I left the house and jumped into my car without looking back. My phone kept buzzing with Derek's calls and messages, but I ignored every single one.

The divorce lawyer's office was quiet when I walked in. I slapped down my ID and marriage certificate, got the paperwork, and filled everything out in record time. The final document awaited only Derek's signature, and then I'd be free of his pathetic obsession with Tara.

When I walked out of that building, I smiled for the first time in months. The sun warmed my face as I breathed in sweet freedom.

I couldn't face going home. Instead, I did something I'd never dared before.

I pulled out my phone and logged into our joint account—the one Derek always controlled.

Five years of marriage, and he'd insisted we maintain one account with both our names on it for emergencies. I'd never touched it, not once.

My fingers traced the raised numbers. According to Derek, there was nearly $3.4 million in there. His rainy-day fund. His security blanket.

Too bad it was about to rain.

I transferred $2.5 million to the children's orphanage where I'd first met him. The same place where he'd fooled me with his fake kindness and warmth.

Next, I drove to Luxury Mannequins, the most exclusive display figure boutique in the city. The saleswoman's jaw dropped when I placed my order.

"You want... how many mannequins?" she stammered.

"Fifty-six," I replied calmly. "And I need them delivered today. I'll pay extra."

The truck was being loaded when Derek finally got through on my phone.

DEREK: "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO WITH MY MONEY?"

I responded. "Bought myself a divorce present with our emergency fund. Consider it payment for five years of fake marriage and real disappointment."

"You're out of your goddamn mind! Do you know what you've done? I needed that money—"

I ended the call and turned back to the saleswoman.

After finalizing my purchase, I headed straight to Derek's private garage where he kept his collection of luxury cars. The keypad code hadn't changed since I'd last seen him enter it.

Inside sat his most prized possession: a limited-edition Bugatti he'd never even let me touch. The one he'd always promised to take his precious Tara for a ride in someday.

I snapped a picture of myself sitting in the driver's seat and sent it to him with the message: "Permit me to use your prized and treasured possession."

His reply was immediate: "DON'T YOU DARE."

The engine purred to life and I felt a rush of power as I pulled out onto the open road. At every stoplight, I snapped photos and posted them to my social media. Finally getting what I deserve, I captioned them.

By evening I pulled into Giovanni's, the most expensive restaurant in town.

The hostess led me to a table by the window. I ordered everything expensive on the menu—the aged steak, the rare caviar, the champagne. I was halfway through my Lobster when they burst through the door.

Derek looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. But it was Tara who charged toward me first.

"You BITCH! How dare you drive HIS car! That's my brother's baby!"

I took another bite of the Lobster. "Mmm. This is divine. You should try it—oh wait, you can't. I spent all your dinner money."

Derek grabbed a chair from a nearby table, dragging it across the floor.

"Do you have any idea what you've done? That account was for emergencies."

"This is an emergency," I replied. "My emergency exit from this sham of a marriage."

Tara's face had turned an alarming shade of red. "He promised we would ride in that car together for the first time! It was supposed to be OUR special moment!"

I took another bite of steak, chewing slowly before answering. "Well, I beat you to it."

"You've ruined everything!" Tara continued. "He's broke now because of you! He can't even buy me my favorite dessert for my birthday next week!"

Derek approached, grabbing Tara's arm but she wrenched free. "I've been with him since childhood. I'm the one who knows him, who understands him! You're just a gold-digging whore who stole him away! Now he's more focused on your drama than on me!"

I smiled coldly. "Not my fault if he married me instead of keeping his attention on you. Perhaps you should ask yourself why."

"Get away from our special table," Tara hissed, her hands trembling. "This is OUR place."

"Seems like a public restaurant to me." I took another bite.

"You don't deserve any of this. You don't deserve him!"

"Neither do you, apparently," I replied, watching her face contort.

Derek tried to pull her back, but she lunged forward, grabbing a steak knife from my table. Her eyes were wild and unhinged.

"You should just die for coming between us! Then I’ll have him all to myself." she screamed and drove the knife straight into my chest.

I woke up feeling like my chest had been torn apart.

Every heartbeat sent waves of pain through my skull. I tried to lift my hand but even that small movement felt like torture.

"She's waking up! Get the doctor!" a voice called out from somewhere above me.

I forced my eyes open, everything was a blur of white and shadow.

"Where am I?" My voice came out as a whisper.

"Northern Memorial Hospital," the nurse replied, adjusting something on the IV beside me. "You've been unconscious for nearly fourteen hours. Stab wound to the chest, missed your heart by centimeters. You're lucky to be alive."

I tried to swallow. "Who brought me in?”

The nurse nodded toward a corner of the room. "That young lady brought you in. She said she witnessed everything."

I turned my head slightly. A girl, probably in her early twenties with a messy ponytail and concerned eyes, offered a small wave.

"You saved me?" I whispered.

She nodded. "I was at Giovanni's celebrating my graduation. Saw everything. I used to be a lifeguard, so I knew to apply pressure until the ambulance arrived. Then I rode with you here."

"Thank you," I whispered.

"What about my husband? And Tara?" I asked, wincing as I tried to sit up.

The nurse's face darkened. She pulled out her phone and pressed play on a voicemail.

Derek's cold voice filled the room: "This is Derek Montclair. I received your call about Hazel. Do whatever you want with her. She deserves all of this for what she's done to me financially and emotionally. I have nothing more to do with her. Don't call this number again unless she's dead."

My fingers clutched the thin hospital blanket as I processed his words.

Just then, a notification pinged on the young girl’s phone. She frowned, glancing at the screen.

"What is it?" I asked, sensing her discomfort.

"You might not want to see this," she warned, but I snatched the phone from her hands anyway.

There on the screen was an Instagram post. Derek and Tara, tagged at the exact Maldives resort where Derek and I were supposed to have our honeymoon.

Tara was wearing the exact black lace lingerie he'd told me "didn't suit my body type." They were laughing, drinking champagne from the bottle. The caption read: "Finally where we belong. #AlwaysWasMeant2Be."

Another post showed them in our pack's sacred bonding cave—the place where Alpha with their Lunas traditionally consummate their marriages. Derek was holding Tara possessively, his lips against her neck.

"Son of a bitch," I whispered.

"You're about twenty, right?" I asked the girl who'd saved my life.

She nodded, confused.

"You recorded what happened at the restaurant, didn't you?"

Her eyes widened. "I—yes."

Without asking permission, I forwarded the video to myself.

"What are you doing?" the woman asked as I opened my social media account and uploaded the raw footage.

"Getting justice," I replied, watching as the likes and shares started multiplying by the second. The video went viral within minutes.

My phone rang—the police department. They confirmed they'd received multiple reports about the video and were opening an investigation.

An hour later, my phone rang again.

"Ms. Hazel?" the officer's voice sounded strained. "I regret to inform you that the case against Tara has been... dismissed."

"What?" I sat up despite the searing pain. "How is that possible? There's literal video evidence!"

“The footage has been flagged as manipulated. And we've received testimony that you were the aggressor."

The line went dead. I checked social media—the video had vanished from every platform as if it never existed.

That's when the door slammed open.

Derek stood there, his perfectly tailored suit contrasting with the wild rage in his eyes. Tara lurked behind him, her face twisted into a triumphant smile.

"You really thought you could destroy us with that edited video? You must be joking."

"Edited?" I laughed bitterly. "We both know what happened."

"What I know," he snarled, "is that you're going to post an apology video immediately. You'll explain that you doctored the footage because you're unstable and jealous of my relationship with Tara."

"Go to hell."

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Perhaps you don't understand the situation. My influence extends to this hospital too. One word from me, and the doctor will administer drugs that will render you genuinely mentally unstable." He leaned closer. "All of this happened because of you. You pushed Tara. You provoked her."

"I won't do it," I said.

Derek grabbed my rescuer by the arm, yanking her from her chair. He pressed his forearm against her throat. "Post the apology or this Good Samaritan will need her own hospital bed."

The young girl's eyes widened in terror.

With shaking hands, I recorded the apology, tears streaming down my face. The moment I posted it, Derek released the girl who collapsed gasping on the floor. He checked my post and nodded with satisfaction.

"Pack your things once you get better," he ordered. "You're coming home with us."

"Us?"

"Tara will be living with us now," he said. "She needs protection from false accusations. And you need to be reminded of your place."

He leaned over, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered: "This is just the beginning of your punishment, Luna Hazel."

For five days, I stared at the hospital ceiling. Each breath reminded me of how I'd abandoned everything for him.

My position as heiress to the Northern Lake pack and my family's legacy. All sacrificed for what I'd foolishly believed was love.

Now I lay broken in a hospital bed while Derek paraded around with his stepsister.

My phone chimed with a notification. With trembling fingers, I unlocked the screen. A new video from Tara.

They were at our favorite beach, the one where Derek had first told me he loved me. Tara was wearing my swimsuit, laughing as Derek chased her into the waves.

A second video arrived moments later. Tara was twirling in my wedding dress—the one I'd preserved in a box, waiting for an anniversary Derek would acknowledge. He stood behind her, his hands trailing down her sides as he whispered something in her ear.

"Remember when you said this dress was bad luck?" Tara's voice rang out. "Turns out it just needed the right bride."

I closed my phone and took a deep breath. Just five more days. Five days until my divorce was finalized and my visa to leave the country was processed. Five days until freedom.

Three days later, they discharged me. True to their word, Derek and Tara came to pick me up.

In the car, Tara's high-pitched voice grated against my nerves as she leaned over the front seat to face me.

"Oh my God, Hazel! You missed so much because of your unfortunate incident," she emphasized the word 'incident' as if I'd merely stubbed my toe rather than been stabbed by her. "Derek took me to the Diamond Falls last weekend. You know, that place he always refused to take you?"

Derek's eyes met mine briefly in the rearview mirror, cold and warning.

"And that's not all," Tara continued, practically bouncing in her seat. "We drove your car—I mean, the Bugatti—all around the state. Derek even signed it over to me. Isn't that right, baby?"

Derek reached over to squeeze her thigh. "Nothing but the best for you."

Tara squealed with delight before reaching into the footwell. "Oh! I almost forgot. I got you something, Hazel."

She passed back a small paper bag. "Go ahead, open it."

When I opened it, my stomach churned. Inside was a single heel—one I recognized from the photos she'd sent me covered in dirt and clearly rescued from a dumpster. Below it lay my black lace lingerie, torn and stained.

Without a word, I threw the bag back at her. The heel hit her shoulder, and she let out an exaggerated yelp.

Tears immediately sprang to her eyes. "Derek! She hurt me! I was just trying to be nice!"

"Why did you hurt her?" Derek roared, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. "She's trying her best to welcome you back, and this is how you repay her?"

Tara placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Don't shout at her, Derek darling. I'm sure it's because of the hospital trauma. She's still trying to recover her... sanity."

She reached into her purse and pulled out an amber prescription bottle. "Here, Hazel. The doctor gave me these for you. They'll help with your pain and... mood swings."

When I refused to take it, Derek grabbed my jaw roughly, forcing my mouth open as Tara shoved two pills onto my tongue. Derek clamped his hand over my mouth until I swallowed.

My vision blurred almost instantly. The world tilted and swayed around me as I slumped against the seat. The last thing I heard was Tara's giggle as darkness claimed me.

When I woke, my head pounded mercilessly and something itched against my skin. I looked down to find my body covered in fur—cat fur. My stomach dropped as I remembered my beloved cat, Jinx, who I'd left behind when I fled to the hospital.

"No, no, no," I whispered, staggering to my feet.

Racing upstairs, I threw open the door to my bedroom and froze at the threshold.

Jinx, my beloved cat who'd been my only comfort during years of a loveless marriage lay motionless on the blood-soaked sheets. Beside her sat Tara, scissors in hand, carefully removing strips of fur from my pet's lifeless body.

"Oh, you're awake!" Tara smiled, holding up a patch of orange and white fur. "Hope you don't mind. I've always wanted a fur-lined coat, and your cat had the most beautiful coloring."

I snapped. I ran forward with my fist connecting with Tara's face before she could react.

She fell back and slid on Jinx's blood, her white dress now stained red as she crashed hard onto the floor.