Everyone knew my husband Seth was cold. Then I walked in on him pinning my stepsister against the kitchen counter, shoving her shirt up, mouth already on her neck. It came out at a family dinner. Seth wanted a divorce. He’d fallen for Serena. Serena’s husband, Callum, agreed to let her go. His family had just gone bankrupt. He had nothing left to fight with. So he took me instead. Two couples. Two marriages. Swapped clean. Callum looked at Seth across the table. “If my family hadn’t gone under — if Serena hadn’t wanted you — I would never have walked away.” Seth picked Serena up and left. I stood in front of the leftover food and didn’t know where to go. It didn’t matter. I was dying anyway. I didn’t say that out loud. I swallowed it back down. Along with everything else I’d been swallowing for years. — The dinner broke up. The waitstaff cleared the table. I stood in the doorway of the private room with nowhere to go. Seth had already carried Serena out. His arm around her waist, down the hotel corridor, into the elevator. He never looked back. Not once. Callum was still there. Waiting. “Let’s go.” He finally spoke. “Back to my place.” I didn’t want to. “You have nowhere else.” His voice was even. “The Coles won’t take you back. Where else would you go?” I looked at him. He always knew exactly where to press. He waited. When I didn’t answer, he reached out and took my hand. His hand was warm. Knuckles sharp under the skin. Thin calluses on his fingertips. Years ago, he’d held my hand the same way on the day we filed for marriage. “Let’s go,” he said. I didn’t refuse again. Because he was right. I had nowhere to go. — In the car, Callum sat behind the wheel and said nothing. Then, after a long silence: “You hate me.” I turned to look at him. He kept his eyes on the road. Streetlights swept across his face one after another. I didn’t answer. Hate? I used to. After the divorce, the hate kept me up most nights. It sat in my chest like something I couldn’t swallow down and couldn’t spit out. I hated him for marrying me and then not wanting me. For being kind to Serena in front of my face. For the way he started looking through me like I wasn’t there. But what I hated most was the needle. The one he arranged. The one he held me down for. I had just found out I was pregnant. I walked in with the ultrasound printout still warm in my hands. I thought he’d be relieved. I thought maybe this was the thing that would finally give us something to build on. He let me finish. Then he was quiet for a moment. “Serena heard about it,” he said. “She’s not happy.” Serena wasn’t happy. So the baby had to go. I got on my knees. I told him it was his. That the scan showed a heartbeat. That it was beating right now, on that printout, that it was alive. He didn’t react. He picked up his phone and made a call. I don’t know who he called. I only heard his side: “Right. Home visit. As soon as possible.” Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang. A woman in plain clothes came in with a small white case. She glanced at me, then looked at Callum. He nodded. I got up to run. He grabbed me and pinned me to the bed. I fought. I kicked him. I bit down on his hand until I tasted blood. He didn’t let go. The needle went into my vein. My whole body locked up. The fluid moved down the line, drop by drop, into me. I still remember the pain. I rolled. I clawed the sheets apart. I screamed for help until I had no voice left. Nobody came. He stood outside the door all night. He heard me scream. He heard me cry. He heard it go quiet. The sheets were soaked red. The baby was gone. The next morning he came in and looked at me. “Rest up,” he said. Then he left to see Serena. She’d been upset about all of it. He went to comfort her.

My body never recovered after that. The doctor said the damage was permanent. Severe scarring. Likely unable to carry again. I heard it and felt something loosen in my chest. Good. A child nobody wants shouldn’t have to come into this world. “Vera.” Callum’s voice pulled me back. “That procedure,” he said. “I know it left damage.” I looked at him and said nothing. “How are you — how’s your health now?” Not dying. Not living either. Cold weather and my joints ached bone-deep. Every change of season brought the cough. Some nights it went on for hours, and there was blood in what came up. A doctor had told me I had a few years left if nothing changed. I wasn’t going to tell Callum any of that. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. He nodded. Didn’t push. The car moved through one red light, then another. I closed my eyes. — Callum Hart was my first husband. We grew up on the same street in Boston. Same schools, kindergarten through college. Both families had known each other for decades. Everyone said we were the obvious pair. I was twenty when everything changed. Serena’s mother showed up at our house with Serena in tow. My mother found out her husband had a daughter nearly my age that she’d never known about. My mother died that winter. A brain bleed. She was already gone by the time the ambulance got there. The funeral day, Callum came to pay his respects. He took my hand and said: “The engagement still stands. When the mourning period is over, we’ll sign the papers.” The first months of marriage, he was good to me. He was. But it didn’t last long before he fell for Serena. He told me straight. Said he’d split his assets with me fifty-fifty. Said he wanted a divorce. I said no. I cried. I begged. I knelt in front of him and asked if he remembered I was his wife. He looked down at me. No disgust. No pity. Nothing. “Vera,” he said. “You can’t force feelings.” He loved Serena and he didn’t hide it from anyone. When people talked about her, he went after them. When she cried, he stayed up all night. When she said she was unhappy, he gave her whatever she asked for. Including my unborn child. The car stopped. “We’re here.” The Hart house was right in front of us. The living room light was still on. Callum’s mother was on the couch in her robe. She saw me walk in and her face went flat. “Why did you bring her here?” “She is cursed. Her own mother dies, our family goes bankrupt — and you walk her through our front door?” I said nothing. I stood there with my eyes down. Callum said nothing either. She got louder. Went through everything — my face, my family, my character. She went for a full fifteen minutes before Callum spoke. “Mom. It’s late. Go to bed.” She shot him a look, shot me another, and went upstairs still cursing under her breath. Just the two of us. Callum stood with his back to me. “Don’t take it personally.” “Where do I sleep?” I said. He turned, looked at me once, and led me upstairs. He stopped in front of a bedroom door. The room we’d shared when we were married. He pushed it open. Everything inside had been redone. Pink curtains. Serena’s skincare lined up on the vanity. Her photo on the nightstand. Callum gestured at the room. “You can stay here. Don’t move anything. She might come back someday — I don’t want her walking in to find it changed.” I walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. He was still in the doorway. Waiting for something. I didn’t look back. “I’m tired.” He stood there a moment, then turned and walked away. His footsteps faded down the hall. — That night I couldn’t sleep. The room smelled like Serena. Her perfume — something thick and sweet — gave me a headache. I turned over and over. My mind wouldn’t stop. After the divorce from Callum, I’d gone back to the my home. I thought — my father’s house, at least. He wouldn’t turn me away. I was wrong.

The housekeeper stepped back when she saw me in the doorway. My father looked at me like I’d tracked something in. Said I’d shamed the family. My stepmother wanted me out. Every day she had a name for me — a divorced restaurant owner, fifty-something, looking for someone to cook and clean. She said I should consider myself lucky. “You’re a divorced woman,” she said. “What exactly are you holding out for?” That was when Seth came. It was the worst I’d been. My stepmother had nearly finalized it — the restaurant owner, the second marriage I hadn’t agreed to. My father said nothing. His silence was enough. Then Seth showed up and asked for my hand. Said he’d thought about me for a long time. My father said yes. My stepmother threw a cup at the wall. The day I moved into Seth’s house, I thought: maybe this is finally it. He treated me well. He put toothpaste on my brush before I woke up. When I coughed, he made pear tea. On the nights I couldn’t sleep, he lay beside me and patted my back until I went still. I thought I’d found solid ground. I thought maybe things were allowed to be okay now. Then came the day we visited my family after the wedding. Serena was in the yard. She was wearing a white sundress. The wind caught the hem. She turned and glanced back. Just once. That was all it took. Seth’s feet stopped moving. After that, everything changed. He started going to the eastate constantly. Said he was checking on my father. He started buying her things. Lipstick, bags, flowers, jewelry. He started bringing her up in conversation. How smart she was. How thoughtful. I knew exactly what was happening. I didn’t say a word. I just thought: maybe this is just what my life is. The people I love always leave. In the end, it was at the family dinner. He dropped the divorce papers on the table in front of me and walked out with his arm around Serena. — I lay in bed thinking through all of it, and somewhere in the middle of it I fell asleep. The next morning I was woken by shouting. “Still in bed? The sun’s been up for hours!” His mother’s voice exploded next to my ear. I opened my eyes. She was standing over me, hands on her hips, face full of contempt. She grabbed my arm. “Get up and make breakfast. This house doesn’t feed people who don’t work.” My whole body hurt. It was like this every month around my cycle. My lower back locked up. A grinding cramp low in my stomach. Even breathing felt like effort. I pushed myself up on one arm, pulled on a jacket, and got out of bed. “What’s taking so long? Callum’s waiting to eat!” I made breakfast and brought the food to the table. Callum was already seated, scrolling through his phone. He didn’t look up. I set the congee in front of him. He stood up. “What’s wrong?” his mother asked. “I’m not eating.” He was already at the door, picking up his keys. “Serena’s upset. I’m going to check on her.” His mother sat at the table staring at the full spread. Her expression curdled. I stood still. Eyes down. Didn’t move, didn’t speak. Crack. Her palm hit the table. “Look at yourself.” She pointed at me. “Can’t keep a man, takes half the morning to cook a meal he won’t even touch — what are you even here for? You’re deadweight.” When I still didn’t respond, she grabbed a dish off the table and threw it at me. It hit my forehead and split in two. Broth ran down into my eye. “Useless!” She turned and walked out. The broth stung. I blinked. Reached up and wiped my face. My forehead had split open. Blood mixed with the broth, running down. The floor was a mess. I crouched down and started picking up the pieces one by one. When the shards were cleared, I got the cloth and knelt on the floor and wiped up the broth.

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My cousin Lily had been taken by the Black Rock pack. Their alpha, Valeria, had one demand: the head of the Frost Moon war general. I was strapping on my armor, ready to lead the rescue, when my eldest brother Cassian slipped something into my drink. I woke up bound in silver chains on the pack’s ceremonial altar. My three brothers — Cassian, the pack Enforcer; Julian, the Beta Treasurer; Killian, the Sentinel Commander — had once been my greatest shield. Now Julian and Killian pinned me down while Cassian raised a silver-spiked rod, his eyes full of a pain he had no right to own. “Elena, don’t hate us. Lily is too fragile for Black Rock’s dungeons.” The rod came down and shattered my wolf core. Through the agony, I finally understood. They hadn’t come to let me fight. They had come to trade a broken war general for their precious, unscarred girl. — The drug was still bitter on my tongue, blood rising in my throat. “Lily is delicate,” Cassian said, eyes cast down, a faint tremor in his voice — but the hand gripping the rod didn’t waver at all. “She wouldn’t survive the dungeons.” “So I’m the one who suffers for it?” I said, holding his gaze, each word deliberate. Julian crushed my shoulders into the stone, his face turned away. “Elena. We’re doing this for the pack.” Killian held down my legs, her usually warm eyes flat and cold. “You’re the war general. They probably won’t kill you. You’re more useful alive.” “Alive?” I laughed, the sound scraping out of my chest. “This is how you keep me alive.” The rod rose again and fell. The crack of shattering bone was obscenely loud in the silence. Cold sweat soaked through my shirt instantly, darkness eating the edges of my vision. The pain was a tide. It swallowed me whole. Through the blur, I watched Cassian drop the rod and wipe my blood from his face with his sleeve — slow, careful, thorough. He came to the altar and looked down at me. “Sleep, Elena.” His voice was unbearably gentle. “When you wake up, Lily will be home.” I dug my fingers into the stone, pulled every last scrap of air into my lungs, and forced out three words. “Cassian. Ashford.” He went still. Shame flickered across his face before he buried it. I smiled. Blood frothed at the corner of my mouth and stained my lips red. “You will all regret this.” Julian and Killian released me and stepped back behind Cassian. Three faces — same bone structure, same carved-in resolve. Not one of them looked at me again. They turned and left. The bolt slid home the moment the door closed. I had become a prisoner in my own room, a war general who could no longer run. —

They loaded me into a crude iron cage and drove me toward the border — toward the Pale Ridge crossing. My legs had been roughly bandaged, but silver poisoning kept the wounds from closing. Blood soaked through the wrappings and fused with the fabric; every lurch of the road sent a fresh spike of agony up my spine. The guard assigned to transport me was one of Killian’s own men. He kept his head down the entire ride and only passed a water bottle through the bars when my thirst became impossible to hide. “General. Forgive me.” He said it every time. I took the bottle and drank in silence. I had no hatred left for him. I was saving all of it. Seven days later, the cage stopped at Pale Ridge. The handoff was staged in open ground between the two packs’ front lines. Two Black Rock soldiers yanked me from the cage and dropped me in the dirt. I lifted my head and found her — the reason I was here. Lily. She wore clean clothes and a heavy fur-lined coat, cradled at the center of my three brothers like something irreplaceable. Her face was pale but unmarked. Not a scratch. Black Rock’s alpha, Valeria, sat astride her black war-wolf, staring down at me with open contempt. Her pack had been crushed beneath my command — twice. “Elena Ashford.” Her voice carried the pleasure of someone who had waited a long time. “Look at you now.” I didn’t look at her. My gaze pushed past her and locked onto my brothers. Cassian stepped forward and dipped his head toward Valeria. “Alpha Valeria. The exchange is complete. Release Lily now.” His voice carried a careful deference that made my stomach turn. Valeria laughed and pointed her riding crop at me. “This is the Frost Moon war general? Can’t even stand. Pathetic.” Her wolves laughed with her. My brothers’ faces tightened with brief shame, but none of them spoke. They only pulled Lily closer. Lily leaned out from behind Cassian and looked at my shattered legs. Those wide, always-glistening eyes held no guilt — only a bright, unmistakable glint of triumph. She curved her lips at me. Just barely. A silent gloat. A winner’s smile.

Valeria waved her hand and two soldiers released Lily. She gathered her coat and ran straight to my brothers, shaking. “Cassian!” She threw herself into my eldest brother’s arms, trembling like she’d barely survived the end of the world. Cassian stripped off his own fur coat and wrapped it around Lily, murmuring softly. “You’re safe now. We’re going home.” Julian and Killian crowded in, fussing over every detail. “Are you hurt anywhere?” “Those savages didn’t touch you, did they?” Three people formed a wall around one girl, as if she were the most precious thing under the sky. No one looked at me again. I, the one they had broken and used as currency, had become a discarded object the moment the trade was done. Valeria finished savoring the scene and drove her wolf toward me. “Take her.” Two soldiers hauled me up and dragged me forward; my shattered legs carved two red lines through the gravel. As I was pulled past my brothers, I wrenched my head around. “Cassian. Julian. Killian.” All three went rigid at once. The hands sheltering Lily stilled. Lily twisted in Cassian’s arms and smiled at me — wider now, brighter. “You traded Frost Moon’s war general for someone who can’t even howl.” My voice was wrecked, but every word landed. “One day, this pack’s territory will be a graveyard because of what you did today.” Cassian’s face went iron gray. He clenched his fist. Julian’s eyes slid to the ground. Killian’s face — for the first time — showed something close to fear. “Get her out of here!” Cassian nearly screamed it. The soldiers quickened their pace and dragged me behind enemy lines. The border sealed at my back, cutting off everything I’d ever known. They brought me to Valeria’s command tent. She sat in the alpha’s chair and cleaned her riding crop with a silk cloth, unhurried. “Three years ago at the Hollow Gorge, you destroyed ten thousand of my wolves and took my best lieutenant’s head.” She looked up. “I swore that day I’d make you beg for death.” She rose, crossed to me, and used the crop to tilt my chin up. “I kept my promise.”

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I caught my fiancé in bed with my sister on our wedding day, but my parents call me crazy and send me to a mental hospital. Twenty years ago, I found my groom cheating. The woman was my sister and bridesmaid, Sarah. But both families joined forces and locked me in a mental hospital. They said, “She’s crazy! Making up lies about her fiancé and her own sister!” In that place, I was electrocuted. They forced pills down my throat. They tied me up and beat me. I lived like that for twenty years. Twenty years later, I finally got out. My hair turned completely white. My teeth fell out. I looked ancient. Like a seventy-year-old woman. I hid in a nursing home in a small county, working as a caregiver. I thought I’d never see them again. Until one day, my ex-fiancé showed up. He brought a girl with him. His daughter with my sister. They came to visit his mother. When he saw me, he froze. His eyes turned red. He said, “Evelyn?! You’re alive? I’ve been searching for you for so long…” I kept my head down, mopping the floor. I didn’t say a word. I didn’t want to deal with him. The doctor just told me I was sick. Alzheimer’s. Late stage. I had three months left. Three months where I could still remember. After three months, I’d forget everything. All the hatred. Gone. Those twenty years they stole from me. Gone. Before that, I’ll make every single one of them PAY! *** My hands shook as I held the towel. Hot water splashed out, burning my hand. I didn’t feel the pain. Head Caregiver Margo snatched the towel from me. She threw it into the basin hard. Water splashed all over my face. Her voice was sharp and cruel. “Eva, you’re slow as hell!” “Can’t even do this right. What good are you?” I kept my head down. Said nothing. “Hurry up! Next one!” I picked up the towel mechanically and moved to the next bed. That’s when I heard noise at the door. A man in a tailored suit walked in. He held the hand of a girl in a princess dress. The man was handsome and tall. The girl was pretty and cute. They didn’t belong here. This place reeked of disinfectant and old people. I shrank back instinctively, trying to hide. But he still saw me. He froze. He stared at me for ten seconds. Then his eyes turned red. His voice choked up as he called my name. “Evelyn? Is it really you?” My blood turned to ice. I recognized that voice. Marcus. The man who sent me to hell twenty years ago. I lowered my head, scrubbing the floor hard. My voice came out raspy and ugly. “You’ve got the wrong person. My name is Eva.” He rushed over and grabbed my wrist. Hard. It hurt down to the bone. “Evelyn, I know it’s you. Don’t hide from me!” I struggled instinctively. The mop clattered to the floor. The little girl beside him screamed. “Daddy, that old lady is so dirty! She touched me!” Marcus let go of me like I’d burned him. He turned to comfort his daughter. His voice dripped with tenderness. “Good girl, Nina. You’re not dirty. Daddy will take you to wash your hands.” Margo rushed over like the wind. She didn’t even look at me. She bowed and scraped to Marcus. “Mr. Astor, please don’t be angry. This old woman doesn’t know any better.” Then she turned around and slapped me across the face. SMACK. My cheek swelled immediately. “How dare you serve guests like this? Three days’ pay docked!” Marcus frowned and stopped Li from hitting me again. “Forget it. Don’t hit her.” He looked at me. There was guilt in his eyes. “Evelyn, I know it’s you. We’ll talk later.” I didn’t respond. I bent down, picked up the mop, and limped toward the storage room. Behind me, his persistent voice followed. “I’ll come see you every day until you’re willing to talk to me.” I closed the storage room door, shutting out his voice. I leaned against the cold wall, shaking all over. That night, I pulled out a broken tin box from under my bed. Inside was a single piece of paper. My diagnosis. The flashlight beam hit the paper. Those words stabbed my eyes. Alzheimer’s disease. Late stage. The doctor said I had three months left to remember. After three months, I’d forget everything. Forget those twenty years of electroshock, forced medication, and beatings. Forget their ugly faces. Forget the blood debt they owed me. With trembling hands, I wrote the first line on the back of the diagnosis. “Make them all pay!” The next morning, Marcus came back. This time, he wasn’t alone. He brought my biological parents. And my “sister,” Sarah. Marcus held her waist intimately, smiling tenderly at her. I hid behind the storage room door, hands and feet freezing. But I heard my mother’s shrill voice clearly. “This is the nursing home? My crazy daughter is really here?”

I hid in the storage room, palms sweating. The door suddenly slammed open. Margo stood there, looking impatient. “Eva, someone’s here to see you. Get out here!” She grabbed my arm and dragged me out. I was pulled into the hallway. I saw them immediately. My mother wore a mink coat. Her face was full of disgust. My father had a dark expression. His eyes were irritated. Marcus had his arm around Sarah’s waist. When Sarah saw me, she smirked. My mother’s first words cut like a knife. “Evelyn, how did you turn into such a mess? You’re an embarrassment to the Carter family!” I looked at her. My voice was numb. “I don’t know you. Please leave.” My father exploded instantly. He pointed at my nose and yelled. “How dare you talk back? If you hadn’t gone crazy, would we have sent you to the hospital?” Sarah pretended to play peacemaker. “Dad, don’t be angry. Evelyn might still be sick. Let’s not provoke her.” She said it sweetly, but her eyes mocked me. Marcus joined in. “That’s right. Evelyn suffered all these years. We should compensate her.” My mother sneered. “She’s insane. Taking care of her is mercy enough. Compensation? Nonsense. Sarah, don’t be like her—crazy and annoying.” Margo very perceptively brought over tea. She shoved the tray into my hands and ordered. “Pour tea for the guests, you useless thing!” My hands shook as I picked up the teapot. I was trembling so badly that tea spilled everywhere. Sarah suddenly reached out. She “accidentally” bumped my wrist. Scalding tea splashed onto my hand. The pain made me gasp. But Sarah screamed and jumped back. “Evelyn, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” She turned and hid behind Marcus, looking pitiful. “Honey, I’m scared. Is Evelyn having an episode again?” Marcus immediately grabbed her hand and soothed her. Then he looked at me with reproach. “Sarah, Evelyn’s emotionally unstable. Don’t take it personally.” His hand gently touched Sarah’s head. That gesture was as tender as how he used to touch me twenty years ago. My heart felt like it was being stabbed. My mother suddenly spoke again. “Next week is Sarah’s birthday party. Evelyn, you should come.” She used a condescending tone. “Toast your sister and apologize. Then we’ll let this whole thing go.” Her words made me laugh. I looked at her and said each word clearly. “I will not go.” My father’s face darkened immediately. His voice was threatening. “You’re going whether you like it or not. Now that you’re out, you need to apologize publicly to save face. So you WILL apologize in front of everyone!” After they left, I went back to the storage room alone. The burn on my hand had blistered badly. There was a broken mirror in the corner. I looked at myself. All white hair. No teeth. Wrinkles everywhere. I looked like a seventy-year-old woman. I suddenly laughed. I laughed until tears came. They wanted me at Sarah’s party? Perfect. I’d make it a celebration no one would ever forget!

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At the welcome party, a wolfsbane-laced arrow tore through my shoulder and buried itself close to my heart. Before the healers could act, the healer on duty looked between the two men who had rushed in and asked for next-of-kin to authorize emergency treatment. Both men shoved forward at the same time, nearly coming to blows. One was my mate. One was my brother. “I’ll authorize — but first you consents to the severance. Say the words in front of me, Elaine. Wren needs to hear the bond is broken before she’ll calm down.” “Authorize it or don’t. I’m authorizing.” “Elaine.” Cole’s voice dropped. “All you have to do is swear before the Pack that you won’t pursue the arrow incident. Wren panicked after you cornered her. It wasn’t intentional.” I laughed, though it cost me everything I had left. I used my last thread of strength to pull the healer close. “Don’t treat me.” Alive or not, it didn’t really matter anymore. …… The argument outside the infirmary doors wasn’t about who had the right to authorize as next of kin. It wasn’t about the fact that I was bleeding out and needed treatment immediately. Evan Holt and Cole Voss stood on either side of the gurney. Each had planted a hand on one of the wheels, stopping it from rolling forward. The infirmary doors were one step away, and yet they might as well have been across an ocean. I was never going to make it through. The arrow that had entered my right shoulder was no ordinary piece. It was wolfsbane-laced, barbed, fitted with five curved hooks along the shaft. It had driven clean through my body and come to rest near my left shoulder, dangerously close to my heart. The healer was sweating through his clothes. He knew better than anyone what every passing second was costing me. With wolfsbane flooding my bloodstream, my body’s ability to heal itself had been stripped away completely. He opened his mouth to intervene, and nearly got himself destroyed by both men at once. Miserable as it was, no matter how much his healer’s instincts screamed at him, there was nothing he could do. This was Holt Pack territory. No one dared act against the next Alpha’s will. Evan wanted me to speak the words of severance to dissolve our bond before the Pack’s law made it binding. Cole wanted me to swear a public oath of pardon, witnessed and irreversible. Both of them were waiting for me to open my mouth. Like a competition, each desperate to hear his demand from my lips first. So they could run back to Wren and claim their prize. Looking at the two of them looming over me, I smiled — weak, hollow. Then I asked them something that had nothing to do with any of it. “Tonight you threw a welcome party for Wren.” “Why did it have to be tonight?” It could have been a day earlier. A day later. To them, the number was meaningless either way. So why did it have to be tonight? The wolfsbane was spreading. Every word I spoke drove the hooks deeper. But I lied to myself anyway. One more gamble. Just one more. Maybe — maybe one of them still remembered what today was. Evan said nothing. Cole’s fist dropped to his side, clenching and unclenching. A million shades of impatience. “We wanted Wren to be happy. That’s all there is to it.” “Can you stop stalling? What’s the point?” The laughter from that party. The blinding lights. The way my mate and my brother had smiled — warm, indulgent, unguarded. That was what broke me. I had stormed the party. Torn apart every moment of it. Everyone called me feral. Evan and Cole had stepped in front of Wren, shielding her with their bodies. “If you want to lose control, do it somewhere else! Stop embarrassing yourself!” I looked straight at Wren’s triumphant face. “You planned this, didn’t you?” “How pathetic.” She turned to face them without missing a beat, her expression collapsing into grief. “Why — why would she say that to me.” “Is it wrong to want to be with the people I love?” Both men’s ears went faintly red at being claimed so openly. “I thought I finally had a family. Why does she still reject me — why!” After that, using her breakdown as cover, she raised the ceremonial bow and loosed the wolfsbane-laced arrow straight at me. Even as the poison tore through my shoulder, Evan pinned me down. He was afraid I’d lunge at her. Afraid I’d hurt the one he treasured. He looked at me, and his eyes were full of disappointment. “Why.” “When did you become this kind of person.” “Disgusting.” When they lifted me onto the gurney, Wren insisted on coming to see me. What she actually did was lean close to my ear and laugh, soft and quiet. “Elaine. Today was actually a celebration for you.” “One year since yours and Evan’s pup died.” “It’s a shame they’ve both forgotten. Only I remembered — you should be thanking me.” I couldn’t lift my hand anymore. So I used the last thing I had left and bit down on her ear. Evan nearly crushed my jaw getting me off her. And that became the justification they used now, pressing me to speak the words, for why I deserved everything that was happening to me.

It sounds almost funny, looking back. Wren Voss was my twin, the sister who had been seized by a rival Pack at birth and only recently returned to us. Our parents had spent half their lives tracking her down. They died still searching, and from their deathbeds they made Cole and me swear an oath. If we ever found her, we would spend the rest of our lives making it up to her. When we finally brought Wren home, that was exactly what I intended to do. She had suffered so much. I would give her everything I had. But she looked at me with hostility from the very first moment. In the beginning, Evan had seen it clearly enough. Every time I asked him to come with me to visit the Voss house, he’d drag his feet — sullen and reluctant, needing three rounds of coaxing before he’d agree. And when we got there and Wren was in the room, he wouldn’t spare her a glance. “Baby, I’m not going to waste a good mood on someone who doesn’t like my mate.” Cole caught in the middle, always awkward, always smoothing things over. Then somewhere along the way, it became — “Elaine, Cole and I are taking Wren on a run through the Cascades for a few days. You’ve been through that territory so many times — maybe just stay home this trip?” “You know how sensitive she is. She’s always felt like you don’t like her. You’ve been too hard on her — if you come, she won’t be able to enjoy herself.” “Cole feels the same way. He didn’t want to upset you, so he asked me to say it.” “I honestly don’t understand you. You got a sister back — that should be a good thing. But you act like you’d rather she’d never been found.” “If Wren hadn’t told me, I never would have believed you’d been treating her like that in private. Telling her to go back where she came from.” “I’m leaving. Think about what you’re doing.” When Evan walked out, his eyes were full of the same disappointment he always wore when he looked at me now. I held myself together anyway. I didn’t pull all four of them into a room and demand Wren explain exactly how I had supposedly mistreated her in private. Let it go. Don’t ruin the mood. Just endure it. It’ll pass. I never forgot the oath my parents had made me swear alone, separate from Cole’s. Wren had suffered. I had been given twenty years she hadn’t. I owed her. If I couldn’t give way for her, my parents would never forgive me. These were small things. What did it cost me to give way? Then one day, I walked in and found her in bed with Evan. The blood drained from my body. The room tilted. I was beyond rage. I slapped her across the face. What came back was one slap from Evan, and one from Cole, who had come running at the sound. Cole was the angriest. “Wren told me from the beginning — that you’d been tormenting her in secret, shutting her out, making sure she never got any of my attention. I didn’t believe her.” “Guess today you finally showed your real face.” “She survived twenty years of suffering and finally made it home, and the first thing she gets is a sister like you. Elaine — aren’t you afraid of what Mom and Dad would think if they could see this?” “If I could go back — I’d rather it had been you they took.” I stood there and couldn’t move. The tears wouldn’t stop. Evan was holding Wren, murmuring gently, calming her down. He glanced at my tears, his expression completely cold. “Stop crying.” “Wren isn’t crying. What gives you the right.” “The bond between us was never real — I see that now. We were placed together young and I mistook closeness for fate.” “If it had been you who was taken and came back — I still wouldn’t have bonded with someone like you.” “So don’t blame Wren.” “She did nothing wrong.” “I should be grateful I finally saw who you really are.” I watched Wren’s eyes find mine — that flicker of victory she couldn’t quite hide — and suddenly I understood. She didn’t love Evan. She didn’t love Cole. She just hated me. She hated that it hadn’t been me who was taken. She hated that I’d had twenty years she hadn’t. My pain was the only thing that made her happy. And she had the most powerful weapon in the world, their guilt. I had no right to fight back. So on that day, I lost my mate and my brother at the same time.

If tonight hadn’t happened, I probably would never have seen the two of them argue over me again. Though the old arguments were about who got to spend time with me. Now they were arguing over which oath they could press out of me first — so they could get back to Wren faster. Both their phones went off at the same time. “Evan. Cole.” Her voice came through the speaker, trembling. “I’m so scared. The blood got on me and I can’t get it off—” “I wanted to come with her when they put her on the gurney, but Elaine said the moment she recovered she’d kill me first. I don’t know what to do. I really didn’t mean to hurt her. I’m so worried about her—” She cried herself breathless, then caught herself — put on a show of pulling it together, just in time for the two men on the other end of the line who were already aching to shift and run back to her. “Sometimes I think Elaine is so lucky. Evan and Cole care about her so much. I don’t have anything. And whenever I get even a little — she finds a way to take it back.” “It’s okay. You don’t have to rush back. I’ll be fine on my own—” “I’m going to prepare a hundred arrows for when I accidentally hurt Elaine. She said when she recovers she wants every one of them loosed into me. If that’s what it takes to make her feel better, then that’s what I’ll do.” By the time the call ended, both Evan’s and Cole’s expressions had gone dark enough to draw blood. Cole was the first to break. Without any warning, he wrapped his hand around my throat. “Why. Just — why.” “Why can’t you just let Wren be?” “It was an accident. A hundred arrows — do you want her dead?” “Elaine Voss. How did I end up with a sister like you? How did our bloodline produce something like you?” The pressure shifted the arrow inside me. The hooks turned. The wolfsbane surged with every movement, coursing deeper through my veins. This was no ordinary ceremonial arrow. I choked up blood. Evan reached over and stopped Cole’s hand. “Calm down.” “Were you actually going to choke her out?” Something in my chest, something that had already gone cold and dark — flickered with a secret, shameful hope. Maybe. Maybe he still couldn’t let go of me. Maybe his wolf still recognized mine. “If you kill her now, she can’t speak the oaths.” “Were you planning to go back to Wren or not?” “If she dies here, Wren will blame herself. You want her carrying that for the rest of her life?” Once he’d talked Cole down, Evan finally spared me a glance. I was still coughing up blood. It had spread across half my face. The blood was clotting in my throat, and every cough dragged the hooks further, the wolfsbane burning through every attempt my body made to close the wound. Over and over. Relentless. He frowned. His voice went flat. “Enough.” “Stop performing.” “Is that a blood pack you’re hiding?” “I inspected those arrows with Wren myself. They’re thin. Flexible. She’s a kind girl — she specifically ordered them that way so no one would get seriously hurt.” “The impact drove it into your shoulder, that’s all. Your wolf should be able to handle a graze like that.” “Stop being so dramatic. We’re not idiots.”

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My friend and I had just finished dinner and were about to leave. Someone suddenly stopped us, insisting that I pay the bill for another table. I refused, saying I didn’t know them. The woman immediately exploded. “Damn it! You should be honored to pay the bill for me! How dare you disrespect the Smith Group? You’ve got a death wish!” Before I could say anything, she grew even more arrogant. “Do you know who I am? I’m Henry Smith’s wife! He’s the chairman of the Smith Group! Scared now?” I froze for a moment, then dialed Henry calmly. “I hear you have another wife at the company?” *** The moment I hung up, that woman was completely enraged. She snatched my phone and smashed it onto the floor. “How dare you call for help? You’re not walking out of this restaurant today!” “Stop!” My childhood friend, Alice White, pulled me behind her. “So this is how employees from the Smith Group behave? Stopping strangers to force them to pay and then getting physical?” The woman’s face flushed red from Alice’s words. “Yeah. What? In Metrocity, Smith Group is everything!” “It’s an honor for you to pay my bill. Do you understand?” “You want to talk rules? My words are the rules!” I laughed out loud and looked up at Karen. “The Smith Group trained you to rob people like that?” Karen snorted and shouted like a shrew, “Letting you pay is giving you a chance to climb up the ladder! Lots of people would kill for such a chance, you know?” Climb up the ladder? Since when did the Waynes need to cling to anyone in Metrocity? I glanced at my friend’s darkening expression. She was from a top family from Lordecity. She never imagined she’d get bullied like this by a poor employee from the Smith Group in Metrocity. Karen sneered and waved toward the entrance. “Listen up. In Metrocity, I make the rules! Grab these two idiots!” As soon as she finished speaking, several bodyguards in black suits rushed in and surrounded us. Alice instinctively pulled me behind her. But there were too many of them. Before she could act, two bodyguards seized her arms. “Alice!” I tried to rush forward, but something struck the back of my neck. My vision went black. Through the haze, I saw Alice struggle and curse. Then someone punched her hard in the side of the face and blood instantly seeped from the corner of her mouth. I was pressed to the ground and could only watch as Karen lifted her foot and kicked Alice in the stomach. “You dare meddle in my business? Today I’ll let you know the consequence of messing with the Smith Group!” Then her bodyguards started hitting me. Alice had only come out to have fun, yet she was dragged into this absurd mess. I shouted hoarsely, “Karen, I’m Henry’s legally married wife!” I pointed at Alice, who was pinned beside me. “And she’s Alice White from the White family in Lordecity! Release us now, and we’ll let this slide!” Karen froze for a second, and then she burst out laughing. “You’re Henry’s wife? She’s from the White family? Have you gone crazy or something?” The people at her table all laughed along. “Everyone knows Chairman Henry’s wife is Ms. Karen.” “How dare she bluff like that?” “The White family? Lordecity? I’ve never even heard of them. She’s probably just making it up to scare us.” Karen bent down and grabbed my hair. “Say one more word about being his wife, and I’ll rip your mouth apart.” “I’m his wife. You’re definitely not.” “Don’t you dare say that again, understand?” Alice was pinned to the ground with blood at the corner of her mouth. Yet she still chose to mock me. “Lily, this is hilarious.” “The mistress thinks she is the legal wife and is beating the real legal wife up.” Her words stunned me for a second, then I laughed too. Karen was still gripping my hair. I suddenly jerked my head and bit down hard on her wrist. She screamed in pain, and her grip instantly loosened. Using that moment, I drove my knee hard into the crotch of the bodyguard behind me. As he doubled over in pain, I grabbed a beer bottle nearby and smashed it into another bodyguard’s forehead. By the time Karen reacted, I was already in front of her. My clenched fist was slamming into her face. The sudden counterattack stunned her. She staggered back two steps, blood immediately pouring from her nose. “You bitch! How dare you?” Karen shouted in shock and rage. She reached for my face, but I grabbed her arm and slammed her to the ground. I straddled her and threw punch after punch. The Smith Group employees panicked. Reeking of alcohol, they rushed over to pull me away. “How dare you hit Ms. Karen? You crazy bitch!” At some point, Alice had also broken free. She kicked away the person lunging at her and yelled at me, “Damn it, beat the crap out of her! I’ve never been humiliated like this in my life!” In the chaos, someone grabbed a chair and smashed it into my back. I let out a muffled groan but didn’t stop. Karen screamed as she was beaten. She clawed desperately at my hair. “Everyone! Kill her! I’ll take the responsibility—triple bonus!” The employees surged forward like maniacs, grabbing my arms, clutching my waist, even kicking the backs of my legs. Taking advantage of the struggle, Karen suddenly kicked me hard in the stomach. I stumbled back two steps. Just as I was about to charge again, a voice rang out from the restaurant entrance. “Everyone, stop right now!”

Two people in police uniforms squeezed their way in. When they saw the mess all over the floor, they frowned. But when their eyes landed on Karen, who was lying on the ground with a swollen, bruised face, their expressions changed instantly. “Ms. Karen? What are you doing here? What happened?” One chubby police officer hurried over. He reached out to help Karen up. When Karen saw the police, it was as if she had found her backing. She pointed at me and Alice and started shouting. “Peter! These bitches had gone crazy! First they refused to pay the bill, then they even assaulted us! Look at what they did to me, and my employees too. We were all injured by them!” The chubby officer glanced at the injuries on us and didn’t take them seriously at all. Instead, he put on a stern face and shouted at us. “Who are you two? How dare you cause trouble here? And you even dared to hurt people from the Smith Group? You’ve got some nerve!” Alice said, “She asked us to pay her bill for no reason and attacked us first.” “Nonsense!” Karen cut her off immediately. “I was being kind and trying to make friends with them. I only asked them to pay the bill for me. They turned hostile right away and even pretended to be my husband’s wife and someone from the White family in Lordecity.” The chubby officer clearly believed her. He pointed at the shattered beer bottles and overturned tables on the floor. “No matter what, you beat her into this state and smashed up the restaurant. That means you’re in the wrong!” “Let me tell you, in Metrocity, nobody dares to disrespect the Smith Group?” “Ms. Karen is right under Chairman Henry. Disrespecting her means disrespecting the Smith Group. You’re going against the rules of the entire city!” The other, thinner officer had already taken out his handcuffs and waved them. “Enough talk. Come back to the station with us first.” “Oh, and the bill for Ms. Karen’s table, the restaurant’s damages, medical costs, and emotional distress. You two will cover it all.” “Then you gotta kneel down and apologize to Ms. Karen. Maybe this can still be settled privately.” I laughed in anger. “On what grounds? She started the trouble. You don’t even bother to find out the facts before convicting us?” “On what grounds?” The chubby officer waved his hand impatiently. “Because you’re outsiders! Since you’re here, you follow the rules here. Ms. Karen was being nice to let you pay her bill. Don’t be ungrateful!” Alice sneered. “You mean Metrocity’s so-called rules can override the national law?” The thin officer stepped forward and reached for me with the handcuffs. “Heh, still talking tough? Looks like you haven’t learned your lesson!” I dodged him. He flew into a rage, suddenly pulled out a stun baton, and turned it on. He jabbed the stun baton toward me and said, “So you want it the hard way? You’re asking for this!” The electric current shot through my limbs. My whole body went numb, and I nearly collapsed. Alice reacted quickly and caught me. She shouted at the police. “How dare you abuse your power?” “Abuse of power?” The chubby officer also pulled out a stun baton and aimed it at Alice. “I’m carrying out official duties. In Metrocity, anything involving the Smith Group is a big deal. People like you who don’t know their place need to be punished!” Alice let out a muffled groan as she was shocked. A burnt smell filled the air. “A bunch of damn fools! You’ll regret this one day…” “Regret?” The chubby officer laughed even harder. He lifted Alice’s chin with his baton. “I won’t regret anything, but you will, when you’re both locked up and getting beaten every day.” He turned to Karen with an ingratiating smile. “Ms. Karen, is this enough? If not, just tell us what we should do.” Karen watched from the side with satisfaction. “Beat them. They need to learn who really calls the shots here.” The chubby officer kicked me once and then bent over toward Karen again. “Ms. Karen, can you give us a hint? About when is your due date?” “We wanna prepare some gifts to congratulate you and Chairman Henry.” The thin officer nodded eagerly as well. “Exactly. Please honor us then and let us share the joy.” “Maybe Chairman Henry can help promote us somehow.” When they mentioned this, Karen smiled. “Four or five months more. It’s a boy.” Karen was pregnant? When I heard that, my mind went completely blank. I had been away on a business trip for half a year and had only just returned to Metrocity. And Henry already got her pregnant? My blood rushed to my head. I had been married to Henry for two years. He always used being busy with work as an excuse to put off having a child. I struggled to get up. When the thin officer saw me still trying to move, he jabbed the stun baton straight into the back of my neck. The electric shock made my vision go black. I nearly collapsed onto the floor. Seeing this, Karen casually grabbed a stool and raised it, about to smash it down on my head. At that moment, the sound of hurried leather shoes rang out from the restaurant entrance.

When Henry swept his gaze over the wreckage on the floor, he didn’t even frown. But when his eyes landed on Karen, his tone softened a little. “What happened? Who hurt you?” Karen immediately put on a wronged expression. “Henry, you’re finally here. These two have gone crazy. One pretended to be your wife, and they assaulted us. They even dared to attack the police!” The chubby officer hurried over. “Chairman Henry, you came at the perfect time! These two outsiders were causing trouble. They even insulted you and Ms. Karen. We’re handling it.” Henry’s gaze finally fell on me, as if he were looking at something filthy. “Lily, I really underestimated you. You were away on a business trip for half a year, and now you’ve grown bold enough to fight with others?” He then glanced at Alice. “And look at the trashy friends you make. How dare you come to Metrocity to cause trouble?” I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and said, “Henry, let me ask you something. Karen claims she’s your wife. And why was she asking me to pay for her bill?” Henry went silent for a while and then turned to the chubby officer. “Officer Peter, what exactly happened?” The chubby officer paused for a second and then put on a look of righteous indignation. “Chairman Henry, it was really outrageous!” “It’s all her fault! The moment she walked in, she started shouting at Ms. Karen, saying she looked familiar. She insisted on paying for Ms. Karen’s bill, trying to make friends with her.” He pointed at me and continued, “Ms. Karen declined. But this woman kept bothering Ms. Karen. She said Ms. Karen was disrespecting her. Then she started bragging about how rich she was.” The thin officer added, “Yeah! We already checked it out. The waiter can testify too!” “Ms. Karen declined, and this woman suddenly snapped. She said Ms. Karen wasn’t respecting her. She even cursed Ms. Karen, saying she wasn’t worthy of you or the Smith Group!” “Ms. Karen couldn’t take it and argued back. That’s when she started hitting people!” Alice was so angry that veins bulged on her forehead. “This is completely twisting the truth! It was clearly her…” The chubby officer suddenly shouted, “Shut up!” “Stop twisting the fact! If you hadn’t been fanning the flames, saying Ms. Karen didn’t deserve it, would things have escalated?” Karen covered her mouth and coughed. “Henry, I know she might have wanted to get on good terms with me, but her way was too…” “I just didn’t let her pay my bill, and she lost her temper. She even said she’d ruin the Smith Group and make us regret it…” Henry’s face turned completely cold. “Lily, I never imagined you could be this outrageous.” “I can understand why you wanna cozy up with Karen. But you shouldn’t assault people after being rejected!” He didn’t wanna hear my explanation. His voice was filled with disappointment. “I think this half year on business trips has damaged your brain.” “How dare you start assaulting people like that? Lily, can you have even a shred of dignity?” “I didn’t…” I had just opened my mouth when he cut me off harshly. “You didn’t? The police have already told me everything. And you still want to argue?” Henry pointed at my nose. “You’re truly beyond saving. You ‘re used to living off others. Trying to latch onto everyone you see. When you get rejected, you go crazy. How did I ever end up marrying you?” Karen pretended to persuade him. “Henry, don’t get so angry. She might have just been confused…” “Confused?” Henry turned to the police. “I think it’s her nature. Officer Peter, handle it however it should be handled. Not a single cent less in compensation!” “I really wanna know how she is gonna pay!” I looked at how confident he sounded, and felt kinda disappointed. So in his eyes, I had already become such a despicable person. I stared at Henry’s indifferent face and suddenly laughed. “Fine. You want compensation, right? So, how much?” Henry looked at me as if he had just heard some joke. He sized me up from head to toe and then said, “Five million! Do you have that much? I don’t think you can even come up with ten grand, do you?” Alice didn’t answer him. She just took out her phone. “Five million, right?” I pressed my lips together and looked at Alice. “Send a message to my dad too. My phone was smashed.” Karen and the police started laughing at us. “Keep pretending!” “You can get five million? In your dreams!” The chubby officer came closer with handcuffs. “Stop wasting time here! Put your hands out and come back to the station with us!” The thin officer stepped forward directly and reached for my arm. “You want it the hard way, so let’s do it the hard way.” Alice shifted to stand in front of me. “What’s the rush? The money will be here any second.” Karen laughed even louder. “Really? Can your dad bring so much money? I seriously doubt it!” The employees behind her joined in the laughter, and the restaurant filled with mockery. The chubby officer impatiently shoved Alice. “Enough! If you don’t comply now, I’ll stop being so nice!” Just as he raised his hand to cuff Alice, a deafening roar suddenly came from overhead. Immediately after, the ground began to tremble slightly. Alice and I both looked toward the restaurant entrance. “They’re here.”

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Seven years ago, my parents’ adopted daughter—my younger sister Madeline Archer—committed a hit-and-run while driving drunk. My parents. My biological sister. They all said the same thing to me. “Madeline has a heart condition. She can’t go to prison. Nora, please.” I didn’t agree. Then one night, deep into the dark, they put me in the back of a police car with their own hands. And my fiancé, Connor Ashford—the hedge fund titan who owned half of New York—he arranged everything. He said— “Nora, when you get out, I’ll marry you. Just get through these seven years.” … Seven years later. “Vance. Live your life out there. Don’t look back.” I took the faded canvas bag from the corrections officer’s hands. Bowed once. Walked out of Bedford Hills Correctional Facility with a limp. A black Cadillac Escalade was already waiting. The window rolled down. Connor Ashford’s sharp, handsome features emerged. “Nora.” Seven years. He hadn’t changed at all. I dropped my gaze without thinking. Got in the car. The rearview mirror threw back the reflection of a gaunt, scarred face. “Seven years. You’ve suffered enough. I’m keeping my promise. I’m marrying you.” Connor reached for my thin, brittle hand. I looked at the hollowed-out woman staring back at me in his eyes. Slowly pulled my hand free. Felt nothing. “Mm.” Seven years locked away. Two thousand five hundred eighty-nine days and nights. More than enough time to see Connor and my family for what they really were. They didn’t love me. And I didn’t want to marry him anymore. Connor caught my coldness. His reflex was to explain. “Madeline knew you were coming home today. It brought back everything from the accident seven years ago. Her anxiety flared up again. Your parents and your sister are at the hospital with her right now.” I listened in silence. Closed my eyes. Twenty-five years ago, I got lost in a shopping mall. I was two. My mother couldn’t bear the grief, so she went to a Catholic adoption agency and adopted Madeline Archer—a girl who looked like me. When I was fifteen, my parents found me. But they didn’t love me. Everything was about making way for Madeline. Seven years ago, they made me take Madeline’s place in prison. Compared to Madeline, I was the one who seemed like the adopted child. The whole drive, cars parted for Connor’s Escalade like it was a royal procession. An hour later, we reached the Archers’ townhouse on the Upper East Side. Only the housekeeper and staff were inside. They glanced at me with flat, indifferent eyes. A nod. Then back to their work. My parents loved Madeline. Not me. Their biological daughter. To the staff, I was just someone who existed in this house. Expendable. “Mr. Ashford. You’re here.” The housekeeper greeted Connor with careful deference first. Only then turned to me. “Miss Vance. Madam hopes you’ll keep outings to a minimum after you return.” Keep outings to a minimum. I served time for Madeline. So how did I become the one who had to hide? But I’d stopped expecting anything from them seven years ago. That night they put me in the police car. “Got it.” I moved toward the door. Connor’s phone rang. He took the call. Hung up. Turned to me. “Nora. Madeline had another episode. She needs me. I’m going to check on her. You just got back—rest. I’ll come see you tomorrow.” Then he was gone. Didn’t hesitate. I watched his back disappear. Limped down to my room in the basement. Pushed the door open. Dust everywhere. The sheets were a crumpled mess. No one had touched this place in a long time. I was too exhausted to care. Walked in. Collapsed onto the bed. Night. Half-asleep, I heard voices from the living room. My biological younger sister. Sophia Archer. “Dad. Mom. Madeline’s condition is this serious. Maybe we should have Nora move out. Every time Madeline sees her, it triggers an episode.” My father sighed. Said nothing. My mother spoke. “She is still an Archer daughter. If we kick her out, what will people say?” “Then what? We can’t keep Madeline in the hospital forever.” Sophia again. My father’s voice this time. “Here’s what we’ll do. When Madeline comes home, Nora stays out of her sight. She stays in her room.” I heard every word. My eyes burned. That’s when my phone buzzed. I picked it up. An encrypted email. “Ms. Eleanor Vance, congratulations. You have been accepted to Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory.” “Upon acceptance, you will assume a new identity and deploy with the research team to Thule Air Base, Greenland, in ten days. You will participate in the Arctic Climate Research Project.” “From that point forward, your identity will be fully classified. For five years, you will have no contact with anyone outside the program.” I read every line of the confidentiality agreement. Signed my name without hesitation. Eleanor Vance.

Seven years ago, I’d already gotten early admission to MIT. Double major. Atmospheric Science and Nuclear Engineering. The cruel part? Before I could decide whether to accept the offer, my biological parents sent me to prison. Seven years inside. I saw everything clearly. Near the end of my sentence, I retook the national lab selection exams. Not long after I sent the email, a reply came. “Ten days. December 10th. A security vehicle will pick you up at 9 p.m. sharp.” Ten days. I closed my eyes again. Ten more days. Then I could leave this house that never loved me. Forever. The next morning. Noise from the living room woke me. I blinked my way awake. Washed up. Walked out. Madeline was back. She sat on the couch in a white dress. Like some kind of socialite. My father. My mother. My biological sister Sophia. My fiancé Connor. All circled around her. The housekeeper brought out a red velvet cake. Everyone spoke in unison. “Happy birthday, Madeline.” Happiness pooled in her eyes. “Thank you, Dad. Mom. Sis. Connor.” Then she added, “I just got out of the hospital. Did anyone get me presents?” My parents and sister handed over their gifts one by one. Connor was about to give his when he spotted me coming up from the basement. “Nora. You’re awake. Come here. Celebrate Madeline’s birthday with us.” He waved me over. Didn’t notice my parents’ and sister’s faces shift. Madeline called out to me sweetly. “Sis. I’m sorry. I was sick yesterday, so I couldn’t pick you up when you got out. You’re not mad, right?” Sis. Before I could answer, Connor spoke for me. “Nora won’t hold that against you.” Madeline took Connor’s hand. Said to me— “Sis. It’s my birthday. Give me a birthday present. I want Connor.” She laid her filthy intentions out that bluntly. And no one in the room said a word. They just waited for my answer. I’d never seen anyone that shameless. My fists clenched. “And if I’m not willing?” Madeline’s face stiffened. She suddenly said something in German. A music term. “Such a dissonant note.” My mother echoed in German. “Don’t be upset, Madeline. Eleanor is just… talking to her is like playing the piano to a cow.” My father joined in. “Don’t bother with her, Madeline. No matter what, your mother and I only consider you our real daughter.” My sister Sophia followed in German. “Yeah. Sis. You’re my only sister.” What a family. I pretended I didn’t understand. Turned to Connor. “What are they talking about?” Connor’s eyes were deep. His lips moved. “Madeline said she was joking. Everyone’s telling you not to overthink.” Not to overthink. I don’t know how Connor and my family managed to lie to my face without flinching. They had no idea. I understood every word. My mother was a renowned pianist with the New York Philharmonic. My father made his name on Wall Street in his prime. From the moment they found me at that church adoption agency, they believed I’d never received a proper education. So all their attention went to their adopted daughter. Madeline. Ten years ago, Madeline and I applied to college at the same time. Madeline got into Juilliard. Massive celebration. None of them knew I’d been accepted to MIT. That I’d taught myself German. French too. Italian. But none of that mattered anymore. Because soon I’d be leaving this house of lies. And the liar Connor. “I just got out. Haven’t had a chance to see New York yet. I’m heading out. You all carry on.” I limped away under the indifferent stares of my family and the staff. Behind me, my parents and sister kept talking in German. Didn’t bother to hide it. They all forgot. Today was my birthday too.

I left the Archer house and took the subway to Brooklyn. Felony record. Academic credentials wiped. A body that didn’t work right anymore. I could only find part-time work washing dishes. Just to survive the next ten days. It’s laughable. After I came back to the Archer family at fifteen— The only money they ever gave me was five hundred dollars. The first month. After that, they decided I wasn’t as impressive as Madeline. Stopped caring about their biological daughter entirely. I worked. Took out loans. Paid my own tuition. Fed myself. Eleven-thirty at night. Last dish washed. I walked out of the restaurant alone. Saw Connor stepping out of a Maybach. Walking toward me. “Nora. Where have you been all this time?” Before I could speak— He pulled me toward the car. Opened the door. On the seat sat a beautiful strawberry cream cake. “Happy birthday, Nora.” I froze. The Ashfords and the Archers. Old family friends. Neighbors. Connor and I had been betrothed since before I was born. Even when I went missing at two, even when I was found at fifteen—that engagement never changed. I still remember. The first person I saw when I came back to the Archer house was Connor. White button-down. Standing in the sunlight. He glowed. Connor was the third son in the Ashford family. The housekeeper told me to call him “Connor.” I called him that for five years. In the Archer house, Connor was the only one who didn’t treat me like I was beneath him. He stood up for me when people bullied me. Gave me gifts on every holiday. He was the only person in New York City who was good to me. That kindness made me fall for him. Hopelessly. Irreversibly. I made him my redemption. My anchor. When a rival went after him, I didn’t even hesitate. I gave him one of my kidneys. And in the end, he was the one who arranged my seven-year prison sentence. “Nora? What’s wrong? You thought I forgot your birthday?” Connor’s voice pulled me back. I answered. Flat. “Thanks.” Connor pulled out another gift box from the back seat. “Open it.” I lifted the lid. Inside lay a hand-stitched ivory wedding gown. “You told me when you were little that you wanted to wear white to marry me. I had it made in advance. Do you like it?” His voice was soft. Connor was probably the only person in this world who would give me a wedding dress. My throat tightened. I murmured— “Connor. You remembered wrong. I don’t like wedding dresses. And I don’t like white.” The nuns at the orphanage told me they found me outside a bridal boutique. I was wearing an expensive navy-blue dress. So once I was old enough to remember things, I’d linger outside bridal shops. I made a habit of wearing blue. All kinds of blue. Hoping my parents would find me. Connor paused. Ran his hand over my hair. The same way he did seven years ago. “I’m sorry. I remembered wrong. I’ll have a new one made right away. Come on. Let’s go to a restaurant. Celebrate your birthday.” In the car. Driving back. A fine rain was falling. Connor kept a tight grip on my hand. “Nora. How are you thinner than seven years ago? And your leg—” He didn’t finish. His phone rang. I saw the name on the screen. Madeline. Connor took the call. Whatever was said on the other end, panic filled his eyes. He barked at the driver— “Back to the Archer house.” The driver turned around. The whole way, Connor kept texting Madeline. When we got back— Madeline stood on the rooftop terrace. White dress. Pale face. She saw me and Connor arrive. Murmured— “Dad. Mom. Sis. Connor. My sister’s back. It’s time for me to step aside. Goodbye.” Then she jumped. Three stories down.

The Archer townhouse was four stories total. Rooftop to ground. Maybe twelve meters. But when Madeline jumped, my parents, my sister, Connor—they all lunged toward her. That night. The sound of sirens filled the Archer house. After they all left for the hospital— I limped back down to my basement room. Lay on the bed. Checked my phone. December 2nd. 12:13 a.m. Connor broke his promise. Didn’t celebrate my birthday with me. But I didn’t hurt the way I used to. Closed my eyes. Slept. Eight days left. Eight days and the lab people would come take me away. … The next five days, I kept my routine. Work. My parents and sister stayed at Mount Sinai Hospital taking care of Madeline. Didn’t come home. Then one day. The restaurant TV played the news. “Ashford Capital CEO Connor Ashford and Archer family daughter Madeline Archer announce engagement.” My pupils tightened. That night, I got home. My parents. My sister. Madeline. All back. Connor was there too. My mother started in French. “Home this late. No concept of time at all.” My father shot her a look. She adjusted her tone. “Nora. You’re finally back. The whole family’s been waiting for you.” My father spoke. “Nora. The doctors say Madeline’s anxiety is getting worse. So we made the decision for you. We’ve transferred your engagement to Madeline. I hope you can understand.” I listened to them finish. My eyes full of contempt. They’d already made the decision for me. Now they wanted my feelings. I looked at Connor. Asked what I already knew. “Connor. Did you agree to this too?” Connor stood up from the couch. Walked over. Took my hand. “Madeline’s only wish right now is to marry me. Don’t worry. I won’t let you down. I’ll only go through the wedding ceremony with her. Just to give her what she wants.” You’re marrying someone else. How is that not letting me down? I pulled my hand away. “Fine. Whatever you’ve decided.” Connor heard my words. Something tightened in his chest. He tried to explain. But Madeline, sitting between my parents, spoke first. “Sis. If you’re not willing, then forget it.” As she talked, her nails dug into the back of her own hand. Hard enough to draw blood. My sister Sophia saw it. Rushed to stop her. Screamed at me. “Eleanor! Can’t you see my sister is sick? What do you want from us? What will make you satisfied?” My own sister. Can’t tell right from wrong. Hearing her, I thought about when I first came to the Archer house. First, they made me give up my bedroom to Madeline. Then they made me give up the Paris exchange spot to Madeline. After Madeline committed a crime— My mother grabbed my hands. Her grip strong enough to crack bone. Tears streaming down her face. “I raised Madeline with my own hands. Her heart won’t survive prison. Nora. We just want her to live. We don’t know what else to do.” “You take the blame for Madeline.” I remembered all of it. I said to Sophia— “You know what? I don’t care anymore. That engagement. That man. I don’t care about any of it. You want it? Take it.”

The living room sank into dead silence. No one could speak. Clearly, no one expected this from me. The me who always swallowed everything. Always said yes. I didn’t want to fight anymore. Limped back to my room. Late at night. Lying in bed. I opened my phone. Checked the calendar. December 7th. Three days left. My phone buzzed. Connor calling. I answered. “What is it?” “Nora.” Connor’s familiar voice came through. Smooth. “Madeline saved my life once. She gave me her kidney. So even if you can’t accept this, I’m still going through with the wedding ceremony.” Lying there, his words hit me like a boulder to the chest. I was the one who saved him. I was the one who gave him my kidney. How did it become Madeline? “Connor. Back then when you were hurt, I was the one who saved you. I gave you my kidney.” I couldn’t hold back the truth. Silence on the other end. Then Connor spoke. “Eleanor. Seven years in prison. When did you learn to make up stories?” “The one who saved me was Madeline. Your parents and the doctors can all prove it. I really can’t believe you’d say something like this.” I lay on that cold bed. Suddenly couldn’t find a single word. Eight years ago. Connor was attacked by a rival firm. Rushed into surgery. He needed a kidney transplant. I didn’t hesitate. Got tested. Match. Didn’t think twice. Gave him my kidney. And now it was all Madeline’s credit. And I couldn’t even prove it. After a long silence, I said— “Fine. Don’t believe me.” I’ve already decided to let you go anyway. I hung up. Closed my eyes. Sank into sleep. … Second-to-last day. I kept working at the restaurant. But I saw my sister Sophia sitting at a table. When she spotted me in my server uniform, a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes. Then back to cold. “The family didn’t give you money? You’ve been working as a waitress all this time?” I didn’t know why she came. “I’m not stealing. Not begging. Is there a problem?” Sophia choked. She stood up. “Mom and Dad are already planning my sister’s wedding. I hope this time you won’t upset her again.” She turned to leave. Her eyes caught my limp. Rare concern. “Your leg… go see a doctor when you have time.” Watching her back, I felt nothing like gratitude. When I first came back to the Archer house. Seeing my little sister. I was so happy. I remember that first year. Sophia’s birthday. I spent six months of my part-time wages on a Tiffany necklace. She handed it to a maid without a glance. “What is this? You know I never wear stuff like this. Don’t waste your money next time.” That same birthday, Madeline gave her a small cupcake. Sophia was over the moon. “Sis. You’re my real sister. You remembered my birthday. You know I love red velvet.” That was the moment I understood. I didn’t have a sister. Tomorrow night, I’d leave New York. So today was my last shift. Settled my wages. Walked out of the restaurant. A familiar Maybach sat in front of the department store. Before I could approach, the sky above the Brooklyn Bridge exploded with fireworks. Then drones. Hundreds of them. Forming words across the night sky. “Connor loves Nora. Forever.”

Forever? I stared at the drones for a long time. Connor walked up to me. “Nora. Yesterday. I handled things badly.” Under the neon lights, his voice was soft as water. “But you have to believe me. Even if Madeline saved me, the one I love is still you. So you didn’t need to say those things.” I almost wanted to cry. Not from being moved. From Connor’s words. How did he manage it? Hurting me over and over with my parents and sister. While saying he loved me. “What’s wrong?” Connor saw I wasn’t speaking. His long fingers pinched my cheek. “You’re really too thin. Why don’t you eat more?” I finally looked at him. “Seven years in prison. I was barely surviving. You didn’t think I had the luxury of putting on weight, did you?” Connor met my gaze. A tremor went through him. Maybe that was the moment he remembered. He was the one who sent me to prison. He opened his mouth. Before he could speak, the Maybach door swung open. A familiar voice. “Connor. Sis. Don’t just stand out there. It’s cold.” Madeline. My heart went colder. Connor explained. “Madeline insisted on coming with me to see you. She said she wants to thank you for being generous enough to let us be together.” “Come on. Let’s get you home.” He took my hand. Pulled me into the car. In the back seat. Madeline saw me climb in. Her eyes swept over my worn-out clothes. “Sis. Don’t Mom and Dad have finance send you money every month? Why did Sophia say you’re still working in a restaurant?” “That doesn’t look good. If outsiders see, they’ll think Mom and Dad play favorites. That they treat you badly.” She pulled a bracelet off her wrist. Held it out to me. “Sis. If you’re short on money and too embarrassed to tell Mom and Dad, just tell me. Mom gave me this bracelet for my birthday. It’s over forty thousand dollars. Should last you a while, right?” Forty thousand dollars. I stared at the extravagant bracelet she was offering. Self-loathing rose in my throat. One gift. Forty thousand. I remembered high school. I needed three hundred dollars for textbooks. I went to my mother. She said, “Money, money, money. Do I owe you? I gave birth to you. You should be grateful. Why do you keep asking me for money?” After that, I never asked my family for a single cent again. And as for finance sending me money? That never happened. “They do play favorites. Look at what you’re wearing. Look at me.” I pushed her charity bracelet away. “Stop performing for me. I’m not fifteen anymore. I don’t fall for your act.” When I was fifteen. Fresh to the Archer house. I wanted to be sisters with Madeline. She framed me. Again and again. Every bad thing she did, she pinned on me. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. Tears rolled down Madeline’s cheeks. Connor rushed to shield her. “Nora. Madeline meant well. You don’t have to take the bracelet, but there’s no need to say things like that.” That’s the man who said he loved me most. Every time it came down to me or Madeline, he always chose her. “Connor. When someone poor gets charity thrown at them, are they required to accept it? Required to weep with gratitude?” I asked him. Word by word. I have my dignity too.

Connor couldn’t answer. Madeline’s breathing turned ragged. She gasped for air. “I’m sorry… it’s my fault… all my fault… Connor, don’t blame my sister…” Connor panicked. Barked at the driver. “Now. Mount Sinai.” He saw me still in the car. “Nora. This was too far. Get yourself home.” He dumped me on the side of the road. The car roared away. I couldn’t feel the hurt anymore. Looked up at the night sky. At some point, snow had started falling. Snow in New York. I didn’t think I’d get to see the first snow before I left. I walked back to the Archer house. The whole mansion was decked out. Festive. My parents were planning Madeline’s wedding. “The day after tomorrow is a perfect date. We have to make Madeline’s wedding absolutely splendid.” My mother smiled. My father sighed. “Time really flies. I can’t believe our daughter’s about to get married.” Both of them. Joy and reluctance over Madeline’s marriage. I watched them from a distance. Saw how much they loved her. Really, truly loved her. When I was little, I watched this reunion show once. A girl got trafficked to the mountains of West Virginia when she was small. Renamed “Beth.” Later, she became an entrepreneur. Found her family. She kept telling the host, “I knew my mom wouldn’t abandon me. She has to be looking for me.” The host told her that her mother had never stopped searching. That her mother loved her. Deeply. Her mother’s original name for her was “Grace.” She wasn’t Beth. The woman on TV broke down sobbing. She kept saying, “I knew it. My mom didn’t abandon me.” I sat in front of the TV that day. Cried until I couldn’t breathe. It made me more determined to find my own mother. But now, I almost regretted it. Regretted finding them. If I’d never known, they could have stayed beautiful in my mind. Forever. I didn’t greet my parents. Went straight back to my basement room. Tomorrow night at nine. I’d be gone. After that, wide open sky. I could fly anywhere. No more begging for love. From family. From anyone. … The day after tomorrow. Madeline and Connor’s wedding. My sister Sophia threw them a pre-wedding party at a private estate in the Hamptons. The party drew young heirs from half the East Coast. Plus old classmates of mine and Madeline’s. The next morning. The house was buzzing. My room had no bathroom. I had to go upstairs to wash up. Passing the living room, everyone was drinking and laughing. Madeline and Connor sat in the center. Center of attention. “Connor. Tell us your most unforgettable moment with Madeline.” Someone was stirring the pot. Connor’s lips moved. “There are many.” “The most unforgettable one?” Madeline lowered her head. A blush on her cheeks. My sister Sophia laughed. “It’s the pre-wedding party. Connor and my sister’s last moments of being single. Can’t we all just have fun?” The guy who asked the question spotted me not far away. He said, “Connor. Pick any woman in this room. Tell us your most unforgettable moment together.” The atmosphere heated up instantly. The man pointed at me. “Nora. You and Connor used to be close, right? Why don’t you tell us?” Connor saw this. Stood up. Walked toward me. When he was about a meter away— Madeline spoke. “Connor…” Pitiful. Helpless. Connor glanced back at her. Then at me. Lowered his voice. “There are too many people here. I’m about to marry Madeline. I don’t want to make things awkward.” “You understand, right?” I answered flatly. “Mm.” Turned and went to wash up. Behind me, everyone circled back around Connor and Madeline. More laughing. More talking. I may be starved for love. But I’m not stupid. When it’s a choice between two, thanks for letting me go.

That whole day. The Archer house buzzed. Rich kids showered Madeline and Connor with praise. “Madeline. You and Connor are just perfect together. Remember back in high school? Connor drove you home all the time, right?” “I remember Connor beat up a whole crew of Brooklyn thugs for you. And that car accident—Connor shielded you with his own body, not caring if he got hurt. You’re the only one he’s ever treated like that.” Madeline’s best friend jumped in. “Connor treats our Madeline well, but Madeline gives just as much back. Years ago when Connor was injured, Madeline even gave him one of her kidneys.” “Wow. Connor and Madeline are that rare thing. True love.” “Mutual. Real mutual.” On Wall Street. In capitalist circles. Love is a luxury. Rare. Precious. I sat alone in my little corner. Almost laughed. Because everything they described about Madeline—that was me. Connor was older than me. When I was in high school, he was already at Harvard Business School. He saw how pitiful I was. Every time he came home, he’d have his driver wait and take me back too. I got harassed by thugs a lot. Connor would shed his suit jacket and fight them for me. Once we got in a car accident on the way home. Connor shielded me with his body. I didn’t get a single scratch. That’s why I fell for him. No hesitation. Even gave him my kidney. But… The Connor who used to like me. Protect me. Put me first. That Connor died. The one sitting in the Archer house now—he wasn’t that boy made of light anymore. So I decided. I didn’t want him. Time ticked by. Night fell. Connor set off fireworks across the city for Madeline. He pulled me aside. “Nora. After the wedding tomorrow, you and I can finally be together.” I thought about the past. All the times he helped me. Saved me. I opened my mouth. “I’m sorry… I won’t…” Be with you anymore. I didn’t finish. My sister Sophia called for him. “Brother-in-law! Come on. We’re waiting for you to cut the cake.” Cut the cake? Connor called back. “Coming.” Then he looked at me. “You won’t what?” I gave a bitter smile. “Nothing. Go.” Connor squeezed my cold hand. “After tomorrow, everything will be over.” He turned and left. I watched his tall figure walk away. Yeah. Everything’s over. … Fireworks bloomed overhead. Everyone flocked to Madeline’s room. I walked into the main house alone. Checked the time on my phone. 7:15 p.m. One hour and forty-five minutes left. I took a long, clean shower. Stared at myself in the mirror. Scars all over my body. Leftover souvenirs from prison. Then I put on the cleanest, most expensive outfit I owned. Waited for the lab to come get me. Final hour. Countdown. I scanned the room I’d lived in for years. The basement wasn’t small. But my things barely filled a corner. A few worn-out clothes. Old shoes. A quilt the staff didn’t want anymore. A beat-up notebook on the desk. And next to it, the only decoration—a photo frame. I tossed the useless clothes first. Shoes. Quilt. Then I walked to the desk. Picked up the frame. Inside was a photo from twelve years ago. The day I first came back to the Archer house. A group shot of both families. Father. Mother. Sisters. Madeline. Connor. All there. That photo held every hope I’d ever had. Now I pulled it out of the frame. Tore it into pieces. One by one. Dropped them in the trash. Finally, I looked at my notebook. The one I’d been writing in since I was fifteen. Flipped to the first page. “December 3, 2012. Sunny. I came home. I saw my father and mother. My father is so handsome. My mother is so elegant. Both my little sisters are beautiful too. I’m so happy. I have parents now. I have sisters.” Turned the page. “March 1, 2013. Cloudy. Didn’t get the textbook money today. Don’t know how to tell my teacher. Mom and Dad probably have their reasons. I should earn my own money. Can’t be a burden on them anymore.” “June 7, 2013. Sunny. I saved up three months of part-time wages for that necklace. My little sister didn’t like it. I’ll make more money later. Buy her better gifts.” Flipped further. Last entry. The day before I went to prison. “December 1, 2017. Rain.” Only one line. “They don’t love me at all.” … My eyes blurred. I couldn’t help it. I picked up the pen. Wrote on the last page. This time, in German. “December 10, 2024. Light snow.” “I’m leaving, Mom and Dad.” “Before I go, I can’t stop myself from asking—if you never liked me, why did you put ads in the papers and go on television looking for me all those years?” “Is it really true, what some people say? That if you didn’t raise a child yourself, there’s no bond?” “But why have I seen other parents so happy after finding their kids?” “They say when parents find their lost child, that’s when they lose the child all over again. Maybe I’m the exception. Getting found by my parents was the moment I truly lost them.” I poured it all out. The confusion. The resentment. Everything. “Sophia. You said you only want Madeline as your sister. Today I’ll grant your wish. From now on, you have only one sister.” Last. I wrote to Connor. “Connor. You told me to wait until after your wedding with Madeline. Then we could be together.” “I’m sorry. This time, I won’t wait for you.” “Wish you and Madeline happiness.” “This is goodbye. Let’s not see each other again.” I set the notebook on the desk. Then I placed my prison medical report on top of it. The report showed it clearly. I only had one kidney. Done. Nine o’clock. I grabbed my faded canvas bag. Limped out of the Archer house. Behind me, the Archer house blazed with lights. People laughing. Celebrating. Across from me, black armored SUVs waited in perfect silence. I didn’t hesitate. Walked toward my future. The vehicles pulled away from the glittering streets. Vanished into the night.

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My fiancé, Marco Bellini, tried to marry me ninety-nine times. But every single time, it was ruthlessly interrupted. On the day of our 99th wedding, Marco’s first love, Sophia, called again. This time, she claimed she’d been kidnapped. The ransom was thirty million dollars. In the video, Sophia was flawless, as perfect as a porcelain doll. But Marco—the future Godfather of the Bellini family—lost his composure once again. Fighting back tears, I grabbed his arm as he spun around to bolt from the church. “Do you have to go right now? Marco, this is the 99th time! All the families are watching!” Marco viciously shook my hand off, leaving me alone at the altar, exposed to the stares of every mafia family in New York. Once again, I was the laughingstock of the entire underworld. A week later, I was the one who got kidnapped. The ransom was just one dollar. But my fiancé’s voice on the phone was impatient. “Ella, stop messing around. All the guests are waiting for you.” My defenses crumbled completely. My voice was so hoarse it didn’t sound like my own. “I’ve really been kidnapped. They only want a one-dollar ransom… Marco, save me…” His tone remained ice-cold. “I’ll give you half an hour. If you don’t get your ass over here, I’ll find a new bride!” Marco Bellini really did find a new bride. And because of that one-dollar ransom, my fingers were chopped off on a dark web livestream. That day, two stories blew up New York’s underworld: The Bellini family heir’s wedding of the century featured a last-minute bride swap. And a dark web livestream from an abandoned warehouse showed a kidnapper torturing a hostage, the victim suspected to be the Bellini family’s bride-to-be. … I was kidnapped on my wedding day. And Marco, my groom, was in the chapel’s dressing room, comforting his crying childhood sweetheart. I called him forty-nine times, but he never picked up. “Is this the guy you said would pay up? Fuck! He’s not even picking up your calls!” The kidnapper yanked my hair, the searing pain making my scalp feel like it was ripping from my skull. My face contorted in agony. Then came a storm of kicks and punches. The sharp pain of broken ribs made every breath feel like swallowing razor blades. The world spun around me. But the pain in my body was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. A week ago, Sophia was “kidnapped.” Thirty million dollars. He didn’t even blink. For Sophia, he abandoned me at the altar for the ninety-ninth time. I had begged him, holding onto him, only for him to shove me away without a second thought. He always said they had a bond from growing up together, that he couldn’t just stand by. It was his responsibility. So, time and time again, he canceled our wedding—a wedding meant to unite our two powerful families—all for Sophia. Now, I, his rightful fiancée, the daughter of the Marino family, was the one who was kidnapped, and I couldn’t even get him on the phone. The irony was crushing. Suddenly, my phone lit up. It was a video from Sophia. “Marco is helping me with a blister on my heel, Ella. He’s too busy to take your call.” “It’s your wedding day, but you’re still not here. Marco said I should try on your dress, to see if it fits.” In the video, Marco was on one knee, gently placing a crystal heel on Sophia’s foot. And Sophia was wearing my mother’s only heirloom—the wedding dress she had sewn for me with her own hands. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through my heart. My eyes turned bloodshot red. That was my mother’s wedding dress. How dare he let another woman wear it! I lunged for the phone, desperate to confront Marco, but the kidnapper was faster. He kicked my wrist hard, sending the phone flying. The pain was so intense my body curled into a ball.

The kidnapper walked over, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and forced my head up. “No one’s even answering your calls. And you were telling me you’d get me ten million?” I gasped for air, struggling to speak. “Let… let me try again… He’ll… he’ll definitely give you the money…” “You think I’m gonna fall for that again?” The kidnapper swore, but then he seemed to change his mind, a cruel grin spreading across his face. “Fine. You can call again. One finger for every call.” He pinned my hand to the filthy concrete floor and pulled a dagger from his belt, slamming it into the ground next to my fingers. I trembled in terror, begging him, even offering more money. “No… please… I’ll give you anything you want, I have money, my fiancé is…” He slapped me across the face, cutting me off. “Shut up! All I want now is a one-dollar ransom. Remember, not a penny more.” I wanted to ask why, but he gave me no chance. He threw the phone in front of me. “You have ten seconds. When time’s up, I’m chopping off your finger.” I didn’t dare waste a second. I scrambled to pick up the phone and dialed Marco’s number again. I prayed desperately, Please, Marco, pick up. Please. One dollar. All it would take is one dollar to save my life. The kidnapper counted down beside my ear, each number a sledgehammer pounding on my nerves. “Three.” “Two.” Just as he was about to say “one,” the call connected! “Marco!” I screamed his name, a tangled mess of terror and elation. Tears streamed down my face. But the voice that answered wasn’t his. “Ella? Are you looking for Marco?” It was Sophia. “I scraped my heel, he went to get me a band-aid.” I choked back a sob. “Let me talk to Marco. It’s an emergency.” The kidnapper loomed over me, the cold glint of his dagger reflecting in my tear-filled eyes. Just then, I heard Marco’s voice in the background. Hope surged through me again, and I screamed with all my might. “Marco, save me! I’ve been kidnapped!” He finally took the phone. His tone was as cold as a Siberian winter. “Ella Marino, there’s a limit to your games. It’s our wedding day. Are you trying to make a point by disappearing?” “You have half an hour to get your ass over here. Don’t expect me to come and get you.” I shook my head frantically, hot tears rolling down my cheeks. “No, that’s not it… Marco, I’ve really been kidnapped, you have to come save me…” Marco cut me off, his voice filled with rage. “Enough! Sophia was just kidnapped last week, and now you’re pulling the same stunt? Ella, this is not how you play your jealous games!” “If you have any sense of decency left, you’ll get over here and finish this wedding!” With that, he hung up without a shred of mercy. My tears froze on my face. When Sophia was kidnapped, it was real. It was worth him abandoning the honor of our families to save her. When I was kidnapped, I was just being dramatic. He wouldn’t even listen to a full sentence. The kidnapper stood up with a cold sneer, raising the dagger in his hand.

I scrambled backward in terror, but my feet were tied together. There was nowhere to run. “What a pathetic waste. Bragging about giving me ten million.” The kidnapper spat at me, then grabbed my right hand and pinned it down. “No… let me call one more time… AHH!” The dagger came down with cold, brutal finality, severing my pinky finger. The agonizing pain made my body twist into a knot. The only sound in the empty warehouse was my piercing scream. A pool of blood spread quickly on the floor around the small, severed piece of my finger. The kidnapper tossed the phone in front of me again. “Keep calling.” Tears and cold sweat soaked my face. I had no choice but to endure the excruciating pain and dial the video call with my trembling left hand. A few seconds later, the call connected. Marco’s handsome but cold face appeared on the screen. He was looking down, carefully applying a band-aid to the scrape on Sophia’s heel. I remembered how he used to be like that with me. If I got a tiny paper cut, he’d rush to disinfect and bandage it. If I complained my feet hurt, he would immediately carry me on his back to see the family’s private doctor. But everything changed after we announced our engagement. The camera shifted, and Sophia’s face, smiling in triumph, filled the screen. “Ella, are you calling to apologize to Marco?” “It’s getting late. You should hurry over. All the family elders are getting impatient.” Marco snorted and took the phone from her. “I’ll let it slide since it’s our wedding day. Get over here now.” My face was streaked with tears as I asked in a hoarse voice: “Marco, why is it real when Sophia gets kidnapped, but when it happens to me, I’m just faking it?” Marco’s expression instantly darkened. “Ella Marino, are you ever going to let this go?” “Just because I had to leave to save Sophia last time, you’re going to retaliate like this?” “Have you no conscience? That was a life-or-death situation! And you have to hold a grudge and stage your own kidnapping on our wedding day?” “I don’t know how you became so cold and selfish. Does it make you happy to keep all our families waiting?” His words made me tremble with rage. I screamed, completely breaking down. “Why won’t you just believe me! If you don’t save me, I’m going to die!” I pushed my unrecognizable face closer to the camera, my vision blurred by blood and tears. Marco glanced at me and frowned in disgust. “What happened to your face?” The kidnapper was right beside me. I could only cry, making one last, desperate plea. “Come and save me. The ransom is only one dollar…” The moment the words left my mouth, Marco laughed coldly. “A one-dollar ransom?” “Ella, you can’t even tell a convincing lie!” I completely lost it. I held up my bloody right hand, aiming the stump of my finger right at the camera. “He already chopped off one of my fingers! What will it take for you to believe me? Do I have to die right in front of you?” The severed joint was still oozing blood. Beneath the mangled flesh, I could see the white of the bone. Marco froze. He frowned, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. Just then, I heard Sophia let out a soft laugh. “Ella, that special effects makeup looks a little fake. A real wound wouldn’t look like that.”

“Besides, what kind of kidnapper would only ask for one dollar to release someone from the Bellini family? You might as well have said a hundred million. That would at least sound more believable.” Then she sighed, her voice soft with feigned guilt. “I’m so sorry, Marco. This is all my fault. Ella must still be upset that you left her to come and save me.” “But Ella, you really shouldn’t have resorted to such extreme measures.” Marco’s face turned livid. I shook my head desperately, ignoring the pain racking my body. “That’s not it! Marco, believe me, you’re the only one who can—” “Enough!” Marco’s sharp voice cut me off, colder than I had ever heard it. “I’ve told you countless times, Sophia is like a sister to me. But you always get jealous over her.” “You either deliberately embarrass her at parties or find ways to bully her. Now you’re staging this elaborate kidnapping drama!” “Ella, you have disappointed me more than I can say.” With the bloody dagger right beside me, I screamed in despair. “Marco, why can’t you just believe me this one time!” He accused me of embarrassing her, but it was just because we wore dresses from the same designer to a family gala. I had ordered mine first. He accused me of bullying her, but that was after she’d ruined dozens of my weddings, and my friends had said a few things to her in my defense. He twisted it into me putting them up to it. Her kidnapping was the one that was staged. In the video she sent, she was perfectly unharmed, her makeup still flawless. But Marco was blind to all of it. Here I was, battered and kidnapped, and he saw it as me throwing a tantrum. An icy blade seemed to pierce my heart, the pain so sharp my insides clenched. I no longer cared if he believed me. I just wanted him to pay the ransom and save me. “Marco, whether it’s real or fake, all you have to do is pay one dollar and you’ll know the truth! Just one dollar…” Marco frowned, seeming to consider it. But then Sophia started crying. Her voice was thick with sobs. “I’m sorry… It’s all because of me that your big day has been ruined like this. If I had known this would happen, I would have rather died at the hands of those kidnappers than call you for help.” With that, Sophia turned and ran off, crying. Marco’s brow furrowed, and he immediately moved to follow her. I screamed his name. “Marco—” He looked back, his face filled with anxiety, but his next words were my final sentence. “This is our 100th wedding. If you still want to marry into the Bellini family, get your ass over here now.” “I’ll give you one last half hour. If you don’t show up, I don’t mind finding a new bride!” Before I could say another word, the video call was mercilessly disconnected. It felt like my heart stopped beating. I stared at the dark screen, the light in my eyes completely extinguished. The kidnapper stomped on my head, grinding his boot into my temple. “Pathetic. Not even worth a single dollar.” He mocked me, then raised his dagger again and chopped off my ring finger. “AHHH—” The agony was unbearable. I thrashed on the ground, screaming. But no physical pain could ever compare to the gaping wound in my soul. Tears slid from the corners of my eyes. My heart was broken, a hole that could never be repaired.

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On the day I was released from prison, rain poured from the sky as I followed my husband to the cemetery to pay respects to our daughter. Rain hammered against the tombstone. Damian Blackthorne, Alpha of the Black Wolf Clan, suddenly spoke in a voice so calm it was almost cruel. “The day our daughter Elsie drowned, I was the one who had the image crystal by Moon Lake destroyed.” I froze where I stood. The next second, I turned and met my son’s eyes. There was not a trace of guilt in them. Aiden’s tone was careless, almost light. “I was the one who testified that you abused my sister. I cleared Celeste Mom of suspicion.” The torment of more than a thousand days and nights in prison was nothing compared to the agony of this truth ripping me open. A metallic sweetness surged up my throat. I grabbed Damian by the collar and screamed hysterically, “What did I ever do wrong? Why would you do this to me?” My son let out a soft laugh. “My sister is already dead. What, were we supposed to let Celeste Mom go to prison?” “You were just a useless Luna who couldn’t do anything. So what if you spent a few years in jail?” Damian pried my fingers off one by one, his voice cold. “I gave you the respected title of Luna, admired by everyone. But Celeste is pitiful. Even after giving birth to Pearl for me, she still can’t let anyone know about it, and she has to be cursed as a shameful mistress who can never be seen in public.” “So, Evelyn, as long as you stop making things difficult for Celeste and her daughter, I won’t send you back in a second time.” … I collapsed in front of my daughter’s grave, feeling as if I had fallen into an ice cellar. Damian bent down and brushed the rain-soaked hair from my face. “Evelyn, you were the one who insisted on having someone investigate Celeste.” “So I arranged for someone to teach you a lesson. I wanted you to behave.” “But I didn’t expect them to go too far and leave you disabled.” The dull sound of iron rods smashing into bone exploded in my ears all over again. That day, I had just found a clue that Celeste was the one who drowned my daughter. I was about to find Celeste and make her pay when a group of wolf guards pinned me to the ground. Again and again, they brought their rods down on my legs. In a pool of blood, I used the last of my strength to crawl, inch by inch, toward the door. “Help me…” But all that remained in the corridor was the sound of footsteps growing farther and farther away. The pain and despair from that day were still vivid in my mind. I took a deep breath and looked at the son standing before me. All I felt was strangeness. And cold. My son looked at me coldly as I collapsed in the mud and rain. “Stop acting like you’re the victim.” “Celeste Mom was about to hold her harp recital then. You were the one who insisted on making trouble for her.” “Father didn’t even want to do anything at first. You forced him.” My own flesh and blood was speaking for my enemy. The last string in my mind snapped completely. I forced myself to stand and slapped my son hard across the face. The crisp sound of the slap cut through the roar of the rain. My son covered his face, stunned. Damian suddenly reached out and shoved me away. “Evelyn Hawthorne, why are you hitting a child?” I crashed into the tombstone. Blood mixed with rainwater and streamed into my eyes, staining the whole world red. Two wolf guards lifted me up and dragged me into the car, taking me back to the Blackthorne Pack estate. Damian pushed an adoption contract in front of me. “Pearl will be adopted under your name.” Pearl Blackthorne. His daughter with Celeste. I swept everything off the coffee table, my eyes bloodshot. “Damian, you want me to acknowledge the daughter of my enemy? Dream on.” “She killed Elsie! I will never raise that bastard!” Shattered porcelain sliced across the back of my hand. Blood dripped onto the carpet. Damian frowned and pressed a handkerchief against my bleeding wound. “Evelyn, stop making a scene.” “As long as you can be a little more generous and accept Celeste and her daughter…” “You will still be the mate I love most. The position of Luna will always be yours.” Nausea churned violently in my stomach. I yanked my hand back. Damian’s face darkened. “Evelyn Hawthorne, you need to calm down.” “When you’ve thought this through, you can come out and talk to me.” He turned and left the room. The door slammed shut behind him. Silence returned. Blood continued to bead from my hand, taking with it the last trace of warmth in my heart. I immediately booked a ticket to the Southern Territory. A home like this I would never return to it again.

The servants’ voices drifted in from outside the door. “Alpha is so good to Miss Pearl. Tomorrow’s adoption banquet is even grander than the mating ceremony he held with Luna back then.” “But isn’t tomorrow Miss Elsie’s death anniversary? Why would Alpha choose that day?” “A young lady who wasn’t loved only deserves that kind of treatment. Don’t waste your pity on her. Just remember, tomorrow’s banquet will be broadcast live across the whole city. From now on, the Blackthorne Pack will have only one young lady.” My nails dug into my palm, cutting through flesh. Blood seeped out. On Elsie’s death anniversary, Damian was going to trample over his own daughter’s remains to throw a grand banquet for the daughter of her murderer. Not long after, the bedroom door opened. Damian placed a cup of warm milk gently by my bedside. “Evelyn, I’ve asked someone to contact the best bone-healing therapist in the Northern Territory.” “Your leg can still be treated. I’ll arrange the healing ritual for next week.” He reached out, wanting to touch my hair. I slapped his hand away. The tenderness on Damian’s face vanished. His voice turned hard. “I’m thinking of you in every possible way. I found you the best healer.” “How much longer are you going to keep making trouble?” I looked at him coldly. “Thinking of me? By having my legs beaten until they broke?” “Thinking of me? By covering for the murderer who killed our daughter?” Damian sighed, his tone helpless. “You spoiled Elsie too much. She was only a child, yet she pointed at someone and called her a slut.” “Celeste had been insulted by her, and all she did was push her once. Who knew she would fall into the lake?” “To this day, Celeste still blames herself. She is already suffering enough.” “You can’t put all the blame on her.” It felt as if my heart had been torn apart, leaving me almost unable to breathe. To protect that murderer, he was actually throwing filth on a five-year-old child. When I was eighteen, I lay on the floor covered in blood. At my feet was the corpse of my abusive father. Beside him was my mother, who had just slit her wrists and died. Damian had rushed in and pulled my trembling body into his arms. “Don’t be afraid, Evelyn. From now on, I’ll protect you with my life.” But now, the cruel face before me had turned all that love into stagnant water. “Damian, dissolve our mate bond.” “I’ll let you have your happy ending with her.” “I only ask to take Elsie’s ashes with me.” Damian fell silent. His expression grew more and more terrifying. In the end, he let out a cold laugh. “Dissolve the bond? Don’t even think about it.” “Tomorrow’s adoption banquet—you will attend as Luna.” “If you dare refuse, you will never know where Elsie’s real ashes are for the rest of your life.” He released me, then slammed the door and left. I staggered out of the room, only to stop in front of that familiar door. When I pushed it open, all I saw were princess dresses, custom gowns, and an entire wall of priceless jewelry. Elsie’s desk, her toys, her bed— all of them were gone. A giant portrait of Celeste and Pearl hung on the wall. Inside the wardrobe were the limited-edition handbags and jewel necklaces Damian had given them. This place had become Celeste and Pearl’s private dressing room. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Celeste leaned against the doorframe, swirling a glass of red wine. “When that little bitch died, she kept crying for her mommy to save her.” “I pushed her under the water again and again.” “She struggled for five whole minutes before she finally stopped breathing. Her eyes were so wide when she died.” All the blood in my body rushed straight to my head. I raised my hand and slapped her face with every ounce of strength I had. Celeste did not dodge. She only smiled with mocking contempt. Suddenly, a violent wave of dizziness hit me. My vision went black. And I collapsed heavily to the floor.

A bucket of ice water was dumped over my head. I snapped my eyes open. The wolf guards forced me into an ill-fitting gown and dragged me roughly into the banquet hall. Beneath the blinding crystal chandeliers, my miserable state was exposed to everyone. “So this is the vicious woman who abused and killed her own daughter?” “She actually has the nerve to come out alive. How disgusting.” “Alpha is truly unlucky, getting stuck with a crippled madwoman like her.” Mockery surged toward me from every direction, turning into countless slaps across my face. Celeste walked toward me, holding Pearl’s hand. She was wearing a familiar white gown, radiant and flawless. It was the first gift Damian had ever given me the year he took over the Blackthorne Pack. “Evelyn, you’ve suffered so much.” Celeste’s eyes reddened, her voice gentle. I stared at that gown, nausea churning violently in my stomach. Pearl suddenly threw herself into my arms and kicked hard at my left leg. A bone-deep pain shot through me. I cried out and shoved her away. Pearl fell to the floor with the momentum and burst into loud sobs. “What are you doing?” My son rushed over and picked Pearl up. “Did you not spend enough time in the dungeon? Now you won’t even spare Pearl?” Damian grabbed my wrist. “On such an important occasion, I will not allow you to throw another tantrum.” I struggled desperately out of his grip and limped toward the door. Celeste’s eyes were red, tears threatening to fall. “Evelyn Hawthorne, abusing Elsie was bad enough. Why won’t you even spare innocent Pearl?” “As Damian’s godsister, I know I shouldn’t interfere in your family matters, but I truly cannot stand by and watch this anymore!” “Pearl is still so young! How can your heart be this cruel?” Her pitiful appearance immediately drew sighs of sympathy from the guests around us. Suddenly, the giant screen lit up. Several crystal-image media outlets bought off by the Blackthorne Pack surrounded me. “Ms. Evelyn, according to our investigation, your father committed domestic violence many times, and your mother brutally murdered him.” “Did you inherit your father’s violent tendencies? Is that why you killed your own daughter so cruelly?” The image crystals flashed wildly. Those accusing voices were shoved right into my face. I froze in place, their words piercing into my mind like a swarm of needles. Only after a long while did I come back to myself. Then I screamed until my voice tore. “I was framed!” “Celeste isn’t some godsister at all! She is my mate’s mistress! She destroyed our marriage!” “Pearl is the illegitimate daughter she had with Damian! They were the ones who killed my daughter!” The entire hall fell into dead silence. Celeste’s face turned deathly pale. Her body swayed hard, nearly collapsing. Damian quickly reached out and caught her firmly in his arms. Holding Celeste protectively, Damian let out a sigh. “I apologize, everyone. My Luna was traumatized in the dungeon. Her mental state has never been stable.” Then he turned his head and leaned close to my ear. “Apologize to Celeste. Clarify that she is not my mistress. Say you were jealous and slandered her.” I gritted my teeth and stared at him. “Never.” Damian opened his communication crystal. A prewritten message appeared before my eyes. Destroy the ashes. My whole body trembled. A chill rushed from the soles of my feet straight to the top of my skull. “Damian, are you insane? That is your biological daughter!” “You won’t do this. You wouldn’t!” Damian looked at me coldly. Then, without the slightest hesitation, his finger pressed the send mark. “No!” I dropped to my knees with a thud, tears bursting from my eyes. “I’m sorry. I was jealous of Celeste. I slandered her!”

“So she’s just a jealous madwoman. She even envies his godsister.” “Someone mentally ill should be locked up. Why did she come out just to embarrass herself?” I lowered my head and let the mockery from every direction smash into my face. Celeste held Pearl’s hand, smiling brightly amid wave after wave of praise. The banquet finally ended. Damian shoved a wooden box into my hands, his tone softening. “Evelyn, I know you’ve suffered.” “I promise I won’t let Celeste appear in front of you again.” “Pearl will be registered under your name. In a way, you’ll have both a son and a daughter.” I clutched the wooden box tightly, my nails digging into the wood. “Fine.” The moment Damian left, I hugged the urn and ran toward the back door. But as soon as I reached the alley, a sharp pain struck the back of my head. Then I blacked out. The sting on my face woke me. In the basement of the Blackthorne Pack, Celeste withdrew her hand and sneered as she threw the urn onto the ground. The lid burst open. Ashes scattered all over the floor. Celeste took out a white porcelain jar. “Did you really think Damian would return the ashes to you?” “Give them back!” I lunged forward, only to be pinned hard to the ground by the wolf guards. Celeste crouched down and seized my chin viciously. “Damian said he only married you back then because your family was ruined and you looked pitiful, like some stray dog.” “The daughter of a murderer like you—how could you ever deserve to be Luna?” Carrying the white porcelain jar, Celeste walked toward the trash can in the backyard. I crawled after her like a madwoman, dragging my crippled leg across the ground until it left a trail of blood. “No! Celeste, I’m begging you!” Martha happened to pass by with gardening tools. I grabbed the hem of her pants and begged for help. “Martha! Help me!” Martha stopped, then stepped back coldly. “Luna, Alpha has given his orders. From now on, everything in the Pack, big or small, is under Miss Celeste’s authority.” “If you refuse to behave, she may deal with you however she sees fit.” I froze in place. A bone-deep cold pierced through my heart inch by inch. Celeste waved her hand. Several rogue wolves immediately surrounded me. “Serve Luna well.” “And record every second of her filthy little state.” A foul stench closed in. Several large hands suddenly tore my clothes apart. I grabbed a pair of pruning shears from the ground and pressed them hard against my throat. The sharp tip pierced my skin. Blood surged out instantly. “Get away from me! Or I’ll die right in front of you!” The smile on Celeste’s face only deepened. She held the porcelain urn above the trash can and loosened her fingers one by one. “Evelyn Hawthorne, go ahead. Try dying.” “You don’t want to see this little bastard mixed in with all this garbage, do you?” The ashes slipped down in a soft stream, falling straight into the foul-smelling trash. I lunged forward like a madwoman to snatch them back, but someone kicked me away viciously. I crashed heavily to the ground. All I could do was watch helplessly as the last piece of my daughter was swallowed completely by filth. It felt as if my heart had been dug out alive. The pain was so extreme that I went numb. Just then, the backyard door was pushed open. I turned my head numbly. And met Damian’s face— instantly drained of all color.

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The night I miscarried and nearly bled to death, I was trapped inside an apartment with the door bolted shut. And my godfather-turned-husband was at the hospital, kissing his mistress. He’d cut the water, the electricity, the phone line. He’d even tried to force me to kneel before Rowena and apologize. He called it a little lesson—because I, his “vicious wife,” had dared to compete with his mistress for his affection. But what he didn’t know was this: That night, he killed his only heir with his own hands. … … It was just past nine months into the pregnancy when a sharp, plummeting pain tore through my abdomen. My pants were already soaked through with dark red. Something was horribly wrong. I grabbed the bathroom doorframe for support and called out to Colby, who sat by the window. “Colby, I’m bleeding. Take me to the hospital.” He was on a phone call, brow furrowed, murmuring something in Italian. After he hung up, he walked straight to the entryway and picked up the hospital bag I’d packed for labor. “Rowena’s gone into labor. It’s an emergency. She’ll need these first.” I stared at him in disbelief. “I’m bleeding, Colby. Our baby might be coming!” He picked up my phone from the coffee table, slid it into his suit jacket along with the building access card. “Your due date isn’t for another two weeks. You heard me on the phone just now, didn’t you? This is another one of your pathetic little tricks to compete with Rowena. It’s cheap.” “Stay home. Don’t bother me.” Then the door slammed shut behind him, the deadbolt sliding into place with a sound that was dull and final. I dragged myself to the door, gripped the handle with both hands, and pressed down with everything I had. It didn’t budge. He’d locked it from the outside. Another contraction hit—the pain exploded from my lower spine outward—and then a warm rush of liquid coursed down my inner thighs, splattering against the oak floor. My water had broken. He’d taken my phone. Gritting my teeth, I crawled toward the landline on the side table by the couch—I remembered, I remembered there was still— The instant my fingertips touched the receiver, I saw it. The phone cord had been snipped cleanly from the jack. A neat cut. Deliberate. I had no time to process it. The contractions were coming closer together now, the stabbing pain blurring my vision. I slid down the wall inch by inch until I collapsed on the floor. Survival instinct drove me to summon one last breath and crawl toward the balcony. I shoved open the glass door. December night air rushed in, so cold it sent my entire body into spasms. We lived on the second floor. The balcony overlooked the apartment building’s parking lot. “Help! Is anyone there? Call an ambulance!” Nothing. Empty. Colby had reassigned every single bodyguard to protect Rowena—his mistress, about to give birth. No one answered my screams. Every avenue of outside help had been sealed shut. All I could do was stumble back inside. The baby seemed to sense the danger, kicking frantically, each strike sending white-hot pain through my organs, my vision going black in waves. Suddenly my knees buckled and I crashed to the floor beside the coffee table, my arm sweeping the crystal fruit bowl off the surface. Shards exploded across the floor, mingling with the blood pooling beneath me. A scene of utter devastation. The spike of sharper pain jolted a brief moment of clarity back into my mind. I cannot die here. My palm groped across the floor and closed around the sharpest piece of glass I could find. I have to find a way out. I have to save my baby. That’s when the red light on the ceiling-mounted surveillance camera blinked on. “Serena, are you done with this little tantrum?” Colby’s voice—low, cold, detached—ricocheted off the walls of the empty room, dripping with condescension. I tilted my head back and fixed my gaze on that blinking red dot. He actually had the leisure to check the home security feed. I raised my blood-soaked hand toward the lens, making sure he could see it clearly. “Colby, I’m bleeding. I really am going into labor. Please—save our baby…” “Cut the crap.” A scoff. Contemptuous and impatient. “This again.” “Last time you used red ink to fake bleeding. What is it this time? Food coloring?” “Rowena is in so much pain she’s about to pass out, and you’re holed up at home putting on this little sob show.” “Serena, you are truly a disappointment.” My body was convulsing with pain. I didn’t have the strength to argue. Watching the blood pool into a dark puddle beneath me, soaking through my nightgown, all I could do was beg. “Colby, for the sake of our child.” “Call me an ambulance.”

He was silent for two seconds. Then he sighed, his tone carrying a thread of exhaustion, as though my desperate plea was nothing more than a tired plot point in a bad soap opera. “I looked at your prenatal report before I left—the doctor’s notes in black and white say everything’s normal, and you’ve still got two weeks until your due date. You’re lying on the floor playing dead because you want to trick me into coming back from Rowena’s side.” “These little games of yours are pathetically juvenile.” I gasped for air, each word requiring every ounce of strength I had left. “My water… already broke… the baby will lose oxygen…” “Colby, this is your own flesh and blood.” Through the speaker came a rustle of movement—the friction of fabric, Rowena’s low moan, and Colby’s voice going suddenly, impossibly soft. “Rowena, is it hurting again? Don’t be scared, the doctor’s on his way.” After soothing her, he turned his attention back to the microphone. His tone shifted instantly from tender to cutting. “Serena, Rowena is an orphan. In this entire world, she has no one but me.” “And you? You already have the Donna title that everyone envies. Why do you insist on competing with a girl who has nothing?” “She borrowed your hospital bag—that’s all—and you pull this disgusting stunt to force me back.” “You’re rotten to the core.” My cheek pressed against the cold oak floor. Tears and cold sweat mixed together, splashing onto the back of my hand—warm yet desolate. I stopped looking at the camera. I clenched my jaw, braced my elbows against the floor, and began crawling toward the entryway. Glass shards pierced my palms, punctured the skin, embedded themselves in the flesh. I couldn’t feel the pain. Only one thought remained in my mind: Get out. Get out alive. I made it to the entryway, pushed myself upright, and smashed the largest piece of broken glass against the door lock. Time was precious. The agony had already drained me of any energy to search for a more suitable tool. The glass shattered on impact, the jagged edge slicing open the skin between my thumb and wrist. Blood sprayed onto the cream-colored wall. The lock didn’t budge. Colby’s voice came through the speaker again, barely containing his rage. “Serena! What are you doing! If you damage that door, there will be hell to pay when I get back!” I ignored him. With blood-soaked hands, I tore through the shoe cabinet. I vaguely remembered a spare key kept here. Colby’s housekeeper often locked a spare key in a hidden compartment at the very bottom of the shoe cabinet. He thought I didn’t know. If I could find the key, I could get out. I could survive. I dumped everything from the cabinet onto the floor, and finally—in a small tin box at the very bottom—my fingers closed around a cold brass key. I braced myself against the wall and stood, legs shaking, aligning the key with the lock. It wouldn’t go in. I leaned in close, squinting in the residual light from the hallway. The keyhole had been filled. Dried industrial-strength adhesive had sealed every millimeter of the gap. The lock cylinder was completely blocked. “Don’t waste your energy.” Colby’s voice carried a note of satisfaction. “You think I don’t know what a temper you have? Stubborn, impossible to control, always looking for a chance to bolt. I was afraid you’d use the opportunity to run out and cause trouble for Rowena.” “So before I left, I personally sealed the keyhole with Gorilla Glue.” “Serena, the rules are simple. All you need to do is be a good girl, admit you were wrong, and promise never to harass Rowena again. Once she delivers safely, I’ll come home and be with you. Understood?” I stood there, numb, listening to my husband’s calculated confession of attempted murder. My back slid down the door panel, my body sinking inch by inch. This wasn’t negligence. This wasn’t carelessness. This was premeditated. He meant to strip me of every right to survive. I tilted my head up and stared at the surveillance camera—its lens trained unflinchingly on my trembling body, like the barrel of a gun ready to fire. “Colby, let’s get a divorce.” The speaker went briefly silent. Then came the explosion. “Threatening me again! Serena, is this the only trick you know? You think saying ‘divorce’ will make me cave? What else can you do besides cry and throw tantrums!” I closed my eyes. I didn’t answer. The contractions stacked on top of each other, wave after wave, like someone was taking a dull blade to my body. Something was descending—heavy, unstoppable. I could feel it. “Colby Blackwell.” I called his full name one last time. “I don’t want you anymore.” When I said it, I didn’t cry. Then, very calmly, I raised the brass key—metal slicing through the air—and hurled it with perfect aim at the surveillance camera. The housing shattered on impact, the circuit board popped loose, the red indicator light flickered twice, and went permanently dark. The living room returned to silence. I lay in a pool of blood, gulping air that grew thinner by the second. And then, without warning, the darkness came.

Every light in the living room died in the same instant—the chandelier, the wall sconces, the motion-sensor nightlights in the hallway. Even the hum of the air conditioning and refrigerator cut off abruptly. “Ah—” The scream left my lips the same moment I understood. It was Colby. He’d used his phone’s smart home system to kill the apartment’s main power supply with a single tap. The only thing still functioning was a Bluetooth speaker, its ring of pale blue light glowing in the darkness. Colby’s voice emerged from that circle of blue. “Serena, since you insist on being ungrateful, you can sit in the dark and reflect on what you’ve done.” “When you’ve come to your senses and apologized, I’ll turn the lights back on.” “Don’t expect me to go soft. You brought all of this on yourself.” His voice was ice-cold, controlled. As though he’d completely forgotten that ever since his rival faction locked me in a warehouse for twenty-four hours three years ago, I’d developed nyctophobia. That day, he’d held me in his arms and promised that as long as he was with me, the lights in our home would never go dark. But now… Colby had apparently forgotten that promise entirely. Forgotten the wife he’d locked in the dark. I curled up on the floor, biting down hard on my lower lip, fighting the physiological terror. Blood was still leaving my body. The abdominal pain surged like a tide, each wave more brutal than the last, and with every crest, my consciousness blinked out for seconds at a time. I can’t give up. I can’t give up. The bathroom had scissors. Towels. If no one was coming to save me, I would have to deliver this baby myself. I forced myself to stay calm, feeling my way toward the bathroom in the dark. I crawled until my elbows and knees were raw and bleeding, and just as my fingertips brushed the bathroom doorframe, the bedroom television screen blazed to life. A video call had been force-cast onto the seventy-five-inch LCD. The sudden light illuminated the entire living room—and the long trail of dark red I’d left behind me. On screen, Rowena reclined against her hospital bed, complexion rosy, makeup flawless enough for a magazine cover. Colby sat on the edge of the bed, his arm around her, my hospital bag beside him. “Colby, is Serena mad at me?” Rowena’s voice was coy and aggrieved, each word pitched with just the right amount of a quiver. “I didn’t mean to take her things—it just came on so suddenly… Maybe you should go back and check on her. I can manage alone.” Colby pressed a tender kiss to the back of her hand. “Forget about her. She just can’t stand seeing me be good to you. The moment she notices I’m over here, she starts pulling stunts.” “She smashed the security camera at home. She’s probably in some corner breaking things and throwing a fit right now.” He turned to face the camera, his gaze turning razor-sharp. “Serena, look at how considerate Rowena is. How thoughtful.” “Now look at yourself—smashing things, lying, acting like a complete shrew.” “I’m warning you one last time.” His voice dropped low, the kind of quiet menace that needed no volume—like a warning issued to a traitor who’d tried to flee the organization. “If you dare make one more scene that upsets Rowena—” “Tomorrow I’ll cut off every penny funding your brother’s hospital stay. And you can watch him die.” My heart felt like an invisible fist had clenched around it. Ethan. My eighteen-year-old brother. After the car accident three months ago, he’d been lying in the ICU, kept alive by machines maintaining his most basic vital signs. He was my only remaining family in this world. And Colby knew it. He wielded Ethan like a noose suspended above my head, ready to tighten at any moment. On screen, the loving couple nestled together. And I lay in my own blood, watching this broadcast from the darkness. A violent wave of nausea churned in my stomach. “Colby Blackwell.” I screamed it with every last shred of strength. “You make me sick.” On screen, Rowena immediately shrank into Colby’s arms, her voice trembling. “Colby, Serena is so scary… my stomach hurts so much…” Colby’s face went iron-gray. “Serena, you’re asking for death.” “Since you love acting insane so much, you can stay in there and rot.” The video cut to black with a single click. Then came a hollow rumble from inside the walls—the sound of water flowing through the pipes vanished all at once. He hadn’t just cut the power. He’d remotely shut off the main water valve. I dragged myself to the sink and twisted the faucet. A few residual drops fell—plink, plink—and then nothing. No water. No electricity. No communication. He’d driven me into a dead end, then turned around to be with another woman while she gave birth. My back against the cold bathroom tile, I gasped for air. The blood beneath me had soaked through my entire nightgown, and the metallic smell filled the cramped bathroom, so thick it tasted sweet. The baby was getting quieter. The little feet that had been desperately kicking moments ago now only produced faint, intermittent squirms. “No… no…” I pressed both palms against my swollen belly, and the tears finally broke free. “Don’t be afraid.” “Mama will fight to the death to save you.” Gritting my teeth, I fumbled through the storage cabinet beneath the sink. My fingertips touched something cold and metallic—a pair of rusted scissors. This was my last tool.

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“Ms. Hayes, as you requested, we have prepared a body identical to yours. It will be delivered on time to your wedding with Mr. Vanderbilt in ten days.” Hearing the confirmation from the person on the other end of the line, Vanessa Hayes tightened her grip on the phone. The tension that had been coiling in her chest for days finally loosened, just a little. “Thank you. Your service has been excellent.” “This is what we do. Rest assured, the body’s realism is sufficient to pass a preliminary visual inspection by a coroner. It will not raise any immediate suspicion.” … Before ending the call, Vanessa went over a few more details with them, confirming every last point. Only then did she push the door open and walk back into the private club’s VIP room. The room had been filled with the loud, brash laughter of young money. The moment she pushed the door open, it was as if someone had hit a mute button. Benedict Vanderbilt, who was sitting at the head of the table, stood up immediately. He took her hand, his eyes full of concern, and quickly signed in ASL. “Sweetheart, what took you so long? Are you feeling unwell? Let me take you home to rest.” He was already putting an arm around her waist, ready to leave. Vanessa looked at his deep blue eyes, which held only her reflection, and a bitter ache rose in her throat. She shook her head gently, mouthing her reply. “I’m fine. Stay with your friends. I don’t want to ruin the mood.” Benedict double-checked with her several times before he finally led her back to her seat beside him. The room’s atmosphere heated up again. A man named Parker lifted his whiskey glass, grinning widely at Benedict. “Hey, Benedict, you and Vanessa are about to tie the knot. So what are you going to do about that little assistant you’ve got stashed in your downtown apartment?” Vanessa’s nails dug silently into her palms. The man next to Parker elbowed him in the ribs. “Dude, watch it. Vanessa is sitting right here.” Parker just shrugged, not caring at all. “What’s the big deal? It’s not like she can hear us. I’m just curious. I want to know how our Wall Street golden boy plans to handle his little pet.” Everyone at the table turned their eyes to Benedict. “I’m keeping her.” Benedict used his fork to expertly shell the lobster tail on Vanessa’s plate, arranging the snow-white meat neatly in front of her before he continued, completely unhurried. “She’s nothing but a bit of fun. The only woman I love is Vanessa.” “But if Vanessa ever found out, she would leave me. So I’ve kept it well hidden. Even after we’re married, she will never find out.” He then swept a warning glare around the table. “All of you—keep your mouths shut. If anyone breathes a word of this in front of Vanessa, don’t blame me for erasing you completely from New York’s social circle.” These men all moved in the same circles of wealth and privilege. The “a wife at home and a mistress on the side” routine was nothing new to them. Hearing Benedict’s words, they just clicked their tongues in amusement. “Man, you must be exhausted, having to hide a mistress like that. My wife stopped caring what I do in Palm Beach a long time ago.” “You think Benedict is like you, spreading it around everywhere? The man’s just keeping things fresh, get it?” One of them, eyes bright with gossip, leaned in closer. “Benedict, since Vanessa can’t hear—have you and your little assistant ever, you know, in that penthouse of yours on the Upper East Side…” He trailed off, leaving the rest to everyone’s imagination. Benedict let out a short laugh, twisting the engagement ring on his finger as he answered casually. “Of course. It’s very— stimulating.” The room erupted in loud wolf whistles and applause as everyone at the table gave him a thumbs-up. “You’re the man!” “I bet you’ve christened every corner of that apartment, haven’t you, buddy?” “Looks like marrying Vanessa won’t slow down your ‘private projects’ with that assistant one bit.” The flattery poured in one after another. Not a single person noticed that Vanessa’s knuckles were white around her knife and fork. No one knew that her surgery in Switzerland had been a complete success. Her hearing had been restored for a while now. And even more, no one knew that she had already decided to leave. She was never going to marry Benedict Vanderbilt. On the day of the wedding, all that would be left for Benedict was a “body” that looked exactly like her. Out of the corner of his eye, Benedict saw the untouched lobster meat on her plate. He immediately signed. “Sweetheart, why aren’t you eating?” Vanessa looked up at the man before her, at his eyes full of concern, and forced a stiff smile. She signed back. “What were you all talking about? You seemed so excited.” Benedict smiled tenderly. He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her skin. “They were admiring us. They were saying we’ll be the most loving couple in all of New York, that our wedding will be the legend of the social season.” He made the sign for “I love you,” his gaze focused and deeply affectionate. The other people in the room exchanged meaningful looks. Vanessa saw the mockery in their eyes as clear as day. Her heart felt as if it had been dropped into a glass of martini, full of ice. Bone-chillingly cold. They were clearly talking about his dirty affairs with his mistress, yet he could look her in the face and say they were admiring their love. Benedict, I never knew you could lie without even blinking.

Vanessa put down her fork and knife and stood up. She didn’t want to hear another word of these hollow lies. Seeing her rise, Benedict quickly got up with her, signing to ask what was wrong. Vanessa shook her head and spoke softly—she knew he could read lips. “I’m tired. I want to go home and rest.” She didn’t wait for Benedict’s response and walked straight out of the private room. Stepping onto Sixth Avenue, Vanessa looked up. On the giant digital screen across the street in Times Square, the video of Benedict proposing to her was still playing on a loop. “Vanessa Hayes, marry me!”—those words were plastered boldly across the center of the screen. Tourists passing by were stopping to look up at the screen, sighing with envy. “Oh my god, I heard that Mr. Vanderbilt’s girlfriend is deaf. So when he proposed, he rented out the biggest screen in all of Times Square just so she could clearly see the words ‘Marry Me.’ After she said yes, he kept the video running for an entire month so the whole world could witness it.” “That man must love his girlfriend so much. He’s going to be the perfect husband.” As the subject of all this talk, Vanessa just curled her lips in a sardonic smile. Just one week ago, she would have reacted exactly like these strangers—believing wholeheartedly in Benedict’s love, thinking he would be a wonderful husband. She had grown up bouncing between foster homes. At the age of nine, a severe fever and medical negligence had cost her her hearing permanently. From that point on, she became the target of relentless bullying at school. Day after day of cruelty made her build high walls around her heart, sealing herself firmly inside. That was when Benedict appeared. He fell for her at first sight and pursued her with a textbook example of relentless passion. But she had seen these kinds of performances many times before. He confessed his feelings ninety-nine times, and she rejected him ninety-nine times. Until that day. They were inspecting a construction site downtown together when the scaffolding suddenly collapsed. Without a moment’s hesitation, he shielded her with his own body. A steel rebar pierced straight through his shoulder blade, yet he held his protective position, not moving an inch. When he woke up in the hospital, still extremely weak, the very first thing he did was struggle to make a single sign. “You’re safe… thank god.” It was then that she realized, just to be able to truly communicate with her, he had hired the best teacher and spent three months in intensive American Sign Language training. The walls around her heart cracked open for him in that moment. Later, the wound left a permanent, circular brown scar. Every time she saw that scar, her heart would flutter uncontrollably. For the five years they were together, he was so good to her it was beyond reproach, making her feel his sincerity with absolute certainty. Even when the elder members of the Vanderbilt family objected in every way possible, he still defied the immense pressure and proposed to her. So that she could hear Benedict say “I do” with her own ears at the wedding, and to spare him from being torn between his family and her, she had risked the possibility of dying on the operating table and flown to Switzerland for the most advanced experimental hearing restoration treatment. God must have been looking out for her. The surgery was a success. She planned to surprise Benedict on their wedding day, so she kept the fact that her hearing had returned a secret. She had fantasized about it more times than she could count—how overjoyed Benedict would be when he found out she could hear at the ceremony. But the last thing she ever expected was that on the day she returned from Europe, she would overhear Benedict on the phone with his female assistant. The two of them were flirting, completely unrestrained and explicit beyond belief. That was when Vanessa realized the truth. He had been messing around with his assistant behind her back for a long time. Their affair had been going on for an entire year, and she had been completely in the dark! A violent pain tore through her heart. She crouched down, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. Benedict’s dismissive word from the private room echoed over and over in her head. “Keeping her.” Even though they were about to get married, he had absolutely no intention of ending that affair. Did Benedict think that just because she couldn’t hear, he could fool her for a lifetime? The cold winter wind sliced through the collar of her coat. The chill seeped deep into her bones, but her mind only grew clearer. She would show Benedict with hard facts that lies always get exposed in the end. And she, Vanessa Hayes, would never tolerate betrayal.

Vanessa took a deep breath, forcing down the stabbing pain in her heart, and was about to stand up and go home. A pair of large hands caught her from behind. “Sweetheart, why didn’t you wait for me? Are you not feeling well today? Let me take you to try on your wedding dress. The custom gown from Paris has arrived. Let’s go see if you like it. If not, I’ll have the designer fly here immediately to make changes.” Benedict pulled her into his arms, ruffling her hair with doting affection. “I don’t want to go. You decide on the dress.” She was going to “leave” on the day of the wedding. It made no difference to her what that dress looked like. Benedict seemed to pick up on her coldness. He signed carefully, a hint of real panic in his eyes. “Vanessa, it feels like you’re not looking forward to our wedding at all. Are you… are you having second thoughts about marrying me?” Vanessa looked at the man in front of her. There was genuine fear in his expression. She felt a powerful urge to tell him. Yes, I’m not marrying you. You’re the one who cheated. You’re the one who trampled our love into the dirt. You’re the one who destroyed all my anticipation for this marriage. And now, you have the nerve to ask me that? But she wasn’t ready to lay her cards on the table just yet. Inside the high-end bridal boutique on Madison Avenue, the moment Vanessa and Benedict walked in, a sales associate pulled back the velvet curtain, revealing the wedding gown that had been waiting for her. “Ms. Hayes, the custom Zuhair Murad gown Mr. Vanderbilt ordered for you from Paris has arrived. Please, have a look and let us know if there’s anything that needs altering.” As soon as the associate finished speaking, the ASL interpreter standing by stepped forward and translated the words into sign language. Watching this, the other associates murmured among themselves, their voices brimming with envy. “Mr. Vanderbilt is so incredibly thoughtful. He even brought a sign language interpreter.” “That’s not all. Look at the main diamond on the bodice. That’s the ‘Heart of Dawn’ that Mr. Vanderbilt won at a Sotheby’s auction. He specifically instructed the designer to set it right over the heart of the dress.” “I also heard he paid a fortune to buy out the designer’s entire schedule for the year, just so he could focus solely on designing this one dress for Ms. Hayes.” The admiration in their voices made the corners of Benedict’s mouth curl up slightly. He stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Vanessa’s waist. “Baby, do you like it?” Right over the heart of the dress was a pink diamond the size of a pigeon’s egg. The train stretched a full five yards, encrusted with countless smaller diamonds. Under the spotlights, the entire gown shimmered with a dizzying brilliance. Vanessa reached out and gently touched the skirt. There was no denying it. This dress suited her taste perfectly. When they were dating, she had mentioned countless times that her favorite color was pink and that her dream wedding dress was a glamorous gown with a long train. Benedict had carefully filed away every one of those details, and the result was this nearly perfect creation before her eyes. But it was a pity. No matter how beautiful the dress, no matter how dazzling the diamond, it couldn’t fill the crack in her heart. “Vanessa, look at the very center of the diamond. It’s engraved with ‘B & V forever.’” “Diamonds are forever. I had the initials of our names engraved there to show that my love for you is also eternal.” Vanessa’s gaze instinctively moved to the diamond. Right in the center, there was indeed a tiny line of letters engraved. She turned around to face him, looking straight into his eyes, which were overflowing with love. Her heart trembled slightly, and she asked in a low voice. “Is your love for me really eternal?” Benedict signed back urgently, as if afraid that a split-second delay might cause her to misunderstand. “I, Benedict Vanderbilt, will love Vanessa Hayes forever. In this life—no, for all eternity. I will never betray her. If I break this vow, may I lose my reputation and everything I own.” Such passionate words of devotion, yet they couldn’t warm a heart that had already gone completely cold. He had already broken his vow, and yet he was still performing for her. Wasn’t he tired? Vanessa looked away, unwilling to face his hypocritical face any longer. Benedict looked like he wanted to say something more, but his phone suddenly rang. He glanced at the caller ID, and his expression flickered. He strode a few paces away, away from anyone who might overhear, and took the call. When he came back, an apologetic look had settled on his face. “Sweetheart, something urgent just came up at the company. An emergency acquisition. I have to go back right away. You go ahead and try on the dress. Just tell the associates if you need anything changed. I’ll have my driver take you home when you’re done.” After finishing his signing, he didn’t even take the time to give her a hug like he usually did. He just hurried into his car, leaving her with nothing but a view of his back as he sped away. After Benedict left, the associates erupted in excited whispers. “Oh my god, that confession Mr. Vanderbilt just made was so touching. I’m practically in tears.” “He’s rushing off to handle a business deal worth tens of millions, but he still didn’t forget to carefully remind his fiancée about everything. What an incredible, perfect man.” Vanessa’s heart was filled with nothing but bitter irony. Benedict never used to leave her alone because of work. And besides, when he came back from taking that call, there was an unmistakable flash of desire in his eyes. How could it possibly be work? It was likely a booty call with his little mistress, Sabrina. Vanessa’s mouth twisted in a humorless smile as she turned and walked toward the exit. An associate hurried to stop her. “Ms. Hayes, you haven’t tried on the dress yet.” Vanessa shook her head calmly. “There’s no need to try it on.” On the day of the wedding, a bride’s “body” would be the only thing showing up. This dress was completely useless.

When she returned to the apartment on Park Avenue, her phone chimed with a notification. Vanessa tapped the screen. It was an iMessage from an unknown number. A photo. In the picture, Benedict was shirtless, his back facing the camera. Sabrina was wearing a strapless, fishtail-style wedding dress. The floor-length skirt had been pushed all the way up to her waist, her two smooth, slender legs wrapped tightly around Benedict’s toned waist. The pose was ambiguous to the extreme. Immediately after, another message came. A video. Sabrina’s face was flushed. She hooked her arms around Benedict’s neck, her voice breathy and broken, laced with post-coital laziness. “Benedict… my dress just arrived from Paris today, and you’ve already wrinkled it.” Benedict chuckled and leaned close to Sabrina’s ear. His voice was low and hoarse with lust. “You wanted this dress so I could see you in it, right?” “I already fulfilled your request—I had Vanessa’s wedding dress designer make you one, too. Tonight, shouldn’t you be fulfilling mine?” Sabrina let out a soft, coy gasp. The video cut off abruptly. As if that wasn’t enough, the sender added another text message. “Oops, almost forgot Ms. Hayes can’t hear. What a shame. I’ll make sure to add subtitles for her next time ;)” Vanessa’s knuckles went white as she gripped the phone.Tears streamed down her face, splashing onto the cold marble floor. She had never known that a human heart could be split in two. Having the same top-tier designer create wedding dresses for two different women—Benedict, is this what you call love? This kind of love was something she simply couldn’t bear. Something she didn’t even want. She forced down the searing pain in her chest and lifted a hand to wipe away her tears. The engagement ring on her ring finger flashed into her vision. Vanessa stared at it for a long moment. Then, without a second thought, she pulled it off and dropped it down the kitchen garbage disposal. This was the ring Benedict had personally visited Tiffany’s head designer to help design and learn from. After the design was complete, he had flown to Antwerp to pick the center diamond himself, and had completed the final setting under the guidance of a master craftsman. He had been personally involved in every step. When he proposed, he said that only a ring made by his own hands was worthy of their love. He told her that whenever she touched it, she would feel his heartbeat and his promise. But now, his love had gone bad. This ring had naturally lost its original meaning, too. It wasn’t until late at night that Benedict came back. Vanessa felt the mattress on his side of the bed dip. A mixed scent of “Jasmine Noir” perfume and post-coital musk wafted from him. The image of the two bodies tangled together in that video instantly flooded her mind. She couldn’t control it. She bolted up and rushed to the bathroom, retching. Seeing her so miserable, Benedict was frantic. He immediately tried to call the family doctor. “Sweetheart, did you eat something bad at dinner? Let me call Dr. Evans right away!” Vanessa, red-eyed, pressed her hand down on his to stop him. She mouthed the words. “I’m fine. I just… thought of some pictures and a video that made me sick.” Benedict crouched down beside her, patting her back with a pained, worried expression on his face. “Don’t look at those kinds of messes anymore. Seeing you like this breaks my heart.” As if afraid his signing wasn’t enough to convey his heartache, he took her hand and pressed it against his own chest, letting her feel his heart pounding fiercely. Vanessa’s gaze drifted downward instinctively. Her eyes immediately caught the distinct red marks peeking out from the open collar of his shirt. She was hit by another uncontrollable wave of nausea, gagging again. What kind of mental fortitude did Benedict possess, to be able to come to her covered in another woman’s marks and put on such a deeply affectionate act? Seeing this, Benedict grew even more anxious. “Who sent you those photos and videos? Who did this to my Vanessa? If I find out, I’ll make sure they pay!” A bitter smile touched Vanessa’s lips. Benedict, the person who did this to me is you. She didn’t want to look at that hypocritical face anymore. She pushed him out of the bedroom and locked the door. “Tonight, I want to sleep alone.” Benedict’s worried calls kept coming from outside the door. But she acted as if she hadn’t heard a thing, got straight into bed, and lay down. Benedict’s flippant words from the video kept echoing in her mind. After she got together with Benedict, he had promised to give her a kind of devotion unmatched anywhere in New York. Back then, she thought he was the knight who had rescued her from a world of gray silence. But now she could see the truth. He was the devil dragging her into an even deeper hell. He had given her a love carved into her very bones, and then delivered a killing blow straight to her soul. Vanessa closed her eyes. A tear slipped silently from the corner. If she could do it all over again, she would rather have never met Benedict Vanderbilt. The next morning, Vanessa opened the bedroom door to find Benedict leaning against the doorframe. There was a slightly wronged look on his face. “Sweetheart, why did you shut me out? Was it because I left you alone at the bridal shop yesterday? Are you mad at me? I swear, I really did have an emergency acquisition to deal with. Please, can you forgive me?” An emergency acquisition? Rushing off to sleep with Sabrina—to him, that probably did qualify as an “urgent project.” Vanessa didn’t expose his lie. She only had eight days left before she left. He would find out soon enough that she had known everything all along. She shook her head. “I’m not mad. Work is important. I understand.” Her calm, even tone made Benedict’s heart lurch with sudden anxiety. He immediately refuted her. “No! Of course my Vanessa is the most important thing! I will never leave you alone again.” After signing, he pulled her forcefully into his arms, as if wanting to fuse her into his very bones so they’d never be separated again. Vanessa didn’t respond. Never again? There would never be an “again” for them.

Maybe it was a guilty conscience. For the next few days, Benedict didn’t leave her side for a moment. He handled company business from home while double-checking the final details with the wedding planner. That changed when a charity gala was held at the Met. Benedict, as one of the main sponsors, had no choice but to attend. He insisted that Vanessa come with him. Before she could even refuse, he had already summoned his personal styling team to their door. It wasn’t until they arrived at the gala that Vanessa discovered Sabrina was also there. She was wearing a tight, deep-V Tom Ford gown that left little of her perfect figure to the imagination. Holding a glass of champagne, she walked up to them with a polished smile. “Mr. Vanderbilt. Ms. Hayes.” Vanessa studied the woman before her. Sabrina was poised and completely at ease, acting as if she and the woman who had sent those taunting messages last night were two entirely different people. Oscar-worthy acting, just like Benedict. Vanessa had clearly seen the flicker in Benedict’s eyes when they landed on Sabrina, the subtle roll of his Adam’s apple. Yet he kept a firm grip on her hand, only giving Sabrina a cold, impersonal nod—the perfect picture of a boss. As soon as people at the gala spotted Benedict, they flocked over with champagne glasses to network. A few wives of finance tycoons tried to chat with Vanessa. But she maintained her role as someone with no hearing, giving no reaction to any of the conversation around her. Benedict smiled and explained on her behalf to everyone. Then, worried she might be bored, he personally went to the refreshment table and selected her favorite macarons, placing a glass of sparkling water by her hand. The wives gushed with praise. “Benedict is truly the perfect gentleman.” “We’ve long heard that his devotion to his fiancée is on another level. Seeing it firsthand today, the rumors don’t do it justice.” Vanessa kept her eyes lowered. Her long lashes concealed the mockery in her gaze. Just as everyone was chatting, Benedict’s phone buzzed. He checked it, and his expression shifted slightly. With an apologetic tone, he said to the group, “Excuse me, everyone, there’s an urgent work matter I need to handle.” He didn’t forget to sign to Vanessa. “Sweetheart, something urgent came up. Sit here and wait for me. I’ll be right back.” Almost subconsciously, Vanessa swept her eyes across the ballroom. Sabrina was gone, too. A moment later, her own phone buzzed. Sabrina had sent her a message. It was a screenshot of a chat. In the screenshot, Sabrina had sent a photo of her bare back. The zipper of her gown was pulled all the way down, leaving everything to the imagination. Below the picture was the message. “Benedict, I can’t zip up my dress. Could you come help me?” Benedict had only replied with two short words. “Your location.” Immediately after, Sabrina sent another text. “He couldn’t even wait. Just took me in a private lounge on the third floor. There were waitstaff passing right outside in the hallway. So thrilling. He took me twice. My legs are so weak I can barely walk. It’s a feeling you could never give him.” “Oh, and we didn’t use protection. And it’s not the first time. He said if it happens, it happens, and I can keep it. For all I know, his future heir might already be inside me.” Vanessa squeezed her eyes shut, pressing hard against her chest to try and ease the tearing pain. He was so desperate he couldn’t even wait a few hours? Her phone buzzed again. She thought it was another round of provocation from Sabrina. Instead, it was an encrypted email from the special effects studio. “Ms. Hayes, your new identity has been prepared. We have booked you a flight to London departing at six p.m., five days from now. Please confirm once more whether to proceed with the final plan.” Vanessa opened her camera, aimed it at her own face, and recorded a short video. “I can confirm I’m leaving.” The words had barely left her mouth when a panicked voice sounded behind her. “Leaving? Vanessa, you’re leaving?”

Vanessa instinctively wanted to turn around but immediately remembered that her “deaf” status hadn’t been exposed yet. She forced herself to freeze. Benedict rushed around to face her, his eyes wild with genuine terror. “Sweetheart, you’re leaving me? Our wedding is right around the corner. Where are you going?” Seeing her absolute lack of reaction, Benedict snapped back to his senses and quickly repeated himself in sign language. Vanessa’s expression remained perfectly calm. “It’s a friend of mine. She’s leaving New York.” Benedict studied her face intently. Only after confirming that her expression was cool and she showed no signs of lying did he let out a long breath of relief. “Oh, thank god. Vanessa, do you have any idea how close my heart came to stopping just now? I honestly can’t even imagine how I would go on living if you ever left me.” Benedict held her tightly in his arms, his face etched with lingering fear. Listening to this deeply moving declaration, Vanessa’s heart was utterly unmoved. If you’re so terrified of me leaving, then why did you betray me? Was it because you thought I couldn’t hear, so you felt invincible? What a pity. I hate to disappoint you. The fear in Benedict’s heart hadn’t yet subsided when he wrapped his arm around her waist, ready to leave the gala. “Sweetheart, let’s go home. From this moment on, I won’t let you out of my sight for a single second.” “What about your assistant?” “She wasn’t feeling well. She already left early.” Hearing the lie roll so smoothly off his tongue, Vanessa felt nothing but biting sarcasm. Just as they reached the VIP parking area of the underground garage, Vanessa spotted Sabrina in a struggle with a man. The man had one hand clamped around Sabrina’s wrist, refusing to let her leave. His other hand was about to slide up her waist. Sabrina yanked herself free and whipped a hard slap across his face. Enraged, the man grabbed a champagne bottle from a nearby service cart and smashed it toward her. In that split-second, all Vanessa felt was the arm around her waist suddenly vanish. Benedict lunged forward and shielded Sabrina tightly in his arms. The bottle smashed hard against his shoulder. Sharp glass shredded through the expensive suit fabric and into his skin. Bright red blood instantly soaked into his white dress shirt. Benedict’s face darkened with a terrifying fury. First, he quickly checked that Sabrina in his arms was unharmed. Then he grabbed the man by the collar and slammed his fist into his face, punch after brutal punch. “Who the hell gave you the nerve to touch my woman! You’re dead!” As soon as the man got a clear look at Benedict’s face, he was so terrified he started begging for mercy and didn’t dare fight back. Off to the side, a shard of flying glass had cut a thin streak of blood across Vanessa’s cheek. But she felt nothing. She just stood there, silent and still, watching the enraged man. The scene before her eyes slowly merged with a memory. Five years ago, not long after she and Benedict had started dating, they had attended a similar gala. That was the first time she had appeared in public as Benedict Vanderbilt’s girlfriend. His reputation as a “devoted knight” hadn’t yet taken root in everyone’s mind. When people realized she couldn’t hear, she saw the contempt and mockery in their eyes with perfect clarity. After Benedict was pulled aside by a business partner to talk shop, a few men with bad intentions surrounded her. They all assumed she was nothing more than a temporary plaything for Benedict. Even though she couldn’t hear the words coming out of their mouths, she could read the taunting, lecherous intent written all over their faces. She wanted to call for help but was terrified of causing trouble for Benedict. All she could do was warn them off with her eyes, again and again. The only response she got was even deeper ridicule from the men. Just as one man’s hand was about to touch her cheek, Benedict drop-kicked the man several feet away. Then, his eyes blazing red with rage, he pinned the man to the ground and beat him bloody. Afterward, he ordered his assistants to use every means possible to bankrupt these men’s family businesses on Wall Street. From that point on, everyone knew the rule. Vanessa Hayes was Benedict Vanderbilt’s forbidden territory. No one was allowed to touch her. Now, the exact same scene was playing out. Except the woman he was shielding in his arms wasn’t her anymore.

On the way to the private hospital, Benedict finally noticed the cut on Vanessa’s cheek. After beating that man, he had been busy comforting the trembling Sabrina ever since. Once they arrived at the hospital, he completely ignored his own bleeding shoulder and insisted the doctor treat the wound on Vanessa’s face first. “The wedding is right around the corner. There can’t be a single flaw on my Vanessa’s face!” After saying that, he turned to her and signed, his eyes flooding with guilt. “Baby, this is all my fault. I only protected her just now because Sabrina is my subordinate. It was my duty as her employer. Please don’t be mad at me, okay?” Vanessa didn’t answer. She just signaled to the doctor to ignore her wound and focus on treating Benedict’s shoulder. It wasn’t like she was even going to show up at that wedding. Whether there was a scar on her face or not didn’t matter. Benedict, however, took this as a sign that she was worried about him. Pure emotion swelled in his expression. The doctor cut away the custom-made dress shirt, soaked through with blood, exposing the ghastly wound underneath. Only then did Vanessa notice that the location of the wound was exactly the same spot as the scar left by the piercing rebar from that accident five years ago. Now, the circular scar that had witnessed the very beginning of their love was covered by a fresh new wound. There wasn’t a trace of it left to see. For a moment, she felt dazed. It seemed even God was sending a sign—their relationship was already a thing of the past. After leaving the hospital, Sabrina wrapped her arms around herself, trembling, and choked out the words to Benedict. “Benedict… tonight… can I stay at your place?” Seeing Sabrina in such a rare state of vulnerability, Benedict’s heart softened a little. He carefully watched Vanessa’s expression as he tentatively signed to her. “Sweetheart, my assistant Sabrina was really shaken up tonight. Would it be alright if she stayed at our place for one night? Just in the guest room.” As if terrified she might misunderstand, he hurriedly added. “I don’t mean anything else by it. As her boss, it’s just my responsibility to make sure an employee’s emotional state is stable.” Watching his anxious expression, Vanessa’s nails dug into her palms unconsciously. Did he actually want to brazenly bring that woman into their home? Then, a self-deprecating smile touched her lips. Forget it. She would be gone soon enough. Once she left, Sabrina would move into that apartment sooner or later anyway. Why even bother caring now? “Whatever,” she mouthed. Probably because she was there, Benedict barely spoke to Sabrina during the entire drive. Whenever Sabrina tried to talk to him, he would silence her with a look. Vanessa didn’t want to watch this two-person show any longer. She closed her eyes and rested against the soft leather seat of the Bentley. When they got home, Benedict sent Sabrina, despite the resentful look in her eyes, to the guest room on the second floor. Back in the master bedroom, Benedict retrieved the first-aid kit. He used a cotton swab soaked in iodine to gently treat the cut on her face. “Vanessa, I know you were thinking of me. But how could you tell the doctor to leave your wound untreated? If it left a scar, it would break my heart.” After finishing with the wound, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I will never let you get hurt again. Today really was just a freak accident. When I saw my employee being bullied, I just jumped in without thinking.” “I mean, an attack on my employee is a direct slap in my face. How could I stand for that? You understand, right, baby?” Benedict’s explanation sounded reasonable and well-founded. If Vanessa hadn’t already known about their relationship, and hadn’t clearly seen the possessive fury blazing in his eyes, she might have actually believed him. She offered no words of understanding. She just said she was tired and wanted to sleep. Benedict immediately moved to do what he always did. He brought her a warm glass of milk and gently patted her back, coaxing her to sleep. Late in the night, a loud clap of thunder woke Vanessa. Disoriented and half-asleep, she instinctively reached to snuggle up to the person beside her. Her arms closed around nothing but empty space. The cold touch of the sheets jolted her fully awake. She got up and went downstairs. Just as she reached the top of the staircase on the second floor, she heard a woman’s suppressed moans. She halted, forced down the bitter ache rising in her heart, and moved one step at a time toward the guest bedroom door. The guest bedroom door was wide open. In the warm yellow light of the bedside lamp, two completely bare bodies were entangled together.

Sabrina had both hands locked around the back of Benedict’s neck. Her face was flushed with the heat of arousal, and she was panting out desperate, helpless breaths. “Benedict… no more… I can’t…” Benedict buried his head against her chest, his voice thick and husky. “A man put his hands on you today. I’m going to leave my mark all over you. Don’t even think about resting until I say it’s over.” Sabrina tilted her head back, gasping for air as she spoke. “Tell me… what if Ms. Hayes saw…” Before she could finish, Benedict stopped moving. His face cold, he cut her off. “She can’t hear. She’ll never find out. You are not to bring our affairs to her.” Sabrina pouted pitifully, trailing her fingers in little circles over his solid chest. “I know… it’s just… the thought of her becoming your wife soon, while I’m nothing but a dirty secret… it makes me sad.” Seeing her act so pitiful softened something in Benedict. He pinched her cheek. “You jealous little thing. I’ve already brought you into my home. What more do you want?” “Rest assured, even after I’m married, I won’t leave you. I’ll give you whatever you want. Whatever Vanessa has, I’ll make sure you get one, too.” Only then did a smile bloom back onto Sabrina’s face. “Then I want you to stay with me until the wedding.” Benedict hesitated for a couple of seconds, but seeing the pleading, dewy look in the woman’s eyes, he agreed. “Fine.” Sabrina’s eyes lit up. She leaned in close to his ear, her breath warm and suggestive. “And… I want to devour you right now.” The look in Benedict’s eyes instantly darkened. He grabbed her by the waist, and the two of them tangled together once more. A flash of lightning from outside the window illuminated Vanessa’s pale face in the doorway. Her hand was clamped so tightly over her mouth to stop herself from sobbing that her whole body shook. Tears had long since blurred her vision. She had seen the taunting videos Sabrina sent. But the pain they caused was nothing, not even a fraction, compared to what she was witnessing with her own two eyes right now. Every moan, every single suggestive whisper, was like a poison-dipped blade, stabbing her heart into a bloody, shredded mess. The sounds from inside the room grew louder. Unable to listen for another second, Vanessa turned and fled. Back in the bedroom, she curled up on the bed, hugging herself with all her might. But she felt no warmth at all. The piercing moans echoed in her ears without end. She pressed her hands desperately against her ears, but it was useless. Barefoot, she went downstairs and ran out without looking back, disappearing into the pouring rain. Outside, thunder roared and lightning cracked. But it was as if she felt none of it. The only thing in her mind was that the luxury penthouse behind her looked like a monster with a gaping, bloodthirsty mouth. She needed to get as far away as possible. She walked numbly down the empty Fifth Avenue. The rain soaked her to the bone. She could barely keep her eyes open. In her daze, the rain seemed to stop. She looked up. It was as if she saw a younger Benedict, holding an umbrella over her. His eyes were filled with an intense, almost palpable sense of regret. “Vanessa, leave him. Leave the version of me who no longer loves you. Don’t forgive him.” Red-eyed, she looked at the man who had once loved her so sincerely. Fine. I will definitely leave him. I will never forgive. It was almost dawn by the time Vanessa returned home in a trance. She had just peeled off her wet clothes and collapsed into bed when Benedict carefully opened the bedroom door. As he always did, he gently tucked the covers in around her and pulled her tenderly into his arms. Then, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, he whispered. “Vanessa, I really do love you so much. In three days, you’ll finally be my wife. We’ll grow old together.” He spoke the words to himself, completely missing the single tear that slipped silently from Vanessa’s eye. She had read something online once. A man’s sudden tenderness is usually just guilt after cheating. She never understood what that meant before. Now, she was living it, feeling it in her bones. All she wanted now was for time to move faster. For the day she could leave to come sooner.

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