitter smile. What an idiot I was, thinking she might actually care about me. Her heart only had room for Julian. I couldn’t hold on anymore. Darkness swallowed me. “Ethan!” As I fell, I thought I heard Serena running toward me. Thought I heard panic in her voice. But I was probably imagining it. When I woke up, I was in a hospital room. My blood was draining into Julian’s arm. I tried to pull out the IV. Serena grabbed my wrist. “Don’t even think about it,” she hissed. “You’re giving Julian your blood whether you like it or not. This is your fault. He fell because of you.” Her eyes were cold. “You should be grateful your worthless blood can save him.” The room spun. My burns screamed. The needle in my arm kept sucking me dry. I passed out again. Before I lost consciousness, I heard Serena’s angry voice. “I told you to take 20ml to scare him. Not 2000ml, you idiots. Do you want to kill him?” When I woke up again, Serena was sitting by my bed. She tapped her fingers on the table. Her eyes were ice. “Stop pretending to be dead. We’re going to the old manor this afternoon.” “I don’t know what kind of spell you put on my mother, but she’s throwing you a networking party. How manipulative.” I tried to speak. But my throat was too dry. So I was right. That worried voice I heard was nothing but my imagination. Why would Serena ever care? I was a fool to hope for even a second.

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The hospital billing office closed in ten minutes. I needed $10,000. I had $9,847.23. One hundred and fifty-two dollars and seventy-seven cents short. My son was in the ICU. Eighteen years old. Appendicitis that turned septic because we waited too long. Because I’d been trying to “budget responsibly.” I’d called everyone. My sister. My college roommate. The church. Anyone who might lend me two hundred dollars. Everyone said the same thing: “But Maya, your husband’s a Colonel. Surely he can—” Colonel Marcus Thorne. Decorated military officer. Six-figure salary. Benefits out the ass. And he told me, for the third time this week, that he couldn’t help. “I’m supporting someone, Maya. You know this. I have obligations.” Obligations. To Vivienne Park. The widow of his fallen comrade. I’d been hearing about Vivienne Park for eighteen years. She’s fragile. She needs help. Her husband died serving our country. And I’d believed him. I’d been the good military wife. Stretched every dollar. Worked three jobs while he was deployed. Raised our son alone. My mother—my beautiful, selfless mother—had been staying with us to help with Dylan while he recovered. When I told her I was $153 short, she didn’t say anything. She just left. Came back two hours later, shivering. January in Colorado. Seventeen degrees. She pressed two hundred-dollar bills into my hand. “Where did you—” “Pawn shop,” she said. Her lips were blue. “Sold my winter coat. The good one you bought me for Christmas.” “Mom, no—” “Dylan needs you. Go pay the bill.” I paid the bill. I brought Dylan home. I found my mother three hours later. Collapsed in the guest room. Hypothermia. She’d been too cold to call for help. By the time the ambulance arrived, she was gone. — I buried my mother on a Tuesday. Marcus didn’t come to the funeral. He was “busy.” Dylan came. Stood next to me. Silent. After, I went home to our base housing unit—the small, outdated one Marcus insisted we live in because “we need to save money.” I was looking for the insurance papers Mom had mentioned. Found them in Marcus’s desk drawer. Along with something else. FedEx receipts. Dozens of them. All addressed to the same person: Vivienne Park. New York, NY. I pulled them out. Read them. La Mer face cream – $350 Chanel No. 5 – $180 Cartier Love Bracelet – $6,500 Hermès Birkin Bag – $12,000 My hands shook. There was more. A jewelry box. Hidden under the insurance folder. Inside: A Rolex. Women’s. Rose gold. Still in the box. $25,000. Twenty-five thousand dollars. The same amount we needed for Dylan’s surgery. The amount Marcus said we didn’t have. I found a photo. Tucked into the jewelry box. Vivienne. Standing in Times Square. Designer coat. Perfectly styled hair. Skin glowing like she’d just come from a spa. On the back, in Marcus’s handwriting: My beautiful girl. Worth every penny. I confronted him that night. Walked into the living room where he sat watching ESPN. Threw the receipts on the coffee table. “What the hell is this?” Marcus glanced at the papers. Didn’t even flinch. “Vivienne needed those things.” “Needed? She needed a Birkin bag?” Dylan appeared in the doorway. “Mom, calm down. You’re being dramatic.” “Dramatic?” I turned to him. “Your grandmother is dead. She froze to death because your father wouldn’t give us $153. And he’s spending thousands on—” “On someone who deserves it,” Dylan interrupted. “Dad’s helping Vivienne. She’s educated. Cultured. She has a PhD from Columbia, Mom. She’s not like—” He stopped. “Not like what?” “Not like you,” he said quietly. “You didn’t even finish college.” The room tilted. “I didn’t finish because I was pregnant with you,” I said. “I dropped out to raise you while your father was deployed.” Marcus stood. Walked over. Patted my shoulder like I was a child. “Maya. Vivienne has needs. She’s building a career. She can’t do that without support.” “And I don’t have needs?” “You’re a housewife. What do you need besides groceries?” I stared at him. This was the man I’d married at nineteen. The man who’d promised to build a life with me. “I want a divorce,” I said. Marcus laughed. Actually laughed. “You can’t afford a divorce, sweetheart. What are you going to do? You have no degree. No work history. No savings.” He pulled out his wallet. Tossed three twenties on the table. “Here. Buy yourself something nice. Calm down.” Dylan nodded. “Mom, just drop it. Dad’s doing a good thing.” I looked at the money on the table. Sixty dollars. The same amount Marcus had given me eighteen years ago when Dylan was born and I hemorrhaged so badly I nearly died. The doctor had offered me an epidural. $1,200. Marcus said no. “We’re saving for Vivienne’s grad school applications.” I’d given birth without pain medication. Screaming. While my husband sat in the waiting room, texting another woman. I picked up the sixty dollars. “Keep it,” I said. “I’m done.”

I didn’t leave that night. I went upstairs. Locked myself in the guest room. And I cried. Not because I was sad. Because I was angry. Eighteen years. I’d given this man eighteen years. I’d been twenty when we got married. Brilliant. Top of my class. Full-ride scholarship to Yale. I was going to be a surgeon. Then I met Marcus. He was charming. Kind. He’d just enlisted. He promised me the world. “Marry me,” he’d said. “I’ll take care of you. You can still go to medical school. We’ll make it work.” I believed him. We got married. I deferred Yale for a year. Then I got pregnant. “Just one more year,” Marcus said. “Then you can go back.” But one year turned into two. Then five. Then eighteen. And now I was forty. No degree. No career. Nothing but a dead mother and a son who thought I was worthless. I sat there, staring at the ceiling, when I heard voices downstairs. Marcus and Dylan. “—can’t believe she’s making such a big deal out of this,” Dylan was saying. “Your mother’s always been dramatic.” “I mean, Vivienne’s amazing. She’s got a PhD. She’s published papers. She’s doing actual work in the world.” “Exactly. Unlike your mother.” I went cold. “I just don’t get why Mom’s so jealous,” Dylan continued. “It’s not like she could ever measure up to someone like Vivienne.” Marcus was quiet for a moment. Then: “You know your mother was supposed to go to Yale, right?” Silence. “What?” “Yale. Medical school. She had a full scholarship. Top student in her class.” My breath caught. “Wait, what? Mom? But she—” “She was brilliant,” Marcus said. His voice was almost… wistful. “Beautiful and brilliant. Everyone wanted her.” “So what happened?” Another pause. “I happened,” Marcus said. “I knew she’d leave me if she went to Yale. So I made sure she didn’t.” “How?” “Her acceptance letter came while she was visiting her sick grandmother in Oregon. I intercepted it. Told her she didn’t get in.” No—— How is that possible! “Then what?” “I gave it to Vivienne.” The room spun. “You what?” “Vivienne’s husband had just died. She was devastated. No education. No prospects. I felt bad for her.” Marcus’s voice was calm and rational. It was just a seemingly ordinary thing, but it changed my life. “Maya applied to Yale on her own—she’s smart enough to get in, no question. I got hold of her application draft, her test scores, all of it. Filed a new one under Vivienne’s name, used her ID, her SSN. Yale never knew the difference. They sent the acceptance letter straight to Vivienne.” “Holy shit. You faked her entire application?” “She’s fragile, you know? She couldn’t survive without this. But Maya—Maya’s strong. She didn’t need Yale’s fancy degree. She had me.” I couldn’t breathe. All this time. All this fucking time. “Vivienne doesn’t know, does she?” Dylan asked. “Of course not. She thinks she earned it.” “And you’ve been… supporting her? This whole time?” “Eighteen years,” Marcus confirmed. “Paid her tuition. Her rent. Everything.” “Does she know about Mom?” “She knows I’m married. She doesn’t care. We have an… understanding.” I waited for Dylan to defend me. To be horrified. Instead, he laughed. “Damn, Dad. That’s cold.” “Your mother would’ve wasted that scholarship anyway. She’s not like Vivienne. Vivienne actually uses her education.” “True. Mom’s just… I don’t know. A housewife.” “Exactly.” I stood up. Walked downstairs. Both of them looked up as I entered. “Maya—” Marcus started. “I’m filing for divorce,” I said. “And I’m reporting you for fraud.” Marcus’s face went white. “You can’t—” “Watch me.”

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Twenty-three years ago, a nurse on the maternity ward switched the wristbands on two newborn babies. Two families. Two scrambled lives. Two years ago, the truth caught up with mine. My fiancé’s little sister? She’s actually my little sister. Same blood. Same parents. The hospital ran the DNA three times to be sure. I thought it was a gift. Now we’re really family. Now nothing can come between us. Then, the night before our wedding, Sean sits me down at my kitchen table and asks — calm as anything — if he can marry her instead. “She’s been miserable since she got sent back to your parents,” he says, like it’s a business proposal. “She was raised soft. She can’t take it over there.” “Let me marry her first. On paper. Take care of her under my name. That way Chloe — the real Sutton daughter — won’t feel threatened.” I freeze by the counter. My hand drifts to my stomach without me noticing. He keeps going. “You’re different, Ally. You’re tough. You’re smart. You can take it. You always do.” “Give it two years. Once she’s settled, we’ll have our wedding. The real one.” He thinks I’ll scream. He thinks I’ll cry, throw the ring, slam a door — and then cave. Because that’s what I always do. Bend. Fold. Swallow it. I look him dead in the eye and smile. “Sure thing, Sean.” He blinks. The whole speech he had ready — be reasonable, baby, think of the big picture — dies in his throat. “Wait. You mean it? Because if you don’t, just say so. This calm thing? Honestly, it’s freaking me out.” Freaking him out. That’s rich. What’s he so worried about? When have I ever actually fought him? Every single time, he steps forward and I step back. Back, and back, and back, until there’s a wall behind me and I nod and say fine. I slide my hand off my stomach. Quietly. Like a thief. “I mean it. Promise.” “Wedding goes ahead tomorrow. Just swap the bride. Don’t change anything else.” He looks confused, but he doesn’t push. He doesn’t want me to take it back. He reaches out and ruffles my hair like I’m a golden retriever who finally learned to sit. “Knew you’d get it. You always do.” “Willa used to be my sister. Now she’s yours. Same family, right?” “That brat Chloe’s been making her life hell — screaming that Willa stole twenty-three years of her life, demanding she get out of the Sutton house.” He sighs, the picture of a long-suffering man. “Day after tomorrow, courthouse. Just you and me. Quietly. Like we planned.” “And the wedding — once Willa’s settled, I’ll throw you the biggest one this city’s ever seen. I promise.” “Got it.” I cut him off. “Go home. You’re the groom tomorrow. Get some sleep.” I turn my back on him. Pick up the crumpled invitation off the counter — Sean Sutton & Allison Carter, gold lettering — and drop it in the trash. He stares at me. Two long seconds. Whatever he’s looking for — tears, rage, a flicker of please don’t — he doesn’t find it. So he leaves. Relieved. Like a man who got away with something. The door clicks shut. I pull out my phone. Confirmation: Your courthouse appointment #4471-A has been cancelled. Then I open my email. The offer from across the Atlantic. I’ve been staring at it for three weeks. I read it one more time. I type two words back. I accept.

Three a.m. Something in the living room wakes me up. I crack the bedroom door open an inch. Willa is curled up on the couch in one of Sean’s white dress shirts, bare legs tucked under her, sipping a glass of warm milk. Sean is crouched on the floor in front of her, rubbing her foot. “Princess. How many times do I have to tell you. Don’t walk barefoot on the tile.” “You call me at midnight saying your foot hurts, I tear across town like a maniac — you remember we have a big day tomorrow, right?” Willa giggles and snuggles deeper into the cushions. “Awww. Tomorrow I get to call you husband. I’m allowed to be a little nervous.” Sean flicks her forehead. “Call me whatever you want. Go to sleep. I have to head back and get ready.” She tilts her head. Blinks up at him. “You came all this way. Aren’t you gonna check on my sister?” “She threw up in the bathroom for an hour today. She’s not okay with this, Sean.” His step falters. “She’s fine,” he says flatly. “She’s not as soft as you. She’ll throw up, she’ll get over it.” “And she’s running point on the whole wedding tomorrow. She knows the venue better than anyone. Let her sleep.” He reaches over and tweaks Willa’s nose. “You. Stop worrying about other people. You’re the bride tomorrow. Bed. Now.” Willa laughs and swats his hand. “Okay, okay. Go, go.” I stand behind the door. Watching them. And all I feel is sad. And ridiculous. Six months ago, Sean and I had just gotten engaged. My parents weren’t happy with the wedding fund he’d offered. They wanted more. They told me to go squeeze Sean for it. I said no. I screamed at my dad in the kitchen. He took off his belt and beat me with it. Beat me until I couldn’t stand up. That night was late too. Just like this one. I couldn’t take the pain. I called Sean. He listened. Then he said, “You know how your folks are, baby. They want money, I’ll send it. Just don’t fight them. I’ll come get you tomorrow.” Tomorrow. I lay on the bathroom floor in my own blood until sunrise. He never came. Because I was never the one he’d tear across town for at three in the morning. I’m about to slip back to bed when Willa’s voice rises again. “Oh — and we have to thank my sister for putting this whole wedding together! Isn’t she a saint?” I freeze. “She picked champagne gold as the main color. But you talked her into blush pink for me. Sean — it’s literally my dream wedding.” Sean’s voice goes soft. “As long as you love it.” My chest twists. Hard. Right where I thought it had finally stopped hurting. For three months I ran around this city. Every wedding planner. Every florist. Every venue. I did it all. Then one night Sean said, casual, “Pink would suit a wedding better, don’t you think?” I stayed up till dawn redoing the whole color scheme. I thought he was just being sweet. I thought I was making my groom happy. Turns out — The whole wedding was someone else’s show. And I’m not the bride. I’m not even a guest. I’m staff. Tomorrow’s job: greet the guests, manage the timeline, keep everything running. Smile. Don’t make a scene. I walk back to bed. Numb. Lie down. Willa’s laughter drifts through the wall. Muffled. Soft. I can’t get it out of my head.

The sun is barely up when I get to the hotel. My job today: keep this whole circus running. Greet the guests. Cue the music. Smile. I’m the “ex-bride.” Already forgotten. The bridal suite is on the fourth floor. Willa’s in there with her bridesmaids — champagne, hairspray, a photographer crouched in the corner snapping every giggle. Sean is two floors down with the groomsmen, getting his bowtie fixed. They won’t lay eyes on each other until she walks down the aisle. Standard Western wedding. Tradition. Bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony. I stand in the hallway with my clipboard, going over the timeline. The double doors of the groom’s suite swing open. Sean steps out first. The groomsmen tumble out behind him, fixing each other’s pocket squares, half-drunk on mimosas already. They head for the elevator. They don’t see me tucked behind the floral display by the wall. Their voices carry. “I thought I was hammered last night and heard it wrong. They actually swapped the bride?” “You didn’t know? The invitations were printed in two names from the start. One set for Ally, one for Willa. Sutton had them ready months ago.” “Damn. I thought Ally would lose it. Girl from nothing finally lands a Sutton — then hands him over to her own sister? Forget ever marrying into that family now.” “Nah, she’s classy. That’s why she lasted with the boss this long.” “Classy my ass. You’d be classy if you knew screaming wouldn’t change a thing?” They snort with laughter. Sean is a few steps ahead. He hears the last one. He stops. He turns around. Looks at them. “You guys done running your mouths?” They shut up fast. “My girl’s tough. Willa was raised soft — she can’t take what Ally can. If I don’t shield her, who will?” One of his closest buddies grins. Slaps his shoulder. “All right, all right. Ally’s still our girl. We all know this wedding’s just a show. You two have a courthouse appointment day after tomorrow, right?” He winks. ” That one counts. Once she signs that license, she’s not going anywhere.” Sean nods. Satisfied. The elevator dings. They step in. The doors slide shut. I stay behind the flowers. I don’t move. All I can hear in my head is one line. She can’t take what Ally can. Right. Of course. Willa grew up in the Sutton mansion. Spoiled. Soft. Of course she can’t take it. But why is it my job to? My mom used to yank me by the hair and call me a money pit. A useless girl. If school wasn’t free and mandatory, I never would have learned to read. I clawed my way into the best high school in the city. My parents wouldn’t give me a dime for food. I ate bread and pickles for three years straight. Sean knows all of this. I went to college on the other side of the country and never planned to come back. I wired money home every month. That was it. No calls. No visits. Those four years were the happiest of my life. Nobody hit me. Nobody screamed at me. Nobody kicked my door open at midnight asking for cash. I thought I was free. Then two years ago, Sean took me to meet his parents. Mrs. Sutton said it right up front. Sipping her tea. “The Suttons are a respectable family. A daughter-in-law’s family needs to be presentable. We don’t want gossip.” Sean took my hands. Pleaded. “Ally, baby. Just move back in with your folks for a while. For us. Hang in there until my mom signs off on the wedding.” So I moved back home. To make Sean’s life easier. For two years I played the happy daughter. Mom wanted money. I gave it. Dad lost at the track. I covered it. The neighbors said, “Look how your girl’s done so well.” My mother beamed. “Of course she has. She’s marrying a Sutton.” She forgot she ever called me a useless girl. She forgot. I didn’t. I thought there was an end to all this. Once I got married, I’d build my own home with Sean. Far away from them. If they came knocking? They’d be the Suttons’ in-laws too. Sean would have my back. That’s what I thought. But now — The elevator’s gone. The hallway is quiet. The floral display in front of me smells like a funeral parlor. I’m still standing here. Holding a clipboard. About to go run someone else’s wedding.

Three in the afternoon. The whole house is scrambling to get ready for the reception. I’m sitting on my parents’ living room couch. Already dressed. Already done with all of them. My brother Jake yanks at his red bowtie, grinning at the hallway mirror. “Willa hit the jackpot, huh? Grew up over there. Now she’s marrying back in.” “Should’ve been me the hospital swapped. I’d make a hell of a rich kid.” “Shut your mouth,” Mom snaps. “Polish your shoes.” I don’t say anything. Funny thing about Willa, though. The other baby in that hospital swap? She got taken. Mistaken identity. An accident. The day my mom gave birth to her, the second she heard it’s a girl, she walked out of that hospital and left the baby on the bed. Didn’t even pay the bill. She just never imagined the daughter she dumped would land at the Suttons’. Raised like a princess for twenty-three years. When Willa first got “returned” to us, she cried every day. One afternoon, when nobody was around, I sat her down. “Listen to me. Blood doesn’t mean love. They didn’t want you the day you were born. A family like this — bloodsuckers — you’re better off without them.” “You had an elite education at the Suttons’. You can stand on your own. Leave.” She nodded. Eyes red. I thought she heard me. Then Sean was at my door. Face like a thundercloud. “Willa says you told her to move out. She says you called her a burden. That you look down on her.” “Ally. Picking on her when she was my sister was one thing. Now she’s your blood. You’re really going to kick her while she’s down?” I just stared at him. What he was saying had nothing to do with what I actually said. But I wasn’t surprised. Because this kind of thing had happened a hundred times. Back when she was still “Willa Sutton” — same exact game. First time Sean took me to meet his parents, she sat next to me at dinner. Smiling. Piling food on my plate. All shellfish. All peanuts. Everything she knew I was allergic to. I didn’t want to make a scene. I forced down a few bites. Left half a plate. After dinner, I pulled her aside. Told her quietly — I’m allergic. I’m sorry. She smiled. Said she understood. Then she went and cried to Sean. Said I’d thrown out her food. Said I thought I was too good for it. A few months later, the three of us went out to eat. She draped herself across Sean’s arm. Begged him to peel her shrimp. Feed her like a baby. The waitress smiled. “You two are such a cute couple.” I put down my fork. “They’re siblings.” Next day Sean was at my door again. “She cried for hours last night. You were so quick to shut that waitress down. Do you not like her?” … It went on like that for years. I stopped explaining. I just let my actions speak. Let him see it on his own — that I wasn’t whatever villain his oversensitive sister kept painting me as. And now — they aren’t even brother and sister anymore. And here comes the same interrogation again. I wanted to explain. But then I looked at his face — that “why are you like this again” look — and suddenly I didn’t want to say a word. Does he really not know what kind of people my parents are? Does he really not know why I told Willa to leave? He knows. He just doesn’t care. He doesn’t care what I think. These past two years, I’ve seen Willa in a thin nightgown, curled up in bed with Sean, reading. I’ve seen him hold her in his arms and wipe her tears. Every time, I wanted to lose my mind. Every time, I told myself: just wait. Wait until they’re each married off. Then it’ll be fine. Then the night before the wedding, he sat me down and calmly asked if he could marry her instead. That’s when I finally got it. It would never be fine. Not even after the wedding. My hand drifts to my stomach. This. This is the only person in the world whose heartbeat is mine. I was hit, screamed at, starved growing up. I didn’t have a choice. This baby does. I won’t let it grow up the way I did. Picked over. Weighed. Ranked. Ready to be thrown out when something better comes along. When it was just me, I could swallow anything. The bloodsucker family. The boyfriend with no boundaries. The fake sister-in-law gunning for me. But not with this baby. Not anymore. My phone buzzes. Reminder: Your flight departs at 9:45 PM tonight. I stand up. Reach for my bag. Mom’s face changes. “Where do you think you’re going? I already told you — you’re not coming to the reception.” I haven’t even opened my mouth, and she’s already writing the script. “Can’t even hold on to your own man, and now you want to crash your sister’s wedding? Give it up. They were childhood sweethearts. Turns out they’re not even blood-related. What part of that has anything to do with you?” “I wasn’t planning to go,” I cut in. She freezes. She doesn’t believe me. Stares at me for a long minute. Something weird flickers across her face. “Huh. Sean was right about you after all.”

She clicks her tongue. “He called us this morning. Said you’re stubborn. Said to keep an eye on you. Said he was scared you’d do something dumb.” She grabs my wrist. “Come on. You’re coming with us.” I stumble. “I said I’m not going.” “Not going?” She snorts. “Leave you here alone? Yeah, right. The second we leave, you’ll be over there making a scene. Then we look like fools. Nope. You’re coming where I can see you.” She shoves me toward the door. … The reception is at the Sutton Hotel. The ceremony was earlier this afternoon. Garden venue. White chairs on the lawn. Rose arch. The officiant pronounced them husband and wife at four sharp. I wasn’t there. I told them I’d meet everyone at the reception. I’m sandwiched between Mom and Dad at the family table. The lights dim. A spotlight hits the dance floor. The DJ’s voice comes over the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen — please welcome, for their very first dance as husband and wife — Mr. and Mrs. Sean Sutton.” The room erupts. Sean leads Willa onto the floor. She’s still in her white gown. He’s loosened his tie just enough to look effortless. Practiced. The first notes of their song drift out. Slow. Sweet. He pulls her in. She tilts her face up at him, eyes crinkled with laughter. He reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Someone in the crowd whoops. “Kiss her, man!” He laughs. Bends. Kisses her forehead. Mom leans into my ear. “Look how perfect they are together. Let it go.” I don’t say anything. She’s right. They look perfect. When I first told her I was dating the Sean Sutton, she said the exact same thing about us. The song ends. The applause swells. The best man steps up to the mic. Champagne flute in hand. He’s been waiting for this moment all night. “Most of you in this room have known these two since they were kids. Sean and Willa , sandbox to altar.” The room awwws. “I’ve watched my boy chase her around since they were six years old. I’ve watched him fight off every guy who ever looked at her sideways. And tonight — finally — he gets to call her his wife.” He raises the flute. “To the long road home. To the love that survived every storm. To Sean and Willa.” The room raises every glass in the house. I tilt my head down. Bite back something between a smile and a wince. Sandbox to altar. Sure. The storm their love had to survive — that would be me. I look around the ballroom. The warm gold uplighting. My pick. The peonies on every table. My pick. The playlist drifting under the speeches. I built it song by song. Every wedding favor at every place setting — I wrapped them myself. I planned the whole thing with my own two hands. Then I handed it over so he could marry someone else. You know what? It’s fine. It’s actually fine. I ended it all with my own hands. My phone buzzes in my clutch. The screen lights up. 9:45 PM. Flight to — I look at that line. My mouth moves. Not a smile. Just — the pain stops. My hand drifts down to my stomach. Soon I’ll have someone with my blood. A real career on the other side of the world. Something solid under my feet. I switch off the screen. Stand up. Head for the doors.

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Five years of marriage, and Chloe finally agreed to spend Christmas with my family. Then her phone rang. One call, and she slammed the brakes—right there on the highway. “Check the trunk. Something’s rattling back there.” I set up the warning triangle and checked everything. Nothing wrong. When I came back, the car doors were locked from the inside. I’d left my jacket in the car to save time. The December wind cut right through me, and I couldn’t stop shaking. “Babe, come on. Let me in.” “Mr. Sterling just moved up the meeting. I need to drop off this proposal. You wait here—I’ll be back.” Her eyes met mine through the window. Cold. Calculating. “Besides, going to your parents’ place is a waste of time anyway, Gabriel. I’m doing this so you won’t cause a scene. Try to understand.” She floored it. The car disappeared down the highway. I pulled out my phone and called my executive assistant. “Close the next exit. Then come get me.” “And tail my wife’s car.” “I want to know exactly who the hell thinks they can use my name to meet my wife on Christmas Eve.” Three minutes later, my assistant pulled up beside me. “Mr. Sterling, you must be freezing. Get in.” “I thought you were going home for the holidays. What happened? Did you and the Mrs. have another fight?” I climbed into the back seat, my frozen legs barely cooperating. “Not a fight.” He relaxed a little. “Good. Your father just calmed down. We can’t have any problems now, not when—” “An affair.” His face went white. He shrank back in his seat, didn’t dare ask another question. He just hit the gas and stayed on Chloe’s tail. The highway reopened. Chloe was flying—heels and all, she had the pedal to the floor. I watched the direction. My brow furrowed. The Sterlings don’t do business deals by the ocean. I called her again. Her voice dripped with irritation. “Gabriel, are you seriously not done yet? Just because you don’t have a job doesn’t mean you get to interrupt people who do, okay?” My son’s voice chimed in next, parroting her tone. “Dad, you’ve got it easy, sure, but don’t forget—Mom’s the one bringing home the money.” “She’s carrying the weight for this whole family. How can you be so shameless, bothering her at a time like this?” They hung up. I watched them jump out of the car and climb aboard a yacht docked in the shallows—slick, rehearsed, like they’d done it a hundred times. Funny thing: that yacht was my parents’ eighteenth birthday gift to me. I followed them, stone-faced. A server blocked my path. “The Sterling heir’s private family event. No outsiders allowed.” My assistant lost it. He grabbed the guy by the collar. “There’s only one Sterling heir, and he’s standing right in front of you! Gabriel Sterling!” The server’s jaw dropped. “But—but the manager said—” My assistant rolled his eyes and called the beach property manager. Two minutes later, the manager came sprinting over, bowing so low I thought he’d snap in half. “Mr. Sterling, this is a misunderstanding—a complete misunderstanding.” “We were told Mr. Sterling was hosting a family event on the yacht. We didn’t dare ask questions!” “We’ll stop everything right now and investigate everyone on board!” I glanced at the sweat pouring down his face and frowned slightly. “Don’t make a scene. And don’t tell anyone who I am. I want to see exactly who’s got the balls to pull this.” The yacht turned around. The gangway lowered. I stepped aboard. Everyone in the main cabin turned to stare. The moment they saw me, their faces twisted with rage. “Gabriel, this isn’t where you belong!” “Who do you think you are, showing up on Mr. Sterling’s yacht? Apologize to Mr. Sterling and get the hell out!” I looked at the man they were all fawning over—the so-called “Mr. Sterling.” He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. The two people yelling at me, though? I knew them very well. My in-laws. Chloe’s own parents. I laughed—bitter, sharp. “It’s Christmas Eve. My wife doesn’t come home with me. Instead, she shows up at a stranger’s family event.” “Mom, Dad… care to explain?”

“Explain?” My father-in-law sneered and shoved me. “You broke nobody—what makes you think you can demand explanations on our turf?” My mother-in-law clutched the Hermès shawl I’d given her tighter around her shoulders, smirking. “Exactly. Who the hell are you? What gives you the right to ask us anything?” “Get out. Now. Or we’ll throw you into the ocean ourselves.” I could see it was pointless talking to these two. “Where’s Chloe? I want to see Chloe.” I started shouting her name, heading for the stairs. My father-in-law grabbed me and punched me square in the nose. “What are you yelling for? Why are you looking for our daughter?” “Shout one more time and we’re calling the cops!” My assistant’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his skull. “You are the Sterling heir, and these are the in-laws you gave up everything to help?” The two immediately started cursing. “Stop lying! He’s not worthy of being called the Sterling heir. There’s only one Sterling heir in this world—Felix Sterling!” The man leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching like this was all some show, finally stepped forward. He grabbed me by the collar, a cold smirk on his face. “They’re right. What the hell are you? You think you’re good enough to set foot on my yacht?” Looking closer, I was certain—I’d seen this guy before. But I couldn’t remember where. I grabbed his hand and twisted. He yelped and let go. My assistant handed me my marriage certificate. I opened it right in front of Felix’s face. “I’m Chloe’s husband. I’m here to see my wife. Got a problem with that?” I thought that would end this circus. Instead, my mother-in-law pulled something out of her purse. “What are you so smug about? You’re just her Ex-husband.” I looked down at the document in her hand. My breath caught. “Divorce papers?” “That’s impossible. Chloe and I—we’re fine. We never got divorced—” I snatched the certificate and stared at it. It was real. My brain raced. A few weeks ago, Chloe had been so excited, telling me she’d met some big-time CEO. Then she said she wanted to help me switch jobs and asked me to sign a blank sheet of paper. I’d signed without a second thought. I trusted her completely. Turns out she’d divorced me—unilaterally, behind my back—a long time ago. Betrayal flooded through me like poison. I tore the certificate to shreds and hurled it to the floor, my eyes scanning the room for Chloe. “Chloe! Get out here and explain this!” Felix saw me losing it. He lunged at me from behind. I turned. His fist came flying. My assistant blocked it and swung back—hard. Felix hit the deck, blood streaming from his nose, screaming. “You dare hit me on my yacht? You’re dead! Get them!” A wave of security guards rushed us. We couldn’t fight them all. My assistant threw himself in front of a metal pole aimed at my head—and got flung overboard. My eyes went wide. I dove after him, grabbed his hand, but my own body slammed against the railing and hung there, dangling. The wind whipped around us. Cold sweat poured down my face. I shouted down at him. “Hold on to me! The current’s brutal here—if you fall, you’re dead!” He grabbed my other hand with a death grip, nodding through gritted teeth. I gasped for air and shouted toward the deck. “Someone help me up!” My in-laws looked at me dangling there—and took a step back. Everyone else just stood there, watching like it was a betting pool. How long could I hold on? Out of a dozen people, only one moved. Henry. My son. My chest warmed. Even if the rest of the family were monsters, at least my boy had a good heart. Then he lifted his leg—wearing the latest Air Jordans I’d bought him—and stomped on my hand. “Loser. We told you not to come. You just had to show up and ruin everything.” “If you mess with my new dad again, I’ll throw you off this boat myself.”

In that moment, my entire body went cold. I couldn’t breathe. I knew Chloe thought I was worthless. I knew her parents hated that I had no connections, no background. But my son—I’d raised him with my own hands. I’d never missed a single moment of his life from the day he was born. We shared blood. How could he do this to me? My throat tightened. Tears stung my eyes. Below me, my assistant was shaking with rage. “Mr. Sterling, forget about me—get up there and destroy them!” His shout snapped me back. He’d been with me since we were kids. We only got separated because I’d fought with my family over Chloe, cut all ties, and walked away. No matter what, I couldn’t let him disappear into the ocean. I tightened my grip on both hands, veins bulging on my forehead. The imposter—Felix—laughed. “Well, since our guest of honor is here, I’ve decided to move up the engagement party. Today. Right now.” He bent down and patted my face, mocking. “Chloe’s ex-husband… today, you’re gonna hang right here and watch your wife call me her man. How’s that sound?” Rage burned in my eyes. But all I could do was hold on. Then, from the staircase, Chloe appeared. She saw me hanging off the side of the boat and gasped, covering her mouth. “Gabriel—what are you doing here?” “And what’s going on? What are you all doing?” Felix laughed and strutted over, draping his arm over her shoulder—right in front of me. “I’m in a great mood today. Decided we’re getting engaged. Right here, right now.” “But there’s trash cluttering up my yacht. Chloe, if you can get rid of the trash, I’ll be very happy.” Chloe’s face went pale. But she did what he asked. “Gabriel… I’m sorry. Since you already know, just… help me one last time, okay?” “This opportunity means everything to me. I have to take it. You understand, don’t you?” Her voice was soft, gentle. Her hands were breaking my fingers. I screamed. The air punched out of my lungs. I almost lost my grip. Felix roared with laughter. “See that, buddy? People with money can do whatever the hell they want.” Below me, my assistant was screaming. “You bitch, stop! Felix is a FAKE—Gabriel Sterling is the real heir!” “He gave up everything for you! This year was the first time his parents agreed to accept you, and you’re listening to this fraud? Pull us up!” Chloe didn’t believe a word of it. “I know exactly who Gabriel is.” “So that’s why Felix wants you dead—you came onto his yacht to fake being someone you’re not. No wonder. You deserve this!” I stared at her—this woman I loved more than anything—and couldn’t find a shred of mercy in her eyes. She stopped pretending. Met my gaze head-on. And slowly, deliberately, one by one, she bent my fingers backward. I’d been holding a grown man off the side of a boat. My body was numb. I felt nothing but searing pain. Only my thumb and index finger were left gripping the railing. Then Felix spoke. “All right, pull them up.”

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The day my family declared bankruptcy, I pulled my mother back from the ledge of the roof. I told her I would sell myself to Sebastian Hargrave to get the money to save us. “The price tag?” Sebastian asked, his voice cold as winter steel. “Two million dollars.” He was silent for three seconds before letting out a low laugh. “Deal.” Six months into our marriage, he brought his mistress home. Before I could even process what was happening, he threw the prenuptial agreement in my face. “Don’t forget your place, Elena. You already sold yourself to me, didn’t you? It’s none of your damn business.” I had no rebuttal. Not until the day of my acute appendicitis, when I was fourteen dollars short on the pharmacy bill. Over the phone, his voice dripped with mockery: “Didn’t I already pay you everything upfront? What, getting addicted to being a kept woman?” He hung up. Then turned around and dropped fourteen million on a limited-edition Patek Philippe for his girlfriend. Facing the nurse’s impatient stare, I forced a smile. “Cancel the surgery. Just discharge me, please.” A marriage bought for two million dollars had finally reached its end. — My phone buzzed against the hospital intake counter. A bank notification. Fourteen dollars deposited. The memo read: *For your surgery. Don’t embarrass the Hargrave name.* I let out a bitter laugh that turned into a wince of pain. Fourteen dollars would cover the pharmacy co-pay. But not the $331 deposit for the actual surgery. I knew Sebastian wouldn’t give me another cent. Not when he’d just spent fourteen million on a watch for Tiffany. So I swallowed my pride and texted my old friends, asking to borrow $317. Combined with what I had and his fourteen dollars, it would be just enough. The replies came fast. *Wow, the gold digger needs money? Blew through two million already?* *If you hadn’t trapped Sebastian and broken his heart, you wouldn’t be begging for pocket change now.* The cruel messages kept coming. I’d gone numb. Numb to Sebastian treating our marriage like a transaction. Treating me like a piece of property he’d bought for two million. Numb to his friends’ endless mockery, calling me a gold digger in a thousand creative ways. Numb to the humiliation of an empty wallet, to stepping on my own dignity over and over, begging Sebastian for scraps. At first, I thought I could manage. I’m a grown woman with a degree and two working hands—I should be able to support myself. Maybe even save up two million to pay him back. But Sebastian cut off every avenue I had to earn money. “I already paid two million for the rest of your life. Your time, your freedom—they’re mine now.” He wanted to break me. To force me to come crawling to him for money. It was his way of punishing me for turning our love into a negotiation. For making him believe I’d been lying to him for three years—that it was always about the money. I tried to explain. So many times. But he never had the patience to listen. “What’s the point of all these excuses?” “You’re the one who asked for the money. We became this because of you.” Another notification lit up my cracked phone screen. Someone had transferred $371 with a note: *Payment for letting me enjoy watching you suffer.* I wiped the dampness from my face and smiled at the nurse. “I can pay now. Please schedule the surgery as soon as possible.” But I didn’t have enough left for anesthesia. So I lay there on that freezing surgical table, wide awake and shivering. Cold sweat soaked through my hair and hospital gown. I could feel everything. The scalpel breaking skin. The instruments entering my body. The twisting, cutting motions inside me. When the tearing pain hit its peak, I thought of Sebastian. He used to hold me close in bed, fingers tracing patterns on my skin. “After we’re married, let’s have a baby. Boy or girl, I don’t care. I’ll love you both with everything I have.” But when I actually brought up trying for a child six months into our marriage, he sneered: “You want me to give you my baby? So you can trap me forever with child support? In your dreams.” I don’t want it anymore, Sebastian. Not the money. Not the love. Not you. I don’t want any of it. — I don’t know how long I endured that surgery. Finally, mercifully, it ended. As the instruments withdrew, sound slowly filtered back in. The nurse unstrapped my legs and helped me onto a recovery bed for a thirty-minute observation period. I stared blankly out the window at the dark Manhattan sky, tears sliding down my face. Suddenly, a firework shot into the air, exploding in a brilliant burst of gold and crimson. Then another. And another. Until the entire city was lit up like daylight. I stared at the sky, dazed. Nearby, I heard a few young nurses whispering enviously: “Did you hear? Mr. Hargrave set this off for his girlfriend! That Tiffany girl is so lucky!” “Wait, what girlfriend? Mr. Hargrave has a wife! Though I heard she’s just some gold digger. Apparently she’s lower than the household staff now.”

On the way home, I dragged my freshly sutured abdomen step by agonizing step through the snow-dusted streets. A taxi pulled up beside me. The driver rolled down his window. “Where to, miss?” I waved him off weakly. “No thanks.” I couldn’t afford the fare. Not after spending everything on surgery. So I walked. Eight miles back to the Hargrave estate in Greenwich. All around me, people were still raving about tonight’s fireworks show. “So beautiful! If someone did that for me, my life would be complete!” “Keep dreaming. You think you’re Sebastian Hargrave’s girlfriend? Look at that girl over there—pale as a ghost and no one cares.” I glanced up at the two women whispering about me. They blushed and stammered that they didn’t mean anything by it, asking if I needed help. I smiled and shook my head. What I wanted to say was: *I’ve had fireworks like that before.* Once upon a time, someone cared. It was the day Sebastian proposed to me. He knelt on one knee outside the Plaza Hotel, holding out a ring, eyes brimming with what looked like tears. “Elena Martinez, you’re the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met. I want to spend my life with you. Love you forever.” “Will you marry me?” Behind him, fireworks even more brilliant than tonight’s lit up the sky over Central Park. But that was also the day I’d pulled my mother back from suicide. Debt collectors were still at our apartment in Queens, using my mother and seven-year-old brother as leverage, demanding immediate payment. I had no choice. So I asked him: “Sebastian… could you lend me two million dollars?” His expression froze instantly. The love in his eyes drained away like water through a sieve. He stood up slowly, a mocking smile curling his lips. “Everyone said you were with me for my money. I didn’t believe them.” “Elena, you really know how to play the long game. Waiting until I proposed—until half of Manhattan was watching—before showing your true colors.” He laughed coldly and signaled to stop the fireworks. Then he pulled a check from his tuxedo pocket and threw it in my face. “Fine. You’re cheap enough, anyway.” From that day on, everything changed. No matter how I tried to explain, I couldn’t shake the label of gold digger. With Sebastian’s silent approval, I became the biggest joke in the entire Upper East Side. Even the household staff earned $30,000 a month. But I had to beg him for three dollars for subway fare. I kept enduring. Waiting for the day his anger would fade. For a chance to explain about my father’s gambling debts, my brother’s medical bills, the loan sharks who threatened to kill my family. Until he brought his first girlfriend home. I lost it. But he just looked at me like I was pathetic and asked what right I had to be angry. He said he’d already bought out our marriage. That even if he brought home a hundred women, it was my own fault for being a whore who sold herself. My heart shattered. But I couldn’t say a single word in my defense. — Six hours in the freezing January wind. Finally, at 1 AM, I made it to the gates of the Hargrave estate. I pushed open the door to warmth and soft lighting. I was about to drag myself upstairs to the small bedroom I’d been relegated to when I heard Sebastian’s voice from the living room. “You’re finally back. Where is it?” I stared at him, sprawled across the couch with Tiffany draped across his lap like a cashmere throw, and asked blankly: “Where’s what?” “Playing dumb? Didn’t I text you to pick up condoms on your way home?” Sebastian looked me up and down with contempt. “I spent all that money on you. Can’t even handle a simple errand?” My phone had died hours ago. I hadn’t seen any message. I bit my lip and forced out: “Buy them yourself.” Maybe my cold tone set him off. He shot up from the couch, his six-foot frame towering over me, eyes blazing. “What, you want more money? I just gave you fourteen dollars. That’s enough for a box, isn’t it?” “Go buy them now. If you don’t come back with them, don’t bother coming back at all.”

I stared at him in disbelief. This wasn’t the first time Sebastian had spoken to me like this. I thought I’d gone numb to his cruelty. But my chest still throbbed with a dense, suffocating pain— It was barely above freezing outside. Even through the windows, I could hear the wind howling. It was past 1 AM. Where the hell was I supposed to buy condoms? When I didn’t move, Sebastian let out a cold laugh. “Why are you still standing there? Need more money?” He pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and tossed it on the marble floor without even looking at me. “There. Is that enough?” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “You called me earlier asking for fourteen dollars for medicine. Where is it?” “Elena, you’re really shameless now. Scamming me for fourteen dollars?” Anesthesia? The surgery was already over. What would be the point of explaining? Before I could answer, Sebastian waved over his security guard. They shoved me out the front door into the freezing night. Through the heavy wood, his voice turned even colder. “If you don’t come back with condoms, stay outside all night.” Then came the sound of kissing. Giggling. Followed by something far more obscene. I instinctively wanted to walk away. To get as far from those sounds as possible. But I didn’t even have the strength to stand. I slid down against the door and sat on the cold stone steps. The freezing wind cut through my thin jacket. And froze whatever warmth was left in my dying heart. — At some point—I don’t know how long I’d been sitting there—I heard the door open behind me. Then Sebastian’s frantic cursing: “Elena, are you insane?! You couldn’t find somewhere warm?!” “Is this little guilt-trip act fun for you?!” A familiar scent of expensive perfume hit me. It must be a hallucination, I thought. Sebastian hates me now. He wouldn’t care if I died. When I opened my eyes, Sebastian’s face was ashen with what looked like fury. “Done pretending? I just asked you to buy condoms. Was it really worth this pathetic performance?” “What, you want the media to find out you nearly froze to death outside the Hargrave estate so you can extort more money from me?” I tried to speak. But my throat burned, raw and painful. Sebastian looked away, refusing to meet my eyes. “Where the hell is the family doctor?! Why isn’t he here yet?!” “Don’t let her die on my property!” Tears slid silently down my frozen face. Sebastian, what do you even want from me? You hate me enough to wish me dead. But now you’re terrified I actually will die. I closed my eyes, my voice barely a rasp: “Sebastian. Let’s get divorced.”

He whipped around like I’d told a joke. “Divorced? Fine. Pay me back the two million first.” He paused, then let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, I get it. You think threatening me with divorce will get you another payout, right?” “So tell me—how much this time? Two million? Five?” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Our marriage is already—” But before I could finish, a loud, exaggerated panting came from inside the house. Tiffany appeared in the doorway, wrapped in Sebastian’s shirt. The family doctor arrived right behind her. After a quick examination, the doctor hesitated before speaking carefully to Sebastian: “Mr. Hargrave… Mrs. Hargrave appears to have just had surgery. Appendectomy. Without anesthesia, based on these sutures.” He paused, clearly uncomfortable. “She needs immediate rest and monitoring. The cold exposure could cause the incision to—” “Fine. Take her to the guest house.” Sebastian cut him off, not even looking at me. “Make sure she doesn’t die. That’s all.” — The recovery period was brutal. But what came after was worse. Because once I could walk again, Sebastian found new ways to punish me. It started with Tiffany. She’d moved into the main house full-time now. And Sebastian made sure I knew my place. One morning at breakfast, Tiffany casually mentioned wanting truffle risotto for lunch. Sebastian turned to me, his face blank. “Didn’t you hear what Tiffany said?” I stared at the scrambled eggs already on the table and said nothing. He smiled. That cold, cruel smile I’d come to know so well. “Oh, you want money for groceries? Fine. I’ll pay.” “Deal?” I finished my last bite and walked to the kitchen without looking back. Once I left, I heard Tiffany’s sugary voice: “Babe, aren’t you worried humiliating Elena with money will make her, like, snap or something?” Sebastian snorted. “Don’t worry. As long as there’s money involved, she’d sell her soul.” This time, he was right. As long as it helped me scrape together two million to pay him back, I’d do anything. From that day on, I became Tiffany’s personal servant. Making her coffee? $30,000 per week. Running her errands? $50,000. Sometimes, when Sebastian wanted to humiliate me further, he’d make me sit in the corner of their bedroom while they had sex. $80,000 per session. At first, I felt sick. Degraded beyond recognition. But after enough times, I went numb. I could even hand Tiffany a glass of water mid-session without blinking. But Sebastian’s expression grew darker each time. Until one day, he couldn’t take it anymore. He knocked the water glass out of my hand and grabbed my face violently. “Elena, do you have no shame?!” I looked into his eyes, calm and detached. It was almost funny. In just six weeks, I’d saved $1.6 million. Only $400,000 left. Then I could pay him back and divorce him. Then I’d be free.

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