For our fifth anniversary, my boyfriend, Caelen Blackwell, flew me—and his mother—to Miami.

I thought he was going to propose.

Instead, he checked me into the cheapest room of a luxury villa and disappeared.

Two days later, I found out he was staying in the private suite with another woman—his mistress, Samatha, the same woman he had just proposed to.

When I confronted him, all he said was, “I’d never marry a crippled woman. Look at you, you’ll never be rich, powerful, or beautiful like her.”

So I just made one phone call to my father—the most feared mafia boss in Spain—and told him to cut off everything Caelen had been using to build his empire.

It’s not like I didn’t know how men like him worked—use a woman up, then toss her aside.

I just never thought he would be stupid enough to believe I was the kind of people who could be disrespected or discarded like this.

Kiva’s POV

I met my boyfriend, Caelen, after an accident left me disabled. He treated me like I was everything, and in return, I quietly helped him build his casino business from the ground up.

For our fifth anniversary, he flew me to Miami. I thought he was going to propose. Instead, I found out the trip wasn’t for me at all. It was for his mistress, Samantha.

He never planned to marry me. In his words, I was just a crippled, useless woman.

So I made one call—to my father, the most powerful mafia boss in Spain—and had him cut off every connection, every resource I’d ever handed to Caelen.

I was never the simple, fragile girl Caelen thought he could use. And I’m done making myself small so a man like him could feel big.

I was still shaking. I’d just watched my boyfriend drop to one knee—and propose to another woman.

My fingers clenched the wheels of my chair as I rolled through the stunned crowd on the deck, “What the hell are you doing, Caelen?”

For a moment, I saw it—panic in his eyes, just a flicker. Then it vanished, iced over by something worse, disgust.

“What are you doing here?” he hissed.

Gasps fluttered around me like flies.

“Who let a disabled person near the pool?”

“Someone call the staff.”

“Poor thing. Must’ve gotten confused.”

I ignored all of them. My focus was solely on Caelen, the man I thought I knew. I wheeled closer. “You owe me an explanation.”

The woman standing beside him—gorgeous, tall, polished—turned to me, her eyes narrowing, “Who is she?”

Caelen didn’t flinch. “She’s just my cousin,” he said smoothly. “The family’s been taking care of her.”

Then he stepped behind me and gripped the handles of my chair. “Wait for me, babe,” he called out to that woman as he pushed me away.

“I am not—” I tried, but Caelen’s hand already slapped over my mouth, silencing me.

He didn’t let go until we were back in my hotel room.

I shouted as I gasped for more air. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

His eyes flashed. “God, Kiva—can you not embarrass me for once? I was in the middle of something important.”

“Yeah. I saw.” My voice trembled, but I kept going. “You proposed to someone else. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?

“I was going to tell you nicely,” he said. “But since you had to make a scene—fine. Yes. I proposed to Samantha Holt. And if you don’t know who that is, her dad basically owns half of Manhattan.”

“Proposed…” The word tasted like blood.

So I hadn’t imagined it. Caelen really did it.

He looked at my face—and laughed. “Come on, Kiva. You didn’t actually think I’d marry you, did you?”

He stepped closer, voice low and cutting. “You’ve got the face, sure. But what else do you bring to the table? You’re broke. No connections. No power. Samantha’s family can actually help me.”

Caelen’s gaze dropped to my legs. “And your legs…” He let out a soft laugh. “Let’s just say, it was fun for a while. But this?”

He waved a hand in the air like I was an inconvenience. “It got old. I’m not spending the rest of my life pushing you around like a nursemaid.”

Heat surged under my skin, blood roaring in my ears.

The Caelen I knew—the man who once kissed every scar on my legs and said I was beautiful just like this—was gone. In his place stood a stranger—one who looked at me with nothing but disgust.

“Then why?” I asked quietly. “Why be with me at all? All those confessions, all those promises—were they nothing?”

His face flushed with irritation. “I pitied you, Kiva. That’s all. I thought it was love. I liked feeling like a good man, taking care of you.”

He scoffed. “But that doesn’t mean I want to marry you. Look at you—you can’t even walk down the aisle. Do you know what people would say about me? A crippled wife would ruin everything I’ve built.”

I couldn’t speak. It felt like my heart had been stripped bare, then cut apart piece by piece.

The room fell silent.

After a moment, Caelen knelt in front of me—the same way he had for Samantha. But instead of a ring, he offered me this, “If you still want me, we can keep things the way they are. You just won’t be my wife. Stay here, enjoy the villa, and don’t get in the way of me and Samantha. Fair enough?”

I didn’t answer.

“Kiva,” he continued, as if he were being generous, “everything I do is to make more money. And that money is for you. Don’t see Samantha as competition—see her as part of the solution. Together, we can take better care of you.”

Then he left.

My thoughts drifted back to a conversation I’d had with my father years ago.

“Kiva,” Papa had said gently, “are you sure Caelen is the right man? You are my most precious. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Papa, he’s different,” I’d said, smiling into the phone. “After the accident, I felt like I’d lost myself. But with Caelen, I found myself again. He never treated me like a woman in a wheelchair. So I wanted to do the same for him. I wanted to help him—with everything I had.”

And I did. For years, I’d posed as an anonymous investor. It was my money that built Caelen’s casino.

If I had known this was who Caelen truly was, I would’ve never offered to use my father’s name—his power, his money—to help him build his precious casino empire.

Samantha Holt might be from a powerful family. But my father’s influence dwarfed theirs—three times over.

I never told Caelen. Partly because I didn’t want him to feel small beside me. Mostly because I wanted to be loved for myself—not my name, not my family.

And yet, when he spoke to me just now, it felt like he’d never cared about me at all.

How could someone betray me—and frame it as kindness? As if being “taken care of” by him and his mistress were some sort of favor.

Shameless.

I took a slow breath, then reached for my phone.

“Papa,” I said calmly, “about that contract I asked you to give Caelen? Don’t bother. I’m done with him.”

He didn’t ask for details, only if I wanted to come home. He could send a helicopter immediately.

I smiled to myself. “What would be the fun in that?” I said. “I’ll stay until the weekend. I have a little surprise for Caelen before I leave.”

Kiva’s POV

After I hung up with Papa, I made one more call—to my investment manager. “I need you to pull my investment from Caelen’s casino,” I paused. “All of it.”

“Yes, Miss Crowe,” he replied without hesitation. “The full withdrawal will be finalized by Friday. By then, your funds—which currently make up over sixty percent of Caelen Casino’s active cash flow—will be fully returned to your account.”

Sixty percent. I smiled at the thought. Caelen’s casino ran mostly on cash. Strip that away, and there’d be no business left to run.

Once the paperwork was done, I called the hotel and had my room upgraded. If I was going to stay another four days, I wasn’t spending them in the cheap little suite Caelen had booked for me.

I moved into the villa’s most exclusive luxury suite—three times the price, ten times the comfort. The hotel even assigned me a personal maid and a private house manager. For the rest of the day, the manager wheeled me through the grounds like royalty.

“Miss Crowe,” the house manager said while he wheeled me at the beach, “may I suggest dining tonight at our finest restaurant? It overlooks both the sea and the beach. Very exclusive. Very private.”

I tilted my head. “Isn’t that the place that’s impossible to get into?”

I remembered Caelen arguing with someone over the phone back in New York—something about this exact restaurant. He’d been pushing hard for a reservation. At the time, I thought he was planning to propose to me. Why else would anyone drop triple the cost of a hotel room on one dinner?

“It is difficult to reserve,” the manager said, clearly pleased with himself. “But not for you, Miss Crowe. Or should I say… Miss Knox?”

He’d done his homework.

Most people knew me by my mother’s name, Crowe. Very few realized I was actually that Knox.

“Crowe is fine,” I said, slipping a hundred-dollar bill into his hand.

“Of course. As our most exclusive guest, Miss Crowe, we have one table held on standby—just for you.”

He wheeled me to the restaurant later, then excused himself, mentioning something about arranging a surprise for later.

The moment I entered, I saw the last people I wanted to see.

Caelen, Marnie—Caelen’s mother, and Samantha.

All three turned at once, staring like I was some creature that had wandered in by accident.

“Kiva?” Caelen stood abruptly, his voice rising. “What the hell are you doing here?”

I kept my tone light. “Dinner, of course.”

I ignored the tight looks from Marnie, the glare Samantha didn’t bother to hide, and made my way to the only open table.

I glanced over just in time to catch Caelen whispering something to Samantha. Her expression twisted.

“You said you took care of her,” she snapped, her voice rising. “Why is she even here? I thought this restaurant was exclusive.”

Then she turned her eyes to me—cold, judgmental. “If someone like her can get in, then what does that say about the rest of us?”

Caelen flushed, clearly scrambling to keep her calm. “Babe, don’t worry about her. Tonight’s about us, remember? We’re here to celebrate.”

Marnie, his mother, leaned in supportively. “That’s right, sweetheart. Don’t let her ruin the evening. Caelen, maybe you should talk to the staff—have her removed?”

Removed?

The ignorance of this family was almost comical. They were guests, same as me, and yet they carried themselves like they owned the place.

I didn’t say a word. I focused on my menu, made my order swiftly, and leaned back.

The calmer I remained, the more agitated Samantha seemed.

“Caelen!”

“I’m going,” he muttered, then got up and walked toward me.

He stopped at my side and bent down, voice low and tight. “How the hell did you get a pass into this place? You need to leave before you embarrass yourself.”

I pulled my arm free from his grip and met his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere,” I said evenly. “If you and your little fiancée can’t stand to see me here, you’re welcome to leave.”

“You—” Caelen clenched his jaw, lowering his voice. “Kiva, now isn’t the time to cause a scene. I told you—Samantha can help take care of you. If you upset her, no one wins.”

I said nothing.

Caelen turned to the waiter. “This woman isn’t with us. Please escort her back to her room. I reserved this restaurant tonight for my family.”

The waiter didn’t hesitate. “I’m sorry, Mr. Blackwell. Miss Crowe is one of our valued guests. She has every right to dine here.”

Realizing there was no way to remove me, Caelen shot me a warning look and returned to Samantha.

“Don’t worry about her, babe. Tonight’s about us.”

Samantha’s lips curled. She’d clearly heard what the waiter had just said. “Fine. It’s not like I’ve never done charity before. This will just be the first time I dine with someone I sponsor.”

The insult was deliberate and Samatha didn’t stop there.

“Look at how she eats,” she said when my food arrived. “Has she never been in a proper restaurant before? Caelen, where did your cousin come from—the countryside?”

I’d grown up around people like Samantha, people who mistook money for class. Anyone who knew my name—knew my family—would never dare speak to me like this.

Kiva’s POV

If Samatha knew whose daughter she was mocking now, she wouldn’t be smiling at all.

I ignored her and focused on my meal. But that seemed to irritate her more.

Samatha stood a minute later and approached me, wineglass in hand. “Kiva, right?”

I looked up but say a word.

Samatha leaned closer. “I know you’re not his cousin. You’re his ex. Still, I’m willing to give you some money. Because honestly? Look at you. I pity you.”

The word pity hit harder than I expected.

After the accident, everyone looked at me with it. I hated being pitied more than anything in the world.

“Is that so?” I asked quietly.

Samatha’s smile faltered—just for a second, then she recovered.

“Will ten thousand be enough?” Her gaze swept over me. “Or is that too much? Maybe a thousand is safer. You could buy bread every day. That should last you a while.”

I didn’t look away. “I thought people like you could afford more than that. What—did your father not give you enough allowance, so you had to marry yourself off to a man like Caelen?”

“You—” Samantha’s face twisted. “I don’t understand why a cripple like you thinks she can talk to me this way. I could crush you like an ant. Do you know that?”

Slowly, deliberately, she tipped her glass.

Wine spilled down over my hair, my shoulders—dripping, soaking.

“Like this,” Samatha smiled softly. “Bit by bit. Until your life is ruined.”

I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my own glass and flung it straight into her face.

Samantha screamed. “Bitch!”

“Samantha!”

Caelen and Marnie rushed over at once. Marnie shrieked and overturned an entire bucket of ice water over me. “How dare you treat my daughter-in-law like this, you crippled, useless woman!”

“Mom!” Caelen grabbed her arm, trying to stop her—but she was already lunging forward, eyes wild.

“I’ve endured you long enough!” she shouted. “Hasn’t my son taken care of you for years? Why can’t you just let him be happy? Why do you always ruin everything, you crippled freak?”

I barely recognized her.

This was the same woman who once wheeled me through the park in the sunshine. Who smiled at me like I was family. She reminded me of my own mother—that was why I trusted Caelen and helped him more than I should.

Now she was unrecognizable.

“How did you even get into this restaurant?” Marnie went on. “Did you use my son’s money? So you’re not just crippled and useless—you’re a gold digger too? Is this what he worked so hard for? So you could eat and sleep in places you don’t deserve?”

Marnie’s words tore at every raw place inside me. But I didn’t look at her. I kept my eyes on Caelen, searching his face for anything—guilt, shame, even the smallest trace of decency.

Say something, Caelen, I begged silently. Stop them. Don’t let them turn my pain into a joke. I deserve better than this.

But the only thing Caelen did was to hold Marnie back… and let her keep going.

I sat through ten straight minutes of Marnie’s shouting. She didn’t stop until the waiter returned.

“If this kind of place lets freaks like her in,” Samantha snapped, “then we won’t be dining here again.”

She shoved Caelen aside and stormed out. He and Marnie followed without a glance back.

Samantha had a stain. I was drenched, wine and ice water dripping down my blouse, pooling beneath my wheelchair.

“Oh my, Miss Crowe—what happened?” The manager had just stepped in, alarmed.

“Nothing.” I took the towel from the waiter and began drying my hair, my voice calm. “Wheel me back to my suite.”

“Miss Crowe…” The manager hesitated, stepping in to push me gently toward the doors. “If those guests did this to you, we can remove them from the property immediately. Just say the word.”

Remove them? How generous.

I looked straight ahead. “That’s alright,” I said softly. “I’ll let you know if I want that.”

…

For the next two days, I enjoyed everything the villa offered its most elite guests. I kept my distance from Caelen and his mother. I had no interest in crossing paths with them again.

When Saturday came, Caelen showed up at my suite.

“Samantha wants to leave early,” he said. “And you know I promised to take you back to New York. Do you want to come with us?”

I nodded. “Give me a few minutes to pack. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

Of course, I had no intention of leaving with Caelen.

The money transfer had gone through yesterday. And since luxury hotels didn’t charge until checkout—just froze the card on arrival—I figured it’d be fun to watch Caelen panic later, making a fool of himself when he realized he couldn’t even pay his room bill.

After Caelen left, I called my father and had his helicopter prepped. Once the show was over, I planned to leave straight from the villa.

When I reached the lobby, I didn’t even have to look around to know where Caelen was.

“Swipe it again!” he shouted. “There’s nothing wrong with my card—your machine is broken!”

I wheeled closer and saw him yelling at the front desk staff.

“Sir, please lower your voice,” the lobby manager said calmly. “I can try again, but our system is functioning normally. You may want to contact your bank.”

“You—”

“Enough,” Samantha snapped, yanking him back. “Haven’t you embarrassed us enough? Call the bank.”

Caelen’s face flushed. He pulled out his phone, hesitated, then dialed.