Before my new movie started filming, the director gave my leading actress role to a newcomer supported by none other than my secretly married husband of two years.

I was so angry that I went to the crew to question them, but on the way, I had a car accident and my left hand was slightly fractured.

I tried calling Asher Monroe, but he didn’t answer. Instead, I stumbled upon the new actress Nora Wallace’s post on her social media, just like another new drama had started:

Nora Wallace: [Thank you to Mr. Asher Monroe, our incredible investor, for giving me the chance to play the leading role in this big movie!]

Below her post, Asher had commented: [You deserve it.]

The attached photos showed them hugged openly and Asher even lowered his head to accept Nora's kiss on his cheek.

I wiped away my tears, pulled out my wedding photo with Asher and posted it to the movie’s production crews.

My caption was simple but scathing: [So this production crew is happy to see a mistress on the throne, huh?]

Later, Asher showed up, kneeled down and begged me to delete the posts about our wedding photos. I had my security guards throw him out.

***

When I was at the hospital for a follow-up appointment, Asher appeared in anger and as soon as he dragged me into the emergency stairwell, he started yelling at me:

"Lily Rose," his voice low but sharp. "Nora is just a college student I have been sponsoring. Are you seriously jealous over this? Hurry up and delete the posts!"

Bitterly, I stared at him and asked with a miserable smile, "She took my leading role and you don’t think you owe me an explanation?"

He faltered for a moment before his face hardened with impatience. "Your leading role? Look, that’s not important right now. What matters is that you delete those posts. It is blown up on social media and affecting Nora."

Asher’s tone turned icy, "Also, this role was Nora who first asked me for it. She came to me directly. There has to be a first come, first served in everything."

I could not believe my ears. My husband, who was supposed to support me, was defending her. My anger boiled over. I laughed angrily; my husband didn't care about my injuries at first but excused Nora.

"I fought for that role on my own. Who is she to say she can grab it? Shameless!" I spat.

"Enough, Lily!" he shouted, his disappointment cutting deeper than his words. "All I am asking is for you to delete the posts and apologize to Nora. You can't even do this little thing, right? Ah, I remember you used to be sensible and unreasonable."

My chest tightened, my eyes stinging. "I am asking for justice for myself. How is that unreasonable?"

Asher opened his mouth as if to retort, but his phone buzzed before he could say a word. My gaze flicked to the screen, where Nora’s name glared back at me.

"What's wrong?" Asher asked, his tone softening into something gentle and caring—a tone he hadn’t used with me in years.

That was the breaking point. I turned and walked past him, my expression blank.

"Wait, I will go with you to get your test results," he called after me, grabbing my wrist.

But then Nora’s saccharine voice came through the phone, loud enough for me to hear, "Asher, there are paparazzi outside my house and I am so scared. Can you come over?"

Asher dropped my hand as it burned him. "Don’t worry, I am coming," he reassured her before rushing out.

I stood frozen, staring after him as tears blurred my vision. For the first time, I didn’t chase him. I didn’t beg him to stay. Instead, I bit back my pain and went to my appointment alone.

Some people aren’t worth holding onto.

***

It takes a hundred days to recover from an injury and after the doctor was aware I was an actress, he gave me a strict warning. Urged me to rest appropriately and avoid stress. Staying in a good mood would help me heal faster.

But Asher seemed determined to test my limits. The next day, he showed up at my apartment, dragging me toward his car by the arm.

"Earlier today, I logged into your Instagram account and deleted those photos. I also issued an apology on your behalf," he said coldly.

He didn’t stop. Instead, “But Nora said she wants you to apologize in person before this matter is considered over. So, hurry up, go with me to the set and apologize to her.”

I yanked my arm free, staring at him in disbelief. "How dare you make decisions for me without my consent?"

Climbing onto Instagram, I saw the statement apologizing on the top post.

[I deeply apologize for stirring up drama to gain attention. I digitally altered the wedding photos with investor Asher Monroe to embarrass Nora. I also want to apologize to Nora Wallace. I never intended to take her leading role. I hope we can work together harmoniously in the future.]

My hands trembled as I read it.

The apology post came with a shocking attachment—a fake depression report.

Asher had gone so far to protect Nora that he painted me as a deranged lunatic.

Terrified, I opened the comments. Each one stabbed deeper than the last:

[Terrible actress, 1st place for being a mistress. The entertainment industry is in a mess because of people like you.]

"Everyone can see how good Asher Monroe is to Nora. The whole network sees it in the eyes. And here’s Lily Rose, butting in and playing the victim. How shameless."

Panic overtook me as I tried to type explanations, but the more I replied, the crueler and more vicious the comments became.

Suddenly, Asher snatched my phone out of my hands. He sighed in exasperation.

"Stop reading this. Just apologize to Nora and I will release a statement clearing your name."

I reached for my phone, but he called for someone to hold me down.

They pressed down on my injured left hand and I screamed in pain.

"Ahh!"

Asher finally seemed shaken. He ordered them to let go and scolded them,

"Why were you so rough with her?"

He crouched beside me, gently helping me up. "If you were not so stubborn, you would not have gotten hurt."

Clutching my throbbing hand, I bit through the pain and glared at him. "And whose fault do you think these injuries are?"

He avoided my gaze, frowning. "I told you, if you just apologize, I would not let the online harassment worsen."

I shook off his hand and forced myself to stand. With a bitter smile, I said, "Fine. I will apologize—but only if you sign the divorce papers."

His face froze for a second before he chuckled coldly.

"Lily, do you really think anyone else will give you opportunities to act? Who would cast you as the lead in a major movie without me?"

He thought his usual manipulation would still work, that I’d obediently fall in line like I always did.

"I know you are upset, but I told you I would never hurt you."

But this time, I was done.

I thought back to the day we got married. He had suggested keeping our marriage a secret to protect my career and I had believed it was because he truly loved me.

I had even planned to have his child, but he shut me down, saying he didn’t want kids. He claimed he didn’t want me to be burdened by motherhood.

His thoughtfulness had so touched me. For two years, I put him first. Outside, I avoided anything that could cause suspicion; inside, I played the perfect housewife.

Then came our second wedding anniversary. I was not feeling well and could not reach Asher all day. When I went home to rest, I saw Nora sitting in his arms outside the bedroom door, embracing him in a passionate kiss.

He also whispered that he asked Nora to give him a child.

That was the moment it all clicked. It was not that he didn’t want children—he just didn’t want one with me.

His voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Come on, don’t be mad. Look, I got you this necklace."

The cold touch of pearls against my skin brought me back to reality. Asher fastened a pearl necklace around my neck, looking at me with an almost childlike hope as if expecting me to thank him.

I pulled it off without hesitation and spilled the beads all over the floor in front of him.

"A freebie from Nora's bag purchase? And you thought I’d wear this?"

His face darkened instantly. "Lily, I am talking to you nicely. Can we not do this? I picked this out for you—it has nothing to do with Nora. Don't talk nonsense."

I let out a cold laugh and showed him the picture that Nora had flaunted in her social media story:

[I love this bag, but what about the cheap freebie necklace it came with? Not my style. I told him to give it to someone else.]

Asher froze, at a loss for words. After a moment, he forced out a dry laugh and tried to hug me.

"You said you wanted to have a child with me, right? Let’s make that happen now."

His lips brushed my neck as he pulled me closer, but I shoved him off and slapped him hard across the face as I said, "Don’t touch me!"

He covered his cheek, his expression twisting with anger. "Lily, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"I must have been out of my mind to marry you, let alone agree to stay in a hidden marriage for two years!" I shouted back, refusing to back down. "You have already destroyed me—what more do you want?"

My voice cracked as I stared at him, my anger fueled by years of suppression.

"Do you want to see me on my knees, begging for mercy? Is that what will satisfy you?"

I had never raised my voice like this in our two years of marriage. Asher was visibly a bit stunned.

We had fought before, but it was always me who apologized first, placating him while he played the part of a calm, rational man. In truth, he twisted every argument to make me feel like I was the one at fault.

I used to believe him, thinking I must have been wrong. But now I saw the truth—he never loved me. His so-called "love" was just a thinly veiled need for control.

Even if he once felt like a beacon of light, pulling me from the depths of despair, that didn’t erase the harm he had inflicted on me now.

I took a deep breath and stared him in the eyes.

"If we get divorced, you’ll finally be free to flaunt your relationship with Nora without restraint."

His brows furrowed, his patience wearing thin.

"Lily Rose," he sneered, "I have seen you grovel before. Why are you yelling now?"

I looked at him in shock, unable to believe that these words came from Asher.

When he saw me freeze, he didn’t stop there. He leaned closer, his voice laced with mockery.

"Remember when your parents were sent to prison? I saw you on your knees, begging for help. Even the media caught it on camera..."

"Stop it!" I screamed, shoving him away with all the strength I had left. Tears streamed down my face as I yelled hoarsely, "Get out! Just get out!"

Asher looked startled momentarily, unsure how to react to my outburst. But then anger flared in his eyes. He kicked at the pearls scattered on the floor and muttered through gritted teeth, "Emily Wilson, let’s see how long you can keep up this stubborn act."

And then, he slammed the door behind him, leaving me rooted to the spot.

Emily Wilson—that was my real name. He hadn’t called me that in years. It was not just a name; it was a warning. He was threatening to expose my past if I didn’t comply with him.

I thought of the promises he used to make.

‘Don’t worry, Emily,’ he had once said while holding me close. ‘I will protect you. I would not let anyone hurt you.’

Now, all he did was reopen old wounds, salting them for good measure.

***

That evening, Nora posted a photo on her social media—a romantic candlelit dinner.

[It feels so nice to have someone peel shrimp for me,] she wrote.

The finger that peeled the shrimp in the photo was still wearing our wedding ring.

Asher liked the post and left a comment: [If you like it, I will peel them for you forever.]

I stared at the screen, the bitterness in my chest threatening to spill over.

I loved shrimp, too. But every time I asked Asher to peel them for me, he’d brush me off, saying he was not good at it and would ask the housekeeper to do it instead.

Now, he peeled shrimp for Nora with his own hands—so many of them and so effortlessly.

If it had been the old me, I would have called him immediately, demanding an explanation. But now, even as the ache in my heart grew unbearable, I will not ask.

***

I thought back to the past, to when my parents were imprisoned. The whole internet had turned against me, dragging my name through the mud.

Back then, it was Asher who stood up for me.

At that time, he insisted that the Rose family help the Wilson Family, which has a very good relationship with him, to accept me as an adopted daughter.

As a result, he was locked up and beaten a few times by his father and when he was lying in the hospital for treatment, he touched my head and held my hand, smiling weakly, ‘It is okay now Emily. No one will bully you anymore’, he said.

Because of him, the Rose family took me in as their foster daughter. I changed my name to Lily Rose and became Asher’s fiancée. He even helped me step into the entertainment industry, where I finally began living out my dreams.

For a time, He had pulled me out of hell and had given me genuine happiness.

But after his betrayal, I swallowed my pride, enduring it silently, hoping in vain that the man I loved would come back to me.

Now, I no longer wanted anything from him—his love, his promises, or the life we built together. I just want to make a clean break with him completely, move out of here and discard the things he gave me.

When Asher saw that I didn't show up at the theater set the next day, he called to ask, "Why didn’t you come to the set today? Still sulking?"

I kept my voice calm. "I am not sulking. I have thought it through."

He chuckled softly, his tone carrying a smug edge.

"Lily, if you had been this obedient from the start, we would not have all these problems."