Three years ago, my mother went under the knife in what should’ve been a routine operation.

Except the surgeon assigned to her—Valeria—had shown up drunk after a party.

Worse, she’d been laughing about it. She’d even made some sick little wager with the other doctors, bragging that she could still save a patient while alcohol was still in her system.

All it took was one wrong incision. One careless slip of her hand.

And instead of my mother waking up healed… she never woke up at all.

She was left in a coma.

My brother Inigo, a lawyer, refused to let it go. He filed a case against the hospital and against Valeria. He fought like hell, demanding justice for our mother and for our family.

But the hospital had money. Connections. Power.

And so did Valeria.

Somehow, everything flipped.

Evidence vanished. Witnesses changed their stories. Documents were altered. Overnight, Inigo was no longer the victim’s son fighting for his mother—he was painted as a liar. A troublemaker. A man making “false accusations.”

They charged him with defamation.

They dragged his name through every courtroom and every headline, calling him unstable and reckless.

And in the end, Inigo was the one who got locked up.

He lost his license.

He lost his freedom.

While the real criminal walked away untouched.

I couldn’t accept it.

So I did the only thing I had left—I went public. I spoke to the media. I told them what Valeria had done. I begged people to listen, to care, to see what kind of monster she really was.

But instead of support, I got ridicule.

They called me bitter. They called me dramatic. They said I was just trying to destroy the reputation of a “brilliant doctor.”

And as the story spread, the damage didn’t stop at my family’s name.

It bled into our business.

Investors started backing out.

One after another, they pulled their support until the company my father had built from nothing—the empire he’d poured his blood into—started collapsing right in front of my eyes.

I was drowning.

And that was when Darian appeared.

He was rich, influential, untouchable… and worst of all, he was someone I’d secretly admired long before my life fell apart.

When he acquired our company, he didn’t just take over the business.

He offered me a deal.

Marriage.

No wedding. No romance. No vows. Just paperwork. Just his surname stamped onto mine.

He promised me security.

He promised my mother’s treatment would continue.

He promised no one would dare touch me again.

But in return, he wanted my obedience. My submission. My silence.

And I said yes.

Because even if it was a cage, it was still better than standing there and watching my family get crushed piece by piece.

I convinced myself I could endure it.

I told myself I could be a proper wife, even if love was never part of the arrangement.

And then today came.

Our third anniversary.

I stared down at the pregnancy test in my hands, my lips trembling into a small smile.

Positive.

Two faint pink lines, but they felt like the first real hope I’d held in years. I brushed my fingers over them, heart pounding.

Darian had always wanted an heir. Someone to carry his name.

Maybe this would finally change something.

Maybe this would make him look at me differently.

I imagined his expression softening. Imagined him reaching for me, holding me like I mattered—like I wasn’t just a bargain he’d signed.

I was in the middle of planning the surprise when something caught my eye.

A sparkle on his desk.

A necklace.

Not just any necklace, but the exact Audrey Hepburn-inspired gold set I’d been quietly dreaming about for months.

My breath hitched.

He remembered.

For the first time, I let myself believe he’d actually bought something for me. Something thoughtful. Something that meant he’d been paying attention.

My hands shook as I fastened it around my neck.

I stared into the mirror.

And for the first time in years, I didn’t look like a woman surviving.

I looked… pretty.

I looked wanted.

Then the door opened.

Darian walked in.

His gaze snapped straight to the necklace.

And his face turned cold.

“What the hell are you doing wearing that?”

I blinked, startled. “I… I thought it was mine. For our anniversary—”

He crossed the room in two long strides and yanked it off so violently the chain scraped my skin.

“This is not for you,” he said, voice dripping with contempt. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Why would I spend something this pricey on you?”

My chest tightened as if his words had physically stabbed me.

“But I thought—”

“You thought wrong.” His tone was sharp, cruel. “Do you have any idea how much I’m paying to keep your mother alive? That alone is more generosity than you deserve.”

Then he turned away like the conversation bored him.

“As for the anniversary—forget it. Cancel it. I’m busy.” His eyes flicked over me with disgust. “Stay here. Take care of your mother. Scrub the floors. That’s all you’re useful for.”

My eyes burned, but I forced the tears back down.

“Darian…” my voice cracked. “I wanted to tell you something. I have a surprise—”

“I don’t care.”

His words were pure ice.

He grabbed his coat, already halfway out the door.

“I’m not coming home tonight. Don’t wait up.” He paused just long enough to throw one last warning over his shoulder. “And don’t touch anything that isn’t yours again.”

Then he left.

The door slammed so hard the walls seemed to shake.

I dropped to my knees.

My whole body trembled as sobs tore out of me, ugly and uncontrollable.

But the next day, I still went.

I went to the riverside restaurant anyway.

It had always been a small dream of mine—to eat dinner by the Golden Bridge, to watch the lights shimmer on the water like stars scattered across the river.

Even if he didn’t show.

Even if I sat there alone.

I just wanted to feel like a human being again.

When I arrived, the hostess greeted me with a soft smile.

“Right this way, ma’am. Your VIP room is ready.”

The room was stunning, with a private balcony overlooking the river.

The view stole my breath.

I ate quietly, forcing myself to believe this could still count as something. That I could still find peace, even if it was only in small moments like this.

Then I heard a laugh.

A laugh I knew too well.

From the balcony next to mine.

My entire body froze.

Darian.

My pulse thundered in my ears as I moved closer, careful, slow, praying I wouldn’t be noticed.

And then I heard another voice.

Soft. Feminine.

Unmistakable.

Valeria.

The drunk surgeon who ruined my family… and Darian’s childhood friend.

His lover.

The same woman who’d disappeared three years ago, the same woman Darian had once sworn he would make pay.

My hand flew to my mouth as if I could physically stop myself from making a sound.

“Are you sure this is fine?” Valeria asked, her voice gentle. “It is your anniversary, isn’t it?”

Darian chuckled like she’d said something adorable.

“It’s not important.” His tone was lazy, dismissive. “I’ll buy her some cheap trinket later. She’ll take it and smile like she always does.”

Then his voice lowered, smoother.

“Now that you’re back, I’m divorcing her. She was just convenient. I needed their company.” He laughed softly. “You know I only married her so she wouldn’t have the nerve to go after you again.”

Valeria hesitated. “I… I do feel bad about her mother.”

“Oh, please.” Darian sounded amused. “Even if you hadn’t been drunk that day, her mother would’ve ended up like that eventually. She was weak. They’re all weak.”

I felt sick.

Then he continued, calm as if he was discussing business over coffee.

“Once I move the billion-dollar account using her designs—since investors still trust her father’s name—I’ll take everything.” His voice turned colder. “After that, I’ll pull the plug on her mother.”

My blood ran cold.

“And her brother?” he added with a shrug in his voice. “Let him rot in prison. When they’re finally gone… we can be together for real.”

My knees buckled.

My vision swam.

I clamped my hand harder over my mouth, biting down on my own sob so I wouldn’t scream.

No.

No, no, no.

This couldn’t be happening.

But it was.

I stumbled out of the restaurant, barely able to see through the tears. My body shook so violently I could hardly breathe.

I didn’t think.

I didn’t plan.

I only knew one thing.

Run.

Just run.

I didn’t even notice the headlights until it was too late.

A sharp screech.

A burst of blinding light.

Pain tearing through me.

And then—

Nothing.

Only darkness.

When I finally opened my eyes, the first thing that hit me was the ceiling.

It wasn’t mine.

The white was too clean, too sterile—bright enough to sting. For a second, I just stared, disoriented, and then my heart slammed against my ribs as I jolted upright.

Pain tore through my body like lightning.

I hissed, clutching at the sheets as panic rose so fast it nearly choked me.

Where… where was I?

“Ma’am, please.” A gentle voice cut through the silence.

I snapped my head to the side and saw a maid standing near the corner of the room, hands folded neatly in front of her.

“You need to lie back down,” she said softly. “You’re still injured.”

My fingers tightened around the blanket. “Where am I?” My voice came out hoarse, cracking with fear. “Where did you bring me? And—my baby.” My breath hitched. “Where’s my baby? Tell me!”

The maid’s lips parted like she wanted to answer—

But a low laugh rolled in from the doorway, slow and mocking.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Vivienne. Relax. You’re not in danger anymore.”

My blood went ice-cold.

That voice.

I turned, slowly, like my body already knew what my mind didn’t want to accept.

And then I saw him.

“Inigo…” I breathed.

He was leaning against the doorframe like he owned the air in the room—arms crossed, eyes full of amusement, that smug, arrogant smirk on his face like it had been carved there since high school.

Of all people.

It had to be him.

My rival. My enemy. The one person who’d made my life a competition in every possible way—academics, sports, reputation, even our families’ expectations.

Our fathers had once been close business partners. There had even been talk of engagement years ago.

I’d refused.

I’d hated him too much to even consider it.

And now here he was, standing over me like fate was playing the cruelest joke.

I swallowed hard. “Why am I here?” I demanded, voice shaking. “What am I doing in your house?”

Inigo pushed off the frame and strolled in, unhurried, eyes gleaming. “Because you crashed into my car,” he said easily. “And I saved you.”

“My… my baby.” My hands flew to my stomach.

He answered without missing a beat. “Safe. The baby’s fine.”

Then his gaze sharpened slightly. “But you? You’re a mess.” His mouth curved. “After what you overheard tonight… your dear husband being a traitor and all.”

I glared at him, throat tightening. “That has nothing to do with you.”

Inigo chuckled, dark and entertained. “Oh, it has everything to do with me.” He tilted his head. “Here’s a thought—divorce him. Then marry me. You should’ve done it in the first place.”

The nerve.

Heat rushed through my veins. “No!” I snapped. “Absolutely not. I’d rather die. I hate you.”

His grin widened, completely unbothered. “Still got that temper.” His eyes swept over me with lazy approval. “That’s what I like about you.”

Then he snapped his fingers.

The maid immediately turned on the television mounted on the wall.

My breath stopped.

On the screen, Valeria stood smiling for the cameras, her hand linked with Darian’s like they were some perfect couple in a romance drama.

The headline beneath them made my stomach twist:

Love is sweeter the second time around.

So this was the truth.

This was why I’d been hidden away like some shameful secret. Why there were no anniversaries worth celebrating, no public appearances, no pride in calling me his wife.

He hadn’t wanted a wife.

He’d wanted a placeholder.

Someone to keep things steady while he waited for her to come back.

The fight drained out of me all at once, leaving nothing but exhaustion and something sharp and steady underneath it.

I let out a shaky breath. “Fine,” I said quietly. “I’ll marry you.”

The words felt poisonous in my mouth, but my chest burned with determination.

Inigo’s brow lifted.

“But first,” I continued, forcing myself to stay calm, “I need to go home. I need to settle things properly.” I met his eyes. “Come back for me in four days.”

He studied me for a long moment, like he was trying to figure out if I was bluffing.

Then his smirk returned. “Done.”

A few hours later, a limousine drove me back.

The windows were tinted, hiding my face from the outside world, but my heart was pounding so hard I could barely breathe.

As the gates of the Smith mansion came into view, I gripped the seat until my knuckles turned white.

The car rolled to a stop.

The door opened.

And there he was.

Darian.

He was already storming down the front steps, fury written all over him.

“Where the hell have you been?” he barked. “I’ve been calling you nonstop!” His gaze snapped to the limo. “And whose car is that?”

My lips curled into a cold, humorless smile. “Nobody’s.”

“Nobody’s?” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me you’re cheating on me.”

A bitter laugh ripped out of me. “Cheating?” I repeated. “Me?”

His jaw tightened. “What is that supposed to mean? You’re acting like this because our anniversary didn’t happen? I told you I was busy.”

“Busy doing what?” I shot back, voice trembling with rage.

Before he could answer, a soft sob floated through the doorway.

We both turned.

Valeria stood there with tears running down her cheeks, holding a bouquet of flowers like she was the victim in this story.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice shaking. “Are you two arguing because of me? I shouldn’t have come back, but… I just wanted to confess. I wanted to apologize. About your mother.” She swallowed. “I know the timing is wrong.”

My eyes dropped to her neck.

And my entire body went still.

The necklace.

The Audrey Hepburn gold set.

The one I’d put on. The one Darian had ripped from me like I was dirt.

It was glowing against Valeria’s skin.

Something inside me snapped.

“You ruined my mother!” I spat, stepping forward. “And you think saying sorry makes it okay?”

Valeria reached for me. “Vivienne, please—”

I slapped her hand away so hard the sound echoed.

She stumbled back, almost falling.

“Vivienne!” Darian thundered, rushing to catch her. His face twisted in fury. “Have you lost your mind? She came here to apologize, and you dare lay hands on her?”

Tears blurred my vision, but my voice didn’t break.

“I don’t want her apology!” I cried. “She’s disgusting! She’s evil!” I turned on him, shaking. “You promised me. You swore you would make her pay. So why is she here? Why are you protecting her?”

“Enough!” Darian snapped.

His eyes were sharp, cold, full of contempt.

“I’ve known her longer than I’ve known you,” he said. “She doesn’t deserve your hatred.” He stepped closer, voice turning hard. “Apologize.”

I shook my head. “No.”

His expression darkened, and his voice dropped into something quiet and deadly.

“If you refuse,” he said, “I’ll pull your mother’s life support.”

My heart stopped.

My whole body went numb.

“You…” My voice came out broken. “You’d kill my mother… for her?”

Darian didn’t even hesitate.

“Yes.”

One single word.

Cold. Absolute. Merciless.

Then he leaned closer, eyes gleaming with cruelty. “So kneel. Right now. And kiss her shoes.”

Valeria gasped, eyes wide. “Darian, no—there’s no need—”

But Darian shot her a look that shut her up instantly.

Tears spilled down my face as my knees gave out.

Humiliation burned through me like acid, searing every nerve.

Slowly—so slowly it felt like dying—I lowered myself to the marble floor.

Then I bent forward and pressed my lips to Valeria’s shoes.

Darian looked satisfied.

Like he’d just won something.

He wrapped an arm around Valeria and led her away, leaving me behind like discarded trash.

Alone.

I pressed my fists against my chest and sobbed until my whole body shook.

But even while I broke apart, something inside me hardened.

Four days.

Just four more days.

And I’d be gone.

No one would ever get to hurt me again.

I wiped my face, forced myself to stand, and staggered back to my room.

My hands were trembling when I grabbed my phone.

But when the call finally connected, my voice was steady.

“Hello?”

“This is Vivienne Smith,” I whispered. “I want to file for divorce. Prepare the papers.”

“I want a divorce from Darian Smith,” I whispered into the phone, gripping it so hard my fingers went numb. “Draw up the papers.”

On the other end, my lawyer let out a long breath, the kind that carried warning and pity all at once. “Vivienne… you know you can’t. What about your mother? She’s still receiving treatment in the hospital Darian pays for. If you leave him now, she’ll be cut off. She won’t survive.”

My throat burned, but I forced my voice to stay steady. “Then I’ll move her. Immediately. I’ll spend every last cent I have left if that’s what it takes.”

“Vivienne—”

“No.” I cut him off, my tone sharper than I’d ever used with anyone. “Nobody is stopping me. File the divorce.”

I swallowed, then added, each word deliberate. “But don’t send it yet. Deliver the papers on the day the investors sign. The same day as the design proposal. That’s when I want Darian to see it.”

A pause.

Then my lawyer spoke again, reluctant but resigned. “Understood.”

I hung up before my courage could crack.

My legs felt unsteady as I stood and walked to the closet. Then I started moving—fast, mechanical, like if I slowed down even for a second, I’d fall apart.

I tore dresses off hangers and shoved them into a suitcase. I grabbed whatever I could reach—shirts, coats, shoes—and threw them in without folding.

Then I went for the jewelry.

The pieces Darian had bought over the years, just enough to make me believe he cared, just enough to keep me obedient.

I swept them into the trash.

Every last one.

I wanted nothing from him. Nothing that would keep me chained.

I was about to rip the framed photo from the shelf—the picture from our so-called “wedding day,” which had really just been us signing papers in his office, no ceremony, no vows, no love—

When the door flew open.

Darian walked in like he owned the air in the room, not bothering to knock.

“Cook,” he said flatly. “We’ve got guests coming tonight.”

I turned to face him, my jaw clenched. “I don’t feel well.”

His eyes narrowed. “Stop with the excuses. You’re doing it.”

Before I could say another word, he placed a firm hand on my shoulder and shoved me toward the hallway.

I stumbled, catching myself at the doorframe, my face burning with humiliation.

As always, my voice meant nothing.

That evening, the mansion filled with noise.

Laughter floated from the living room. Crystal glasses clinked. Expensive heels clicked across the marble floors while champagne poured like water.

And I stood in the kitchen, apron tied around my waist, plating food like a servant in my own home.

When I finally carried a tray out, my arms trembling under the weight, the room went quiet for a heartbeat.

People turned.

A tall man with a sleek smile glanced at me and asked casually, “Who’s that?”

Darian didn’t hesitate.

“My new maid,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

A few people laughed.

The sound rang in my ears until it felt like I couldn’t hear anything else.

“She looks familiar,” someone else said. “Wasn’t she the one who tried to destroy Valeria’s reputation years ago? The one who went on TV and accused her?”

“Oh, that’s beautiful,” a woman giggled. “Darian took her in as a maid. How generous. How merciful.”

More laughter.

It crashed over me like a wave, heavy and suffocating.

I tightened my grip on the tray until my knuckles ached, forcing myself not to shake.

Valeria sat beside Darian, elegant and radiant, like she belonged there. Her smile was soft, almost angelic—yet her eyes glittered with triumph.

“Please,” she said sweetly. “Don’t ridicule her.” She pressed a hand to her chest as if she were deeply wounded. “This is my fault. I caused her family pain, and I’ll always carry that guilt. But she’s been so gracious… she forgave me.”

She tilted her head, voice turning even gentler. “And I promise I’ll help with her mother’s treatment too. She shouldn’t suffer anymore.”

The room erupted in applause.

“Then she should be grateful,” a woman sneered. “She should kiss Valeria’s feet. Thank her properly.”

My vision swam.

But I didn’t move.

I stood there, frozen, staring past them, through them, into nothing. I didn’t respond to the laughter, the whispers, the insults.

I simply turned and walked away.

Behind me, the party noise resumed like I’d never existed.

The moment I stepped into the hall, Darian followed.

He slammed the door shut behind us.

His voice was cold enough to cut skin. “What the hell was that? They were talking to you, and you just walked off?”

I spun around, the last thread of control snapping. “They were humiliating me, Darian! Can’t you see what you’ve turned me into?”

He scoffed. “So dramatic. Always acting.” His eyes were hard. “Do you think I enjoy doing this? Do you think I want you paraded like that?”

He stepped closer, his tone shifting into something sickly calm. “I’m doing it for you. If I don’t keep Valeria close, she’ll come after you. She’ll hurt you. Or your mother. Everything I’m doing is to protect you.”

Gaslighting.

Always.

I shook my head, tears spilling down my cheeks. “No,” I whispered. “You’re doing it for yourself. For her.”

He opened his mouth to answer—

And then a scream tore through the house.

Glass shattered.

The laughter outside twisted into panic.

“Poison!” someone yelled. “The food—something’s wrong!”

My blood turned to ice as I rushed back into the living room.

Chaos had erupted.

Guests were doubled over, clutching their stomachs, faces drained of color. One woman collapsed onto the floor and vomited violently.

And then Valeria herself bent forward, retching, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Every head turned.

Every eye locked onto me.

The whispers started instantly—fast, vicious, unstoppable.

It was her.

The maid.

The wife.

She poisoned the food.

Within minutes, sirens howled outside. Ambulances arrived. The guests were rushed out in a frenzy.

And just like that, I was in a hospital again.

Bright lights. White walls. The same sterile smell.

My hands shook uncontrollably as I stood in the corridor, mind spinning.

Darian cornered me, his anger radiating off him like heat.

“Did you do it?” he demanded, his face twisted with rage.

I shook my head so hard it hurt. “No! Why would I poison them? Why would I hurt anyone? Darian, I didn’t—”

“Liar!” he roared, and the sound echoed down the hallway.

“You wanted revenge,” he snarled. “You wanted to embarrass me in front of my investors. Do you even understand what you’ve done?”

“I swear to you, I didn’t—”

I didn’t even get to finish.

His palm slammed across my face.

The impact sent me stumbling into the cold hospital wall, pain exploding across my cheek.

“Hit her again,” he barked to the men standing nearby. “Teach her what happens when she forgets her place.”

And then the beating started.

Fists. Boots. Blows that came too fast to count.

I curled inward, trying to protect my stomach, trying to shield the tiny life inside me, but the pain didn’t stop. It didn’t slow.

It only got worse.

Until everything went black.

When I woke up, my entire body screamed.

My lips were swollen. My ribs ached with every shallow breath. Blood had dried on my skin, sticky and dark.

My voice came out as nothing but a rasp.

“My baby…” I whispered. “Where’s my baby?”

The nurse standing nearby looked at me with wet eyes, clutching her clipboard to her chest like she needed it to hold herself together.

Her lips trembled before she finally spoke, soft and heavy—like a bell at a funeral.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” she said. “The baby… didn’t survive.”