Right after returning from a business trip, Cecelia Moore held her ultrasound report as she hurried to the private suite at the club. She was eager to surprise her husband, Francis Rivera.

Just as she was about to open the door, she caught a few words drifting through the crack that stopped her cold.

"…So, Fran, did you really marry Cecelia Moore just to protect Melody Green?"

In that instant, every drop of blood in Cecelia's body seemed to freeze—she couldn't move.

Francis Rivera's voice was colder and more certain than Cecelia Moore had ever heard before.

"Yeah. During the car crash, Cecelia's father shielded her but died instantly, while she suffered serious injuries.

"It was fortunate that I altered the evidence and lied in court, thereby protecting Melody. Otherwise, her future as a celebrity would have been ruined by the drunk driving charge.

"The Moore family is down to just Cecelia. She's fully devoted to me. If I make her my wife and keep her under my nose, I can guarantee that she won't have her eyes on Melody anymore."

Someone hailed him and said, "Smart! That's really smart! But aren't you worried Cecelia might find out?"

Francis let out a low chuckle. "Her? She just needs to play her part as my wife and enjoy the easy life I give her. As for Melody… I can give her everything except the title of Mrs. Rivera. So, keep your mouth shut. Don't go running your mouth about this in front of Cecelia."

Each word felt like barbed wire, digging into Cecelia's body and ripping her apart. She almost blacked out and barely stayed upright by leaning against the icy wall.

The ultrasound report she held, which was once filled with happiness, was now crumpled in her trembling hands.

At her father's funeral, Francis had hugged her tight and said in a hoarse voice, "Celia, from now on, I'm your family."

When he proposed to her on one knee, fireworks lighting up the sky, he looked at her like she was his whole world. "Celia, I promise I'll make the driver who hurt your father pay. I'll win the case."

Late at night, he came home cold and tired, but always pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on her head. "Celia, I missed you. Only when I'm holding you do I feel alive again."

All that tenderness. All those promises. The vow that she was the only one in his life…

The place she thought was her sanctuary was actually the bastion that sheltered the murderer.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated in her pocket.

The screen flashed with the word "hubby". It was like a thorn in her eye.

Cecelia took a deep breath and rushed to the soundproof stairwell, her fingers shaking as she answered.

"Celia? Where are you? I just finished a call about an international acquisition. I'm swamped and won't be home for a few days as I need to prepare for the case. Remember to eat on time. Don't wait for me, okay?" Francis's voice was gentle and full of concern, just like always.

However, in the background, she could faintly hear the clinking of glasses.

Cecelia bit down hard on her lip. The taste of blood filled her mouth, but she forced herself to sound natural. "Okay… Sure."

"Good girl." Francis sounded a bit more relaxed.

"When this case is over, I'll take you to the auction. They finally have some news about that glazed pottery from the Renaissance era you've talked so often about. And don't forget, the nights are quite cool now. Your hands and feet get cold quickly, too. Remember to use the electric blanket. Don't catch a chill."

He was thoughtful, as always.

Then, she heard someone teasing in the background, "Hey, Fran! Checking in with your wife again? That's a model husband right there…"

Francis's voice turned stern. "Shut it. Celia's shy, so don't talk nonsense in front of her."

But when he spoke to her again, he slipped right back into his gentle tone. "Celia, go to bed early. Love you."

The line went dead, leaving only the empty sound of the dial tone.

Cecelia slid down the cold wall with her back against it, her body losing strength until she sat on the floor. The floor was spotless, but it felt icy to the bone.

The faint laughter from the private room stung her heart. All those sweet recollections turned into the cruelest of mockery, tearing apart every cherished memory and all her feelings.

She realized she had been living a carefully crafted deception. Francis used their marriage and her love just to protect the woman he truly cared about.

Cecelia stumbled her way home, empty and numb. She simply let the grief and sense of betrayal tear her apart.

-

A few days passed.

Cecelia's phone chimed, and she almost grabbed and unlocked it on instinct.

It was Melody's latest post on her social media, published fifteen minutes ago. No words, just a live photo.

In the warm light of a fancy restaurant, there's a man's hand, pouring red wine for her; a shiny ring is visible on his finger.

In the comments, Melody had added a clarification.

[I landed safely! Nothing feels better than being picked up by people you know! Thank you for waiting with me for three hours!]

So, the important "international acquisition case" that kept him from coming home was really just an excuse to pick up Melody at the airport.

His promise to "spend time with her after work was done" was just a way to soothe Cecelia so he could be there for the woman he actually wanted!

Cecelia's heart became completely cold.

Even her own self-denial was snuffed out by this image.

She wanted to leave!

The thought of leaving had never been so clear or so overwhelming in her mind.

She opened the appointment app on her phone. The earliest date to get a new passport was in seven working days.

There was still time.

Next, she went to the private women's hospital app and stared at the option for "termination of pregnancy."

"Confirm appointment." A cold green notification appeared on the screen.

Cecelia lifted her hand and placed it gently on her belly.

This had been her hope for the future, but now, with all of Francis's lies, all her hopes were in ruins. 'I'm sorry, baby. I can't bring you into a world of lies and manipulation. I can't let you have…a father like this.'

And as for the real culprit behind her father's death, Cecelia would never let her get away.

At the hospital, the doctor looked at her report and sighed. "Mrs. Rivera, the car accident caused severe damage to your pelvis. Being able to get pregnant on its own is already quite a miracle. If you go through with this surgery, well… You may never be able to have a child again."

May never be able to have a child again.

Those words hit Cecelia like a hammer, shattering what little strength she had left.

A sense of hesitation and tenderness as a mother unexpectedly emerged.

Her child… The only child she might ever have… Was she really going to end this miracle herself?

Cecelia left the hospital through the main door in a stupor.

The afternoon sunlight was harsh, and she lowered her head to avoid it. By chance, she caught sight of a giant LED screen on the street corner showing an entertainment news update.

The screen was crystal clear as the camera focused on a charity gala.

Francis stood tall and straight in a perfectly tailored dark suit. He was listening to Melody as he turned to her, who smiled beside him as she talked. She wore a stunning red dress, her makeup impeccable, gazing up at him with trust and admiration.

Standing together, they were the perfect match.

The news ticker below scrolled by like poison.

"Up-and-coming legal superstar Francis Rivera attends charity night with top celebrity Melody Green!"

"Childhood sweethearts with a strong tie! A perfect couple admired by all!"

The netizens commented, "This is what a real power couple looks like! I'm obsessed!"

As for her, the so-called "Mrs. Rivera" didn't exist to anyone in the world Francis constructed.

Cecelia's stomach wriggled. She held onto a cold streetlamp, wanting to throw up—but all that came out was some stomach acid. It felt like someone had forced a huge, icy stone into her chest, and it was so heavy she could barely breathe.

Of course.

She was nothing but a shield for her father's killer.

Nothing but a pathetic joke.

When Cecelia finally dragged herself home, it was already dark.

To her surprise, the lights were on in the living room. Francis was actually home.

When he saw her come home, he set down his tablet and got up to greet her. He reached out naturally to take her bag. "You're back. Why do you look so pale?"

She dodged his hand, her voice dry. "Where's Melody?"

Francis froze for a second, then explained, "Oh, Melody just got back from overseas. She said she didn't have anyone to go with her to a dinner event, and I happened to be free, so I went to give her a hand.

"Her new apartment still smells from the renovations, and staying in a hotel isn't convenient, so I let her stay at the villa in the countryside for a few days. You know, it's tough for her to be on her own, especially since she was a public figure…"

He trailed off, watching Cecelia for her reaction before adding, "Don't worry, it's only for a few days. She'll be gone soon."

"She's staying at the villa? In the countryside?" Cecelia's head snapped up, her voice trembling.

"That's our marital home, Francis! We picked it out together, decorated it together! You didn't even ask me before letting her stay there?"

Every piece of furniture and every detail carried her hopes and dreams for their marriage and future.

However, they bought a small apartment downtown for the sake of Francis's work. Cecelia had never complained, always willing to move back and forth for him.

And now, he had let another woman walk right in and take over the only place that still felt like home to her, just like that.

A flash of annoyance flashed in his eyes, quickly replaced by deep disappointment.

"Melody's just staying in the guest room for a few days. We grew up together, and her family helped me a lot back then. Now that she needs help, of course I'm going to give her a hand. You don't have to be so jealous."

"Jealous?" Tears welled up in Cecilia's eyes, but she forced them back through sheer will. That sounded like the worst joke she had ever heard.

The cold that filled her heart spread to every part of her body, leaving even her fingertips numb.

She looked at this man who was once so familiar yet now so distant, and saw nothing but disappointment in his eyes.

It was as if she were the unreasonable and narrow-minded one. Every bit of anger, pain, and resentment was suspended in that look of his.

Cecelia didn't even have the strength to argue.

In his mind, even this little bit of emotion was a mistake.

The night grew late.

After his shower, Francis got into bed, thinking Cecelia was still angry at him. He pulled her into his arms from behind, trying to tease her in the sweet voice he always used. Suddenly, his phone lit up in the dark.

It was a call from Melody.

He quickly got out of bed.

Cecelia could vaguely hear his deliberately lowered but still gentle voice.

"Melody? What's wrong? The villa's too big and you're scared? Alright, don't worry, I'll come over right now…"

His footsteps faded, and the master bedroom door was quietly pushed open. He came over, leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Cecelia's forehead, his breath warm.

"Something came up at work. I must go handle it. Don't wait up. Get some sleep."

He softly closed the door, and his footsteps faded into the distance.

In the darkness, Cecelia lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling. That kiss on her forehead was still burning.

Her feelings as a wife, and even her existence, meant nothing before Melody.

Cecelia suddenly got up, then pulled out her suitcase. She didn't touch any of the expensive clothes or jewelry Francis had given her. She just packed her own things one by one, silently and carefully.

After she had finished, she put the suitcase in the closet. She then sat back down on the cold bed and waited for the sky outside the window to slowly turn bright.

The first light of morning crept through the heavy curtains. Francis hadn't come home all night.

Cecelia walked barefoot across the cold floor to the corner of the study, walking to a place she rarely entered, and stopped in front of Francis's safe.

Without thinking, she tried the date of Melody's birthday as the password.

Click.

The lock opened.

Her heart clenched, like she was torturing herself on purpose.