For six years, I lived like a joke—a hidden wife kept in the dark.

Meanwhile, Rio Beasley placed his golden girl on a pedestal, turning her into the brightest star in the entertainment industry. His Instagram was flooded with their sweet moments, their love story played out for the world to see. Every post, every picture, every doting caption felt like a knife twisting deeper into my chest.

Another day of being pampered by Mr. Beasley.

Bethany Arterton had the audacity to send me a private video, her voice dripping with mockery.

“You're nothing more than a watchdog he keeps at home, Hazel. A dog he can kick away whenever he pleases.”

I confronted Rio, hoping—praying—he’d put an end to it. But all I ever got from him was a dismissive shrug.

“Beth is just a friend. Don’t overthink things.”

Friend. That’s what he always called her, no matter how many times he abandoned me for her. And then one day, Bethany orchestrated something far more sinister. She arranged for both of us to be kidnapped at the same time.

Tied up in a filthy basement, I cried and screamed for Rio to save me. But when he arrived, his eyes filled with nothing but disdain. Without hesitation, he rushed to untie Bethany, leaving me behind like I was nothing.

“This was your plan wasn’t it?” he sneered, his voice dripping with disgust. “You staged this whole kidnapping just to make me feel sorry for you.”

He scoffed. “I know exactly what you are, Hazel--a manipulator with a system, twisting everything to make men fall for you.”

Then, without sparing me a second glance, he ordered, “Let Bethany go. I don’t give a damn whether she lives or dies.”

A broken laugh escaped my lips. He had no idea—no idea that the system he accused me of having had vanished long ago. The day I risked my life in that racing accident to save his.

The next thing I knew, a blade plunged into my chest, the pain searing through me like fire. As darkness closed in, a familiar voice echoed in my mind:

[System alert: The host meets the conditions for resurrection. Do you choose to revive? The cost: complete erasure of all love for Rio Beasley.]

***

The day of the GT Grand Prix finals had arrived. If Rio won today, he would secure the championship title for the sixth consecutive year.

I stood amidst the roaring crowd, my heart pounding. He had promised—sworn—that once he won the championship, he would finally acknowledge me. That he would no longer keep me a secret.

The stadium erupted as Rio’s car crossed the finish line first. The victory lights flashed and for a moment, I could almost see it—him walking toward me, holding out the championship trophy, his eyes filled with love as he declared to the world, “She’s my wife.”

After six years of hiding, I would finally step into the light.

Overcome with emotion, I took a step forward, ready to embrace him, to celebrate the dream we had built together.

But he shoved me away.

“Hazel,” he hissed, his expression darkening. “What are you doing here? I told you not to show up at events like this.”

My breath hitched.

“There are people watching! Do you have any idea what this could do to my reputation?”

The cheers and flashing cameras blurred as I fought to keep my composure, swallowing down the lump in my throat.

“Rio,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You promised. You said if you won the championship, you would finally acknowledge me.”

His brows furrowed, irritation flickering across his face as he glanced around, his mind already strategizing damage control. Before he could respond, the reporters swarmed him, their voices overlapping.

“Mr. Beasley, how does it feel to win six consecutive titles?”

“Mr. Beasley, what’s your secret to maintaining peak performance?”

“Mr. Beasley, what are your future plans?”

Before he could answer, a small, delicate figure darted toward him and threw her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Rio,” she squealed, clinging to him like a trophy wife. “You did it! I knew you would! You’re amazing!”

Bethany Arterton—top-tier actress, media darling and Rio’s golden canary.

She was dressed in a form-fitting off-shoulder dress, her flawless skin glowing under the stadium lights as she nestled into his arms, basking in the spotlight.

Rio chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately before turning to the cameras with a beaming smile.

“I wouldn’t be here without Bethany’s unwavering support,” he declared. “She has been by my side through everything. Especially during my lowest moments.”

Then he turned to me. And for the briefest second, his expression twisted with cold amusement.

“Not like some people who only cling to me like a bloodsucker.”

I stood frozen as the world around me spun. A bitter laugh bubbled up in my chest. This had to be a joke.

Lowest moments?

The so-called “darkest time of his life” was three years ago—the day his car malfunctioned mid-race, the brakes failing as he hurtled toward the barriers, inches from death.

I was the one who ran onto the track, throwing caution to the wind to drag him from the burning wreckage.

The flames had licked at my skin, searing my arms and back, leaving me with scars he never even acknowledged.

When he woke up in the hospital, he recovered quickly, as if the accident had been nothing more than a bad dream. He forgot many things—but not Bethany. Never her.

Meanwhile, I spent three months in a hospital bed, enduring the agony of skin grafts, surgeries and relentless pain.

And as I healed, Rio grew colder.

Support? Devotion? Never leaving his side? How could he stand there and say those words with a straight face?

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I stared at him, desperate to see a flicker of guilt, a trace of regret, any sign that he once loved me.

But his eyes held none of that. Only Bethany. Only the cameras. Only the glory.

As the press conference ended, Rio and Bethany made their way toward the parking lot. My legs moved before my mind could stop them and I ran after him, my voice breaking as I called out:

“Rio, stop! We need to talk. You owe me an explanation!”

But he didn’t even glance back.

Instead, he strode up to a sleek, cherry-red sports car, holding the door open like a perfect gentleman as Bethany slid inside, shooting me a smug look before she adjusted her sunglasses.

Rio smirked, got in and slammed the door shut. The engine roared to life and without hesitation, he sped off, leaving me standing there like a fool.

I stumbled back, my vision blurring. My body trembled from the cold—or maybe from the weight of betrayal crushing down on me.

A passing event staff member hurried over, helping me up and asking if I was okay. I forced a weak nod, murmuring a quick thank you before they let me stand on my own.

My heart ached, sharp and relentless, like a thousand tiny needles piercing through it.

I pulled out my phone, my fingers shaking as I dialed Rio’s number. I had to ask him why—why he was doing this to me.

It rang once. Twice.

Then—

“We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is currently unavailable.”

He had shut me out. Completely.

Like a ghost, I drifted back home. The mansion that once felt warm now stood eerily silent. The massive wedding portrait hanging on the wall mocked me, frozen in time—a reminder of my foolishness.

Six years. Over two thousand days and nights. I had given him everything—my love, my devotion, my dreams. I had sacrificed my career, my ambitions, my very identity for a marriage that never truly existed.

He had promised me a grand wedding. The kind every woman dreamed of. Six years later and that promise had become nothing more than an illusion—dangling just out of reach, shattering time and time again.

“Let’s keep our marriage a secret. Going public would hurt my career right now.”

“Hazel, I swear, once I win the championship, I’ll make our relationship official.”

“Just be patient, okay? Beth is my business partner now—I have to consider her feelings.”

Lie after lie, each one slithering around me like a venomous snake, squeezing the life out of me.

I had reduced myself to nothing more than a shadow, a servant in my own home—walking on eggshells around the man who was supposed to be my husband, terrified of displeasing him.

I didn’t even dare to bring up the words "go public" because every time I did, he would explode—calling me ungrateful, childish, an embarrassment to him.

Again and again, I told myself that Rio loved me. That he was just busy, just stressed, just waiting for the right time. That once he won the championship, everything would change.

Like a drowning woman, I clung to that fragile thread of hope, desperately fighting to stay afloat.

I thought that if I just held on a little longer, if I just gave him everything, he would finally see my worth. That he would cherish me.

But today, I finally understood. I was wrong.

So terribly, laughably wrong.

“Ahhh!”

A primal scream tore from my throat as I started hurling things across the room. Crystal ornaments, limited-edition figurines, designer handbags—nothing was spared from my wrath. When exhaustion finally stole the strength from my limbs, I collapsed in the corner, curled up like a wounded beast, licking my wounds with no solace in sight.

The special notification on my phone blinked.

It was Rio.

“Not coming home tonight. Beth isn’t feeling well. Staying with her.”

Beth. Bethany. Again and again. Her name was a thorn lodged deep in my heart, twisting cruelly with every breath I took.

For six years, I lived like a ghost in the shadows of our marriage—hidden, silenced, erased. While I was forced to be invisible, he paraded Bethany like a trophy, showering her with resources and attention, making sure the whole world knew just how much he cherished her.

Every year, on his birthday, on our anniversary, even on my own birthday, he was never there.

His excuses varied, but the result was always the same. The one left behind was always me. The one by his side was always Bethany.

Last year, he had promised to spend my birthday with me. But at the last moment, Bethany twisted her ankle and he left without a second thought, not sparing me so much as a glance.

I sat alone, staring at my cold birthday cake, tears blurring the candle flames. The next day, the tabloids were ablaze with pictures of Rio celebrating Bethany’s birthday. They stood close, their smiles bright, the very picture of intimacy.

And me? I was nothing but a joke. A court jester foolishly waiting for a king who never spared her a second look.

I had once confronted him, demanded to know why he always chose Bethany over me.

His answer had been dismissive, as if my pain was an inconvenience.

“Bethany is my business partner. I have to take care of her. You, on the other hand, are my wife. You should understand me. Support me.”

I should understand him?

I suddenly felt exhausted—bone-deep, soul-crushing exhaustion.

Six years. Six years of lies, of betrayal, of bending over backward for a love that had never been real.

With trembling hands, I typed out a message.

[Let’s get a divorce.]

The moment I pressed send, my heart stilled. For the first time in six years, I felt peace. Minutes passed. No reply. I let out a bitter laugh.

Of course. Right now, he was busy tending to his "business partner." Why would he waste time on his invisible wife?

***

In the VIP room of an exclusive nightclub, deafening music pulsed through the air, champagne bubbling over crystal glasses as dazzling lights cast an intoxicating glow over the revelry.

Rio lounged back, a smug grin on his face, an arm draped possessively around Bethany’s slender waist as she giggled at something he whispered in her ear.

“Rio, you’re amazing! Another championship title under your belt!” Bethany gushed, clinking her glass against his.

Rio laughed, basking in the adoration of his team and the sycophants surrounding him.

“Of course! Who do you think I am?”

His teammate Glen elbowed him playfully, waggling his eyebrows.

“Hey, man, where’s your wife? Shouldn’t she be here celebrating with you? Six years of hiding her away—isn’t it time to let her breathe?”

A round of jeers and whistles erupted from the crowd.

“Yeah, dump the old ball and chain already! Marry our lovely Bethany instead! We’ll even chip in for the wedding!”

“Hahaha, Rio, don’t tell me you’re bored with her and looking for fresh meat?”