I spent twelve years with Dorian Vale, only to go from being his girlfriend to his and his fiancée’s exclusive servant. After Dorian forced me for the 99th time to kneel on the shattered glass to serve as a human footstool for his fiancée, I finally felt utterly exhausted. So, I gave up on Dorian and got engaged to Gideon Whitmore, who had been pursuing me relentlessly. That day, Gideon was so emotional he broke down, sobbing at my feet, and reserved every single flower in the city for me. But on the eve of our wedding, Gideon drunkenly spilled the truth during his bachelor party with his friends. “Ah, the thought of faking it with a woman like her—used and tossed aside by who knows how many—makes my skin crawl. But what choice do I have? She refuses to have a kid for Alyssa, so I had to step up and do it myself.” And this so-called Alyssa Davis would be Dorian’s fiancée. Inside the private room, one of Gideon’s friends asked, “Does Alyssa know how much you’ve done for her?” Gideon’s voice was hoarse as he replied, “As long as she’s happy, what’s my life worth in comparison?” Standing just outside the door, I clenched the pregnancy test result tighter and tighter in my hand. So, this was the truth. Gideon’s decade-long pursuit of me and his obsessive passion every night—it was all fake. All because he feared Alyssa wouldn’t have a baby, that Dorian might leave her, and she’d suffer because of it. What a great and selfless man he turned out to be! But what did he take me for? With everything running through my mind, tears streamed down my face. Staring at Gideon’s anguished expression inside the room as he “sacrificed” himself for his so-called true love, I made up my mind. I pulled out my phone and placed a call. Once the line connected, I said firmly, “I’m ready to inherit my adoptive father’s entire estate.” The private butler responded quickly, “Very well, Ms. Westbrook. Mr. Jameson Westbrook’s private estate is now at your disposal. Your custom partner is ready, and three billion dollars will be transferred to your account immediately. However, as stipulated in the will, you can never leave the island for the rest of your life.” My eyes stung with unshed tears. “Alright, I accept.” Seven days would be enough to tie up loose ends here. At five years old, Alyssa’s mother abducted me, replacing me with her own daughter in the Davis family. Alyssa enjoyed the peaceful life that should have been mine. Even when the truth came out, my parents and fiancé still favored her. Even Gideon, who had pursued me for ten years, truly loved her. Jameson had seen through everything early on. He left me an immense fortune and built a dream estate tailored for me. His only request was that I leave and never return. Since they saw me as nothing more than a tool for Alyssa’s happiness, I might as well fulfill Jameson’s wish and spend the rest of my life in wealthy solitude. After hanging up, the butler began arranging my fake death certificate. Only by erasing all traces of me could my father, Edward Davis, my mother, Margaret Davis, Dorian, and Gideon never find me again. However, I realized there was one last thing left. My hand rested on my stomach as I bit my lip and pushed open the door to the private room. When I entered, the room fell silent. Gideon was the first to react, pulling me into his arms as he sat down. His gaze was so full of love that it nearly drowned me. “Why are you here? Did you miss me?” Before I could respond, the door slammed open again. Alyssa stumbled in, and tears streamed down her face as she saw me in Gideon’s arms. She asked pitifully, “Gideon, didn’t you promise to never marry anyone and stay by my side as a brother forever?” Instinctively, he shoved me away. Caught off guard, I crashed into the table, spilling wine all over me. My exposed skin burned like fire, instantly breaking out in a rash—I was severely allergic to alcohol. Gideon knew about my allergy, and his face twisted in panic as he looked at me. “I…” Before he could finish, Alyssa began sobbing hysterically, “Freya, I know you hate me for taking away Dad, Mom, and Dorian. I’ll kill myself right now to give it all back to you!” With that, she turned and ran out of the room. “Alyssa!” Gideon was utterly frantic. Without a second thought, he ran after her. After that whole ordeal, the private room fell into dead silence. Gideon’s friends looked at me with a mix of pity and shock, but mostly, they seemed amused, like they were watching a joke unfold. They were all waiting for me to break down, to cry and scream. But I did nothing. Instead, I slipped off the ill-fitting engagement ring on my finger and placed it on the table. “Give this back to Gideon for me.”
After getting my allergy treated, it was already late at night. Checking the time, I decided to make a quick trip home. There wasn’t much to pack—just Jameson’s handwritten will, the document that served as my key to the manor. When I reached the front of Davis Villa, I remembered I wasn’t authorized for fingerprint access, so I pressed the doorbell instead. When the door swung open, my birth mother’s face lit up with a radiant smile, only to fall apart the second her eyes landed on me. Margaret didn’t miss a beat, raising her hand and slapping me hard across the cheek. “Why are you back here? Trying to rub your engagement to Gideon in Alyssa’s face again?” Edward chimed in from the side with a sneer, “You just have to take everything, don’t you? Guess that’s what happens when you grow up in the poor countryside—no manners.” My right cheek burned from the slap, and it felt all too familiar. Since the day I was brought back to Davis Villa, I had lost count of how many random slaps like this I had endured. In front of me, Gideon was sitting on the couch with Alyssa tucked under his arm. When she saw me return, she immediately put on her pitiful act. “Freya, I’m just afraid that once you marry Gideon, he won’t want me as his sister anymore. Please don’t misunderstand.” But I said nothing. I simply went upstairs to retrieve the will. Maybe I was too calm. But when I came downstairs, there was obvious panic on Gideon’s face. He stood up and said, “Freya, I shouldn’t have left you tonight, but Alyssa has depression, and Dorian isn’t here.” I remained utterly indifferent and said, “I won’t be living here anymore.” The moment I finished speaking, the living room fell into a heavy silence. Margaret stared at me, and disbelief was written all over her face. “What are you…” I knew exactly why Margaret was shocked. Years ago, Alyssa had falsely accused me of cutting up her dress. In their fury, they tried to throw me out. Later, I stood outside in the pouring rain all night, apologizing to Alyssa hundreds of times before they let me back in. To stay in this family, I had taken on all the housework—laundry, cooking, and cleaning—while living in a cramped attic storage room. To them, my greatest fear was being abandoned. But now, none of that mattered anymore. In the manor Jameson had built for me, there were family and a partner tailored just for me. They would never drive me away. Alyssa was the first to react. She started wailing dramatically, “No! It’s me who should leave. I’m the one who upset you, Freya. I’ll go!” Margaret’s face turned pale with shock, and she rushed over to try to calm Alyssa down. Edward, on the other hand, roared at me, telling me to leave and never come back if I was going to go. Gideon, clearly flustered, grabbed my arm and spoke urgently, “Stop this nonsense. I’ll take you back home first.” He didn’t give me a chance to refuse, pulling me along as he strode out. Once we were back home, Gideon closed the door and immediately pulled me into his arms from behind. His hands slid under my shirt as he murmured, “Tomorrow is the wedding, Freya. It’s been ten years… I’ve waited ten years to marry you.” As he spoke, a single tear fell onto my neck. If I hadn’t overheard his conversation earlier tonight, I might have believed he was madly in love with me. But now, I understood perfectly. He only wanted to use my body to give Alyssa a guarantee of happiness. Suppressing the lump in my throat, I pushed Gideon away and said, “I’m not in the mood.” But he wouldn’t back down. Pinning me onto the sofa, he looked at me with pitiful eyes and asked, “Would you really leave me hanging like this?” I couldn’t help but think, “And are you fine with handing over the baby I’d carry for about nine months?” I closed my eyes and dropped my trump card. “Today isn’t my ovulation day. The chances of getting pregnant are really low.” As soon as I finished speaking, his body stiffened against mine. He quickly got up, and his gaze was still full of affection as he said, “Fine. The wedding’s tomorrow anyway. I won’t wear you out tonight.” With that, he headed to the bathroom to wash up. As the weight on top of me disappeared, I felt a hollow emptiness in my chest. I got up and quietly walked to the bathroom door. Immediately, I heard Gideon’s anxious voice through the door. “Is there any way to make Freya get pregnant quickly? Even if it means drugging her and doing IVF while she’s unconscious. Just do it. I don’t care what happens to her. Alyssa can’t wait any longer!” The tears I’d held back for so long finally spilled over. Placing a hand on my abdomen, I whispered, “I’m sorry, baby. You shouldn’t have to hide away with me, and you definitely shouldn’t be treated as a bargaining chip for your father to please someone else.” Wiping away my tears, I resolutely made a phone call. “Doctor, I’d like to schedule an abortion.”
The next day was the scheduled date for trying on the wedding dress. I had long since stopped looking forward to the wedding, but fearing Gideon might notice my indifference, I decided to go along with him. When we arrived at the shop, I saw someone I didn’t expect—Alyssa. She was wearing my wedding dress while Edward and Margaret were busy recording her with their phones. Margaret said with a laugh, “Alyssa looks much better in this. Come on, spin around for me, Sweetie. I’ll take a video of our little princess.” I turned to look at Gideon and noticed his gaze filled with doting affection. Just then, Alyssa noticed me at the door. Her eyes gleamed with triumph, but she quickly feigned panic and started removing the dress. “Freya’s here. I’d better take it off quickly, or she’ll get upset…” Only after her words did Edward and Margaret finally notice me. Perhaps it was my unusually calm expression, but Margaret hesitated briefly. Even so, she pressed Alyssa’s hands down and haughtily addressed me. “Alyssa looks stunning in this dress. Let her have it.” I stared at the dress, custom-made with thousands of imported diamonds that cost a fortune, and firmly shook my head. “No. I won’t.” This dress carried all my dreams of love. I had designed every detail myself, hoping to wear it on the day I married Gideon. Even if that dream was over, I wasn’t going to let go of something I poured my heart into. Hearing my refusal, Alyssa became more agitated. She started yanking at the dress with all her strength. “I’m not worthy of wearing this! I have no right to touch Freya’s things. I’ll give it back to her!” With that, a loud tearing sound echoed as the pristine white dress was ripped apart. I felt my breath hitch and strode forward. “You!” Before I could even touch Alyssa, she suddenly shoved me hard. I fell backward, and my head slammed into the display cabinet behind me as the glass shattered on impact. A sharp sting spread across my face, and I let out a startled cry, quickly covering my eyes with my hands. Alyssa’s sobs soon filled the air. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t hit me, Freya! I’m begging you, don’t hit me…” The next thing I knew was someone shoved me forcefully. Then, I heard Gideon’s worried voice. “Alyssa, are you okay?” I sat on the floor, clutching my aching head, and looked up at the scene in front of me. Alyssa stood in the middle of the group, and her torn dress was in a mess. Edward and Margaret surrounded her protectively while Gideon inspected her anxiously. Only after making sure Alyssa was unharmed did Gideon turn to me. “Freya, that was completely out of line…” He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the blood running down my face, and his expression momentarily softened with guilt. But Edward and Margaret had no such pause. They immediately began berating me. “It’s just a dress. Did you really have to hurt Alyssa over it? Honestly, you should’ve just stayed dead out there!” It was at that moment I realized something—when pain reaches its peak, you become numb. I no longer expected their concern or cared enough to argue. I just wanted to leave. Before I could take a step, Gideon suddenly helped me up. “I’ll take you to the hospital,” he said firmly, leaving me no room to refuse. It reminded me of the time he led me away after Dorian humiliated me by making me act as a human stool for Alyssa. In the car, I sat in the passenger seat while Gideon drove. His brows were furrowed deeply. For the first time, he spoke with what felt like genuine concern, “I’m sorry about today, Freya. I’ll make sure Alyssa gets what’s coming to her.” The rare show of care left me stunned. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could say anything, the car’s Bluetooth System rang loudly. When the call connected, Margaret’s panicked voice came through. “Gideon, Alyssa locked herself in her room and slit her wrists! I can’t calm her down. Please come back right away!” The screech of brakes pierced the air as the car came to a sudden halt. The force threw me forward, and my abdomen slammed into the dashboard. Pain shot through me like a hot wave, making my vision blur. “Gideon…” I gasped, reaching out for him instinctively. Soon after, the loud slam of a car door echoed, breaking my heart into pieces. Almost instantly, the sharp and jarring sound of car horns filled the air. Gideon had left me stranded on the busy street without a second glance, rushing back to Alyssa. The pain in my abdomen grew unbearable. Blood pooled beneath me as my strength faded. I couldn’t hold on any longer and passed out cold. When I woke up, I was already in the hospital. A doctor was the only one by my side and gently reminded me, “Ms. Westbrook, you’ve sustained an abdominal injury, and there are early signs of pregnancy complications. I recommend contacting your family to arrange for hospitalization to protect the pregnancy.” My throat felt dry, and I couldn’t manage a single word. With effort, I reached for my phone on the bedside table, only to see countless missed calls and messages from Edward, Margaret, Gideon, and even Dorian. My parents’ text read: [Are you only satisfied if you drive Alyssa to her death? She’s already given up everything to you, and you still want to take more. We should’ve never taken you back in the first place!] Dorian had messaged: [Freya, don’t think marrying Gideon is going to get to me or Alyssa. Let me make it clear. I didn’t care about you before, and I’m not going to regret it now.] Gideon also had texted: [Freya, Alyssa can’t handle the fact that I’m marrying you. Let’s postpone the wedding.] The messages were all accusations and threats—not a single one asked how I was doing. I could feel my heart slowly turning to ash. Setting the phone aside, I closed my eyes, resigned to my fate, and said to the doctor, “There’s no need. I don’t have any family. Please proceed with the abortion.” The doctor hesitated for a moment but ultimately nodded, respecting my decision. Soon, I found myself lying on the operating table. The harsh glare of the lights was so blinding I couldn’t keep my eyes open, and the anesthesia gradually began to take hold. Even so, I could still feel the cold instruments stirring inside me. I felt nothing but just a numb emptiness as I closed my eyes. The procedure didn’t just take the baby—it scraped away the last remnants of my feelings for family and love. There was nothing left for me here anymore, nothing worth staying for. When the procedure was over, I lay on the hospital bed, resting. Suddenly, hurried footsteps broke the silence. I opened my eyes to see Gideon bursting in. Our eyes met, and panic flickered in me. I hadn’t hidden the abortion paperwork on the bedside table. But before I could react, Gideon rushed forward and grabbed my hand tightly. “Freya, Alyssa has agreed to let us get married.” I furrowed my brows and just stayed silent. Then, Gideon pulled out a document. “She said she’ll agree to therapy and accept our marriage if you sign this agreement to give up your claim to the Davis family inheritance.” Upon hearing that, I felt my heart, which had already fallen into despair, still gave a sharp and painful jolt at that moment. So, this was why he rushed over—not out of concern for me, but for Alyssa. When the effects of the anesthesia faded, a dull ache began to radiate from my lower abdomen. Watching the man before me, entirely consumed with worry for another woman, I felt the final trace of love I had for him dissolve into nothing. I thought, “Gideon, do you even realize? Your deceitful pretense of love hurts more than Dorian’s blatant cruelty ever could.” Taking a deep breath to suppress the storm of emotions, I said calmly, “Give me the pen.” Gideon’s eyes brightened instantly as he hurriedly placed the pen in my hand. With deliberate strokes, I then signed my name. The moment the last stroke was complete, Gideon pulled me into his arms, and his voice trembled with joy. “Freya, I can finally marry you!” At that moment, I couldn’t tell if his happiness was for marrying me or for securing everything Alyssa wanted. But it didn’t matter anymore. Outside, the roar of helicopter blades echoed loudly. It was the private butler Jameson had arranged for me, arriving with the fake death certificate to take me away. Gideon didn’t notice a thing and hurriedly left with the agreement relinquishing my inheritance. The next moment, a butler in a perfectly tailored suit stepped into the room. He gave a polite nod at my bedside and asked, “Are you ready to leave, Ms. Westbrook?” I glanced at the abortion paperwork on the bedside table, placed it beside the death certificate, and stood up, alone in every sense of the word. “Let’s go.” The butler gave a simple “Yes” before escorting me to board the waiting helicopter. Soon, everything I’d known became specks beneath me. I took one last look below and whispered silently to myself, “Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Dad. Goodbye, Gideon.”
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