I clung desperately to the railing, but he pried my fingers off, one after another. The servants stood off in the distance, whispering amongst themselves. Not one of them dared step in.

My pajama top tore in the struggle, baring my skin to the icy air. Humiliation rushed back like a wave—the memory of last night, naked and punished in front of everyone. Christoph didn’t even flinch.

“So you’re still angry about last night,” he said coldly. “Fine. Be mad at me. But don’t take it out on others.”

“You’ll kneel right here and think about what you’ve done. When you finally understand your mistake, you’ll apologize to your sister-in-law. Don't you realize that people will begin to think that the Raders couldn't stand the sight of having a widower in their family?” With that, he threw me—hard—into the snow.

My knees slammed into the ice. The cold pierced through my thin pajamas like knives.

“Christoph, I didn’t do anything wrong.” I clenched my teeth, shivering, refusing to comply.

He scoffed, then turned to the butler with a sneer. “Gather everyone. Let them all see how petty you are.”

Within minutes, a dozen servants were lined up under the covered walkway, watching. I knelt alone in the snow, like a criminal awaiting her sentence.

“Say it again, I dare you!” Christoph snapped. “If you're so desperate for a man, I can hire a hundred of them to keep you company. But lay a hand on my sister-in-law again and you're done.”

His words cut deeper than if he’d stripped me naked and paraded me in front of a crowd.

This was the man I had loved for three years. The man I married and built a life with for five.

He could stomach other men seeing me bare. He could even stomach rumors of me sleeping around. Yet he couldn’t tolerate, won't even think twice, about me upsetting the woman he truly cared about.

Natalie stood smugly at his side, putting on that fake sweet voice she’d perfected, “Chris, let it go, okay? Gina probably just had a bad day…”

“Oh, so having a bad day gives her the right to hit people?” Christoph raised his voice, loud enough for the entire house to hear. “If she doesn’t apologize today, I don’t care if she passes out—she’s not getting up until she does!”

Snow began to fall. Within minutes, my hair and lashes were coated in a frosty white sheen. My fingers were numb, my lips trembling uncontrollably from the cold.

Natalie took the opportunity to crouch beside me, pretending to be concerned. But her words were knives, whispered only for me to hear. “Did you know Chris said you're not even worth a strand of my hair? That every time he touches you, he feels sick? Honestly, if I were you, I’d just die and get it over with.”

I looked up sharply and caught the cruel smile in her eyes.

Something inside me snapped. Rage boiled over. I grabbed a handful of snow and slammed it straight into her smug, pretty face.

Natalie suddenly let out a dramatic scream as she dropped to the ground like she’d been struck by lightning.

That was all it took for Christoph to lose it. He grabbed the front of my pajama top, yanked it open and shoved me down into the snow.

“Oh, so you still don’t want to admit your mistakes?”

Before I could react, he scooped up a handful of snow and shoved it down the front of my shirt. The freezing cold hit me like a shock to the system. I let out a scream I didn’t even know was in me.

But he didn’t stop. He kept rubbing snow into my face, my neck—rough, relentless, until my skin burned from the cold.

“Apologize!” he barked.

I choked on a mouthful of snow, coughing violently, tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t get a single word out.

Furious, Christoph stood up and turned to the butler. “Two hours. Start the clock. She doesn’t move until time’s up.”

Then, as if none of it had just happened, he gently took off his coat and wrapped it tenderly around Natalie’s shoulders.

“Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s go inside before you catch a chill.”

The two of them turned and walked away as if I didn’t exist. Their backs burned into my vision like a slap to the face.

Around me, the servants whispered. Some giggled. Others just stared with that look—pity, like I was already halfway gone.

Time dragged. The cold seeped deep into my bones. My knees had long since gone numb. I could feel myself swaying, losing control, until finally, I collapsed face-first into the snow.

“Madam!” Someone shouted in panic.

The door creaked open. Christoph enetered the room while fixing his cold gaze at me.

“Have you figured out what you did wrong yet?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Everything went dark and then—I was out.

When I came to, I was back in the bedroom, lying under a thick, heavy comforter. The heat in the room was suffocating, but I still couldn’t stop shivering.

“You’re awake?”

Christoph sat on the edge of the bed, holding a steaming cup of water.

“Take your meds,” he said, as if nothing had happened. “Why didn’t you say anything if you were feeling sick? Instead, you chose to throw a tantrum and cause a scene.”

I turned my face away, refusing to look at him.

“Don’t be so stubborn,” he said sharply. “Your fever’s hit 104. Are you trying to die?”

“Wouldn’t that be convenient for you?”

My voice was raw and raspy, barely more than a whisper. Christoph’s expression shifted—guilt and something like concern flickered across his face. For a moment, he didn’t look like the same man who’d shoved me into the snow.

He took advantage of my hesitation, grabbed my chin and forced the pills into my mouth, then tipped the cup of water after them.

I choked, coughing hard, water spilling down my chin and soaking my neck. I must’ve looked completely pathetic.

Right then, the door swung open.

Natalie walked in, her eyes glinting with triumph. “Chris, your mom’s here!”

A moment later, my mother-in-law appeared in the doorway, taking one look at me and gasping in shock.

“What on earth—Gina, what happened to you?”

Christoph let go of me, wiping the spilled water off his hand like it was nothing. “She’s just being dramatic. Got sick, threw a princess fit and now refuses to take her medicine.”

Jill immediately scolded her son for not taking better care of me. Then, smiling sweetly, she pulled out a beautifully wrapped gift box and held it out.

“Gina, this is something I picked out just for you.”

She gave me a subtle wink—her way of saying this is your reward for cooperating. Her eyes told me what she wanted: it was time I brought up the subject of letting Christoph officially “share” both women in the family.

I didn’t take the gift. My throat burned too much to speak and honestly, I didn’t want to say a single word. So I shut my eyes and turned away.

But she couldn’t wait.

Jill clutched Christoph’s hand eagerly. “Chris, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Gina mentioned something yesterday—she was thinking, since Nata’s been so loyal after your brother passed, maybe it’s time she had a child. It would give her someone to rely on, you know, for the future.”

The room fell silent.

Christoph’s face shifted—shock, then rage, like he’d just been slapped. “What the hell are you talking about, Mom?!”

Completely oblivious, she kept going, excited now, “It’s not just me, Gina brought it up. And honestly, I think it makes sense. What do you think?”

“Gina!” He spun toward me, fury written across his face.

“All this because I haven’t been intimate with you? Did you come up with something this insane to humiliate me? What happened to the love between us? And what the hell does that make Natalie—just a convenient womb to pass around?”

I opened my eyes, finally meeting the gaze of the man putting on a show like he hadn’t been sneaking around with her behind my back for God knows how long.

So I said calmly, “I brought it up. What—are you saying you’re not interested?”

My question caught Christoph mid-rant, his angry words dying in his throat.

He didn’t dare deny it—not really. But he also didn’t want to look too eager, didn’t want the truth in his eyes to betray the thrill he was trying to hide.

Before he could respond, Natalie suddenly burst into tears.

“Chris, I don’t know what I did to upset your wife so much… to make her humiliate me like this,” she sobbed, voice trembling just enough to sound believable. “I’m your sister-in-law. I’m a widow. People already talk enough about me… and now this…”

Christoph gently patted her shoulder, eyes full of pity. You could see the tension in him—how badly he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and play the hero. But instead, he turned to me, face hardening.

“Gina, I can’t believe how twisted you’ve become.”

Finally, Jill seemed to pick up on the shift in the room. Awkwardly, she tried to smooth things over.

“Chris, come on, can’t you just… do this one thing for your brother’s sake?” she said, her voice hopeful, a little desperate. “I know you want to protect your love with Gina, but the Raders can’t just… end with you. Can’t you think of it as helping your mother finally have a grandchild?”

Jill leaned in, her tone dropping as if she was just scheming.

“Once Nata gets pregnant, we’ll just say it was from your brother’s frozen sperm. A test-tube baby. No one will know the truth. It won’t affect your marriage with Gina at all…”

Christoph cut her off sharply. “Mom. It’s one thing for Gina to act out, but why are you feeding into this?”

He turned to me, his voice rising. “This is just her throwing a tantrum because I haven’t touched her in years!”

I let out a cold laugh, watching him perform like he was auditioning for an award.

What a joke. This marriage was beyond saving. Rotten to the core.

Christoph loved Natalie—that much was obvious. Yet for the sake of appearances, for her so-called “reputation,” he refused to divorce me and marry her outright.

He didn’t want to be labeled the man who left his wife for his sister-in-law. So instead, he did everything behind closed doors—every betrayal, every indecency—and used me as their cover. Their shield. Their excuse.

“The hell are you laughing at?” he snapped.

“Nothing,” I said softly.

I pushed myself up from the bed, weak but numb, my voice light—careless.

“It was just a passing suggestion. Do whatever you want.”

Something in Christoph’s expression shifted. His eyes burned red, fury clouding them—except… underneath the anger was something else. Glee. Satisfaction.

“Since you’re being so generous,” he said coldly, wrapping an arm around Natalie, “I’ll take you up on that.”

Then, with deliberate cruelty, he announced:

“I’ll be taking Nata abroad for a honeymoon. As for you—you’ll stay here and take care of Mom. And while you’re at it, you can learn how to care for a pregnant woman… and later, her baby.”

His mother lit up like it was Christmas morning. “Oh, Chris, that’s such a thoughtful idea. It’s better this way—Gina won’t have to watch you two together. It would only break her heart.”

Natalie blushed and leaned into him, all fake modesty and fluttering lashes, like some Victorian heroine in distress. She tried to act shy, to object.

Christoph silenced her with a kiss—right there, in front of me.

His mother cast a careful glance my way, clearly bracing for a reaction. Yet, I didn’t flinch. I just stared, face blank.

Apparently, that was enough to reassure her. “Chris, maybe just… tone it down a little in front of Gina, hmm?” she said gently, still watching me out of the corner of her eye.

This whole family... what a circus bunch. They really thought I didn’t see through all of it.

By the end of the day, Christoph had already booked the flights for next week’s European honeymoon.

He couldn’t wait.

After the fever finally broke, I quietly got to work.

I had to gather evidence. Real leverage. Enough to blow things up before they left for their honeymoon fairytale.

That night, while Christoph stayed late at the office, I slipped into the one place I’d never been allowed to enter: his bedroom.

Five years of marriage and I had never stepped foot in this room.

Christoph always said that "true, Platonic love" required boundaries. Emotional purity. Even his bedroom had been off-limits to me—his own wife.

The space was cold and clinical. Stark gray and white, not a single personal touch. Just like him—distant, sterile and controlled.

I searched everything—drawers, nightstands, under the bed. Nothing.

I was about to give up when I noticed something tucked away in the far corner of the wardrobe: a small safe, barely visible.

I tried Natalie’s birthday. The lock clicked open without resistance.

Inside was a flood of photographs—hundreds, maybe more. All of Natalie.

At first, they were clearly taken in secret: grainy shots from odd angles, like someone spying through a doorway or a window. But then the tone changed. They became selfies—intentional, sultry, pupils blown wide, lips parted. Her gaze full of knowing.

Disgust clawed up my throat, but I forced myself to keep looking.

Next to the photos was a leather-bound journal. I opened it. The first entry was dated the day Christoph and I met.

“Met a girl at the library today. She asked me if I liked Plato too. The way she said it—it almost felt like she was my sister-in-law. But I can't have those kinds of thoughts about her, can I? I need a distraction. A girlfriend. Gina will do.”

My hands began to shake, but I kept reading.

“Gina’s naïve. She won’t realize I’m just using her. Every time I see Natalie, I have to fight myself not to stare… not to touch.”

“Today was my brother’s funeral. I almost did something unforgivable in the chapel. Good thing Natalie was too grief-stricken to notice how disgusting I really am.”

“Gina keeps trying to get close. It’s pathetic. Why are women always so desperate? Natalie isn’t like that. She’s pure. She’s still keeping herself for my brother.”

Tears blurred the page. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, anything to keep from making a sound. Everything I thought was love—every soft word, every distant smile—it had all been a lie.

I was done being their cover story.